Chapter 7

Willow walked into the bar, the smell of smoke, food and bodies hitting her. It was altogether not an unpleasant smell, and she found herself smiling at the differences in people there. People in cowboy hats and boots sat with people in business suits. A few punk looking types were laughing with some good ole boys at the dart boards. Waitresses wove through the tables with smiles and words for everyone. Willow suddenly knew why Buffy had chosen this place to live. These people were NICE. And not in that scary Stepford kind of way. Shuffling through the restaurant part of the bar, she followed the sound of loud music and worked her way through the throngs of people to the stage area. The band was just setting up, and the jukebox was apparently getting everybody ready for the high decibels to come.

Seeing Mark kneeling on the stage, tuning his guitar, she threaded her way through the crowd to him. Once she reached him, she tapped him on the shoulder, offering him a shy smile when he turned around. The grin that split his face made her breath catch in her throat, and fluttering start in her stomach.

"You made it." He called over the din. She nodded, nervously twisting her fingers in front of her, her bright hair bouncing around her shoulders. Taking the guitar off, he set it aside and jumped off the stage. "Where's your friend from earlier?" He asked, taking her by her elbow and leading her to a table.

"He sacked out." She told him, hoping her blush wasn't noticeable in the dark club. The feel of his hand on her elbow caused her heart to speed up in a pleasant way.

"Too bad." Mark said in such a way that let Willow know that he didn't really think so. "Want something to drink?"

"Uhm, yeah. Just a coke though, I drove here." She told him.

"Beautiful and conscientious, I knew I liked you." Willow blushed again, and he flashed her a wicked grin before moving to the bar. When he came back, he set the drink down in front of her, then waved to his bandmates on the stage. "We're getting ready to start. Will you stick around til the end of the show?" She nodded, smiling again. He brushed a hand over her hair and moved away, jumping gracefully back onto the stage. She watched as he picked his guitar back up and plugged it in, before turning towards the crowd. His eyes sought her out, and he smiled hugely. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear when some of the people near the stage turned and looked at her. Their attention went back to the stage when Mark started to speak.

"How's everybody doin' tonight?" He waited for the loud roar of whoops and whistles to stop before he spoke again. "I figured I'd start off a little different tonight. We have a special guest from out of town, and I would like to play this for her." All eyes turned to Willow again, and she was grateful for the darkness once again when she felt her face blaze. When the first few haunting chords of Hotel California filled the air, Willow forgot all about the people and just lost herself in sound of his voice.

~*~*~

Anne and Spike walked in just as Mark started the second verse. Spike felt himself relax a bit when he recognized the Eagles. *Least I won't have to pretend to like that twangy shit* he thought to himself as Anne pulled him into the room. It was packed, and there was no chance of getting close to the stage. Spike saw the bouncer from two nights before, and his look of recognition was now understandable. He was Buffy's friend, and knew that Matt was Spike's.

"They're good." He said, with no little amazement. What they were doing here was a mystery.

"Yeah. They play here most Thursdays, since Mark works on the weekends. I rarely get to see him play anymore." Anne told him, allowing him to draw her into his embrace, and leaned back against his chest. His arms banded around her waist, and he rested his chin on her head, gently swaying to the music. When the song was over, they launched immediately into Tears of Jupiter, and Spike found himself thanking the God that had forsaken him that Anne had apparently been teasing him.

Between songs, the crowd hooted and howled, stomping and clapping while Mark and the rest of the band drank it in. He was an amazing player, Spike soon realized, when he burst into a guitar solo that rivaled any the blonde had heard before. Women crowded the front of the stage, their faces dreamy with the hopes that he might notice them, but Anne knew none of them would get lucky. She watched as his gaze was continually drawn to the side of the stage, whoever was there was hidden by the crowd. She smiled, happy that he had met somebody that held his attention so raptly.

"You guys have been great." Mark crooned into the microphone an hour and a half later. Wiping his arm across his forehead, he grinned again. "We're going to go out on a soft note tonight, so, all you couples grab your honeys and get to swaying." This elicited a chuckle from the crowd, as several people began to do just that. When the first few notes of Arms Wide Open sounded form the speakers, Spike turned Anne in his arms and pulled her against him. She searched his eyes, a slight frown marring her brow.

"Dance with me." He said, placing one of her hands on his shoulder, and tucking the other into his and holding her against his chest. With a sigh, she turned herself over to him, and got lost in the blue fire of his eyes, and the feel of his hand pressed against her back. Time stood still as the world seem to come down to just the two of them. Mark's deep, soulful voice washed over them as he sang about a man finding out he was about to be a father.

Mark watched them from his position on the stage, a bittersweet feeling running through him. They seemed so in tune with each other, so right. They danced like they were the only two people in the room, and the guitar player felt himself smiling. His brown eyes drifted away from the dancing couple, over to Willow. He may have been wrong about there not being another woman like Annie in the world, and he may have just been lucky enough to find her.

Spike slid his hands down her arms as the song came to a close, linking his fingers through hers. He lowered his head, just as she raised hers to brush their lips softly together. Gently they caressed each other's mouths, tasting and teasing, not rushed or brutal. Everything they felt, but were still too afraid to say, was spoken in that kiss. When they pulled away, and stared deeply into each other's eyes, it was as if the answers to the universe could be found there.

Anne was the first to recover, and she smiled, releasing one of his hands to tug him behind her .

"Come on, I want you to meet Mark." He followed her through the crowd, his eyes drinking in the smooth line of her back, the silken curves of her legs. She seemed to wear shorts all the time, and he, for one, was glad. Neither noticed the appreciative glances of the men, or the enthralled faces of the woman as they passed. Mark was standing in the corner of the room, speaking to somebody Anne couldn't see, and acknowledging the people he knew. She walked up to him, and tapped him on the back.

"Hey, I thought you had to work." He said, turning to face them. She stepped into his hug, smiling against his chest.

"Tell you about it later. Mark, I would like you to meet Spike." She waved her hands between the two, looking expectantly at them. Mark took a deep breath and pulled himself to his full height, finally sticking a hand out.

"We met the other night." He said, reminding the blonde.

"Yeah, I know." Spike said, taking his hand. They both briefly considered the very childish idea of squeezing just a bit too hard, but one look at the glittering hazel eyes of the woman next to them dispelled it.

"Oh, hey, I've got somebody I want you to meet, too." He turned to the person still behind him, pulling her to his side. "Anne, this is. . ."

"Willow." Anne's shocked voice cut Mark off. He looked down at the redhead beside him, then back up at his friend. She had gone pale and was clutching at Spike's hand as if it were a lifeline. Spike was frowning at Willow, and she looked shell-shocked.

"Buffy?" Mark realized with a sudden clarity that this girl wasn't just from California, she was from Sunnydale.

"Never mind. You two seem to already know each other." He bit out, his mind finally conjuring up the memory of the picture beside Anne's bed. This girl was older, her hair shorter and a little lighter, but it was definitely her.

The two women stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Spike was getting ready to say something, just to break the tension, when, as if a spell had broken, they were suddenly in a fierce hug, tears pouring down both of their faces.

"Oh God, Buffy. I missed you."

