Scene 5
A couple of hours later, Miranda’s house. People are starting to arrive—everyone shows up at once except for Giles. (everyone = Anya, Xander, Willow, Tara, Buffy Dawn and Angel) Most are standing in the area just inside the door. Miranda is greeting everyone. After a moment, Spike comes up from downstairs—he changed into something less covered in flour. Miranda is wearing a peasant top with a seam under the chest area—the blousy part extending down, conveniently covering her new paunch, which seems to have grown a bit even since this morning. Spike walks up behind her and just instinctively moves his hand around her back and cradles her left breast. Miranda starts to pull his hand away.
Miranda: “Spike!”
Spike: “What?”
Miranda: “You can’t fondle my breasts when we have guests over.”
Spike: [mock annoyed] “Who made that rule?”
Anya: [to Spike] “I didn’t know either. Apparently it applies to ass groping as well.”
Spike: “Why did we invite people over again? [seeing the wrapped packages] Oh right. Presents.”
Miranda: “You really didn’t need to bring presents! ooh, but don’t they look lovely. Let’s put them in the living room for later. I’ve got a bit more cooking to do.”
Flashes from the party as time goes on. Miranda keeps bringing out more food from the kitchen. One of the counters in the kitchen doesn’t have cabinets above it and it looks into the living room—she does most of the prep work there so she can chat with everyone while she’s working. Spike is in the kitchen with her, helping with this and that, but mostly avoiding being with everyone else. Miranda is chopping something with a big knife and when the doorbell rings—she inexplicably jumps at the sound and cuts her finger rather deeply.
Miranda:“Ouch. Dammit! I’m so jumpy lately.”
She shows the cut to Spike and then puts the bleeding finger in his mouth—he makes a ‘yummie’ sound as he sucks off the blood. Xander sees this and is very disgusted and makes a comment to Willow (Xander: “Did you see that? I’m all for swapping of bodily fluids, but THAT is just disturbing.”). A second passes and Spike frowns/looks confused and pulls the finger out to look at it—it’s already healed. Before he or Miranda have time to say anything, Giles comes through the door. He apologizes for being late. He’s worried that there might actually be something bad in the mix tonight—some sort of special alignment of the stars or some such thing. Hopefully, it’s nothing, but they should keep their eyes open for anything unusual. He then gets a drink and tries to act surprised at seeing Angel. It’s obvious he’s rather uncomfortable being ‘in the know’ about the pregnancy. When Miranda is free, he asks if she’s told Spike yet—she hasn’t—there just hasn’t been the time (it’s obvious there’s more to it than that, but he doesn’t feel it’s his place to press her on the matter). Time goes on and they’re all enjoying the food. Miranda brings out her last delicacy and then sits down in one of the comfy chairs in the living room. People are tasting various items on the table.
Tara: “This food is amazing. Are these artichokes?”
Willow: “Did you try the puffy things? YUMMIE.”
Xander: “What are these sausage-y things here?”
Miranda: “Black pudding, actually. Something for the English folk.”
Giles: “Hope you don’t mind, but I already nipped a slice from the kitchen counter.”
Miranda: [concerned] “The ones on the blue plate?”
Giles: “I’m afraid I didn’t notice.”
Miranda:[uncomfortable face] “Those ones were actually, uh, made specifically for Spike—you’ll like these better.” [indicating the ones on the table on a yellow plate]
Giles: [suddenly looking a bit pale] “Oh, I see.”
Xander: “What gives?”
Willow: “Black equals blood.”
Giles: “Pigs blood, traditionally. But I suppose...”
Miranda: “Best not to think about it too much.”
Giles: “Right O”
Willow: “So where did you learn to cook like this?”
Miranda: “Now that is a rather interesting story...”
Dawn: “oooh, I love Miranda’s stories. There’s always like horses and carriages and fancy dresses and other old stuff.”
Miranda: [smiles at this] “Would you like the long or the short version?”
Tara: “It’s your birthday—you decide.”
Miranda: [devilish grin] “Hm. I’m quite in the mood for some storytelling. Alright, then. Let’s have it all, shall we? [she sits up in her chair and stops for a moment as she imagines the scene and decides where exactly to start]. Just over a hundred years ago, long before *most* of you were born [eye flick to Spike, although same applies to Angel], I was traveling west through Europe. My traveling companion and myself had just escaped from a rather dreadful [pause, how say it] confinement—the details of which I’d rather not discuss, as they were quite unpleasant. Suffice it to say that we had been taken some 10 months before and even though we were now free, there was an unspoken acknowledgement between us that the experience had left us somewhat...damaged. This feeling we shared meant that we were not in a terrible hurry to return to our previous lives—we weren’t ready. So we took our time, slowly making our way westward. She was Italian and from a rather small town. I had been living in Paris. Truthfully, one of the reasons why we had so many ‘unspoken’ understandings was because we didn’t actually speak the same language at all. My Italian was very limited and her English even worse. It didn’t matter much. In some ways, it was pleasant to be free of the demands of making conversation.”
