“You had to tell them a whole week?” Buffy asked Giles.
“Well, how was I to know they’d spend all of that time in bed once I told Spike that it was safe for them to, er . . . er . . .” Giles rubbed at the bridge of nose and forehead. “And don’t say ‘This is Spike and Xander we’re talking about!’ ”
She crossed her arms and gave him a look of pure annoyance. “Fine. I won’t say it. But I would like some face time from them, to make sure Xander’s healthy and okay with all of this, and that Spike hasn’t gone all obsesso-vamp.”
“I think Spike was already at that stage before this week,” Oz noted as he kept his eyes trained on the computer and scribbled something onto a note pad.
Buffy sighed. “No go on the internet searching?”
“Oh, I’ve got lots about baby names, and how to child-proof your kitchen,” Oz said.
“But nothing on baby delivery for guys,” Buffy stated, and Oz nodded. “You know, you’d think they’d have that kind of thing online.”
“It might be buried on the web somewhere. Kind of hard to tell with all the porn,” Oz observed.
Buffy hopped up onto one of the stools at Giles’ kitchen counter. “What about on Willow’s end? Hasn’t she found any information at the Wiccan Unification . . .thing?”
“She mentioned learning how to make her enemies speak in tongues,” Oz responded thoughtfully. “But no, on the mystical pregnancy and very real baby delivery front, nothing’s turned up so far.”
“I would have hoped her access to the program’s volumes would have yielded something,” Giles said as he paged through a sheath of papers. “In truth, I’m nearing wit’s end here trying to locate anything in the books I already own or have been able to obtain.”
“So what do we do when Spike and Xander finally decide to stop getting busy and rejoin the ranks?” Buffy asked. “We’ve got nothing--”
“Who’s got nothing?” Xander put in as he walked into Giles’ apartment right behind a wary-looking Spike.
“Oh!” Giles said brightly. “We were just conferring -- oh, good lord!” he exclaimed in alarm as Spike moved aside and Xander’s very swollen abdomen came into view.
“Wow, that’s some huge --” Buffy began and then stopped short. “Uh . . . huge time! Huge time that we haven’t seen you and you should have called more often! We were worried.”
Xander gave her a sour look. “I know what I look like, okay?” As he spoke, his hand moved, seemingly unbeknownst to him, to rest on his belly protectively.
“Sorry,” Buffy said. “It’s just . . . we haven’t seen you in days, and it is a big change. I mean large difference. I mean huge, I mean--“”
Giles broke in hastily. “I think what Buffy is trying to say is that of course as you’re with child, your body would begin to reflect that. But in your absence we haven’t had the opportunity to become as used to it as you no doubt have.”
Xander snorted. “Used to it? You can’t get used to a situation that’s completely insane. It’s getting so that I can’t reach the faucets on the kitchen sink. And I think that whatever is in here is all mouth and stomach, because I’m hungry all the time. Oh, and in case you were wondering, no, they don’t make maternity clothes for guys. So I’m currently sporting the skater boy big baggy jeans look, except that on me they’re all fitted around the middle.”
“Well, I think you look smashing,” Spike said.
“You do have a certain glow,” Oz remarked.
Xander scowled at both of them. “I look like I’m on an all-milkshake diet. And since we have more time to go with this baby-carrying thing, I’m guessing that I will look extremely large and in charge before this is all over.”
“It is pretty unfair,” Buffy said. “If you were a woman, people would be asking when the baby’s due, or you could just tell them that you’re pregnant if they looked at you funny.”
“Oh, he’s been telling them,” Spike said as he maneuvered Xander onto the couch and then sprawled beside him. “You should see them back away slowly.”
“That was pretty funny, with that one woman in the supermarket,” Xander agreed with a grin. Then his look became serious. “So . . . what have you all got? Info about the baby? The word on how the delivery thing is going to work? Spill.”
Oz glanced at Buffy. Buffy shifted her gaze anxiously to Giles. And Giles lifted his eyes to the ceiling as though he was attempting to see through it.
“They’ve got nothing,” Spike said succinctly after the room had been silent for a moment.
“Oh, come on!” Xander said with impatience. “Nothing?” We’ve found the answers to prophecies in hours, the solutions to apocalypses in days, and you’re trying to tell me that we don’t have a working solution for the baby that’s going to insist on being born when there is nowhere out of me for it to go?”
“Er . . .” Giles said to the ceiling.
“But it wasn’t exactly ‘we’, right?” Buffy said. “You were off with Spike while Giles was hitting the books, the whole time Willow was losing sleep at her WUSS camp, when Oz has been searching online constantly, and while Angel has been worried sick--”
“Angel’s been worried?” Spike asked with raised eyebrows.
“Well. Mostly about how much the baby stuff is going to cost,” Buffy allowed.
“All right, all right,” Xander said with a sigh. “So we weren’t here helping out. But it doesn’t sound like there’s much we could have helped with.”
