“Clearly the blue river chimes in its flowing/Under my eye;/Warmly and broadly the south winds are blowing/Over the sky./One after another the white clouds are fleeting;/Every heart this May morn in joyance is beating/Full merrily;/Yet all things must die…” ~Alfred Lord Tennyson, “All Things Must Die”

The sounds of Christmas music filtered through the grocery store as Joyce pushed the cart up and down the aisles. “I don’t understand why they have to play Christmas music already,” Buffy groused. “We haven’t even had Thanksgiving yet.”

“Well, there isn’t any such thing as Thanksgiving music,” Joyce replied equably.

“Maybe, but by the time Christmas comes around, I’m sick of Christmas carols.” Buffy checked the list. “We still need pumpkin pie spice.”

“Will you run and get that, Dawn? It’s back a couple of aisles.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll go with you.” Buffy didn’t want Dawn running around on her own, even in a relatively safe place like the Sunnydale grocery store. Somehow she didn’t see Glory making a run for snacks, but she would rather be safe than sorry.

Dawn glared at her. “I’ll be fine, Buffy.”

“I need to pick something up anyway.”

“What?” Dawn demanded.

“Cinnamon.” Buffy named the first spice that came to mind.

Joyce gave both girls a look that warned them very clearly to behave and get along. “Go on, both of you.”

“I can take care of myself,” Dawn muttered as soon as they were out of earshot of Joyce.

Buffy nudged her with an elbow. “Come on, Dawnie. That’s not what this is about.”

“So, what is it about?”

“Trust me. If Glory can kick my ass, she can definitely kick yours.”

Dawn sighed. “Fine.” They found the spice aisle, and Dawn grabbed the pumpkin pie spice. “Aren’t you going to get what you needed?”

“What?”

“Cinnamon, remember?” Dawn asked sweetly.

“Oh, right.”

“Liar.”

“Shut up.”

Dawn stuck her tongue out, and Buffy grabbed a container of cinnamon, having no clue what she was going to do with it. “Come on.”

Buffy got a bad feeling as they headed back the way they’d just come, looking for Joyce. Over the bustle of the pre-holiday grocery rush, she could hear the murmurs that signaled an accident scene.

“Dawn, stay back.”

“I thought you wanted to stay with me.”

“Just stay back.” Buffy pushed her way through the gathering crowd, finally catching sight of her mother sitting on the floor, an older woman rubbing her back. “Mom?”

“Oh, Buffy, I’m fine.” Joyce smiled reassuringly. “I just felt a little faint.”

“I’ve already called the ambulance,” the older woman said. “Don’t you worry, honey.”

“Buffy?” Dawn’s small, frightened voice had Buffy turning. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s going to be fine, Dawnie,” Buffy soothed. She handed Dawn her cell phone. “Call Giles and tell him that we’re going to the hospital. Don’t exaggerate. Mom is going to be fine, and he doesn’t need to worry any more than he already will be.”

Because Joyce would be fine; Buffy refused to believe any differently.

~~~~~

Giles rushed into the emergency room, attempting to hide the panic he felt, and knowing that it was probably a fruitless endeavor.

“Rupert.” Spike appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “This way.”

“How did you—”

“I was the second call.” Spike ushered him towards the elevator. “They’ve admitted her for right now. They want to observe her overnight, but they don’t think Joyce or the baby is in any danger.”

“What happened?” Dawn hadn’t been able to tell him much on the phone, which had just added to his panic.

Spike shook his head. “She got dizzy, fell in the store. There was some cramping. From what I understand, this is considered a high-risk pregnancy.”

“Yes, but the doctor assured us that everything was alright, and the baby—”

“Far as I know, that’s still true, Rupes.” Spike gave him a sympathetic look. “Here we are.”

Giles entered the room slowly only by an exercise of will. He wanted to burst in, to demand answers and make everything all right with one wave of his hand. He was a magician; he’d been able to control demons and the elements.

And yet he was helpless in the face of this most common of miracles.

“Rupert.” Joyce held a hand out to him. “You’re here.”

“I came as soon as I could.”

“Of course you did.” Joyce squeezed his hand, and turned to Buffy. “Honey, would you—”

“Sure.” Buffy offered her Watcher a self-conscious smile and left.

Giles perched on the side of the bed. “What happened?”

Joyce sighed. “I feel so stupid. I just got a little faint at the store. I’m sure it was just due to the nausea this morning and not eating much.”

“Spike said something about cramping?”

She frowned. “How—damn. I always forget about that vampire hearing. That was a conversation between me and my doctor.”

“Were you planning on telling me?” Catching her guilty look, Giles added, “Please do not tell me that you didn’t want to worry me. It’s far too late for that.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Joyce confirmed. “But I was going to tell you. I just wanted to know what was going on first.”

Giles shook his head, saying nothing, knowing that he probably would have done the same thing. Waiting for answers was probably a good idea if you had the choice, and could spare your loved ones worry.

“Ms. Summers?” The doctor entered the room with a chart in hand. “I wanted to speak to you about the tests we ran.”

Giles saw the look that the doctor sent his way, and he realized that the doctor was waiting for him to leave. “I want him to stay,” Joyce said before he could say anything. “Dr. Namala, this is Rupert Giles. He’s the baby’s father.”

It sounded convoluted and cold in a way. How much easier would it be to be able to say “this is my husband”? Giles realized that if they were married, there would be no question that he had the right to be there.

He’d never expected to marry. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t asked her yet, or maybe he just hadn’t thought about it until this moment. It hadn’t seemed important.

“Ah, Mr. Giles. Of course.” The doctor smiled at him. “It is nice to meet you.”

“And you.” He forced a smile. “What can you tell us, doctor?”