Xander: “I’m right with you there. Talking—totally overrated.”
Buffy: “And this relates to cooking...??”
Miranda: “I’m getting there, hang on. [She takes a sip of wine from the glass that Spike just brought over—he’s now sitting on the arm of the chair she’s sitting in] One lovely spring afternoon, we had been given a ride between towns by a farmer who was hauling hay. We stopped for lunch at midday. The sun was warm and the wildflowers were blooming—we sat on a small hillside overlooking a tiny cottage while we ate our bread and cheese. God, it was beautiful—like a painting [she closes her eyes, reliving it]. The farmer had mentioned that he knew the owner of the farm we were on and that the tenant of the cottage had recently passed away—some old spinster. He said the family was looking for a new tenant and he’d be happy to find out the details during lunch if we were interested. We politely declined, saying we were on our way somewhere and were not intending to stop for more than a day or two. He had left us on the hillside to have lunch at the main house. Now I should say that over the course of our travels, we had been made many such offers, and the reason for this was not simply that there were an abundance of empty cottages or that we simply looked like reliable tenants. No, the reason we were treated with such hospitality and warmth had much more to do with my traveling companion, Isabella. You see, Isabella was beautiful. And before you all jump to the conclusion that I am being humble or intentionally self-deprecating, let me clarify. Isabella was perhaps the most beautiful woman I have ever seen—I was a troll next to her. [everyone laughs and there are a few protestations]. No, really, I kid you not—a troll. Perhaps I am being a tiny bit subjective, because she was such a lovely person as well, but...[convincing herself] no…I truly believe that she was objectively the most stunning creature I have come across in my now 140 years. If she had been aristocracy, she’s the kind of woman men fight wars over—I had never understood that concept before I met her.”
Xander: “Is it me, or did this story just get much more interesting?” [glare from Anya]
Dawn: “What did she look like?”
Miranda: [thinking about it] “I don’t know that I can do her justice in a verbal description—there was something almost luminescent about her.”
Xander: “Come on. You can’t just leave us hanging like that. Give it a go. Use actresses.”
Miranda: “Uh. Hm. Coloration, she was a bit like Isabella Rossellini—not entirely olive skinned, as you might expect from a pure Italian. She had long, black, wavy hair. She was beautifully curvy—take Jennifer Lopez’s lower body, adding a few inches in height, attach Haley Berry’s torso and Angelina Jolie’s breasts. That’s about the best I can do using names you’d recognize. The point is, she was a goddess and everyone saw it. [Thinking of where she is and adding] Well, not literally a Goddess, of course. Now where was I?”
Xander: [a bit too quickly] “You and the hot chicka were having lunch on a hillside. Now, was there a blanket involved?”
Buffy: “Xander!”
Xander: “What? I’m just trying to get a mental picture.”
Miranda: “I do believe there was a blanket of some sort—the ground was rather damp.”
Tara: “So was she sitting or laying back on the blanket?” [surprised look from Buffy; conspiratory look from Xander] “I think it’s important to get the mood right.”
Willow: “Mood. Absolutely.”
Miranda: “Hm. Let’s see. We were both kneeling. She was leaning over a bit, resting on her arm. We had been sitting in silence for a while after we’d finished our lunch, just enjoying the sun and the view. Thinking back on it, I do remember vaguely noticing the slightest change in her demeanor. The next moment she said something in Italian “[to be filled in once I find someone who speaks Italian]”. I wasn’t sure I had heard her correctly—I thought she said something about staying there—in the cottage. I was confused by this, because we were, at that point, only a fortnight’s travel away at most from her village. We’d been feeling better and she had even indicated that she would be happy to be home. She saw the confusion on my face and repeated what she’d said. This time, she looked me straight in the eye—her voice contained a nervous tenderness that I’d never heard before from her. After she spoke, she appeared to hold her breath in anticipation of my response. I still didn’t understand her meaning—my Italian too weak to interpret subtleties. She took in a deep breath and then tried in English. She said “We stay here? In house? [pause as she reached for my hand] Together.” As she said this, she gently took my hand and put in on her neck, just below her cheek. I think she wanted me to feel her heart—it was beating very fast. She repeated a third time what she’d said in Italian, this time in a soft, seductive voice as she moved her face downwards slightly to nuzzle my hand. The next moment seemed to go on for hours—like I was frozen in time. I remember looking at her lips as she said the words and suddenly becoming aware of what she was suggesting. [aside: breaking out of the moment briefly to look around the room at everyone and say] You all probably think I was being terribly dense, but this was a different time and such things were not commonplace. [back to the moment] As her meaning sunk in, my mouth suddenly went dry and I felt a tightness in my chest. I’m sure I stopped breathing. Here was this goddess, this otherwordly creature asking me to stay with her—essentially proposing to me—and the look on her face as she waited for my response was unbelievable. She was nervous. As if I could have said anything other than ‘yes’. As if anyone would have had the power to not do anything she asked. I felt dizzy...intoxicated. I tried to say something but I couldn’t seem to speak. I remember thinking at that moment that I finally understood what it was like to be a man.”