“Well, you never know what a fresh viewpoint will bring,” Giles said. “There’s every chance that with all of us working together, we’ll discover a solution very soon.”
“Very soon, great, fantastic. In time, pretty much necessary,” Xander said grimly.
“We’ll work it out pet,” Spike said in a soothing voice. “Won’t have you worrying, yeah?”
“Guess there aren’t objections now,” Oz murmured as Xander easily leaned into Spike’s embrace, their hands joined together on Xander’s stomach.
“They’ve gotten used to the spells,” Buffy said softly. “And like Angel said, it might have started with spells, but the results are real. Real pregnancy. Real . . . love. Plus, you know, what with a whole week of--”
“Well!” Giles said brightly.
Xander started, and then took a deep breath. “So Buff. . . what have you been doing amid all the searching and not-sleeping and worrying?”
“Shaking down leads, mostly,” she shrugged. “Some dead ends, a couple that seemed promising at first but didn’t pan out. Nothing really helpful so far. But oh! I do have another one to follow up on tonight, so --”
“How about I come with?” Xander asked.
“Is that such a hot idea?” Oz asked. “With the . . .well, the pregnancy.”
“Trust me, it’s a great idea,” Xander said. “It’s making me crazy not knowing how this is going to work, and that can’t be good for . . . general health stuff.” He put his hand on his stomach again, and then just as quickly snatched it away. “Besides, if Buffy needs help putting the lean on her guy, I’ve got desperation and thirty extra pounds on my side to lend her.”
“And you would be quite all right, separated from Spike?” Giles inquired.
“We’ve tested it out a little and yeah, a couple of hours should be fine.” Spike nodded, and Xander waggled his eyebrows. “And hey, we’ve built up a lot of togetherness lately, so--”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Giles interrupted him.
“Maybe I’ll go kill some things,” Spike said thoughtfully. “Haven’t done that for a bit.”
“Aww, see? That’s right, you go enjoy your killing, and I’ll go ahead with Buffy to rough up her source,” Xander said enthusiastically.
“I’ll head out with Spike,” Oz said as he stood and stretched. “Think I’ve had enough computer time.”
“I’ll stay here and try re-examining that first batch of texts to make sure we didn’t miss anything on the first go-round,” Giles said. He sat at the table and drew one of the piles of books towards him.
“And then we’ll all meet back here later for punch and pie,” Xander said as he and Buffy headed towards the door.
“Yes, very amusing,” Giles said dryly.
“Oh, I’m totally serious,” Xander said after Spike had kissed him goodbye. “You’d better have punch and pie when we get back. That extreme hunger thing is no joke.”
* * *
“What do you mean, you’ve got nothing?” Buffy demanded of the small man they had cornered in a booth at a seedy bar downtown.
“I mean, sure, I’ve heard of this kind of . . . stuff,” the man said nervously, patting down the three strands of hair on his scalp that composed his comb-over. “But I never saw it myself, and . . . holy cow, how are you going to get that thing out of there?” he asked Xander with his eyes wide.
“You’re not helping,” Xander said angrily. “Buffy, he’s so not helping.”
“Listen,” Buffy said in a faux-friendly voice, leaning in close to the man. He cringed in response, trying to inch away from her. “My friend here is way hormonal, and I’m feeling way protective, so if you know anything, anything at all, you’d better--”
“I swear,” the man said frantically. “I don’t know any of the solution stuff you’re after! I wouldn’t hide anything from you, not from you!”
“Is it me, or does he seem like an overly eager informant beaver?” Xander asked out of the side of his mouth.
“Oh, that’s because I roughed him up a little about something . . . was it a month ago?” Buffy asked the man cheerfully.
“Six weeks,” he clarified, shrinking back into the booth a bit more.
Buffy scanned his face briefly, and rapped her fist on the table, making him jump. “Okay. I’ll take your word. But if you find out anything, and I mean anything--”
“You’ll be the first to know,” the man said desperately. “Can I--”
“Be my guest,” Buffy said scornfully, and the man slid out of the booth and high-tailed it out of the bar.
“And here I thought Willy was the only snitch in town,” Xander observed with a shake of his head.
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Buffy told him. “There’s a whole underground informant base here. Makes the job a little easier.” She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Or harder, I guess, depending.” When Xander leaned against the wall heavily, she patted him on the arm, and then guided him over to the bar. “Hey, let’s get you something to drink. Maybe some water? Don’t want you to get dehydrated.”
“Seltzer is probably the best bet here,” Xander said, glancing around the dank room suspiciously.
“A seltzer for my friend,” Buffy told the bartender, handing over a few dollar bills. “Hang on a sec. I’m just going to run into the back, see if any of the other informants I know are skulking around.”
“Good luck with the intimidation fun and games,” Xander said, raising his glass of seltzer to her as she headed away. He slid onto a stool and sighed.
“Hey, Harris!” a voice called out.
“Oh . . . fuck,” Xander said distantly as a crowd of his co-workers, some of them still wearing hard-hats, bellied up to the bar next to him.
