What a Wonderful World
by Shyfox
Gimme Some Truth
[reviews]
Chapter Two
Gimme Some Truth
I'm sick and tired of hearing things
From uptight, short-sighted, narrow-minded hypocritics
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth
I've had enough of reading things
By neurotic, psychotic, pig-headed politicians
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth
--John Lennon
"Give Me Some Truth"
"Looks like I killed you this time!" Faith intoned when the knife entered Buffy's body.
The terrible laughter of her nemesis fouled her ears, as Buffy struggled to stand, the pain of the knife wound protesting her every move. She ignored that pain, and the following numbness that signaled that her body was going into shock. All that mattered now was to get that madwoman away from her wife. Nothing was going to happen to Willow and her baby, of that she was certain.
She tried to tackle Faith, but her strength wasn't up to the task. She charged clumsily toward her enemy, but Faith was easily able to sidestep Buffy's attempt to take her down. With the last iota of her strength, Buffy found herself laying in an unglorious heap on the roof, the dark slayer standing over her. As her consciousness faded in and out from the loss of blood, Buffy thought she heard the keening wail of her beloved in pain. "W-w-wil-low?" she murmured, her fear producing just enough adrenalin for her to raise her head.
"She can't hear you now," Faith giggled, as she stood over the defeated Slayer. "In fact, she can't do much of anything now, or ever again!" Buffy felt somthing warm and wet land on her chest, as Faith laughed loudly. She glanced down at the object that Faith threw at her. A red bloody mass, with a large head and stunted limbs.
A human fetus.
"Congratulations, B," the mad Slayer laughed. "It's a girl!" With the last of her life's breath, Buffy screamed--
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--and screamed as her head rose from the pillow. She sat up suddenly, looking around her, recognizing the familiar surroundings of her bed. Their bed. She calmed herself, willing her heart to slow, meditating as Giles had taught her. She didn't want to awaken her sleeping love with her nightmares. She glanced to her side, to where Willow usually slept.
That side of her bed was empty.
Suddenly Buffy was afraid. After dreaming of Willow's death at the hands of her enemy, to see the space next to her empty was too much. She jumped out of bed, threw on her robe and rushed out into the hall. She heard familiar, friendly sounds from the living room. Wallace Shawn was shouting to Robin Wright, "Do you know what that sound is, Princess? Those are the Shrieking Eels!" And the voices of her mother and her wife, chatting happily over the movie.
Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. She slowly walked down the stairs, seeing her family gathered in the living room, watching Willow's favorite movie, "The Princess Bride". Buffy smiled; her wife was happy, their unborn baby was healthy, and all was right in her world.
"Hey, Wills," she asked, causing Willow to turn her head toward the sound of her voice. "Whatcha doing?"
"Oh, hi, Buffy," Willow answered, beckoning her wife to join her on the couch. Buffy complied happily, slipping next to Willow on the couch, snuggling close to her shoulder. Her hand trailed lazily across Willow's distented abdomen, feeling the warmth of the life within her.
Buffy noticed a half-empty pickle jar on the coffee table, and asked, "You here for the midnight snack?"
"What can I say?" Willow answered, smacking her lips on a kosher dill spear, "I'm embracing the cliche." She reached over to the coffee table and scooped up some ice cream from a dish in front of her, with the tip of her pickle. She opened her mouth wide, and inserted the entire picke, ice cream and all, swallowing quickly. Buffy, for the first time in recent memory, couldn't look at Willow. She averted her eyes from the horrible sight with her hand, and grimaced hugely. Willow looked at her love and asked, "What's the matter?"
Buffy shook her head in disbelief, saying, "You didn't just dip a dill pickle spear into a dish of tin-roof sundae ice cream, did you? There's no way you would do something like that."
"It's called a craving, Buffy," Willow smiled sympathetically at her wife.