"I missed you, too Will. I'm so sorry." Anne gasped, clutching Willow like she might disappear. Mark and Spike stood by awkwardly, both uncomfortable with the emotion flowing between the two woman. When they pulled apart, they each raised a hand to the other's hair.

"Your hair's brown."

"And your's is shorter." They both giggled at the inane observations. Then, Anne seemed to remember the men. "Oh, Mark, this is my best friend from Sunnydale. You've heard me talk about her. I can't believe this is the girl you met today." Willow looked up at Mark, her smile fading at the angry gleam in his eye. Her eyes widened when she realized what he must be thinking.

"Oh, Mark. No, I swear, I didn't know who you were." She gasped. His brow quirked and he reached for his cigarettes. Spike decided that seemed like a damn good idea, and reached for his own. He felt bad for the bloke, not honestly thinking that Willow was lying, but understanding how it might look to Mark. He felt the need to show some solidarity with the other man, and decided that creating a batch of secondhand smoke for them to breathe would do just fine. Anne looked between the two, her own mind putting the pieces together.

"Mark, if she says she didn't know. She didn't know." Anne told him firmly.

"Fine. I'll just go get my stuff, let you guys catch up." Willow watched helplessly as he stormed away. Anne looked at Spike, her eyes asking him to stay with Willow. He nodded and let her hand go so she could go after the tall brunette.

"So, where's the whelp?" He asked, casually smoking his cigarette. Willow pulled her eyes from Mark's retreating back, and looked at the vampire.

"Back at the hotel," she mumbled. Spike's eyes sharpened at that.

"He's here?" He growled. She flinched at his tone.

"Yes."

"I thought you didn't know where she was." His tone was accusatory.

"We didn't. . .look, it's a long story. Could it wait until Buffy gets back? I only want to tell it once."

"Fine." He snapped, dropping his cigarette to the floor and grinding it out. "Want a drink?" Willow waited a beat.

"Hell yes."

"Right then. Come on."

~*~*~

"Mark." Anne walked up behind him, watching him as he pulled the cord from his amp with jerky movements.

"What?" The word was clipped, his usual good humor stripped.

"She's not deceitful." She began, only to shrink back from the angry blaze in his eyes.

"That's good. Why don't you go talk? Sure she has some interesting things to say." He said, shoving the cord into his bag.

"Mark. Don't be an ass. If she came here tonight, it was because she liked you. Not because of some covert reason." She snapped, glaring at him. When he dropped his hands to his sides, his head hanging so his hair was covering his face, she sighed. "Come on back. Get to know her, you'll see." She tugged on his hand, willing him to look at her. When he finally did, she saw that the anger was gone. In it's place was a touch of wariness. "Come on." With a sigh, he flashed her a smile.

"Alright. You go, take them to the restaurant side. I'll meet you over there."

"Promise?" Her voice held a note of mock threat, her eyebrow quirked up as she waited for him to answer. He snorted, and shook his head.

"Promise. Now go. I've got to clean up."

"Okay." She smiled brightly, then turned to find her vampire and her best friend. She found them a few minutes later, leaning against the bar commiserating over booze. Actually, it was a beer for Spike, and one of those fruity drinks that Mark always turned his nose up at for Willow. "Ooh, I want one of those. Then let's go over to the other side, it's quieter. Mark said he'll meet us there." Anne said the last part directly to Willow, pleased when the smile returned to her friend's face. She didn't know what had happened to Oz, but it was obvious he was out of the picture. Once Anne had her drink, she took Spike's hand, much to Willow's surprise, and led them to the restaurant. When they were seated, she flagged a waitress down and ordered, then indicated that Willow and Spike should as well. Granted, she didn't actually think Spike would order anything, with the whole need for blood situation.

"You got those blooming onion things?" He asked the pretty blonde, sending her a disarming smile. She nodded mutely, her speaking ability seemingly stilted. She stared at him openly, causing Anne to clear her throat angrily.

"What? Oh, yeah. I'll just go put this in." She then beat a hasty retreat, not caring for the hostility from the woman at the table.

"Ow," Spike whined, when Anne punched his arm. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Eyeballing the waitress." She growled, in a fairly decent imitation of his own fierce rumble. The scarred eyebrow shot up, and he leaned in to brush his mouth over hers.

"Never, kitten." Her eyes drifted shut for a second, and she savored the cool feel of his lips against hers. Willow watched in amazement at the two across from her. Spike seemed almost lighthearted, a stark contrast to the vampire that had thrown Xander around the month before. And Anne seemed, happy. Being away from Sunnydale had done her a world of good. The witch felt a surge of guilt threaten to choke her.

"So, Will. How did you find me?" Anne asked, as Mark came over to the table. He slid into the booth next to Willow, smiling at her. She smiled back, thankful he wasn't angry anymore. After he had ordered, Willow took a deep breath and started her tale of how she came to be in San Rios.

~*~*~

"So, you beat up Xander?" Anne asked, nibbling on a piece of deep fried onion.

"Yeah." Spike said with a smirk. They were all taking bites of the flowering onion, and listening to Willow.

"Good." She replied, turning back to the redhead. Willow felt a stab of disloyalty when she snickered, but dammit, he had pissed her off.

"Was that the guy that came up to you today?" Mark asked, finding her blushing face stunning.

"Yeah." She looked down at her hands, twisting the ring on her finger.

"He's here?" Anne asked, incredulous. Her eyes darted around the room, as if searching him out. Spike watched her reaction with interest, making a mental note to find out just what the boy had done.

"Yeah, here, as in San Rios. I kinda make him go to sleep so I could come tonight." Spike snorted, and Anne giggled through her ire. Mark looked her gape mouthed.

"You put him to sleep?" Willow felt a touch of pride swell in her breast.

"She's a witch." Anne supplied, picking up her drink. Interest filled Mark's face at that.

"Really?" The redhead nodded, wondering if there was a record for the most blushes in an hour. "You'll have to tell me about that." she smiled, and nodded. Anne rested her head on Spike's shoulder, thinking *Awwww*. Her two best friends seemed to be hitting it off. Spike looked down at her, and smiled. He liked the easy comfort she had with him, and he wondered why he had ever left her.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I didn't mean to come here and intrude on your life. It's just, Xander can be very convincing when he wants to be." Anne reached across the table and took Willow's hand.

"I'm glad you came, Will. I didn't realize how much I missed you until I saw you." Their fingers linked, and the men suddenly felt out of sorts again, each reaching for their cigarettes.

"You know, your mom really wants to see you. And Matt." Three sets of eyes snapped to the redhead, making her feel like a bug under a microscope.

"How did you know?" Anne gasped. Willow's green eyes met hers, sadness filling them.

"I went over to your mother's one day to return one of Giles' books. He wasn't there yet, and the door was open, so, I went in. I found her sitting on the couch, crying. She had a picture, I guess you sent it to her. It was of you and Matt. She said he was your son. One look, and I knew who his father was." Her eyes dropped to the table, as an uncomfortable silence descended over them.

"Do you have a problem with it?" Anne asked, her voice tight. Spike tensed next to her, waiting for the witch's answer.

"Oh, Goddess no, Buffy! Why should I if you don't?" Willow was quick to say. "He's beautiful."

