blairprovence | FIC Futures (2/3) (BUFFY)

"She was an absolute bitch, Willow," Buffy said, cradling the phone between her shoulder and her ear. She lay supine on the big king-sized bed, her pink silk pajama top partially unbuttoned to reveal her swelling stomach. She rubbed the distended skin with baby oil, doing a conscientiously thorough job - after all, she didn't want stretch marks to mar her youthful figure. To hell with you, Neufield... "I finally pointed out to her that Giles would never go for someone like her, even if I *weren't* in the picture. And then I think I might have mentioned how incredibly *old* she was."

Willow giggled as she relayed Buffy's words to her boyfriend. Buffy could hear the indistinct murmur of Oz's reply in the background. "Sounds as if you picked the wrong party to go to," Willow said when she returned to the line. "Devon's was a blast and a half."

"Yeah, well..." She drew a figure eight on her gleaming skin. "When I'm with people who know me from Sunnydale High, it's like *weirdness*, you know? They all stare at me like they're trying to figure out if Giles and I were going at it behind the Art/Lit shelves during study hall."

Willow's reply was a choked laugh and a gulp.

"What? Willow?"

"It's nothing..."

Buffy frowned. "Don't give me that. I know you, Willow. What is it?"

Willow sighed. "It is nothing, Buffy - it's just...do you remember Lenny Stiles?"

"Mmm...is that Lenny-I-Never-Met-A-Joint-I-Didn't-Like from fourth period French?"

"That's him," Willow agreed. "He's a friend of the Dingoes new keyboard guy, and he was at the party tonight, and he...well, he'd heard some things and he asked about you."

"You mean he asked you if Giles and I were doing the horizontal mambo behind the encyclopedia section during senior year?" Her voice was wry, masking her embarrassment.

"Um, in the book cage, actually. Lenny's still a little..."

"Got it," Buffy replied as the door to the bathroom opened and a robe-clad Giles emerged. "Are we still on for lunch on Thursday?"

"Yup," Willow affirmed. "Say hi to Giles and Gertrude for me."

"Wilhelmina."

"What?"

"Never mind," Buffy said, smiling. "I'll see you Thursday. Tell Oz goodnight."

"Bye."

Buffy hung up the phone. "Willow says hi."

Giles pulled a hanger from the closet and reached for the suit coat laid out on the bed. "How was the party?"

"She said it went well. The record guy came, and he stayed for the whole thing, and now Devon's convinced they're gonna be the next Beatles. Get this, Oz even admitted to being 'a little bit excited.'"

His eyes twinkled at her sham amazement. "Oh no, I believe that's one of the signs of the Apocalypse, isn't it? I must consult my books."

"Not tonight, you're not," she told him, patting the space next to her on the bed. "You've already gone above and beyond the call. Time to go night-night."

He rolled his eyes at her as he crossed the room to flip the switch for the overhead light. "Save that for Wilhelmina, Buffy."

"Mmm." She rolled ponderously on her side as Giles shucked his robe and slipped into bed next to her. "What do you think of Hortense?"

He levered himself up on his elbow and smiled down at her. "I think that might qualify as child abuse, actually." His smile faded abruptly, and he fell back against the pillow, closing his eyes.

"Hey," she said, frowning and reaching for his arm, "Hortense is out, no problem, don't worry about it."

He shook his head. "It's not that, Buffy."

She scooted toward him. "Then what is it?" He remained silent. "Hey, come on, tell me. Remember - the truth, always. We promised."

Sighing, he nodded and opened his eyes. "All right. I...I heard you, on the phone with Willow. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but-" Buffy cut him off, clearly chagrined.

"Look, Giles, I'm sorry about what I said to Professor Bitch, but she really did ask for it. I-"

"I take no issue with anything you might have said to Margaret Neufield," he assured her, his expression conveying his distaste for the woman. "I have no idea what her problem is, nor do I care, but she has no right to attempt to intimidate you."