"That's nothing, honey," Joyce added, grimacing herself. "When I was carrying Buffy, my thing was sushi. Any kind, anywhere, as long as it involved raw fish, I'd eat it." Buffy chuckled as her mother's face contorted in mild disgust at the memory.
"Still," Buffy complained. "Pickles and ice cream? I mean, how sixties sitcom can you get?"
"Oh poor baby," Willow teased her love. She put the offending dish aside, and leaned back into Buffy's side, cherishing the easy closeness they shared. Buffy smiled at her beloved, returning her hand to caress her belly, to feel the subtle movement of the fetus within her. Willow purred her happiness; this contact was what she craved more than any ice-cream based travesty.
But soon, Willow noted something wrong with Buffy. Her pulse was quicker, and it wasn't passion. And the faint dampness on Buffy's arm was all-too familiar to someone who slept in Buffy's arms on a regular basis. It could only be one thing.
"You have a nightmare, Buffy?" Willow asked her soulmate. Buffy nodded quietly, as she recalled the terrible, sickening sensations of her dream.
"It was that night again," she explained without preamble. There was no need to elaborate; Willow and Joyce both knew what she meant when she said 'that night'. "But in the dream I wasn't able to stop her. She--she carved the--the--"
"Don't, Buffy," Willow soothed her wife, taking her face in her hand to dry any tears. "It didn't happen that way. Faith tried to destroy us, and she failed. It's okay. You're back, I'm okay, the baby's okay, and nothing's gonna take you away from me again, Buffy." Willow kissed her lightly on the lips, and Buffy's heart melted as it always did under her wife's affection. Buffy had counted on Willow to do or say what was necessary for so long, even before she realized how deeply she loved her, that it had finally dawned on her at some point that she always could.
Joyce smiled as she watched her daughter and her daughter-in-law in such an easy display of affection. After all that had happened between them after Faith's attack on their lives, it did her heart good to see Buffy and Willow together again. But there was still one matter she felt the need to confront.
"Buffy," she started, hesitantly, "I hate to break up this domestic scene, but I feel the need to ask something." Buffy cocked her head toward her mother, waiting expectantly. "Buffy," she continued, "why didn't you tell us that Mr. Rosenberg was the one who arranged for you to be locked in that psychiatric ward in L.A?"
Willow's eyes snapped open suddenly. She knew that she would have to confront Buffy about this soon, but had hoped to hold off for a while, until she and Buffy had gotten their groove back. She glanced at Buffy, who's face suddenly bore a look of sheer confusion. Buffy looked at her mother, then at Willow, and stammered, "Who-who are you? Where am I--"
Willow rolled her eyes, while Joyce simply said, "Oh no, Buffy, you're not getting out of it that easily. You showed us the papers that Mr Rosenberg signed against you while you were still amnesiac, we know what he did to you. I just want to know why you kept it a secret."
Buffy turned her head toward Willow, who simply nodded. She was curious as well, but didn't want to press Buffy if it made her uncomfortable. Buffy hung her head in defeat, groaning, "This is going to be worse than when you found that old Playboy mag in my closet, isn't it, Wills?"
Willow smiled reasuringly at Buffy; "Don't worry, Buffy," she said, "I'm not angry. Well, I am, just not at you. I just wanted to know why he would do this to us? And why you didn't press charges against him?"
"Oh yeah, way to score points with my wife," Buffy grumbled. "Put her dad in jail. I couldn't do that to him. No matter what he did to me, he's still your father. I didn't want to be the one to take that away from you." She lowered her head, hoping that they would understand. "I just hoped that Ira would finally wise up and accept Willow, accept you for the wonderful woman you really are, not for what he wants you to be."
"Flatterer," Willow teased her wife, as her head came to rest in her lap. Joyce shook her head, amazed at how her daughter had kept all this inside of her all this time. "I appreciate what you tried to do, Buff, but it's too late for him and me. He made his choice, and as much as it hurts to say it, I can't forgive him for what he did to you. He didn't do this to protect me, but to protect his own reputation, to hurt you and punish me for going against his wishes. You held out the possibility that he and I could reconcile, but that ship's sailed. I can't let him back in my life again. He crossed the line and he can't go back."