"Thank you." Anne replied. Spike blew out a plume of smoke, a surge of pride spreading through him. Matt was beautiful, as was his mother. And they were both his.

"Think it's about time to go, kitten." He said, when she yawned wide. Anne nodded.

"Yeah. How long are you going to be in town? I want to talk, find out about stuff." Her eyes drifted to Mark, in silent indication of what she meant.

"I don't know. A while, I guess." Her own eyes drifted to Mark, then quickly back to Anne. "He's going to want to see you," Willow said. Anne sighed, rubbing her tired eyes.

"I don't know, Will. I don't know if I can deal with him. Look, just tell him to give me a couple of days. Really important things are going on right now, and he's just going to have to wait his turn." Willow nodded, taking the napkin that Anne held out to her with her number. "Call me tomorrow?"

"Alright." They all filed out of the booth, each reaching for their wallets to pay the check.

"I got it." Spike said, throwing the money on the table. The girls hugged, and the men shared nonchalant looks.

"Bye, guys." Anne said with a wave, pulling Spike out with her.

"Bye, Buffy, Spike."

"Later, Red. Tonto." Mark's eyes widened and he moved to go after him. Willow hazarded a hand on his arm.

"Don't, he just seems to need a nickname for everybody. He calls Xander whelp and puff boy." Mark didn't look very convinced, and even less happy, but, he didn't continue after the couple.

"Can I walk you to your car, m'lady?" he said with a rakish grin, and a grand sweep of his arm. She giggled, and preceded him out into the night.

The walk to Xander's old, beat up truck was done in a comfortable silence. When they reached it, he placed a hand on the door, and smiled down at her.

"So, you put him to sleep and stole his truck?" She nodded, a guilty look on her face. Her heart tripped in her chest when he rubbed his thumb across her cheek. "Remind me to never piss you off." She laughed, the sound more nervous, than mirthful. His dark eyes seemed to burn into hers, and the air swirled with electricity. "I'm going to kiss you now." He warned, his soft voice flowing over her.

"Okay." She whispered, her eyes drifting shut at the first, gentle brush of his mouth across hers.

There's something about the first time you kiss somebody. The taste, the texture, the newness of the sensation. The way it makes your stomach flutter, and your heart skip beats. Willow lost herself in the feeling of his lips exploring hers. His mouth was soft, and warm, the taste of the beer he'd had still lingering. When his tongue darted out to tease her slightly parted lips, she responded, sighing when he slipped inside. He throughly explored the sweet cavern of her mouth, before engaging her tongue in a sensual battle. He tasted like cigarettes and beer, and something earthy and wild. She tasted like strawberries, and rum, with the undertone of something purely feminine. He felt like he could drown in her, and die happy.

When he pulled away, he smiled at her desire filled, emerald eyes.

"I want to see you again." He whispered, his voice husky.

"Me too."

"I'll pick you up for lunch tomorrow?" She nodded mutely, looking into his near black eyes. He leaned in to kiss her again, this time with a little more urgency. She met him with her own, her fingers curling around his wrist. Reluctantly, he pulled away, and opened the door for her. After she climbed in, he shut it, and leaned a arm on the open window. "Where are you staying?"

"The Days Inn. Room 16." Alarm broke through her hazy senses. "Oh, shit, I forgot to tell them that we're in the same hotel Spike is." She slapped a hand against her forehead, cursing her stupidity.

"Uh, oh." Mark said, wondering if he needed go home and get his gun.

"It should be okay tonight. He'll sleep until tomorrow. I just have to remember to call her in the morning so she can warn Spike. Not like he can't take care of himself, but Xander can be irrational sometimes." *Stupid, stupid, stupid* she chanted to herself.

"Well, I'll call her, too, just in case." He told her, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow." She said, not really wanting to leave, but feeling like she should get back to make sure he did, indeed, stay asleep.

"Definitely." He stepped back so she could pull out, watching until the truck was out of sight. Whistling softly to himself, he turned to go back into the bar to get his stuff.

~*~*~

Spike put the car into park, and drew Anne into his arms. She went willingly, inhaling deep his scent.

"It's nice, seeing them together." She said, her voice tired.

"Yeah, I suppose." Spike replied. Anne snorted against his chest, leaning up to look at him.

"You suppose? You're such a romantic Spike." she teased. He hauled her against his chest, teasing her jawline with his mouth. Anne trembled with the sensation, relishing the heat his touch induced.

"I'll show you how much of a romantic I am." He whispered in her ear. His hands ran restlessly over her back, sliding under the t-shirt she was wearing. The promise in his voice made the ache intensify between her thighs, and she felt herself dampen considerably.

"I told you, no sex. Not yet." She gasped when his wandering fingers found the swell of her breast, and she suddenly forgot what she was protesting.

"Not going to have sex," he purred, his other hand deftly sliding inside her shorts. He silently thanked the gods for whoever invented elastic.

"Oh, God." She moaned when his cool fingers parted her folds and slipped inside. Two fingers delved into her tight heat, as his thumb circled the tiny bundle of nerves at the top. Her hips gyrated against his hand, her head lolling to the side to give his mouth more access to her throat.

"That's it, Buffy." He whispered, quickening his hand's movements to match hers. Her fingers clutched tightly at his shoulders, and her breath came in husky gasps. His lips latched over his mark on her neck, sucking hard. With a shriek of his name, she jetted over the edge, her juices flowing over his hand, her inner muscles clamping tight over his thrusting fingers. His other arm snaked around her waist as she rode out the orgasm, tremors shaking her to her core. Spike felt like he was going to bust, but he didn't move to try to take things further.

She collapsed in a heap against him, and Spike pulled his hand out of her pants. She turned to look at him, watching in erotic fascination as he licked his fingers clean.

"Delicious." he purred, leaning in to kiss her. The taste of herself on his tongue had her seriously reconsidering this whole waiting idea. "Think you'd better go on home now, kitten. I'll see you tomorrow." With a grimace, Anne moved to climb off of him. They got out of the car together, and he walked with her around to the driver's side.

"Know of any good butcher shops that'll sell a man a spot of blood?" He asked her, holding her door open for her. Her eyes widened when she realized the implications behind his words. Yeah, he had told her that he had stopped being the Big Bad, but she hadn't thought he had stopped feeding on humans. The thought that he had made her heart swell.

"There's one off of Maple," she told him, pulling him down to her for another scorching kiss. When they pulled apart, it was all he could do not to throw her over his shoulder and drag her back into the hotel room for some proper reacquainting. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Nothing could keep me away from what's mine." She smiled hugely at him, before reluctantly pulling her door closed.

"Goodnight, Spike."

"Goodnight, kitten." Then, she pulled out of the parking spot, and drove off into the night. Smiling to himself, and savoring the taste of her in his mouth, and the smell of her on his skin, he turned and went inside.

Chapter 8

Anne woke up Friday morning before Matt, and that never happened. Excitement and apprehension were warring for dominance over her stomach. Tonight was it. Tonight, Spike and Matt would meet, and life would never be the same. Not that it had been the same since he showed up at the Glamour Factory just two short days ago, but this seemed more permanent. She worried whether or not she should tell Matt that Spike was his father right away, or wait and see how they reacted to each other.