“What the hell happened to you?” one of the men demanded, gesturing towards Xander’s belly. “We heard you were off work, but no one told us about this.”
“I . . . uh . . . well, you know I’ve been sick . . . ” Xander began uncertainly.
“Wow, Harris, you really need to lay off the brewskis,” another of the crew exclaimed jovially.
“But this is seltzer,” Xander said, gesturing with his glass. That only made them snicker more loudly.
One of the men slung an arm around Xander as he laughed. “Hey, we were just talking about you the other day. And here we are, feeling bad because poor guy, laying at home, his knee all messed up or something. But really it’s party time at Xander’s place.”
“It’s not a messed up knee, it’s a messed up . . . syndrome,” Xander said lamely. “Didn’t Henderson explain it all to you guys?”
“Oh, those pills they made us take?” one of the men said dismissively. “Listen, Harris, the truth is, you gotta cut back while you’re crashed out on that couch watching your ‘stories’. I mean, that and lay off all those nachos,” he finished to the accompaniment of chortles from the others.
He drew back his hand with a flourish, clearly about to poke Xander firmly in the stomach.
Quick-as-a-flash, Buffy was there, holding the guy’s arm behind his back and pressing him hard against the bar.
“Ow!” the guy cried. “Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!”
“Damn, Harris, who’s your crazy girlfriend?” one of the guys muttered. “Tell her to lay off.”
Buffy’s expression was harsh and dangerous as she twisted the guy’s arm further. “Yeah, see how you like it, you big meanie, about to sucker-punch a guy that’s--”
“Buffy!” Xander cried out sharply.
She released the arm she had in a twist-hold, and coughed. “Um -- a guy that’s -- not able to work because of a disease and then on top of it all gets . . . a . . . parasite.”
At the word parasite, Xander’s eyes began to tear up. Buffy patted his arm and glared at the group of men facing them.
“I wish you wouldn’t call it that, even if you’re joking,” Xander said forlornly. “It’s not . . . okay, I didn’t want it at first . . . but now, it’s part of me. Don’t treat it like it’s this foreign thing.”
The men exchanged looks with each other, and then with Buffy. One of them tapped his skull a little, and the others nodded wisely.
“Hey, I wasn’t going to really punch you,” the man with the twisted arm said. He raised both hands to show he meant no harm, wincing when the one Buffy had had a hold of apparently gave him a twinge.
“Sheesh, I didn’t know you were sick like that,” another one chimed in, a worried look creasing his brow.
“Did something happen with your knee that . . . made you get the, uh, ‘parasite’?” a third asked with some trepidation. A few of the guys raised their eyebrows and then took a not-so-discreet step back.
“My knee’s not even messed up and even if it was it wouldn’t be related, and it’s not catching!” Xander said loudly.
“Okay, that’s okay,” Buffy soothed. A few of the men looked at her sympathetically.
“I am not crazy,” Xander insisted. Everyone nodded kindly, and made their goodbyes in soft, non-threatening tones.
Xander shook his head as he watched them leave the bar. “Great. So now at work they’ll think that I think that I have an alien object growing inside me, sucking my will to live, and making me psychotic.”
Buffy cleared her throat. “Well, that’s a little bit what it’s been like, you know?”
He looked at her blankly and for a moment she thought she had said the wrong thing entirely. Then his face cleared and he laughed. “That was . . . okay, that sucked. You know what I think I need after that?”
“What’s that?” she asked, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggled at his grin.
“Chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.”
“That I can get for you,” she said confidently. “Come on. I keep a stash back at Giles’ place.”
As they got closer to the door, Xander slowed his pace, and Buffy looked at him with concern. “Oddness,” he explained.
They came to a halt, and she cleared her throat. “You know, I didn’t mean the -- the thing about the parasite--”
“No, I know,” Xander said. “Just back there, with the guys . . . ” He shook his head before he continued. “It made me realize the really weird part out of everything that’s happened.”
Buffy nodded and stood very still, unconsciously bracing herself before Xander spoke again.
“It’s not just that I have to do this, or I’m willing to -- but I want it now. The baby -- actually wanting it -- I guess I didn’t expect that part.”
“That seems good,” Buffy said softly. She reached out gingerly to touch his stomach. “Do you think that’s maybe because of the spell?”
He looked down at her small hand on his abdomen and took a deep breath. “Nope. The magic voodoo whammy might have started everything, but this feels pretty damn real to me.” He glanced up and smiled when he saw she was watching him intently. “And I’m starting to think . . . nah, forget it.”
“What?” Buffy asked. “Come on,” she said in a teasing voice when he hesitated.
“I think I just might make an okay parental-type guy,” he said quickly.
She smiled widely at him. “You’ll be a great dad.”
Xander gave her a tentative nod, and then suddenly grinned as they exited the bar. “I sure hope so. Otherwise, Angel’s going to have to pay a hell of a therapy bill for that kid down the line.”
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