Spike: [mildly offended] “What’s THAT supposed to mean?”
Miranda: “Up to that point, I’d always thought men were rather pathetic in their vulnerability to beauty—getting talked into doing the most ridiculous things only to get taken advantage of and their hearts broken. I’d done it myself—taken advantage. It was too easy. But then there I was, utterly and completely powerless—absolutely no will of my own.”
Willow: [suddenly really liking the story] “So what did you do?”
Miranda: “As I said, I couldn’t manage to get a word out, so instead of trying to articulate verbally, I simply leaned over and kissed her. Hoping all the time that I would like it, as I’d never kissed a woman before and frankly had never considered it.”
Tara: “And, uh, was it...?”
Miranda just smiles and takes another sip of wine. Everyone is conspicuously silent. Giles walks into the room—he’d been rummaging around the ‘hidden’ room, where the previous owner of the house had kept all her magic THINGS. He notices that no one is speaking.
Giles: “Something going on?”
Buffy: “Oh, Miranda was just telling us how she learned to cook.” [As she says this she suddenly makes a face, realizing that so far, they’ve learned nothing about how she learned to cook.]
Spike: [to Giles]. “Join the party, Geeves. Miranda has just managed to turn on everyone in the room except for Buffy, Anya and Dawn and I don’t think she’s done yet.”
Dawn: “I think it’s very romantic.”
Buffy: “So, uh, cooking?”
Miranda: “Right. So we talked to the farmer and he agreed to rent us the cottage. We didn’t have much money, so we helped out in the kitchen for the main house and supplemented our income by selling some baked goods in the town. Isabella was a fantastic cook. I was dreadful in the kitchen at first, but she taught me everything she knew. [laughing] We spent most of our time in the kitchen that year! [remembering fondly] Well, not ALL of our time. [snapping out of it] So THAT is how I learned to cook...and incidentally, when I learned to speak Italian.”
Willow: “How long were you two together?”
Miranda: “I guess we lived in that cottage about a year.”
Tara: [disappointed and empathetic about their ‘breakup’] “That’s not long—what happened?”
Miranda: “Oh, it was fine. We could have stayed there a bit longer, but events transpired to speed things up. The townsfolk were getting more suspicious of our relationship—we’d gotten rather lax about hiding our affection and in those days, people were not very open minded. And Isabella wanted desperately to have children. That very next summer, the young man she’d been engaged to, before she was taken, somehow managed to find us and still wanted to marry her. We both agreed that it was for the best and he arrived in August to take her back.”
Xander: “And when he arrived, did you...??”
Anya: “Xander! Even I know that is a totally inappropriate question.” [but then she kind of looks at Miranda, curious about the answer]
Spike: “I think that’s enough, love. You can give me the details later.”
Dawn: “What did you do after she left?”
Miranda: “I decided to head east. A story for another day, perhaps.”
Tara: “Did you ever see her again?”
Miranda: “No. By the time I returned to Europe, I decided to just let it pass. She did promise to name her first daughter after me and so I took much pleasure in envisioning a dark-haired, dark-skinned Miranda running about the Italian countryside.”
Angel: “You’re daughter’s name was Isabella.”
Miranda: [nodding] “Hm. Yes. I thought it only fair to have a pasty-skinned, freckled, Isabella in return.”
Buffy: “You don’t talk about her much—your daughter. What was she like?”
Miranda: [dismissive] “We weren’t very close. You think you can love a child that isn’t your own just as completely, but sometimes it just doesn’t work out that way. [changing the subject] Is it time for cake?” [W&T had arrived with a cake, after hearing from Buffy about the baking fiasco.]
At this, they bring out the cake. There is much joking about M’s age. She says that it’s funny that she’s actually only the third oldest person at the party (behind Anya and Angel). Miranda cuts a large piece for herself. Spike tries to take it away from her and jokingly makes a comment just to get a rise out of her.
Spike: “Maybe you should take it easy on the cake, love—you’re starting to get a bit thick in the middle.”
To which, she light-heartedly expresses due outrage. He then playfully pulls up her top to show off her little pudge.
Spike: “I like it—gives me something to grab.”