Groaning at the non-stop turning of her brain, she flopped onto her back, resting an arm across her forehead. Her need to protect Matt and her want for him to know his father were at odds. Not to mention her own confused feelings towards the vampire. He'd shown a different side of himself the night before, relaxed and teasing. He smiled more last night than she thought possible. He seemed as normal as Mark, and nothing like the monster with a reputation of over a century of blood, death and destruction.

Sighing, Anne gave up on sleep and slipped out of bed. Padding quietly down the hall, she looked in on Matt, smiling at the sight of his tiny frame bathed in the light of the sun from his window. Closing the door, she went to the kitchen, the coffee pot her first stop. Once that was started, she turned to the refrigerator, to pull out eggs and cantaloupe. Cooking always soothed her, helped her think, so Matt would get a big breakfast this morning.

Putting the eggs on the counter, she went to get the cutting board and knife. Slicing into the thick skin of the fruit, her thoughts turned to Spike once more. Her reaction to him physically and her feelings towards him were in a jumbled mess. She knew she wanted him, but that was the only thing that she knew for sure. She cared about him, but what if that was just an extension of her love for her son? However, when he touched her, looked at her, she felt like she was the only woman on the planet. And she liked it. A lot. She felt a pang of arousal shoot through her at the memory of how they parted the night before. God, he COULD make her burn.

Moving on auto, she scooped seeds out the cantaloupe, then put it aside to get her first cup of coffee. Anne sighed again, savoring the warm brew, before going back to her task. Then of course, there was the problem of Spike's vampiric state. At least the daylight issue. He would never be able to see his child in the sun. He would never be able to attend baseball games, or soccer games, never be able to go to barbecues. In all, not as important as him just BEING there, but it was still a large part of life. She was afraid of how it would make Spike feel, not being able to do those things with his son. Then, a though struck her. Maybe Willow could help.

The thought of her friend brought on a whole other set of fears, but she slammed the door on them. *One thing at a time, Annie,* she told herself, placing the sliced fruit onto a plate. She then plucked three eggs out of the carton and broke them into a bowl. Getting the milk from the fridge, she whipped it with the eggs. Next came cinnamon, a touch of sugar, and some nutmeg. Starting a pan to heat on the stove, she grabbed the bread and started to make french toast.

By the time she was putting the last piece on the platter, Matt walked into the kitchen, Scooby clutched firmly beneath his tiny arm.

"Mornin' Mommy," he mumbled, holding his free arm up. Smiling, she turned off the stove, and scooped him up into her arms.

"Good morning, baby. Sleep well?" He nodded, his nose picking up the scent of something sweet.

"Ooh, fresh toas'." He cried, hugging her tight around the neck, and spotting the fruit, "And cantlope." He squirmed to get down, eager to get to the food. Chuckling, she dropped him to the floor so he could scramble up into his chair. Piling two slices on the plate, she slathered them with butter, then topped it with syrup. Then, she put a slice of cantaloupe on the side and took it to the table. He dug in while she poured him some milk, and got herself another cup of coffee.

"Fanks," he said around the mouthful of food, as she sat the glass in front of him, then sat down.

"You're welcome. And don't talk with your mouth full." He scrunched up his nose, but nodded. Swallowing, he spoke again.

"Whassa matta, Mommy?" She blinked, not realizing her inner turmoil was evident on her face.

"Nothing, honey." She denied, then took a sip of coffee. "Guess what."

"What?" Big, blue eyes met hers, the pure innocence in them making her heart clench. She suddenly found herself wondering whether or not anyone had ever made William french toast and sat with him while he ate it.

"We're having a guest for dinner." She pulled back from the thoughts, and made sure her voice was cheery.

"Unca Mark?" Anne smiled.

"Nope. This is a new somebody. He's a friend of mine from when I lived in California." She somewhat lied.

"With Gramma?" He asked, shoving another bite in his mouth. She reached out with a napkin and wiped the syrup off his chin, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.

"Yeah, with Gramma." The image of her mother swam through her mind. It was about time to call her again, and maybe this time they could work out a visit. Matt happily munched on his breakfast, oblivious to his mother's troubles. Maybe she was worrying too much, she thought, watching him eat. Her son was a happy child. Easy and outgoing, inquisitive and smart. Things would go well, they just had to.

Finishing her coffee, she sent him off to get ready for school. Then, she cleaned up the kitchen and went to get dressed, mentally counting the hours until dinner.

~*~*~

"I can't believe you did that to me, Willow." Xander said, glaring at her over his coffee cup. They were sitting in the diner across from the hotel, eating breakfast.

"I said I was sorry." She grumbled around a bite of eggs. He had been bitching since she knocked on his door, offering to buy breakfast to make peace. He just wouldn't let it go.

"Just to go see some hick band in some dive bar. Has it been that long since you've had a man?" His words were dripping with sarcasm. She looked up sharply, not caring for what he was implying.

"You would know." She shot back, ignoring the pang of shame that shot through her. His eyes narrowed at her allusion to their one and only time together. It had been right after Oz and Cordy left, and they had gotten drunk, crying about their exes. One thing led to another, and, well, Willow had never been able to look at him in the same way since.

"Well, if sex is all it's about, let's go. No need to go looking when it's right here." He sneered, angry and a little hurt. He'd thought their time was special. Not something that would ever happen again, but special.

"So not going there, Xander. And it wasn't about sex. I didn't do anything with him. NOT that it's any of your business." She spat, pushing her plate away. She'd suddenly lost her appetite. "I'm going out with him today." Xander's eyes widened.

"What?! But we still have to look for Buffy." He protested, truly shocked that she had forgotten their mission. Willow sighed, and dug through her purse for Tylenol. She had struggled all night about whether or not to give him Buffy's message. That and sweaty, naked dreams about a certain Native American guitar player, but mostly about Buffy. Right. Xander was not one to back down once he got an idea in his head. Downing the pills, she took a deep breath.

"I saw her last night."

"WHAT!!" His cup came down hard on the table, sloshing its contents over the rim.

"Shhh." She hissed when the other patrons turned to look curiously at them. She grabbed a handful of napkins to help him sop up the mess.

"Why didn't you come get me?" He accused, his eyes heated.

"One, what would you have done besides freak out on her? Two, I didn't know that she knew Mark. Three," deeper breath, "Spike was there." Every muscle in Xander's body stilled, save the one jumping in his cheek. Anger and hatred filled his dark orbs, causing her to shrink back from their intensity.

"That. Bastard." He ground out. "I knew he knew where she was. Did she dust him?"

"No." Her brows drew together and her nose scrunched up. "It actually looked like they were on a date." Willow leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, a nasty smile curving her lips at his horrified sputtering.

"Date? With Spike? Are you sure? Cause, remember, he's evil and soulless. Why would she be on a date with him?"

"He didn't seem evil and soulless last night. In fact, he seemed pretty much a regular guy. No fangs, no grr. In fact, he didn't insult any of us once. And there was no talking of killing at all." She told him, watching disbelief cloud his eyes.

"So, you sat down and had a heart to heart with Captain Peroxide?"

"No. We were all sitting at the table together."

