A few days after the unsuccessful information gathering and run-in with his co-workers, Xander rose early one morning while Spike was still sleeping, put on a pair of jeans with too-large legs and too-tight waist, and began to toe on his sneakers. He scuffed his right foot in harder when it wouldn't ease into the shoe on the first two tries, then sat down right on the floor and attempted to stuff his foot into it. When he made an attempt with the left shoe, his foot got no more than two-thirds of the way inside.
After counting to twenty slowly and then trying to restart the shoe-wearing operation a few more times, Xander gave up with a muttered curse. He grunted as he righted himself into a standing position, nearly pulling the couch on top of himself when he grasped the back of it for support.
Once he was finally upright, he sighed as he cradled the receiver of the phone in his hand and hit the speed dial. He didn't wait for the person on the other line to speak, just dolefully muttered into the first intake of breath that he heard after the click. "Shoes. Need more shoes again. Got to go to the mall."
"Again?" From the bedroom, a startled voice drifted out from under the pile of blankets on the bed that Xander had just left. "How can you need -- *again*?"
"Stupid vamp sonic hearing," Xander muttered. He turned his attention to the phone again, waiting through some incoherent squealing on the other end of the line before he finally got a reply.
"Shoes!" returned Buffy's ecstatic voice through the receiver. "Sale at Neimann's! Angel's buying! And then we can get iced mochas! And scones!"
"Pick me up in an hour, 'kay?" Xander said by way of goodbye, sliding the phone back onto the base afterwards. He stalked over to the plastic storage bin in the corner of the room that he was throwing his castoff too-small shoes and sneakers into and sighed.
"How?" Now when Xander glanced in the direction of the bedroom, a shock of blonde hear was visible through an opening in the covers. A Spike-shaped lump shifted, then sat upright while still under the comforter. "I mean, do your feet grow overnight? This has got to be the third time --"
Xander stood poised over the container, the offending sneakers in hand. "I know that. Don't you think I know that? What I don't know is why I keep needing bigger shoes." He frowned at the pile in the bin as Spike eased out of the bed and came to lean against the doorframe.
"Think it's something to do with the spell?"
"I don't know. Maybe I'm . . . bloated? Buffy says she gets some kind of water-retaining thing happening when she gets her period." Xander put his hands on his hips and frowned at what he could see of his feet. "And you know, I actually sat there and nodded sympathetically when she explained all about the bloating to me in minute detail, which tells you something about my less-than-stable state of mind."
Spike shook his head, taking a few steps closer as he inspected Xander's feet. "You know, it could be all that weight you've been gaining that's making your feet spread."
Xander looked up, dropping a second pair of shoes into the container with a clatter. "My feet are *spreading*? When do you think they stop spreading? Will they stop? How far can feet spread? Oh my god. Am I going to be walking around with clown shoes on soon?"
" 'Course not, pet," Spike soothed. He moved close enough to run his fingers through Xander's hair comfortingly. "Clown shoes are normal-like. They just have a fake front so they look extra long. No clown shoes for you."
"Are you saying," Xander accused as his voice rose to a distressingly squeaky level, "that even if I *wanted* them, they'd have to make clown shoes *special* for me to wear? With my Clementine-like Scuba-Flipper Sized Big-Foot Dogs?"
"Now, now," Spike said ineffectually.
Xander twisted his fingers slightly in a manner that in no way resembled wringing of hands. "My feet will become so huge that soon even shoeboxes are going to be too small! Am I going to need to leave the house with milk crates strapped to my soles with *twine*?"
Suddenly Xander stopped mid-rant. A beat passed.
"Spike. Did you just say to me '*with all the weight you've gained*'?"
"Well . . . " Spike began to inch away in alarm. He seemed to be searching frantically for suitable words, but he only managed to make a few sputtering sounds.
"Don't say it!" Xander suddenly shrieked at the same time that Spike said nervously "Stay calm, love, just -- just stay calm."
Xander threw back his head and let out a howl. "I *am* calm! If you don't think I'm calm -- well, you don't know from calm!!! This is nothing to get uncalm about! This is -- this is . . ."
Xander stopped abruptly.
His eyes widened.
Spike's gaze darted nervously back and forth in search of escape, from the floppy mess of the covers on the mattress to the door directly behind Xander that led to the hallway outside the apartment.
Xander burst into tears, ran into the bathroom, and slammed the door.
