Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or the 'verse. Joss does, lucky bastard.
A/N: vaguely inspired by the "I Love You" song from "25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee" - and when I say vaguely, I mean vaguely
. I really loved the melody and the harmonies, but the subject matter is reeeaaaalllly different. Feel free to youtube it, if you like.
Buffy walked to the back and sagged quietly against the counter. Don, one of the cooks, frowned at her, jerking his head towards the door to the back alley and mouthing 'Need some air?' She shook her head wordlessly and put her hand against her gently rounding stomach in answer. He nodded and turned back to the fries he was scooping out onto the plates.
The waitressing job sucked, really. The hours were long and the customers didn't tip for shit, but the people she worked with, well, they were nice. The owner of Bob's Diner – a short, rounded little man with glasses and a perpetual squint – was largely indifferent to her, but he stepped in when necessary with all
the girls, and that made him pretty awesome compared to some of the sleazebags out there. The other girls, ranging from chain-smoking Sarah to bright-n-bubbly Carla, chipped in to take on the really bad tables in her sections when they could.
Buffy wouldn't call them family, she'd had that back in Sunnydale, but they were… there
for her. They helped out when and where it was feasible, not asking anything in return. They asked her how she was, and recommended free clinics where people didn't ask questions when her condition became apparent. Don and Charlie slipped her little snacks throughout the day, 'extras' that would 'go to waste' otherwise. Her diner-family was keeping her sane, and for that they would always hold a special place in her heart.
The Slayer sighed deeply, fisting one hand and rubbing it firmly in the small of her back. It was nearing the end of her shift; she was in from the 4:00AM breakfast crowd through the two o'clock lunch rush. Bob tried to give her good shifts, and she'd basically told him straight-up that she preferred the morning or late-night shifts whenever possible. The day shift from eight to four might be busier, but she needed something to occupy the dark hours… the hours when she would usually Slay.
She tried to get out and do a round of the cemeteries once or twice a week, but L.A. was large and she was small, though getting bigger. After a few weeks she'd given up on trying to patrol more than a few block's radius of her apartment and workplace. She glanced down at her growing problem and knew that pretty soon she'd have to give up on the Slayage entirely.
If someone had told her this time last year that she would be pregnant with the child of a vampire, she would have punched them. If someone had told her that she'd be living in a shitty little apartment after having been kicked out by her mom, she would have told them they weren't funny, and then
punched them. Buffy wasn't sure if these responses were indicative of the ridiculousness of her situation or a tendency to solve problems with violence.
It was true, though. She was pregnant with Angel's – not
Angelus's – child. She was about five months along and really starting to show, having just recently 'popped'. The baby was healthy, or as healthy as could be expected. She refused ultra-sound or any sort of testing that was even remotely invasive citing religious differences when pressed, hell – she wouldn't even let the nurse at the clinic use a stethoscope
. Who knew what would pop up? The kid was the spawn of a Slayer and a vampire, something that wasn't even supposed to exist.
Add in the fact that Angelus had been attracted to
and constantly commenting on her changing scent as the pregnancy progressed – though thankfully he'd never put two and two together – and she'd been pretty much certain that what was growing inside of her was Sunnydale's own equivalent to "Rosemary's Baby".
For the first few months, Buffy hadn't even referred to the child as
a baby – especially not in her own mind. It was always an 'it' or a 'creature', and she was starting to scrounge up her money for a quick-and-dirty abortion when something happened that changed all her feelings. In the seventh week of her pregnancy, after she'd killed Angel and just before she'd jumped on the bus, she'd felt something that made her whole body go still.Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump…
It came from low in her belly and resounded through her whole body. She'd been pregnant for almost two months, known for about one, and for the very first time she felt
it. She felt the child growing inside of her; she felt the heartbeat keeping time with her own.
In that one moment Buffy's entire life shattered into pieces. Her face was wet when she got on the bus, tears she didn't even notice through her shock soaking her front. She was crying for her broken family, for Angel, for herself, and for the little piece of person growing inside of her. What was she going to do? What was she going to do?
She was pregnant
She was going to have a baby
She was going to be a mother
Her thoughts had reorganized themselves around this new responsibility rather quickly. She was the Slayer, her duty was to destroy the forces of darkness, not for the sake of their destruction, but in order to protect
. That realization was what had allowed her to live so long without succumbing to despair or becoming an automaton like Kendra. She had something to protect. At first it was her family, then it was her friends, and now it was the baby. The fragile life inside of her, completely dependent upon her for everything, was her new priority.
Because of the baby, she had to cut back on the Slaying and stake out an actual territory. Because of the baby, she was meditating and working on her Slayer senses, finally taking to heart the more boring training exercises Giles had tried to force through her skull. Because of the baby, she couldn't go back to the Hellmouth, no matter what. Because of the baby, she couldn't contact her friends or family – they would
force her to return, might even force her to get rid of her child, if only because it was also Angel's child.
Buffy didn't know what being half-vampire would mean for her baby. She couldn't even research it, she was never 'net girl' like Willow, and her access to reliable information on the occult was nil. She didn't know the shops in L.A. and even if she did, she wouldn't dare go and be recognized for what she was.
It was terrifying. Not just the knowledge that she was pregnant
, but the helpless not-knowing
that plagued her. Sure, the kid was healthy, so far as the clinic could tell, but healthy for a human? For a vampire? Would her child be normal, or Slayer-ish? Would it be born with yellow eyes and a crinkly forehead?
Scariest of all, would any of that matter to her?No,
she decided, on that long bus trip to L.A. It really wouldn't
. Her world had been re-ordered around a lump of cells and potential barely the size of her thumb, and she couldn't – wouldn't – change that. If it meant giving up the Slayage, so be it. If it meant giving up her family, then sure. Her baby was the most important thing in the world.
Buffy smiled down at her growing problem and loosened her apron strings.
"Gonna need to get a large soon, blondie," Sarah told her as she put up a few more orders.
"Yeah, I know," she replied, smoothing her hand over her stomach.
"Gettin' real big there, girly. You sure there's not more than one in there?"
Buffy's eyes went wide, "Better not be!"
Sarah chuckled, "I'm sure they'd pick up on that by now." She flicked her apron at the younger woman, "You got tables, shoo!"
The Slayer rolled her eyes and sidled out of the kitchen, heading towards a table with two unkempt teens, one of whom looked oddly familiar…
A/N2: So, yeah. I wanted a prego!Buffy and this way there's the opportunity for her to go and visit other dimensions, or even go back to Sunnydale... what think you? I am leaving this here for now, though I might pick it back up at a later date. If anyone wants to make a spin-off of this, just drop me a line and lemme know, kay?