"So, you're telling me, that since the last time we saw him, Spike has, what? Changed? I don't buy it. It's probably just some big plan to get close to her and kill her and the kid." Willow's eyes widened, but Xander didn't notice. He was too caught up in verbalizing his inner feelings. "Yeah, that's it. I told her that she should get rid of it. Then she wouldn't have any of these. . .NICE feelings towards him."

"Xander." Willow finally found her voice, her hand snaking across the table to grab his wrist.

"What?"

"How do you know about her son?" She watched him pale as he realized his mistake. He dropped his eyes to the table, suddenly very interested in cleaning up the coffee spill. "XANDER!" Her voice rose an octave, and this time it was he that was worried about people staring.

"What? Well, maybe I saw her in L. A." He said, averting his eyes.

"Maybe?!" she hissed, her eyes blazing. "What. Did. You. Do?"

"Nothing." Xander replied, still not looking at her. Willow threw her napkin on the table and stood, feeling the need to get out of his presence before she hurt him. Badly.

"She told me to tell you to wait a couple of days. She has things going on in her life, and she can't deal with you right now. And frankly, neither can I." She then turned on her heel and left. Xander watched her leave, anger and resentment flaring in his eyes.

~*~*~

Anne pulled the grocery bags out of her car, slamming the trunk and walking to her door. She had exactly one hour until she had to get Matt from school, and she still had to clean. Granted, she had just cleaned two days before, but she was nervous.

Letting herself in, she went into the kitchen to put the steaks into the fridge. She had pondered a long time on what to feed a vampire. Angel never ate human food, and until the night before she hadn't known that Spike did. At least with steaks, she could leave his bloody and cook hers and Matt's to a more consumable degree.

As soon as she was done putting the food away, she ran around the house, making sure everything was just right. She even did a sweep of Matt's room, even though, for a four year old, he was neat. When she was done, she still had fifteen minutes to spare. Pushing her hair out of her face, she grabbed her purse and left again.

~*~*~

Spike paced restlessly around his room, working on his second pack of cigarettes. He couldn't remember ever being this nervous about anything in his life or unlife. How do you go about meeting your four year old son for the first time? What do you say? How do you act? What if the kid hated him?

Growling at all the thoughts swirling around in his head, he lit another cigarette off the burning end of the last. He'd tried and tossed out many opening lines. Finally, he decided to keep it casual, follow Buffy's lead.

He, the Big Bad, was scared shitless. The two most important things in his world were counting on him, and he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to measure up. He was a VAMPIRE for pity's sake. He was never supposed to be a father. Never supposed to fall in love with the Slayer. As that thought penetrated his panicked brain, he stopped dead, turning it over.

"When the fuck did that happen?" He asked the air. He waited for the panic to set in again, but it never did. Something about admitting this to himself calmed him. A slow smile began to spread across his face, and a lightness he never felt before bloomed in his chest. He was in love with the mother of his child. Put like that, it was natural. Now, in love with a Slayer, was a totally different thing. But, it still felt natural.

Crushing his cigarette out, he climbed into bed, his view of the night to come drastically improved.

~*~*~

"Hi, Willow." Mark said, when she opened the door. She returned his huge grin with a tight smile and moved to let him in. "What's the matter?" He asked at the look on her face. She turned around, anger still evident on her face.

"Xander. He's just so. . .ugh. . .grr. . . and uuhh." She spat, her face flushed with anger, a scowl marring her pretty features. Mark walked over to her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. She felt herself relax almost immediately, and her smile was a bit brighter this time.

"What did he do?" His thumbs traced lightly over her collar bone, leaving pleasant tingles in their wake.

"He let it slip today, that he saw Buffy in L.A. while she was pregnant." She saw the flash of temper in his eyes. "You knew already?" He nodded, sighing.

"Yeah, Anne told me."

"Anne? Who's. . .Oh, Buffy. I didn't realize she was going by her middle name." Willow said. Mark shrugged a shoulder.

"I guess. That's all I've ever known her as."

"Do you know what happened? I got so mad at him that I walked out. If I know Xander, whatever he said to her was a large part of why she didn't come back." Willow's green eyes searched his face, and saw his reluctance to answer. His loyalty to Buffy made her heart ache.

"It's not my story to tell." He answered finally, sliding one of his hands down her arm to rest lightly on her waist. "I will say, that some of it was intense. You should ask Anne." She nodded in understanding.

"I tried to call her, but she wasn't home." Willow found herself leaning towards him, the feel of his rough hand on her skin sending shocks to all the right places. She was wearing a dark red blouse that exposed the curve of her shoulders, the smooth line of her neck, and just enough cleavage to intrigue.

"It's about time for Matt to get picked up." Mark said, amazed at the softness of her creamy skin. Her eyes were darkening to jade, and he could feel her pulse speeding up under his thumb. He wasn't doing much better, the sudden tightness of his jeans bordering on painful.

"Oh," she breathed, her tongue darting out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. Mark's eyes fixated on the pink tip sliding across the soft flesh. A low groan escaped him before he lowered his mouth to hers. Willow's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers threading through his long tresses. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her tight against him. Desire swirled around them, through them, making them burn. Her soft body yielded against his hard one, their forms crushed tight against each other.

Mark couldn't get enough of her taste, her feel. His tongue slid across hers, his teeth gently scraping her lips. Willow's body was pulsing, her blood humming as she tried to get closer. She hadn't felt this way in years, and she desperately wanted more. When his hand slid around the expanse of her waist to reverently cup her breast, she gasped and pulled back, staring deeply into the black depths of his eyes. She gasped again when his palm rubbed over her nipple, his fingers gently kneading the soft swell.

"I think," he began, his voice husky. "That we," he nibbled lightly on her bottom lip. "Should go to lunch." Willow blinked, her hazy brain having trouble grasping his words.

"Wha?" She mumbled, the feel of his hand on her breast going a long was towards making her nonsensical. Couple that with his hard length pressed against her, and his mouth teasing hers, and coherent thought had pretty much taken a hike. He chuckled, the deep, throaty sound adding yet another layer to her stupor.

"I want to know who you are, Willow, before I take you." Her breath hitched again, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she told herself to start breathing before she passed out. He brushed a kiss across her forehead, before reluctantly releasing her. Her body immediately reacted to the loss, and she shivered, suddenly feeling cold. Mark pulled out a cigarette, his eyes roaming over her flustered face. Just as he was about to say 'fuck it' and plunder her sweet little body, a knock reverberated through the room.

Flashing him a smile, she turned to answer the door. Mark lit his cigarette, admiring her slim legs, and the curve of her ass through her denim shorts. *God, she's gorgeous* he thought, smoking absently, craning his neck to see who was at the door. He scowled when he recognized Xander.

"What do you want, Xan?" Willow asked, feeling the pleasant tingles recede to give way to renewed tension. Xander offered her a sheepish smile.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry I didn't tell you." Willow crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. He tried to walk past her into the room, but she blocked him.

"I don't understand you. That was something so huge, and you kept it from me, her mother, and Giles. Why?"

"I didn't think that you'd want to know. I mean, honestly, she was having that. . .thing's baby. It's not like it was Angel's. When he had his soul, that is." Xander explained.