Then come the presents. [Author's note: I’m not in the mood to come up with clever gifts from everyone, so I’ll just skip to the important ones.] Willow and Tara say that when they were looking through the old witch’s stuff, they found what appears to be one mother of a protection spell for the house. Practically impenetrable, they think. After consulting with Giles and getting some things at the magic shop, they’ve figured out how to activate it (and turn it on and off as needed). They’ve also equipped it with an alarm, so that if anyone even tries to break in, they’ll be warned. They do the initial activation, which requires some chanting and such. From there, they tell Miranda how to turn it off and on again, which isn’t nearly so complicated. Somehow the spell seems to be tied to the house—they originally were hopeful that they could use it elsewhere (for Buffy’s house to protect Dawn, etc.), but they have not been able to get it to work anywhere but here at Miranda’s house. Now all the presents are open and Miranda is properly thanking everyone and looking things over. Spike had disappeared for a moment, but has now walked back into the room.
Spike: “One more, love.”
Miranda: “Is it yours?”
Spike: “Thought it proper to save the best for last.” [eye rolls all around, except for Miranda]
Miranda: “You’re awfully cocky. Sure it’s all right to open in mixed company? [to Anya who is sitting next to her] Lingerie is a rather fitting first birthday gift, don’t you think?”
Spike: [overhearing] “What d’you need lingerie for? Seems a bit of a waste when...” [notices that Dawn is listening and doesn’t say anymore. He pulls a small box out of his pocket and tosses it casually on the table. It’s thin and about 4X4 inches].
Miranda: [She’s obviously quite excited/nervous about what he’s gotten her. She actually did not expect to be opening it in public. She eyes the box and then looks up at Spike] “Shall I guess?”
Spike: [He’s leaning against the wall next to M, looking very confident and pleased with himself] “Suit yourself.”
Dawn: [impatient] “Just open it already!”
Everyone in the room is mildly curious. She picks up the box—it’s wrapped in just a small black ribbon tied in a bow. She flicks a look up to Spike. She pulls off the ribbon and then slowly removes the lid of the box. She looks at the contents and expresses a look of genuine surprise with a touch of confusion. She looks up at him, as if for an explanation.
Spike: “It’s the same stone.” [He’s excited to tell her about it—quite proud of himself.]
Miranda: [heartfelt] “Spike, it’s beautiful.”
She pulls a necklace out of the box. It’s a choker with a drop pendant—the pendant is cross, but fatter and of a different style than her old one. In the center is the ruby from her other necklace (which was originally the stone from her engagement ring). The chain is a rather thick lattice (maybe half an inch) with very detailed markings. Spike leans over and takes it from her and starts to put it on her neck.
Spike: “It’s platinum, which is much stronger than gold—s’what you had before (gold)—the bloke said it should hold up pretty well in a fight. The clasp has a double safety. Pendent should be different enough. Oh, and if you look close, the chain’s got little mini-crosses in—for a touch of added protection.”
[Angel thinks that Spike gives him a look at that moment, as if to indicate that she needs protection from him, but then realizes he’s just being paranoid. He whispers to Buffy. Angel: “So what happened to her old necklace?” Buffy:“I guess it kept breaking; oh, and there was this other thing about spies and Easter—I’ll tell you about it later”]
Miranda: [Once Spike has put the necklace on, she stands up to properly show it off. She’s tearing up a bit, but trying to hide it. She turns to Spike who gives her a little eyebrow flick.] “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?”
Spike: “Pretty clever.”
Miranda: “Let’s review, ladies, shall we? It’s beautiful, practical, has sentimental value and..." [looks to Anya]
Anya: “Expensive.”
Miranda: “How many boyfriend points does that add up to?”
Dawn: “Off the scale.”
Miranda: “Quite right.”
Xander: “Lucky bastard. He’s set for life—well, at least the next 2 years of birthdays, anniversaries and random holidays.”
Miranda: [beaming at Spike] “Have I mentioned lately that you may, in fact, BE the best boyfriend EVER?”
The men in the room respond with the male equivalent of the eye-roll; the women are rather transfixed.
Spike: “Now, love, you shouldn’t make the others feel too pathetic. [piercing look at Xander] They do try.”
Miranda: “We’re going to step into the kitchen for just a minute” [She walks in the direction of the kitchen, with Spike close behind, smirking proudly.]
Once they’re gone and it’s reasonably certain they’re out of ear shot...
Tara: “wow”
Willow: “I’m right there with the ‘wow’”
Xander: “Pull yourselves together, women. There’s a little too much non-disgust in the air.”
Angel: [has been wanting to say something all night, but hasn’t had the chance] “So is it just me, or does it seem really odd that Miranda and Spike are like, a couple? I mean, his last girlfriend was a total psychopath and Miranda appears to be...well, for lack of a better word, kind of normal.”
Xander: “Actually, his last girlfriend was a mindless bimbo. Still, point taken and agreed with. And you know, I don’t think ‘odd’ is actually a strong enough word to describe the situation.”