~~~~~

Dawn wandered down one of the halls of the hospital, trying to figure out where she was in relation to where Joyce had been. Buffy had given her change for a soda, but she’d had to go down a couple of floors in order to find a vending machine. And then Dawn had become turned around when she ran into a restricted area.

Dawn credited Buffy’s worry over Joyce with her willingness to let her go off on her own. She had been too grateful for a moment where she didn’t feel as though she was being watched to question it.

“I swear, it’s like the hallways are moving,” she muttered sullenly, wishing that she was at home, with Joyce, getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner. “It’s not fair.”

“Oh, so pretty!”

The exclamation startled Dawn out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see an older man coming towards her, hand outstretched. “Uh, what?”

“So pretty! So green!”

She backed away rapidly, trying to avoid his grasping fingers, and finding the entire situation all too creepy.

“Dawn!” Spike came from behind her, and moved between her and the old man. “What were you doing?”

“I went for a soda!” she protested, trying to keep one eye on the man behind Spike. “And then I got turned around.”

“Come on.” He took her arm in a firm grip and led her down the hallway rapidly, away from the old man. “Who was that?”

“I don’t know. He just started…” She trailed off, uncertain of how to describe his odd behavior.

Spike shook his head. “Well, never mind, then. All’s well that ends well, yeah?”

“How’s Joyce?”

“They’re going to keep her overnight, but they think she’ll be fine.”

Something in his tone told Dawn that there was a little more to it than that. “What else?”

“They’re talking about bed rest.” That was all he would say, though. Spike stayed stubbornly silent until they met up with Buffy in the waiting room on the maternity floor.

“What’s going on, Buffy?” Dawn demanded. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. They just want to be sure that Mom and the baby are okay.” She smiled. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

Dawn realized that the basket of groceries for Thanksgiving was still at the store. “What about Thanksgiving?”

“We’ll figure something out.”

Buffy was being just as vague as Spike, and it was driving her crazy. “But—”

“She’s fine,” Buffy interrupted her. “But Giles is going to stay here, and so you’re going to stay with us. We’ll get something to eat tonight, and we’ll worry about Thanksgiving later.”

“Will we still have it?” Dawn had no idea why it was so important to her that they have the traditional turkey dinner, but it was. She needed to be sure that everything was going to be okay, and Thanksgiving dinner was part of that.

She saw the look that Spike and Buffy exchanged, and Spike said, “Of course we will, pint-size. I’ll bet Tara will help, and the others, too.”