"It wouldn't have mattered to me. Buffy is my friend, and I love her. You made it so she had to go through that alone. You even made sure that it took Spike five years to find out he had a child. Where do you get off making decisions for other people? It started with lying to Buffy about me doing the spell, and it just snowballed from there. It's getting so I don't know you anymore." Willow shook her head, her tear-filled eyes searching his face. She'd hoped to see remorse for his actions, but all he seemed to be was sorry he got caught. "Why did you want to find her, if you were so disgusted by her son?" She asked him wearily, wiping the tears away.

"Because, I do love her, and I miss her. I'm willing to look past her. . ." Suddenly, Willow was pulled away from the door, and Xander found himself faced with one pissed off Indian. Mark had heard more than enough out of him.

"You. Need. To. Leave." Mark told him, stressing each word. His eyes were blazing and his jaw was clenched.

"I don't think this is any of your business." Mark's hands clenched into fists, and he struggled not to plow one right into his face.

"Where Anne and Matt are concerned, it is my business," he growled. Willow moved up beside him, lightly resting a hand on his arm. Xander looked confused, not understanding who Mark was talking about.

"Who the hell is Anne?" Mark's eyes shut, and he silently wondered how Spike had managed not to kill this idiot.

"Buffy." Willow supplied, worried eyes trained on Mark. Xander smirked as a thought occured to him.

"Watch out, Will. Looks like you'll have to deal with the 'Ghost of Buffy' with this one." The younger man didn't have time to react before Mark fisted his hand in the front of his shirt, and yanking him forward.

"Let's you and me come to an understanding, shall we?" His pleasant smile was offset by the deadly gleam in his eyes. "I'm not soulless. I'm not evil. And I am certainly NOT a 'thing'. But, I will kill you if you hurt anybody that I care about, and that includes those that they care about." His implication of Spike was clear, not that Mark was concerned that the vampire couldn't handle this loser, it was just the point he was trying to get across. With an icy glare, he shoved the brunette away and slammed the door. Turning to Willow, he caught the look of uncertainty in her eyes. Cursing Xander to a fiery and painful death, he pulled her to him, his mouth crushing hers in a kiss that told her just who he wanted. When he pulled away, they were both panting heavily.

"I think, we need to go to lunch." She said, breathlessly, he entire body trembling from the power of the kiss.

"Yeah." He agreed, stepping back from her. Together, they turned and left the room, neither caring where Xander had gone.

~*~*~

With a deep, unnecessary breath, Spike raised his hand and knocked on Anne's door. He was pleased to see that she had, indeed been doing well for herself, despite the means she had to go through to get it. He listened to the movement on the other side of the door in the second before it swung open, revealing Anne. Her dark hair hung in a braid down her back, allowing her slender shoulders to be exposed. Her top was a pink scoop necked peasant blouse, and she had on a pair of white capri leggings. She smiled wide when she saw him.

"Hi, come on in Spike." She said, and just like that, the barrier was lifted. He smirked when he walked through, before handing her a bouquet. Her eyes lit up, and she squealed a little before taking them.

"Thank you. They're beautiful." She sighed, inhaling the scent of the wildflowers.

"Not as beautiful as you." He murmured, sliding a hand down her cheek. She practically glowed at that, and she leaned up to brush a kiss across his mouth. They both savored the moment, before a tiny voice broke them apart.

"Mommy?" They both turned to see the dark haired little boy, dressed in a pair of shorts and a Scooby t-shirt. Spike stared longingly at the boy, wanting to scoop him up and keep him safe for eternity.

"Matt, come here. I want you to meet Spike." The adults exchanged a glance before Spike lowered to his knee to be at eye level with the boy.

"I like your coat." The boy said shyly.

"Thank you. I like your shirt." Matt beamed with pride, his tiny chest puffing out to make Scooby seem bigger.

"He's my favrit. Spike's a funny name." The vampire grinned at that.

"Yes, I suppose it is." He agreed. "I have another, if you would rather call me that. It's William."

"Nah, I like Spike." Matt took a tiny step closer. "You talk funny too."

"Yeah, I'm from England. You know where that is?"

"Yea, it's cross the oshun." Matt answered, smiling again. Spike returned the grin. Anne watched the exchange with a combination of amusement and terror, feeling as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop. "C'n I ask you a kestion?"

"Sure." Spike settled in a bit more comfortably, enjoying the child.

"Are you my daddy?"

Chapter 9

Anne and Spike's stunned eyes looked at the little dark haired, blue eyed boy. He regarded them both curiously, waiting for the answer. Spike blinked, and looked at Anne. She half shrugged, them nodded, indicating for him to go ahead and answer. The vampire took a deep breath, and turned his eyes back to the miniature of himself.

"Why would you ask that?" Spike asked him. The look Matt gave him made him feel like he was biggest dolt on the planet.

"I have your face." Well, they couldn't argue with that. Then he waited a beat. "Are you my daddy?" He repeated again.

"Yeah, I am." Spike answered, simply. He wasn't prepared when he found his arms suddenly filled with a squirming bundle of giggling child. He sat, paralyzed for a second, them gingerly wrapped his arms around the warm, tiny body, his eyes drifting closed.

"Mommy was right. You did come back." He exclaimed, burying his face in his father's cool neck. "I'm not ilgityment no more," he cried happily. Spike's eyes shot to Anne, and she grimaced.

"A little boy at school told him that," she explained quietly, wiping away the tears that sprang to her eyes. Spike nodded, feeling, for the first time in five years, the need to kill somebody. Matt pulled away and smiled brightly at his father, and the blonde felt his undead heart constrict.

"You going to stay, Daddy?" If possible, even more emotion swelled in Spike that nearly choked him. He had to wait to make sure he wouldn't break down before answering.

"Yeah, poppet. I'm going to stay." This elicited another squeal from the child, and he hugged his father once more.

"Matt," Anne started, waiting until he turned to look at her. "Why don't you show your father your room. I'm sure he'd like to see it."

"Okay, come on." Matt tugged on Spike's hand, urging him to get up. He stood, curling his fingers around the small hand and gave Anne a sad smile. He'd missed so much, and he found himself cursing himself yet again for ever leaving her.

"You want a beer?" she asked as he moved past her.

"God, yes." He said back, the emotion on his face causing her eyes to tear up again.

"I'll bring it back." He nodded, and allowed the boy to pull him back to his room.

When Anne entered the room a few minutes later, she stopped in the door to watch the scene before her. Spike had shrugged off his duster and was sitting in the middle of the Scooby throw rug, listening to Matt explain the intricacies of Lincoln Logs.

"An' you haf to put the pieces like this." Matt told him, very carefully constructing the log house. Anne never knew where his patience came from, cause, God knew she didn't have it. But, watching father and son, and the very intent way Spike was listening to him, as if he was whispering the secrets of the world, Anne figured it out. He was even more like Spike, or maybe it was William, than she had realized.

Spike glanced up at her, smiling. She moved into the room, and knelt down with them.

"Whatcha building there, Michelangelo?" She asked, handing Spike his beer. Matt looked up at his mother, his lopsided grin still in place.

"A fort." Anne looked suitably impressed.

"A fort, huh? For what?"

"To keep out cowboys." Anne snickered. At Spike's confused look, she laughed even harder.

