Safe As Houses - Part Three
Eventually, the conversation had to take place. It was not complicated or drawn out. There were no arguments, nor were there any grand declarations of love or any talk of plans beyond the immediate future.
“Wesley, should it turn out this baby is yours, you should know I plan to keep it if Fred tells me it’s safe.”
“All right, Spike. If it is mine, we’ll figure it out. It’s going to be all right either way.” He was genuinely shocked at his relief upon receiving this information. “If you don’t mind me asking, what if it isn’t mine? Will you still want to keep it?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Spike did not elaborate and Wesley did not push for an explanation. Considering the implications, the conversation was sorely lacking in high drama. It should have been like one of those Spanish-language telenovelas, with heated pauses and intense glares, but none of that was there. Both of them could only concentrate on Spike’s decision and Wesley’s surprising reaction.
Spike spent most of his time alone or with Angel, watching television, throwing pair after pair of jeans into a heap as they stopped fitting one by one. He was moody, emotional, and couldn’t stand the thought of anyone seeing him in sweatpants with an elastic waist. At the same time, he looked down at his growing belly with fondness, often running his hand over it absently as he’d seen so very many women do over the years. Seemed to him things were moving a little fast, physically, but what did he really know about it?
After a few weeks, they all got together again, as it was time to share what each had learned. Shockingly enough, Wes had turned up a big fat zero as far as lore or history regarding this kind of situation. Lorne, however, had heard from several different sources that there had been in a witch in town, alone, inquiring about pregnancy spells, fertility rites and other related subjects. She hadn’t mentioned having a victim in mind, and certainly hadn’t said anything, as far as Lorne’s sources had known, about pregnancy in a male or a supernatural creature. The people and demons who had spoken to her had assumed she was asking for her own purposes, maybe she’d had trouble conceiving and was looking for a boost in that department. Either way, she left town shortly after she’d arrived, no one remembered her name, and she hadn’t been seen again. Which left them exactly nowhere as far as her motivations or methods.
Fred hadn’t gotten anything from Spike’s ripped shirt, much to her disappointment. However, she did have the information that they all needed most.
“I did blood tests to confirm what we all have probably been thinking from the beginning. This baby shares markers from both Spike’s and Wesley’s DNA.”
Fred was interrupted as Spike and Wes both flushed a bit. Angel and Gunn clapped them on the shoulders, and Lorne wolf-whistled and smiled as if someone had just handed him a million dollars on a silver platter.
Silence returned as Fred cleared her throat. “There seems to be an accelerated rate of growth, as the fetus is measuring at least two months larger than it should considering the approximate date of, uh, conception.” She gave a quick look to Wesley and Spike with that last word, then turned back to her notes. “This is a human fetus with no genetic abnormalities that I have been able to find, and believe me, I looked. Sorry, guys, I know that sounds like I was trying to find something wrong, but honestly, I was just being thorough. Anyway, there’s a steady heartbeat and a perfectly healthy circulatory system. Not a vampire, for sure. The pregnancy is absolutely viable, and Spike, if you choose to carry it to term, I’d estimate you’ve got about another ten to twelve weeks before gestation is complete. Clearly, whatever happens, you’ll have to deliver surgically, since you don’t have, you know, a….” She almost said vagina. She went with “birth canal” instead, much to Spike’s relief. He didn’t really need to be reminded about his lack of female body parts.
Wesley and Spike were calm but clearly still a bit shell-shocked with all the new information.
At this point, Gunn spoke up. “I think this would be a good time to let Spike here sit down with English so they can talk about this privately. Maybe we should all excuse ourselves.”
Spike waved him off. “Wesley and I have already discussed the possibility and the potential outcomes. I’m going to continue the pregnancy, and keep the baby. Wes already knows so I guess it’s time we let the rest of you know as well.”
The entire room was filled with grins, none as big as Lorne’s, who immediately stepped over to put his hand onto Spike’s belly but was stopped in his tracks with one murderous glare from the expectant parent.
“My body’s not up for grabs, Host. No touching. I’m not going to be passed around like a sodding party favor.” Lorne nodded but looked more than a little dejected as he backed up.
“If I promise not to put my hand on your belly, can I give you a hug?” asked Fred, looking hopeful and maybe just a bit misty-eyed.