Angel: “Phew, Ok. I thought I was missing something.”
Willow: “No, it’s not exactly something we’re comfortable with—we’ve just learned to keep the disgust buried under a nice thin layer of denial mixed with polite non-discussion.”
Giles: [genuine concern] “It IS a bit worrisome. Miranda is actually quite a powerful woman and we still don’t understand entirely what she is and what her motives are.”
Buffy: [explaining—they’ve obviously discussed this] “It’s not that we don’t trust her. It’s just that the more in to Spike she becomes, the more likely it is that they’d stick together no matter what.”
Giles: “And if somehow we find ourselves in a conflict with Spike, which is actually quite likely based on his history, she’ll fight for him.”
Angel: “Huh. I just couldn’t figure out what she sees in him, but now that you mention it...”
Just then M&S come back into the room, smiling. Everyone stops talking. After a bit, the party resumes—they put on some music, etc.
Suddenly, the alarm sounds (from the protection spell).
Scene 6
Suddenly, the alarm sounds (from the protection spell).
[Author's note: this is where I get lazy again. Just a quick summary, light on the details.] They look out the windows, trying to see what’s going on. It becomes apparent that the house is surrounded by Glory and her minions (who seem to have multiplied). They also see a different kind of demon talking with Glory—one they hadn’t encountered before. Luckily, it appears that even Glory is stopped from entering the house by the protection spell (in frustration, she walks up to the door and tries to break through when her minions failed, but is not able to). Glory rants a bit at the door—says it’ll make her job easier now that they are all in one place. They bring Angel up to speed on Glory. Glory still doesn’t know that Dawn is the key. Time goes by as they try to break into the house and fail. Everyone is freaked out and discussing what they should do. Everyone agrees that they should under no circumstances leave the house until they are sure the coast is clear because there are just too many to fight and they are not prepared. At one point, they realize that Glory has changed her strategy and instead of trying to break in to the house, she is trying to lure them out. The new demon buddy of hers seems to be able to play with their minds through the barrier and so manifestations begin appearing, all with the goal of luring people out (e.g., at one point what looks like Dawn runs out through the front door on her way back from the bathroom—Buffy is about to follow her out, when they realize it was just a manifestation and that Dawn is still in the bathroom. One time, a “pizza delivery guy” comes to the door and the bad guys make it appear that he is about to be killed by one of Glory’s minions to lure Buffy into trying to save him and thus opening the door/leaving the house.) Because they can’t trust what they see, they agree to remain in the living room—within sight of each other at all times. More time passes. At one point, one of the manifestations is Joyce and this totally freaks out Dawn, who is very upset and scared anyway. Tensions are running high. People are getting a bit loopy. They start talking about making a break for it. Buffy is getting frustrated by Miranda’s lack of enthusiasm for the plan.
Buffy: [Seriously pissed and snarky—she’s really worried about Dawn and frustrated] “So why, all of sudden, have you become a pacifist? All I heard about for weeks was how you wanted to kick Glory’s ass—how you thought you could fight her. [mocking] “I’m a badass Immortal—let me at her.” Well, now’s your chance. Let’s go.”
Miranda: “I...”
[Giles intercedes]
Giles: “Don’t be so hard on Miranda, Buffy. She’s simply come to her senses about the likelihood of her being able to win against Glory.”
Buffy: “But isn’t it worth a try? At least so we can get Dawn to safety—she doesn’t have to win. Heck, she doesn’t even have to survive, right? I believe your exact words were “I’m immortal—what’s the worse that could happen?””
Miranda: “I wish I could, but I...”
Buffy: “But? Suddenly your afraid of a fight?”
Spike: “Take it easy, Slayer. Miranda’s been a bit under-the-weather the past couple weeks, haven’t you pet?”
Miranda: [looking around—feeling backed into a corner] “Believe me, Buffy, if things were different, I’d do whatever it took to protect Dawn. It’s just that...um...it’s not just about me anymore.”
Buffy: [annoyed look toward Giles] “Here we go. So what? Now that you’re in love, you won’t take any risks? I knew this was a bad idea.”
Miranda: “What? No, I...um. Well, the thing is, I’m rather...pregnant.” [This hits the room like a lead balloon. Stunned silence.]
Xander: “But I thought...”
Giles: “Yes, it’s impossible. We’re looking into it.”
Buffy: [to Giles] “You knew?”
Miranda: “I needed some help researching how this could happen.”
Willow: “Wow.”
Tara: [tentative] “Congratulations?”
Buffy: “How long?”
Miranda: “Maybe 10 weeks—I’m not sure.” [She is actually avoiding looking at Spike, as if she fears his reaction.]
Dawn: “Huh. A baby. That’s good, right?”