"Mark's influence. He came over here wearing a shirt that said 'My Heroes have always Killed Cowboys', and Matt demanded to know what it meant. So, Mark told him. The abbreviated version of course." The blonde pushed back the jealously that surged over the other man getting to be in his child's life. Mark seemed decent enough, and at least he wasn't Xander.

"You guys want to come out on the patio with me, while I cook the steaks?"

"Yeah." Matt cried, tugging on Spike yet again. The vampire grinned at the excited child and followed him. Anne trailed behind them out to the kitchen, and through the french doors to the brick patio. It was illuminated by the mosquito torches and the outside light over the kitchen door. The warm night air smelled sweet with the potted plants she had arranged around the small surrounding wall. A wrought iron table and chairs sat in the middle of the patio, and a grill sat close to the wall. A large bowl with a salad in it sat on the table, aluminum foil covering it from any bugs that went exploring.

Matt scrambled into one of the chairs, pulling the foil off to sneak a cucumber out of the bowl. He smiled brightly at Anne's raised eyebrow, unabashedly shoving the vegetable into his mouth.

"Sit down, daddy." Spike didn't know if he'd ever get used to hearing that, as his undead heart turned in his chest. He blinked back his tears once again, smiling at Anne as he moved to do just that. He too reached into the bowl and plucked out a tomato. Which he promptly choked on when Matt's next question popped out.

"Why are you cold daddy? Are you sick?" Spike coughed, looking helplessly at Anne. She just arched a brow and went into the kitchen to get the meat. Successfully leaving him on his own, he turned back to the boy, and struggled with his answer. Before he could come up with a suitable one, Matt's confused look changed into one of enlightenment. "Are you a vampire? Mommy said vampires are cold." He smiled, pleased with his discovery.

"Your mommy told you about vampires?" Spike was a little stunned. He never expected that. Anne walked back out then, trying to hide her smile.

"Yeah, she dinnit want me to be fraid of the dark. She tol' me they can't come in without being vited, first. So, don't be fraid."

"Well, she's right." Spike slid a look over at the busily grilling Anne, pulling his cigarettes out and lighting one.

"But, if you're a vampire, and my daddy, are vampires bad?" Matt looked at his father, eyes trusting. Anne turned then, curious as to how he'd answer. Spike took a large swallow of beer, and a drag of his cigarette before answering.

"Yes, most are. There is an exception here and there." He finally said, smiling at his child. Matt seemed to accept that, and reached into the bowl for another cucumber.

"Uh hum." He looked up at his mother, who was standing next to the table now, tapping her foot.

"Yes, Mommy?" Matt asked, innocently, looking at his mother with wide eyes. His innocent act might have worked, if it weren't for the cucumber he was speaking around.

"Quit poking around in the salad. Go wash your hands, dinner's almost ready." She ordered, not turning back to the grill until he was out of salad range. She jumped a little, when she felt Spike's hands settle on her shoulders.

"That was wrong, kitten." He whispered, his soft voice in her ear, and his cool breath on her neck sending pleasant chills over her skin.

"Hey, welcome to parenthood," she told him, giggling. "I forgot to mention he has this awesome memory. We had that conversation last year, after Halloween." She said, leaning into him a little. Whenever she was in his company, her feelings seemed less scrambled, and more centered and sure. Gone was her intense nervousness of the morning, in its place was a sort of contentment, almost like this was what was meant to be.

"I'm going to get you back for that." He promised, his teeth grazing her earlobe. She shivered in response, and felt the accompanying dampness in her panties.

"Spike, Matt is awake." She reminded him AND herself. "Go sit down. The steaks are done." She ordered, hearing the pounding feet of their son heading back through the kitchen. Reluctantly, he stepped back and turned in time to pluck the four year old up and twirl him around. Matt giggled helplessly in return, liking the way his stomach dipped while he was spinning.

"Again, Daddy." He demanded, and Spike happily complied. Anne turned, holding the platter and watched, her heart flip flopping in her chest. This was what it could have been like from the start, she thought, cursing the twist of fate that took her from L.A. If she'd only stayed. . .no, no regrets. Things were as they should be now, and that was all that mattered.

"Alright, you two. Sit." Obediently, they did, and she walked over to join them. Once they were settled, they began to eat, Matt regaling them with tales of what went on in San Rios Learning Academy for Pre-Schoolers.

~*~*~

After dinner, they moved inside, and were now sitting in the living room. Matt sat securely between his parents, constantly touching or looking at Spike, as if he was afraid he would disappear. When Anne announced that it was his bedtime, he protested.

"Listen to your mum, bit. I'll see you tomorrow." Spike told him, the look in his eye brooking no argument. With a hanging head, Matt climbed off the couch, then launched into his father's arms. Tears sprang to the vampire's eyes once more when he heard the tiny declaration.

"I love you, daddy."

"I love you too." He whispered back, dropping a kiss on the dark curls on top of his head. Anne had to brush her own hand over her eyes to stem the flow.

"I'll be right back." She told him, when Matt climbed down and started towards his room. Spike could only nod, not trusting his voice. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it while waiting for her to come back.

Fifteen minutes later, she walked back out into the living room to find him staring intently at the pictures on the entertainment center. They were all of Matt, from birth til current. Some were with her, others were with Mark, but the majority were just him.

"Hey, he's all settled." She said, coming to stand next to him. He was currently looking at one that had been taken in the hospital. Anne was sitting up in the bed, looking tired but happy, with the red faced baby in her arms. Mark had been camera happy that day, having taken several shots in the space of a few minutes. She had been annoyed at the time, but now, she was happy that she had them.

She watched Spike as he lifted a finger, and traced it over the picture.

"I missed so much," he whispered, his voice thick and rough. She laid a hand on his shoulder, and rested her cheek against his arm.

"I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you stay in L.A.?" He asked, his tone slightly accusatory. She sighed, and moved away from him to sit back on the couch. She knew this question was coming, and she had kicked herself a thousand times for not doing just that. But at the time, she was so young, and so scared. She didn't really know WHAT she was doing.

"Come here," she said, patting the cushion next to her. She waited until he was seated next to her, his arm curved around her shoulder before she began.

"Xander found me."

Los Angeles, 1998

"I'm coming," Buffy yelled groggily, running an agitated hand through her duel colored hair. She knew it looked like shit, but the doctor had pretty much told her no dying of the hair, no medication unless cleared through him, no smoking (duh), and no drinking (again, duh.) And truth be told, she didn't give a crap how she looked. Nobody was around to see her anyway, so what did it matter? Making sure she had a stake ready, just in case, she opened the door. Then stood and stared at the man standing outside.

"Hi, Buffy," Xander said, his tired, apologetic face offering her a smile. Anger burst through her shock, and she glared at him.

"What are you doing here? How did you find me?" She shot out, looking down the hallway to see who else he brought with him. Finding that he was alone, she crossed her arms over her rounded belly and waited.

"Can I come in?" He asked, instead of answering her. With a roll of her eyes, she turned away and walked over to the couch, propping her swollen feet up on the coffee table. Xander came in, and turned and closed the door.

"What do you want, Xander?" She asked wearily, when all he did was stand there. She turned to look at him, and saw him staring at her stomach. Glaring once again, she grabbed a pillow and drew it across her. He shook himself and walked over to sit in one of the chairs, his dark eyes searching her face.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. For not telling you about the spell," he said finally. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she wiped them angrily away. She had promised herself that she was done crying when the doctor told her that the baby was healthy, and human. Amniocentesis were wonderful for that sort of thing apparently.