"Don't worry about it, I don't intimidate easily," she told him, relieved that he didn't appear to be angry. "And I know what her problem is - she wants you."

His eyebrows flew upward. "What?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "She wants you. She's drooling for your bod, she's warm for your form-"

"That's ridiculous!"

She laughed at his sputtering outrage. "Why is that ridiculous, Giles? I mean, look at her - she's totally plugged in to that whole academic thing. The college is her entire life, and Willow told me there are all sorts of rumors about her and just about every guy on the faculty. And let's face it - compared to most of them, you're practically Adonis - or at least Harrison Ford in the Indiana Jones movies."

Her quip made him smile. "Adonis, hmmm?" he murmured, reaching out to trail a finger along her arm.

"I said 'practically'," she reminded him impishly, "but I do have to admit that in this instance, her taste is impeccable. Fortunately, so is yours." She batted her eyelashes at him.

He leaned forward to kiss her softly. "You think so?"

"Yup," she breathed against his lips, flicking them with her tongue, "but don't think you're going to distract me with your manly charms. If what I said about Neufield isn't bugging you, then what's wrong?"

He leaned back again and stared up at the ceiling. "It was what you said...about being uncomfortable with people who know you from Sunnydale High."

Her brow furrowed. "Do you think I care what Lenny the Junkie thinks about us?"

"Was he the one who wore a Grateful Dead t-shirt to school every day?"

Buffy nodded. "Giles, I'm impressed. I had no idea you even knew who the Grateful Dead were...or is it 'was'? I never can keep that straight. But, yeah, him."

"Well, I don't suppose you do care what he thinks. But I'm very much concerned that you feel uncomfortable with your friends."

"I don't," she assured him, reached out to caress his cheek with her hands. "Not my *real* friends."

"You would have enjoyed Devon's party much more than the president's fete this evening. But you didn't go, you came with me. Why?"

"I-" she turned away, afraid he'd read the truth in her eyes. "I wanted to be with you."

"What else?" She didn't answer. "The truth, remember?"

Buffy sighed. "All right." She bit her lip. "I guess I thought you didn't *want* me to go with you. And being the irrational pregnant woman that I am, of course that made me want to go."

He grimaced guiltily. "I don't know how it manages to slip my mind sometimes how incredibly perceptive you are." She rolled over to meet his gaze, raising an eyebrow. "I *didn't* want you to go," he confessed. "I had a feeling the experience would be a decidedly unpleasant one, and I thought to spare you from it, that's all."

They regarded each other silently for a moment, the only sound in the room the susurration of their muted breathing. "What did the president say to you?"

"It doesn't matter, Buffy."

"I think it does," she disagreed softly. "Tell me."

He shook his head. "It wasn't what he said, Buffy...it was what he didn't say."

Buffy waited, but he added nothing further, and she rolled her eyes. "I can't believe I called *Angel* Cryptic Guy," she muttered.

That prompted a small smile. "Sorry. But it really isn't important, Buffy."

"And you know what? I might believe that if you tell me right now, but if you don't, then I'll know that it *is*."

He inhaled, then exhaled gustily. "Buffylogic," he muttered mimicking her tone. "All right, all right. To put it simply, there was a rumor going around the department about the opening for the Early Modern British position."

She leaned forward, interested. "What was the rumor?"

"That they were going to offer the job to me."

"But that's great! Isn't it? I mean, geez, Giles, you're wasted on Western Civ classes, and it would mean a ton less grading to do, right? And more money, too."

"It would have," he agreed gently. "They're not going to offer me the job, Buffy."

"Why not?" She studied his calm expression. "It's because of me, isn't it?"

He had to look away. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do," she insisted. "They didn't offer it to you because of me. But I don't understand, Giles. We've been married for months now - it's not like I was the big New Year shocker at the party."

"No," he agreed slowly, "but they weren't aware you were pregnant."

Her breath caught in her throat. "Oh, God. Oh, God, you didn't tell them? It was a secret?"

"No," he rushed to assure her, "Of course it wasn't. But they aren't my friends, Buffy. We don't sit around drinking tea, chatting about our lives."