Miranda: “I don’t think there will be a baby—I don’t know. I keep thinking it has to be imaginary. But still, I can’t...” [Her voice trails off.]
Anya: [ignoring the last statement] “So Spike’s going to be a dad. That’ll be interesting.”
Giles breaks out with an unexpected and totally inappropriate laugh (it’s the stress).
Giles: “Sorry, sorry. I just [He can’t stop himself from laughing] I just had a vision of Spike holding a nappy. [more laughing] Sorry. I know it’s not funny.” [Trying desperately to suppress the laughter]
Spike: [Has been standing there in stunned confusion, waiting to break into the conversation. To M] “What’s this, love?”
Miranda: [She looks at him for the first time.] “Oh, William. I haven’t had the flu and it’s not the cake that’s making me fat. [to everyone] Could you please give us a minute?”
Everyone moves to the other side of the room, giving them a bit of privacy.
Spike: [not exactly angry—still stunned] “So you’re pregnant. And you told Giles before you told me.”
Miranda: [genuine] “I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you, but it probably isn’t anything and I didn’t want to freak you out.”
Spike: [looking at her stomach] “It’s obviously something.”
Miranda: [welling tears now] “We can’t talk about this now—lets wait until we can be alone.”
Spike: “What made you think it would freak me out?”
Miranda: “Come on. From what you’ve said in the past it’s rather clear this isn’t something you’d choose. We’ll work something out, OK? Please, let’s not talk about this now.”
He agrees to let it drop and they join the rest of the group. He is obviously distracted during the discussion that follows, re: what to do about Glory et al. They finally decide to simply wait it out until morning—assuming the spell holds until then. [Author's note: somehow, I had it in my head that Glory and her minions could only be a danger at night—now that I think about it, that doesn’t actually make much sense. Still, I’m sticking with the plan because I’m too lazy to think up an explanation right now.] They take turns keeping watch out the window—a variety of things happen as the night goes on. During a rather quiet phase…
Buffy: [to Spike—Miranda is keeping watch out the window—Buffy is actually trying to be nice and make conversation.] “You seem to be taking this in stride—the impossible pregnancy and all.”
Spike: [shrugs] “Things just happen around Miranda. Unexpected things. [giving an example] I mean, who would have thought a vampire could have a reflection.
He indicates the window, where you can see Buffy’s reflection on the couch and Spike’s facing her.
Buffy: [glancing and then spinning around to get a better look.] “WHAT? How?”
Spike: [suddenly realizing—crap] “So I guess we haven’t mentioned that little tidbit before, have we?”
Buffy: [to everyone, pointing at the glass] “Look—Spike has a reflection.” [Everyone looks]
Angel: “You didn’t know about that?”
Buffy: “You did?”
Angel: “Well, yeah. I just assumed you’d pick up on it—with all the time you spend together.”
Buffy: “What else?”
Spike: [really wishing he hadn’t let that slip] “Nothing really—nothing worth mentioning.”
Angel: “He can be in the sun without catching on fire.”
Spike: "Not full sun—just dusk and dawn."
Willow: “ooh, ooh! I KNEW I saw him touch that cross without any smoke or sizzling! Aha!”
Spike: “Ok, so there are a few things. It’s no big deal.”
Buffy: “This is bad. [to Giles] This could be really bad.”
Angel: “Well, duh.”
Miranda: “Calm down. Don’t get your knickers in a twist about it. I don’t see why it’s that significant.”
Xander: “The chip still works, right?” [affirmative angry nod from Spike; X shrugs it off] So no biggie. [casually] Unless it stops working and then Spike becomes some sort of invulnerable ubervamp.”
Tara: “That would be bad.”
Miranda: “Come on, now—I think you’re all jumping to some very nasty conclusions here. A half-reflection does not an ubervamp make”
Spike: [mostly to Miranda] “You know it could all be related. The reflection, the sunlight, my knocking you up.”
Shot to Miranda—this hadn’t occurred to her before. Huh. She’s turning this over in her mind.
Buffy: “But I still don’t get the ‘how’ part of the explanation.”
Angel: “Figure it’s got to be the blood. Though, I don’t see how THAT could relate at all to the pregnancy.”
Buffy: “What do you mean ‘the blood’?”
Miranda is desperately giving Angel the ‘don’t tell her’ look. He doesn’t get it.
Giles: “Yes, what do you mean?”
Angel: “Come ON, do you people not have ANY powers of perception?”
Miranda: [interjecting—trying to avoid the ‘biting’ discussion] “The blood in the freezer—for Spike. It’s my blood.”
Buffy: [disgusted] “So what, you like, bleed yourself for him?”
Miranda: “The short answer is...yes.”
Miranda is now giving Angel a pleading look—there’s already too much on the table to bring up the biting.
Xander: “Anyone else feeling a bit ill right about now?”