After glaring at the sneakers that were to blame for everything, Spike picked up the phone and hit redial. "Slayer? Make it an hour an' a half, alright?"
There was a clatter from the bathroom, followed by heated cursing and a muffled sob or two.
"Make it two hours. And you'd best bring doughnuts."
***
The trip to the mall was a huge success.
Buffy convinced Xander to buy a few pairs of shoes a half size up in addition to the ones that already fit just in case. "And if you don't need them, you'll just keep them in the box and return them. And if you *do* need them, then it's like you saved money for when you *will* need them, because, you know -- "
"Sale," said Xander cheerfully. "Guess it's like Angel's the one who saved the money, though, considering he's footing the bill."
"That's true," Buffy said with a frown. "Plus, we saved even more with the special card-holder's coupon that I had. Angel should thank me when we get back. I'm practically earning him cash."
Xander nodded. He'd spent too much time around girls not to know how their monetary calculations allowed them to earn money by spending it. "That's extra money for delicious whipped coffee drinks, though," he offered.
Buffy grinned at him as she flipped up her ringing cell phone. "Angel? We'll be back after we load up on carbs and sugar."
Xander sat on the bench nearby and scouted the area for bathrooms. He had to go all the time, practically, and even when he didn't he went just in case.
Buffy listened to Angel talk while she pursed her lips at her nails. "What was that? Oh, okay, a . . . I've never heard of that kind of demon. Well -- we'll have to wait until tonight, anyway, so there's no point in me and Xander rushing back . . . Oh, and guess what? We bought Xander a bunch of shoes, but you barely paid a fraction of what they're actually worth."
Xander shrugged when he heard Angel's voice raising.
Buffy nodded impatiently at something Angel said. "Hmm? You can tell me all about it later, honey. I'm going to take Xander out to lunch with the money we saved from the shoes." She clicked her cell shut on the sputtering Angel-sounds and smiled down at Xander.
"Are we lunching?" Xander asked with good cheer. When she hesitated, he patted the spot on the bench next to him and after she sat down waited for her to speak.
"Xander? I'm glad -- I mean, I'm not glad Willow is out of town right now, but . . . I guess I'm just glad that I'm the one around for some of this stuff." She gestured towards the shoes, around the mall, and at Xander himself.
Xander grinned back at her. They all silently acknowledged that Willow was the anchor that centered them as friends. Willow was his best friend and always had been; there was no question about that. And as much as Xander got Buffy in some ways, Willow knew what was going on in Buffy's mind before Buffy even knew it. Yet here the anchor was away on matters Wiccan-related, and here the two of them were at the mall, smiling at each other like a couple of goons. Granted, he was the goon who was goonishly pregnant, but it was still a nice moment.
Buffy moved closer to him on the bench, and slid her arms neatly above his large stomach as he bent to kiss the top of her head. "I'm glad, Buff . . . glad I could have you here for this."
She burrowed her head into the point where his shoulder and neck met for a second, and he smoothed her hair gently. Then she drew back laughing and pulled them both to their feet. "Let's go -- there's a really pricey French bistro that just opened up!"
"Angel will love hearing about that," Xander said agreeably as they headed towards the restaurant arm-in-arm.
* * *
Xander was already sporting the half-size-up sneakers a few days later when he joined Buffy and Oz and Giles for a research roundup.
"I feel sure that we're coming closer to a feasible solution," Giles said emphatically, breaking a long period of silence.
Buffy, Xander, and Oz exchanged glances from their positions sitting in a row on Giles' couch. Xander had been staring blindly at his musty text for the better part of an hour, Oz had taking notes from the volume on his lap with the occasional "huh," and Buffy had been frowning at her book, turning it around at regular intervals to try to determine which way was up.
"Anything from Willow's end?" Xander asked Oz.
"Nothing yet." Oz shrugged and scratched his elbow. "Though she's having her Coven-Forming Seminar friends focus their energy on the problem."
"Well, we've got to come up with something soon. Angel's going crazy about it," Buffy said with a sigh.
"The bill for the crib and the bassinette got there?" Xander asked sympathetically.
"And he saw the receipt for the Baby Gap shopping spree," Buffy said in a low voice.
"But we don't know if it's a boy or a girl or a . . ." Oz waved vaguely. "How can you buy it clothes yet?"
"We got sets of both just to make sure," Buffy said. "And socks! Socks are gender free."
"Trust me, we can dress the baby in pink or green or blue or whatever, and it won't care," Xander said. "When I was a baby, I wore my cousin Susan's cast-offs, and it didn't affect me at all."