Buffy's heart ached as she heard these words coming from her wife's lips. She never knew Willow to be so harsh, but she understood why Willow was saying these things. Joyce also sympathized with Willow's plight. The young wiccan had won her affection in the short time she and Buffy had been together, and she only hoped that she could fill the void left by her hateful father.
Willow felt a little self-conscious under the scrutiny of the others. "Don't worry," she assured them, "it's not like I lost a family. Mom and I have been talking recently. I suspect that all Dad--Ira, I mean, did was alienate himself. Mom just move out of the house, and she hasn't spoken to him since Buffy's been in the hospital. Oh, and she wants to have lunch with us next week, Buff," she suddenly announced. "She even called you by the right name. There's hope yet. As for Ira, well, I won't rat on him, as long as he steers clear of us. I can't forgive him, but I can be civil. But the next stunt he pulls, I'll bring him down myself."
"I guess," Buffy said. "Wills, I wish I could make things right between you and your dad. I know what it's like to have a father pretty much out of your life, I didn't want you to suffer that same pain."
"I know," Willow nodded. "But you didn't do this. He did. He chose to hurt me. And he's facing the consequences. As for you," she leveled a penetrating gaze into Buffy's eyes as she spoke, "as much as I appreciate you trying to smooth things over between me and Ira, what I'd rather have from you is honesty. You don't have to protect me from everything, just be honest with me. Deal?"
"Pinky swear," Buffy extended her pinky to Willow, who linked her finger with Buffy's. As they disengaged, Buffy added, "On that subject, honesty and all that, I have an announcement to make." She coughed for effect, making sure she had her audience's attention; "Gang, Giles and I were talking today. And he announced that, thanks to my dumb stunt regarding Faith, a new Slayer has been called." Joyce gasped as she realized how close her daughter was to death because of the Dark Slayer. "In fact, he told me that I should consider retiring as the current Slayer." She waited a few seconds for her words to sink in.
"Retire--" Joyce weighed the word slowly, hope dawning in her eyes. "You mean, it's over? You can live a normal life again?"
"Well, normal, in as far as that goes," Willow added, "considering she fathered a child with another woman, and can probably take on Jackie Chan three falls out of three--"
"Hello," Buffy interrupted, smiling slightly, "in the room here." Joyce and Willow giggled nervously, and shut up while Buffy continued. "Yes, he said I should hang up Mr. Pointy and start a normal life. And believe me, the idea gives me happies like you wouldn't believe. But," she stalled, not sure how to word the rest of her thought.
Her words were unnecessary; Willow understood completely. "You don't know if you can just give it up that easy, huh?"
"Buffy," Joyce said, a little motherly sternness edging his voice. "I think you should listen to Giles. You're going to be a mother soon. Mixing that with being the Slayer, that's too dangerous."
"I know," Buffy admitted, shaking her head. "But what about turning my back on what's out there? I know what's out there, more than anyone else." She sat silently as she considered her options.
Joyce looked at her daughter, wishing she could shoulder part of her terrible burden, or even fully understand it. Ever since that terrible night when Buffy came back home after running away to Los Angeles, ever since she realized how much responsibility her daughter was carrying, Joyce had tried to be there for Buffy, to do whatever she could to ease her burden. Part of it was an effort to make up for her past mistakes, her own shortsightedness, but knowing what was out there, Joyce couldn't simply sit back and do nothing. Not while her daughter was risking life and limb on a regular basis.
Joyce mused aloud, hoping her daughter and daughter-in-law would understand; "I always tried to think of your life as, I don't know, like being a cop or a fire-fighter. You know, line of fire, always on call, that sort of thing. But you make it sound like something more. Like a calling. I never fully understood that, but I've always tried to accept it."