"Doesn't matter now," she said, twisting the stake in her hand. Angel was gone, Spike was gone. Her mother kicked her out. She had nobody now.

"I just," Xander started, shoving a hand through his hair. "I just didn't think. . ."

"That's right. You didn't," she cut him off, her snapping hazel eyes meeting his.

"You're right. I didn't. All I could think about was what he did to Ms. Calender. And Willow."

"That was Dru." She reminded him, gripping the stake.

"I know, but it was under his orders. I was against the spell all along. But, that's no excuse. I'm sorry." He sounded so sincere, that Buffy found herself relenting. Sighing heavily, she looked at him, the pain in her eyes nearly crippling.

"I'm not going to say it's alright, Xander. Because it's not. What you did. . .cost two people a lot." She said, watching the confusion pass over his face.

"Two people?"

"Dru went into Acathla with Angel." She said, her throat tightening once more. She huddled deeper into the black t-shirt she was wearing, Spike's smell long gone, since she'd obviously had to wash it. But, it still comforted her to wear it.

"I don't see how that's a bad thing," Xander replied. Anger snapped into her again.

"No, you wouldn't." He recoiled back, not knowing what he'd said wrong.

"Buffy, I'm not understanding here. Dru was one crazy bitch. What did it matter if she went to hell?"

"It mattered to Spike," she whispered. Xander's eyes widened, still struggling with confusion.

"Again with the 'so'?" His callous tone grated her last nerve, and she stood to throw the pillow at him. She was too afraid to touch him. He raised his arm and deflected the projectile, surprise evident in his features.

"You know what? This is obviously way beyond your limited brain capacity. Why don't you just go home?" She snapped, stalking into the kitchen. He followed her.

"I'm sorry if I don't understand the big deal. She was evil. Spike's evil. What do I care about their pain? They tried to KILL us, Buffy. Many times." He reminded her.

"I KNOW that, Xander. Hello, I was there."

"Then what's the big deal? You should be glad that Spike's suffering." Buffy closed her eyes and prayed for patience, one hand coming to rest on her stomach. Xander followed the action, his eyes staring in disbelief. Pushing the insane thought away, he took a deep breath and started again.

"Look, I don't know what to say. Okay? It's hard for me to feel sorry for him. His whole goal in life was to kill you, and he almost did. If it wasn't for that organ, who knows what might have happened." Buffy just sighed, and turned away.

"What do you want, Xander? There's more to this than an apology."

"I wanted to come and take you home." She snorted at that.

"Home? I am home," she said. It was funny how she felt just that. This apartment, full of Spike's stuff, was her home. Sunnydale seemed a million miles away now.

"No, Buffy. This is isn't home. This is running away. Your mother is worried." Guilt tripped through her, but she shoved it down.

"Well, she should have thought of that before she kicked me out," Buffy snapped, turning to face him again.

"She was scared, and confused. You can't hold that against her."

"The hell I can't. She thought I killed Kendra, Xander. How's that for motherly loyalty?"

"No she didn't. Not really, but think about how it looked. You were found over her body." Xander tried to soothe, but he only managed pissing her off more.

"Yeah, I know.”  She reminded him. "But that's not the point, is it? She's my mother. How could she think that of me?" Tears spilled from her eyes, and Xander took a step forward. Her hand shot up to tell him to back off.

"Go home, Xander," she told him again, pushing past him to go back to the living room.

"Not without you," he said firmly. "You're still the Slayer, and the Hellmouth is still in Sunnydale." He resorted to using her duty against her.

"I don't give a fuck." She almost giggled at the look that crossed his face.

"How can you say that?" She shook her head, truly amazed at how thick he could be sometimes.

"I have more important things to worry about now" was all she offered.

"What, like that baby?" She looked up at him, her eyes slitting dangerously. "You didn't think I couldn't tell. Jesus, Buff, you're skin and bones. That little puff in the tummy area could only be one thing. My question is, it's not Angel's, who's is it?" His dark eyes begging her to lie to him.

"None of your business," she snapped.

"You fucked him, didn't you?" Xander's shock was thick, almost as thick as the disgust that replaced it. "How could you? And now you're pregnant? God, does a guy have to be dead to get between your legs?" His head snapped around as the flat of her hand connected.

"You're just pissed cause I wouldn't give you a chance," she spat. Fury burned in her eyes, rising up to meet his.

"Yeah, I was. Until two seconds ago." He shot back, rubbing a hand over his cheek. She raised her chin defiantly, her hands clenching into fists.

"Leave. Now."

"Buffy, I'm sorry. Look this doesn't have to ruin your life. Just, terminate it and come home. Nobody needs to know. I'll never tell." He said, imploringly. She looked at him as if he had just told her that the moon was really made out of cheese.

"You don't understand, do you? I want this baby."

"What? How. . .why?" He couldn't form a coherent thought, her words shocking him to his core.

"This is my only chance at having anything resembling a normal life. I'm taking it Xander. Calling and Hellmouth be damned. I'm sorry if that shatters your perfect little image of me, but I'm being selfish for once. I sent Angel to Hell to save the world. I'm not killing my child too." Buffy asserted.

"Even though it's father is a monster?"

"That just makes it more of a miracle. Neither of us were supposed to ever have children. It happened for a reason, and I'm not giving it up. So, go home Xander. Forget you know me. The new Slayer will be called, maybe you can get lucky with her." She ran a hand through her hair, and glared at him. Xander raised himself up to his full height, hurt, anger and shock twisting his face. He stalked past her, throwing out one last thing before leaving.

"This isn't over Buffy." Then, he was gone. She stared at the door for a full minute before bursting into a flurry of activity. She didn't know what he had planned, nor did she want to be here when he came back. Because she knew he would be back. Probably with her mother and Giles, and Willow for good measure. Picking up the phone on her way to the bedroom, she called information to get the number for the bus station, then called and got the time of the next bus leaving. She didn't care where it was going, as long as it got her out of here.

Grabbing a duffle bag out of the closet, she started to throw the few clothes she had bought into it. She then went into he bathroom and cleared out her stuff in there. Walking back into the bedroom, she flipped the mattress off the bed and grabbed the money that Spike had left her, all the while dialing her doctor's number. She left a message with his answering service that she had to leave town, and would call him when she got to where she was going so he could give her a referral. Then, she threw the phone on the box spring, and took one last look around. She made a mental note to call Willy as soon as she got to wherever she decided to stop and give him a new message for Spike. It had only been three months, and she was pretty sure he would still be outrunning his grief for awhile. If he ever went back to Sunnydale, that is.

Hefting the bag onto her shoulder, she grabbed her jacket off the hook on the door and left the apartment without a backwards glance.

San Rios, Arizona, 3 months later

Mark watched as the very tiny, very pregnant woman walked into the bar. She was a pretty little thing, way too young to be in there. When she came to a stop in front of him, her hazel eyes were full of pain.

"Are you okay?" He asked, concern etched on his face. Buffy looked up at into the kind, dark eyes of the stranger.

"My name is Anne Williams. And I need some help."