Prologue: Oh, Baby
I don’t own Buffy or NCIS. That’s Joss Whedon and Donald Bellasario. Author’s Note:
This is in response to a Challenge by IceBlueRose. It place after the seventh season of Buffy, but isn’t comic book compliant. It takes place after “Probie” of NCIS, obviously making it an AU.
“I’m just so tired of it,” Buffy was aware that she was whining. Under these circumstances, though, she felt that it was allowed. “I mean, I’m a good person. I save the world.” She nudged the blanket-covered mound. “Right?” There was grumbling, which she took as ascent. “So I should have awesome love karma, right?” She nudged the lump again and carried on despite the peevish tone the grumbling had taken. “I should be rewarded. Instead, my love-live is awesomely bad.” She pouted. “It’s not fair.”
One bloodshot blue eye peered out from under the blankets. “Why do you care? You hated the Immortal, anyway.”
Buffy bit back a sigh. “I’m feeling urges, Dawnie.”
The blue eye narrowed. “Keep those to yourself.”
“Not the sex urge. Though I am sort of missing the sex,” Buffy said, letting her eyes glaze a little at the thought. She jumped, yelping, at the pinch on her butt.
“Keep that to yourself, I said,” Dawn said, crabbily shoving the blankets away and sitting up.
Buffy rubbed her abused bottom and said, “I told you. This is about my bilingual clock ticking.”
Dawn looked at her blankly before her face scrunched up. “Please tell me you meant biological clock. Because you mangle English. Having to teach you a second language would be cruel and unusual.”
“That’s what I said,” Buffy nodded, glossing over the English-mangling comment. Her English was fabulous. “My biological clock is ticking. I mean, we both know I won’t live forever. If I’m going to do it, I should probably do it before I’m old and stuff.”
Dawn nodded, kindly not pointing out that at 25, Buffy was already pretty damn old in Slay-years. “So you need to find your Mr. Right.”
“No,” Buffy said, drawing in a deep breath. “Desperate times, Dawnie, call for desperate measures.” When Dawn just raised an unimpressed eyebrow, Buffy elaborated. “A sperm bank.”
Dawn blinked at her for a minute then whacked her in the face with a pillow. “If you’d already figured it all out, why’d you come wake me up?”
Buffy checked her nose, scowling. “I just wanted to talk it out. With my sister
. You know, the person who’s supposed to comfort me in my time of need and encourage me.”
Dawn rolled her eyes then pointedly looked at her glowing alarm clock. “It’s two in the morning, Buffy. My supportive hours run from 5 a.m. to midnight. After that, it’s sleepy time.”
Buffy huffed, then dove in and started to tickle her sister, careful not to use too much strength. Dawn shrieked with laughter and feebly tried to push Buffy away but mostly just managed to inflict bruises on herself. The door to her bedroom creaked open and both Summers girls looked up to see Xander blinking a sleep glazed eye at them and Willow rubbing hers, hair standing in spikes.
Buffy smiled brightly at them. “I wanna have a baby.”
As the only male in the room, Xander choked on air, eye bulging alarmingly. “What?”
“I’m going to sperm bank it,” she said, letting him off the hook. Since Anya, Tara, and Joyce had miraculously returned from the dead, Xander had worked hard on setting his relationship with Anya to rights. Doing the donor thing would probably have blown that all to hell.
Willow nodded, finally awake enough to be coherent. “There are blessings that’ll help from the fertility end.”
baby,” Buffy stressed, suddenly worried. “Not, like, eight or anything.”
Willow grinned. “I’ll see what we can do.”
Buffy nodded and blew out a breath. “I’m going to have a baby.”