Dawn didn’t reply to that, grateful that they would at least try. She needed to try being normal, even if she wasn’t very good at it.

~~~~~

Wesley awkwardly climbed into Spike’s car, putting his crutches in the backseat. “Thanks for doing this, Spike.”

“How long are you going to be incapacitated?”

“Four to six weeks, then the cast comes off,” Wesley replied glumly. “Far too long, if you ask me.”

“And since it’s the right foot, you can’t even drive.”

“It’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

“I can tell when you’re amused.” Wesley sighed. “Laugh it up, and if you’d like to borrow the bike, feel free. I won’t be riding it.”

Spike’s expression turned sympathetic. “At least it wasn’t worse.”

“Worse? How could it be worse?”

“Well, you could have buggered up your knee, and then it would be months, instead of weeks.” He offered a conciliatory smile. “Couldn’t do without you that long, mate.”

“Thanks.” Wesley leaned back in the seat. “I stumbled across something the other day that I think may give us a lead on finding Glory.”

“Anything would help at this point. We don’t have the first idea where to begin.”

“As you know,” Wesley began, “the prophecy speaks of choices.”

“Yeah, choices I’m going to have to make.” Spike sounded disgruntled. “Not like it could give me a clue as to what they might be.”

“I think it might,” Wesley corrected him. “All the choices seem to be tied to life and death. You save someone, or you don’t. You kill someone, or you don’t.”

“So?”

“So, from some of the references I’ve seen, it is my guess that Glory is tied to a human body.”

Spike blinked, and Wesley could see him processing that information. “You’re saying that Glory is human.”

“No, that she’s tied to a human body—and before you ask, I don’t know what the difference is. I just know there is one.”

“Then my choice may be to kill an innocent person, or to let Dawn die.”

“Or kill one of us, or let someone die.”

“That’s no choice at all.”

“But if it’s Glory inside someone, wouldn’t that make it easier?”

“But is the body-sharing willing, or not?” Spike objected. “There are always questions, Wes.” They were parked on campus, as close to Willow’s dorm as Spike could get. “You sure you don’t want to call her to meet you?”

“I’ll be fine. You’re sure you don’t mind coming back?”

“Give me a call. Buffy and I are going to be watching Dawn tonight.”

“How is Joyce?”

“They’re putting her on bed rest,” Spike replied. “They want her to try carrying for at least another month, and they’ll induce then if they need to.”

“Prognosis?”

“Right now, it’s good.” Spike’s serious expression indicated his level of concern. “The doctors think they’ll both be fine.”

Wesley smiled. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

~~~~~

“Thanks for doing this, Xander.” Buffy kept her voice down. “Spike and I need to patrol, but I don’t want to leave Dawn alone, and I wanted to give Mom and Giles some time together.”

“Hey, no problem, Buff. I’m happy to help.” He spoke only the truth. Once again, he’d been feeling a little left out, and not even the thought of babysitting could dampen his spirits. “Anything I can do for your mom?”

“If you know how to cook Thanksgiving dinner, that would be good.”

“I know how to buy rolls and cranberry sauce,” he offered.

Buffy smiled. “I’ll take it. I think between all of us we can manage it. I’d skip the whole thing, but Dawn really wants to have the traditional feast.”

“Poor kid,” Xander muttered. “It’s probably good to keep things as normal as possible for her.”

“That’s what we thought, too.” She gave him a friendly pat on the arm. “We’ll see you in a few hours, Xan. Thanks again.”

She left with Spike a few moments later, and he watched them go. Buffy leaned in close to the vampire, and he put an arm around her shoulders for a quick embrace. They fit together in a way that he envied. Xander knew that his relationship with Anya was solid; he loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone, but sometimes he wondered if they really fit.

But maybe that’s not what they were about. Sometimes he wondered if he and Anya were more about reconciling their differences than celebrating their similarities.

“So, what do you want to do tonight, Dawnie?” he asked. “We rented a couple of movies.”

She shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“We could play a game,” Anya suggested, sounding strangely perky.

Xander had resorted to bribery to get her to agree to come with him, and he knew the two things that would convince Anya to do just about anything—sex and money.

Although her bluntness sometimes embarrassed him, Xander had to admit that it was refreshing to have a girlfriend who was so uncomplicated.

“What kind of game?” Dawn asked suspiciously.

Anya smiled. “We brought Life, where you earn money by going around the board. I like this game.”

“I’ll bet,” Dawn muttered.

“Okay, what do you want on your pizza, Dawn?” Xander asked, heading off trouble between the two of them. He knew that Anya didn’t have much experience with children, and so she usually came across as patronizing.

His Uncle Rory had been like that; he’d found it frustrating.

“Anchovies?” she asked hopefully.

Xander hid a grimace. He hated anchovies. “Tell you what, we’ll get a small with anchovies for you. Anya? Hawaiian?”

“Sure.” She was cheerfully going about setting up the game, and Xander knew it was only a matter of time before she tried convincing him to use real money, rather than the fake bills that came with the game.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.