"I know, Mom, and thanks," Buffy smiled slightly at her mother. "It's just that, well, it's like more than just a job. Like I can't stop being the Slayer. I don't have an switch that I can just flip on and off. This is what I am. Besides, I can't say I liked the person I was before Merrick first came into my life and told me."
"Believe me, Buffy," Joyce quipped, "there are times when I wish you were that flighty, fashion conscious girl from Hemery."
Willow glanced at her wife, arching an eyebrow in an imitation of Mr. Spock. "Flighty? You? I must have missed that."
"Oh yeah," Buffy said, slightly embarrassed at the observation. "My only goals during my freshman year were to go to France, marry Christian Slater and die."
"Well, tell Slater that he can stop waiting by the phone," Willow quipped, linking
her arm with Buffy's protectively, "you're spoken for."
"Believe me, he ain't got nothing on you, honey," Buffy smiled happily. "But seriously, Wills, if I'd come to Sunnydale the way I was before I became the Slayer, you, Xander and Jesse would have formed the We-Hate-Buffy Club to go with the We-Hate-Cordy Club. I probably would have become one of Cordy's sheep, or her biggest competitor for the popularity crown."
Willow looked intently at Buffy for a few seconds more, then shook her head. "Sorry, can't see it."
"Strange but true," Buffy admitted. "I guess that being the Slayer's done me some good after all." Then she shook her head. "I have new responsibilities now, huh?" She patted Willow's belly, feeling the growing life within. "I can't keep patrolling every night once the little one's born. But I can't just ignore what's out there at night either. I guess I can settle for semi-retirement. No more nightly patrols, I'll leave those for the new girl. But like I said before, if the Apocolypse comes, beep me."
Joyce sighed briefly, reluctantly accepting her daughter's decision. Willow looked at her beloved, asking, "You sure about this, Buff? I mean, no more patrols, yay for that. But you still want to keep being the Slayer?"
"It's not about wanting to be the Slayer, Wills," Buffy said, "it's about being who I am." She held her wife a little closer, relishing the connection. "When you and I were married last February, I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to protect both you and our baby. If that means saving the world on occasion, then it's a go." She gave Willow a watery smile. "It's still a good fight. And I'm still in."
Willow took Buffy's hand in hers, answering Buffy's smile with one of her own. "So am I, honey."
Buffy then turned to her mother, a peace she never felt before resting on her face. "Tomorrow, I'm going to start job hunting, find some part-time work. Maybe two or three nights a week. I guess with my nights free now, I can help with the finances, once the baby comes."
"I'll do what I can to help, Buffy," her mother promised. "I can make some contacts among my friends, maybe they may have some work for you. But you're still going to college, young lady, so you'll need to budget study time."
"You're right," Buffy admitted, "not to mention time to spend with the kid. I'm not sticking Willow with all the diapers." She gave her wife a loving look, and Willow grinned hugely. "But I still want to meet this new Slayer. The Council doesn't want me messing with her head, but considering that I trust the Council about as far as I could comfortably throw a large house, I'll still want to look in on her." Willow nodded, herself untrusting of the Council's motives.
"Just take care, both of you," Joyce said. "What ever you do, consider how it affects your family."
"Don't worry, Mom. My family's top priority for me from now on," vowed Buffy. She leaned back in her seat, with Willow leaning against her warmly.
Suddenly, Willow sat up, saying, "Oh, it's my favorite scene!" Buffy and Joyce sat by quietly, as on the television Buttercup pushed the Dread Pirate Roberts down the hill, only to realize that he was her beloved Westley. She then threw herself down after him, and once she had reached the base of the valley, Westley leaned over her, asking, "Can you move?"
Willow leaned in close to Buffy, whispering Buttercup's next line in her ear; "You're alive. If you want I could fly." Buffy knew how she felt. With Willow in her arms, she felt like flying herself. What else would happen from now on, she knew that her family would be there for her.
As far as Buffy was concerned, it was indeed a wonderful world.
FINIS