She bit her lip and turned her head toward the wall, so he wouldn't see the tears gathering in her eyes. "I understand."

"No, you don't." He sighed, reached over, and hauled her up against his side. "I love you, Buffy. I love you, and I love our daughter, little Wilhelmina Gertrude Hortense. I am so proud to be with you, to have created a child with you." He kissed her silken hair. "And I will not allow the attitudes of small-minded, petty, arrogant people to sully that. I won't!"

She snuggled closer, winding her fingers between the buttons of his blue silk pajama top. "Okay, I really do understand now. It's like when I told Mom, isn't it? I knew she wouldn't be happy for me, and that made me...well, I understand what you mean."

He reached one hand down to caress her swollen belly. "What did Neufield say to you?"

She shook her head against his chest. "Doesn't matter."

"No, it doesn't," he agreed, "but I very much doubt she will be willing to let this go. I think it's best I know everything."

"Fair enough." She compressed her lips, trying to recall their words. "Well, she basically called me a child - a fat child - and then she accused me of getting pregnant to trap you before you figured out how wrong I was for you."

He muttered a curse under his breath. "Bloody interfering bitch...I'm sorry, Buffy."

She tightened her embrace. "Don't be. I don't care what she thinks. We know the truth."

"Yes, we do," he whispered, almost absently. "And the opposite is very much closer to the truth than her twisted version."

She frowned and raised her head to look at him. "What does that mean?"

He ran a hand through her hair, smoothing the rumpled silk. "It means that if any trapping were involved, it was on my part, not yours."

She rose up further, allowing her elbow to dig into his chest. He winced. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Giles? You didn't trap me!"

"It's-...I just...," he closed his eyes and sighed, "sometimes I feel I've done you a great disservice by loving you."

"How can you say that?" she sputtered. "*How*?"

He reached up to caress her cheek. "You've heard the litany, Buffy. Your mother recites it for you every time you speak to her. Your position as Slayer has already taken so many choices from you...and now, becoming my wife, having my child..."

"That's what choices are, Giles!" she told him, exasperated. "You pick some things, and not other things. You can't go through your entire life *not* choosing things, just to leave your options open. It doesn't work that way."

"But we could have waited...I could have waited."

"Well, *I* couldn't have!" she replied, stung. "What exactly do you think I'm missing out on, anyway, Giles? Keg parties? College boys who just want me for sex?"

"No, of course not. But you envy Willow at times, do you not? The freedom, the dorm, the clubs...the unknown future?"

She bit her lip, unwilling to admit the partial truth of his statements. "Sometimes," she said finally, hating herself for the hurt in his eyes. "But it doesn't mean anything, Giles. It's like when I look at pictures of me from my Dorothy Hamill phase, and I think that I should have held on to that Olympic dream a little longer, you know? It's just...not relevant." She kissed him softly. "And most of my feelings about the future have more to do with being afraid I won't have *this* one, not resenting the loss of some other phantom life."

"What do you mean?" he asked seriously.

"We're going to have a baby," she whispered, her eyes huge and dark. "A baby. And I'm so afraid that I won't be able to see her grow up...to see her learn to crawl, to walk...to send her off on her first day of school, to see her graduate like I did..." He reached up to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. "I want to take care of you in your doddering old age, Giles, and see you rock our grandchildren to sleep. And I'm so afraid that I won't get the chance." She buried her face in his chest, embracing him with arms of iron. "Don't think that you've taken my future, Giles. You've given me my future, and all I want now is to be able to live it! That's *all* I want."

"You'll have it," he whispered fiercely, hugging her for all he was worth. "I will do everything in my power to give that to you. *Everything*!"

"I know that - I *do*," she said, smiling through her tears. "We just have to remember how lucky we are, okay? No matter what idiotic professors, college presidents, and mothers think."

He looked deeply into her eyes, seeing all the love in the world contained within. "We have a bargain, then," he whispered, nodding.

Part 3