"I've seen the pictures from Willow's album," Oz confirmed. "You looked cute in lilac."
"See?" Xander asked pointlessly. He turned the page of his book and blinked rapidly at it. "You know, we're never going to figure this out. Too bad *I'm* not a Glazbroth. Bet those demons have the solution all worked out for their pregnant pal."
Buffy nodded but then wrinkled her nose. "But somehow if you could see the scales you'd be sporting, I'm guessing that wouldn't seem like such an attractive option."
"I don't know," Xander said with a grin. "Scales, you never know when those are going to come in handy, and--"
"Yes, of course," Giles interrupted excitedly. He pulled off his glasses in one swift motion. "This is precisely the path we should have been pursuing!"
"Uh, Giles?" Xander broke in. "See, I think you missed the idle chatter part of that exchange. I'm not *really* looking to be a Glaz'broth demon, and while scales would probably help with patrol, I'm thinking they'd cramp my style overall."
"Ask the Glaz'broths what they will do for their impregnated kin!" Giles continued on. "I cannot believe that such a solution did not occur to us before this moment!"
"Oh, yeah," Oz said in surprise. "That would be a thing."
"I call finders fee," Xander said quickly. "What?" he asked when they all turned to face him. "So I didn't figure it out exactly, but if I hadn't been saying whatever came into my head out loud, you wouldn't have worked out the answer, right?"
"So we get Angel to talk to the clan leaders -- explain what's happening and see if they can point us in the right direction," Buffy said. "I'll go find him now, see how soon he can meet with them and get the scoop."
With that she gave Xander's hand a squeeze and headed out the front door.
"Finally," Giles said as though to himself, rubbing his eyes before putting his glasses back on. "At last it seems as though this will all work out with no danger or life-threat--" He stopped when Xander stared at him disbelievingly. "Er. Not that it wouldn't have worked out perfectly well all along. Of course, I have had every confidence -- That is to say -- when one considers --"
"You might want to stop there," Oz advised kindly.
"You know, if my feet didn't kill me, and every part of me didn't creak when I tried to stand, I'd so be contemplating thwacking you on the head right now," Xander said in a conversational tone. "As it is, I'll just say you owe me mint chocolate chip ice cream."
Giles sighed. "Xander, you can hardly blame me for wanting to relieve as much worry from you as possible. I'm sorry I wasn't clearer about my misgivings to start with, but I did have your welfare in mind."
"Yeah, 'course," Xander said in a quiet voice. "It's not like it hasn't occurred to me, you know, that . . . this could be a dangerous thing." He glanced down at his body and then looked up at Giles soberly. "But we don't know if this will work either, do we?"
Giles sat next to Xander on the couch and gave him a few awkward pats on the knee. Oz nudged him reassuringly from the other side, and closed his book solemnly.
"I don't wish to mislead you, Xander," Giles said. "No, we can't be sure until we hear what the clan leaders have had to say. Right now, though, it's the only hope we have."
*****
Angel, as the arbiter of the earlier demon truce, did get the Glaz'broth to weigh in on the situation, though after two nights of meetings had passed Buffy and even Oz were far jumpier than usual. When Buffy asked Giles how Xander could stand the waiting, Giles offered his theory that Xander's oddly calm behavior was induced by a steady supply of ice-cream.
Spike was the most edgy, not least because Angel had effectively banned him from the confabulations, and his rapid pacing and menacing mutterings eventually sent Buffy out on the third night to go see if Angel was ready to report back.
"Not like I don't have a direct interest in things," he grumbled to Giles. They'd had a call an hour earlier that Buffy and Angel finally were due to arrive with information, and had all agreed to gather at Giles' apartment.
"I believe that was precisely the reason Angel felt you might hinder the proceedings," Giles noted.
"Could have sped it all up," Spike said with conviction. "Angel's taking entirely too long, letting those demons set the pace."
"Guess they are the ones with the info; they get to go at their speed," Oz said. "Plus . . . did they even know about Spike and Xander and how exactly the first box of magical spell stuff got put into play? 'Cause I'd bet that news would take up some explaining time."
Xander looked up from his spot on one of Giles' kitchen stools and put down his bowl of cherry chocolate-chip with fudge sauce on the counter. "Hey, I never thought about that. Maybe they're really mad at us for that. Do you think --"
"Hey," Angel said quietly as he opened the door. Buffy followed inside on his heels.