Giles: “Well, that surely adds a twist to things, doesn’t it? I suppose it could all be related, although I can’t quite fathom the mechanism.”
Willow: “Thinking about the whole pregnancy thing—the witch that lived here before—she was totally into fertility.”
Tara: “She made a lot of money helping people get pregnant with spells and charms—it was her thing.”
Willow: “Maybe there’s something sorta leftover in the house that might have helped things along—you know, like a fertility aura or something.”
Spike: [small smirk] “And we sure have pushed the limits, haven’t we, love. I mean, even if there was just a one in a hundred chance...”
Miranda: “Can we stop talking about this now? We’ve got other things to worry about.”
Angel: “I’m quite happy to not talk about it.”
Conveniently, something starts to happen outside, distracting everyone. Ahem. Stuff happens...blah blah blah...they deal with it blah blah blah. Things quiet down. Anya drifts off to sleep and within minutes, she is sleepwalking and heading towards the door. So now sleeping is off-limits as well. Only a few more hours until daybreak. They start to discuss what the plan is for the morning and the next couple of days. Giles seems to think that if they can make it through tomorrow night, things should lighten up a bit. He thinks that the new powers that Glory has access to (the manifestations, mind-reading, etc.) will disappear due to what he had been reading before he got there—the special alignment will breakdown. Angel offers to bring the team from LA up to help out. Because of the protection spell, they agree that at least Dawn should come back to Miranda’s before nightfall tomorrow—perhaps all of them. So they are in the midst of this conversation, when out of the blue, Spike says:
Spike: “I think we should get married.”
Miranda: “What?”
Spike: “That’s what people do, isn’t it? In this situation.”
Miranda: “We’re not exactly people, though, are we Spike?”
Spike: “Now you sound like one of them.” [indicating the scoobies]
Miranda: “It’s absurd and you know it. We’ll talk about it later”
Spike: [realization crossing his face—he looks a bit upset in a slightly angry voice] “I get it. Yeah, right. Later.”
Everyone goes back to planning. More time passes. Miranda is sitting on Spike’s lap on the big comfy chair, resting her head on his shoulder. His arm is draped across her stomach, with is hand resting gently on her little paunch. Anya, Xander, Dawn and Giles are playing cards. Buffy and Tara are perusing the CD collection—Willow has a pair of binoculars and is scanning the front yard from the couch (there is a big picture window that the couch backs up against). Angel is pacing.
Miranda: “I’m feeling a bit sick, love. I’ll just nip into the kitchen and get a glass of water.” [She slides off the chair.]
Buffy: “She shouldn’t go alone.”
Spike starts to get up—he’s half asleep, so not moving very fast.
Angel: “I’ll go. I could use a snack or something.”
Spike sinks back into the chair. They get to the kitchen and Miranda pours herself a glass of water. She walks to the fridge and opens it.
Miranda: “I do actually have a bit of pig’s blood leftover from the black pudding—d’you want it?”
Angel: “That’ll be fine.” [She moves to put the container in the microwave. He stops her] I’ll drink it cold.”
Miranda: “Well, let me at least put in a glass.” [He nods and she does and he takes the glass from her. She starts to walk back to the livingroom.]
Angel: “Hang on a second. We should talk. [She reluctantly stops—too exhausted to protest.] “I know things are crazy tonight and it’s not the time to decide anything. But I just want you to know that you’d be welcome in L.A.—whatever happens, [pause] whoever the father is.”
Miranda: “Thanks. [pause as she takes this in and thinks about it] What exactly are you saying, Angel?”
Angel: “Uh, I don’t know exactly. This is all kind of off the top of my head, but uh, I think we could work something out. Something that would be best for all of us.”
Miranda: [skeptical] “All of us?”
Angel: “You’re not actually considering raising a child with him? You need to consider what’s best for the baby—what’s best for you AND the baby.”
Miranda: [politely] “Rest assured, Angel, that I will consider what’s best.”
She walks to the livingroom. Angel looks pleased—Miranda just looks exhausted. She gets halfway into the hall and then has to turn back and throw up in the sink. Afterwards she walks back into the living room and stands next to the chair that Spike’s in, holding her glass of water.
Willow: “Looks like we’ve got more company. Dang, I thought we were done with manifestations—it’s been so quiet!”
Buffy: “What do we got there, Will?”
Willow: “Ooh. Handsome man in a tux. Whose is that??”
Buffy: “Give me those binocs—I’ll be the judge of handsome.”
Willow: “Do you think she’s resorting to raw sex appeal now? Seems kind of lame.”
Buffy: “Yep, he’s a hottie.” [She hands Willow the binoculars] “And with that, I transfer the watch to the immune party.”
Giles: “And what is this ‘hottie’ doing?”
Willow: “Uh, he looks kind of confused. Oh, now he’s talking to Glory—can’t tell what she’s saying, but she looks like she’s being sorta polite. He’s walking tentatively towards the house now.”
