Work Text:
Pancakes
by Ragna
It hurts. It hurts so bad, sitting here alone, with my rounded belly and this life absorbed by this...thing...inside me. How can it be? I mean, he was a vampire. He was dead.
I can't even think of my baby as a baby. And I have no one to turn to, except Xander. I mean, I thought he would turn away too, but he hasn't. He wants to kill Spike now, and I don't blame him. There are times I want to kill him, too. Actually, it's rare, those times when I don't want to kill him.
A whiff of cinnamon reminds me that, before I started thinking about the baby, I was in the process of making apple cinnamon pancakes. It's a little hard with my belly bumping into the stove, but I'll manage.
I'd ask Willow to help, but...
It's easy to make the pancakes because it's directed. Break the eggs into a mixing bowl, add the milk, add the Bisquik, add the apples you chopped up earlier, sprinkle in a dusting of cinnamon, stir it all together, measure out a quarter cup, pour into a hot skillet. It's one of those things that's easy to do, so easy.
I know it's late, but I really was craving pancakes.
The heat coming up from the stove and my lack of energy is starting to make me sway. I'm not worried I'll pass out, though. There's a stool if I need one.
All it would have taken was saying no. Or better yet, staking the bastard. I could have pushed a stake into his back, even through the layers of leather and silk. I should have. I never should have let it go as far as it did. If I hadn't let it go that far...
How could a vampire get me pregnant? Is it because I'm the Slayer? And for it to be his child...will it be human or vampire? Will it have a soul? Oh God, please, let it have a soul. Let it be human.
Let my child be human.
Damn it, I burned the pancake. I really should be having someone else make them for me. Maybe I'll call Xander, and he can come over and make pancakes, and we can talk.
Yeah, I think I'd like that.