"Are they mad?" Xander asked them anxiously.
"They've had time to deal," Buffy said dismissively. "They got their stuff eventually, and they've been totally focused on the baby demon on the way. So mad . . . was not the reaction."
"What happened?" Spike demanded. "You get them to help us? What happens next? And if they didn't tell us anything, when do we get to beat them to a pile of bloody scales?"
"Relax," Angel growled. "It took a little while to get the terms settled, but now that they know about Xander's condition, they've agreed to share their background delivery techniques for a parent who isn't equipped for it."
Giles stepped forward. "Buffy said that they weren't angry, but what did the Glaz'broth say when they found out about Xander's condition?"
Buffy and Angel exchanged glances. Angel folded his arms and then unfolded them. "They, uh . . . well, they thought it was kind of funny," Angel answered.
"*Funny*?" Xander asked in a high-pitched voice as he held his ice-cream bowl close to his chest. Buffy crossed the room quickly to stand beside Xander.
"Part of it was, well . . . what's going on with you. They didn't know it could work on a human," Angel explained. He waved his hand in the vague direction of Xander's belly.
"Well, I'm glad I gave them a chuckle," Xander said sharply. "Wacky human here, all about amusing the demon world with my pregnant antics."
"What was the other part?" Oz asked.
"They thought we were kind of dumb not to ask them about it before now," Angel said neutrally.
"Now wait just a minute," Giles started in. "Had we known that they would have information to share, we would have asked them far sooner."
"Okay, fine," Buffy said briskly. "We may have dropped the ball at first, but we figured it out. The point is, they can help, and we don't have to worry any more about how this thing will work."
"Besides," Xander said almost as if to himself. "They probably do this kind of thing all the time."
Angel cleared his throat. "To be honest, they only do it once every four hundred years or so. For the first part of the spell even to take effect, moons and things have to be lined up the right way."
"No wonder they got miffed when Spike and Xander hijacked their box of sparkles," Oz remarked.
"So with a cycle of four hundred years, it's not like they get tons of chance to practice," Angel concluded.
"And that is so not a comforting speculation," Xander muttered.
"Yes, they only do it every four hundred years. But these guys live forever, so this is practically old hat to them," Buffy assured Xander.
"Just tell me how it works," Xander said. He took a deep breath, and allowed Spike to guide him over to one of the comfortable chairs around the coffee table.
"That's the best part," Buffy said with a bright smile. "They just lay their, uh, hand-like appendages on you and poof, there's the baby. No muss, and not so much fuss."
"Poof," Xander echoed. "That easy, huh?"
"They won't just poof everything into some portal, or hurtle the baby through the ether, will they?" Spike asked.
Xander made a small, strangled noise and Buffy shook her head at Spike. "Stop that. You keep getting yourself and Xander over-excited. It'll be fine. Xander'll be fine. The baby will be fine."
"The baby will be fine," Angel repeated firmly to Xander. Xander nodded and took another deep breath, but he did seem far more relieved.
"The baby?" Spike stepped back suddenly, as though the wind had been knocked out of him. He stumbled a bit then sank heavily into a chair that Giles had discreetly slid towards him. "Baby," he rasped.
"Exactly. The baby," Buffy said with some annoyance. "Now, Giles and the book knowledge are definitely going to come in handy here. Angel skimmed some of the volumes that the Glaz'broth gave us, and there's some stuff about what we'll need for the birth --"
"Air," Spike said frantically. "Got to get some air." He got to his feet and lurched unsteadily towards the door.
"Oh, like he even needs to breathe," Xander said under his breath as the door slammed. He shrugged his shoulders as though it was no big deal, but his eyes were trained on the exit route Spike had taken. "Hell of a time finally to get what's happening."
"Maybe someone should go talk to him," Buffy said to Angel in a quiet voice as she quickly moved closer to him.
"Yeah. Probably help, talking," Angel agreed. He looked at Buffy, at Giles, at Xander, at Oz, all of whom were looking back at him. "What?"
"Maybe *you* should be the one to talk to him," Buffy said. She placed her hand on his arm reassuringly. "You know. Vampire to vampire."
"Me?" Angel asked incredulously. "Why should I --"
"You want to stay here and help out on this end?" Buffy asked him in a low fierce voice, tilting her head towards Xander, who was turning a deep shade of red and opening his shining eyes very, very wide.
"Talk, right," Angel said in a rush, almost scrambling to leave the apartment.
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