Anya: “What’s he look like?”
Willow: “Tall, black hair, pale skin—ooh, light eyes—can’t tell if they’re blue or green.”
No one is looking at Miranda to notice her knees suddenly go—she catches herself on the chair. She says, calmly:
Miranda: “Does the front pocket of his jacket have a handkerchief with a clover stitched in?”
Willow: “uh…[looking for it] yep, I see clover—four leaves—the good luck kind. How’d you know?”
Miranda subtly moves as if something has just hit her hard in the stomach. She lets the glass slip from her hands—there is a rug below, so it doesn’t break.
Miranda: [She says weakly] “Green. His eyes are green. Cal. [fighting back tears] That bitch.”
Spike: “Who’s Cal?”
Angel: [to Spike, scathing] “Her husband, you idiot—how can you not know that?” [Spike shoots Angel a nasty glare.]
Miranda: [overcome] “Is his face blurry?”
Willow: [confused] “What?”
Miranda: [she’s shaking a bit now] “It pulls these manifestations from our minds, right? Uses our memory to form the image. Lately, I’ve had trouble remembering. You think you’ll always be able to see them in your mind—how could you let yourself forget? But lately, I can’t. I threw away all the pictures. I try to see him, but it’s blurry—his face is blurry.” [She’s losing it.]
Willow: “He looks clear to me.” [Hands the binocs to Tara, who confirms that his features are clear.]
Miranda suddenly gets a somewhat manic look on her face. She starts to go for the window.
Buffy: [concerned] “You know he’s not real.”
Miranda: “I just want to see him one more time—that’s all.”
Giles: [reacting to the crazed look in Miranda’s eyes] “That may not be such a good idea.”
Just then, they hear Cal’s voice.
Cal: [strong Irish accent] “Miranda? Miranda, love, are you in there? Come to the window, so you can see that it’s me, Cal. [pause] Miranda?”
Hearing his voice is too much—she lunges to the window. Buffy and Angel exchange a look and Angel grabs Miranda’s arm, preventing her from reaching the window. With her other arm, she manages to reach forward and grab her sword, which was just leaning up against the wall. She whirls around and holds the sword threateningly toward Angel—the surprise of it causes him to loosen his grip on her arm and she frees herself. With wild eyes and gritted teeth, she repeats;
Miranda: “I just want to SEE him.”
It looks like Buffy or Angel might try to rush her again to prevent her from getting to the window. Before they do, suddenly Spike steps in and shoves Angel backwards (not too hard).
Spike: “Back off, soul-boy. The lady said, she just wants to have a look. Let’s everyone give her some space. [to Miranda] Trade, love?”
They exchange weapons—he takes her sword and gives her something small and less cumbersome. He essentially is guarding her as she moves to the window. Everyone exchanges looks, like “oh, fuck, this is what we’ve been fearing”. Miranda says one more time in a small voice...
Miranda: “just want to see him”
She walks to where the curtains are open and stands there. After a minute, Cal notices her in the window (he appears to have not known which window she might appear in) and walks towards it. As he approaches, you can see the emotion on his face.
Cal: “Aw, Miranda, my angel. Look at you. You cut your hair. You’re even more beautiful than I remembered. I don’t really know what’s happening, love. Suddenly here I am—young and fit—dressed as I was on our wedding day. I don’t even know how long it’s been. She says we can be together again—she says you’ve got a baby inside you. [He’s moving still closer to the window.] But you have to come out here and then it’ll be done. Think of it, love. Another 40 years together. I don’t know how she’s managed it—must be a miracle.”
He’s now just inches from the window. They are at about the same height. Miranda doesn’t say anything—she moves closer to the glass. Cal looks a bit sad suddenly—as if he’s about to confess something.
Cal: “I tried to be happy. I did. But I could only think of you. Miracle or not, I don’t care. [He puts his hand on the glass.] I’d sell my soul just to touch you again.”
At these words, Miranda lets a sob escape her lips and the tears start to flow. She puts her hand on the glass where his hand is and just stares at him. After a moment, she whispers, still looking directly at Cal.
Miranda: “Tara. In just a moment, when I say, I want you to close the curtains as fast as you can. Xander, when the curtains close, I want you to turn up the music on the stereo as loud as it will go.”
She takes one more long, sorrowful gaze at her husband and then waves to Tara with her free hand. She pulls away from the window a split second before the curtains arrive and the music goes up. It’s obvious that Cal is starting to say something, but the music kicks in just in time. Miranda turns and quickly rushes towards Spike—she buries her face in his chest as hard as she can, as the sobs start to come. He puts his arms around her and slowly moves them back towards the big chair—her body has gone completely limp. He kisses the top of her head gently and just holds her while she cries.