“Oh, all right, fine. But just you”, Spike responded, and Fred threw her arms around him. After a few seconds, he hugged her back, and they awkwardly moved away from each other. It’s not like Spike was much of a hugger under normal circumstances.
“So, y’all wanna know what you’re having?”
Wes and Spike looked at each other incredulously, and to no one’s surprise, they immediately answered in the affirmative. The rest of the group were suddenly all shuffling their feet and averting their eyes until Spike diffused the tension.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, just go on and say it, the rest of them will know sooner or later anyway, right? This is already like a bloody group project, yeah?”
Angel piped up with, “Well, the part on the desk was just the two of you, I think.”, smirking at his own cleverness.
“Shut up, you spectacular git, and let Fred finish”, Spike retorted, at the same time that Wes mumbled “bleeding wanker” under his breath.
“It’s a girl. About time we had another one of those around here, if you ask me.”
There was another round of smiles and handshakes and those infuriating one-armed man-hugs before Spike started feeling that stupid tear-y thing coming back again, so he excused himself and Wesley as quickly as he could manage it.
Once they were out of the crowd and settled into Wesley’s office (this time with the cameras turned off, thank you very much), Wes sat across from Spike at the small conference table in the corner. “Guess there are a few more things that need to be decided, right?”
“Well, yeah, more than a few, I keep thinking of another one and another one every minute or two. Glad I’ve got time to make at least a few of them before…” Spike caught the look on Wesley’s face and connected the dots. Oh. Aha. That’s not what Wesley meant at all.
“Wes, if you want in on all this, you just have to say so. There’s nothing I would want less than watching you carrying me and this baby around like it’s some sort of obligation on your part, because it’s not, it’s really not, but if it’s what you want, being a part of raising this baby, I’m not gonna push you away. Could use all the help I can get, the way I see it. I don’t know the first fucking thing about babies. Neither do you, I guess, but you are, well…you’re her father.” It was one of the most insane things Spike thought he’d ever said, considering the context.
“I’m glad to hear that, because I want to be involved as much as I can be. I want…I want to actually be her father, not just be the man whose sperm helped to create her. Do you know what I mean?”
“’Course I do, mate, and I get it. We can figure this out. People who aren’t married to each other manage it all the time, and we’re both smarter and better looking than your average single parents anyway, right?”, Spike answered with a smile. He was quiet for a minute, a far-off look in his eyes, and then he continued. “I didn’t want to ask until we knew for sure, but - since I can feel it, feel her, move, you could too, if you wanted.”
Immediately, Wes scooted closer to Spike and let him guide his hand to the right side of his swollen belly. At first there was nothing, but then…oh. There it was. “She’s kicking you?”, he asked.
“Maybe. Could be an elbow or something, I guess.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No, not usually. It’s all right. I just thought you might want to…”
“Thanks. I was waiting, too, until we knew for sure, but there’s something I’d like you to consider. You don’t have to answer right away, but you know my flat’s three times the size of yours. You could move in there, if you want. For as long as you want. No expectations or anything, I’m not asking you for a sexual relationship, I’m just saying, it’s practical, and - anyway, just think about it, all right?”
Spike’s hands curled and uncurled nervously under the table, his fingernails digging into his palms hard enough to leave marks. He tried not to betray any of that on his face, though, as he simply replied, “Sure, I’ll think about it.”
It wasn’t more than three days before Spike called Wes, certain he wouldn’t be able to get through this face to face.
“About that moving in thing. I think it would be a good idea. Nicer place for her, and like you said, I’m not expecting any repeat performances in the bedroom. So, if you still want to, then yeah, I’d like to do that.”
Wesley was silent for a moment but didn’t want Spike to think he had changed his mind. Because he had not changed his mind. “Of course. We can make the arrangements immediately, or as soon as you’re ready. And what I said about not expecting anything…like that…if you’re going to be living here you should know that not expecting it and not wanting it are not the same thing. It wouldn’t be fair for me to have you living here and not tell you that I haven’t stopped wanting it. Not even for a day.”
It was Spike’s turn to push through his instinctive silence so as not to discourage Wes. “Oh. Sorry, mate, I just assumed…I should have told you before, I guess. I haven’t stopped wanting it either. There’s not any way to know how this will affect our arrangement, I just didn’t want you to feel obligated. And you didn’t want me to feel obligated. Because we’re both morons.”
A quiet laugh was shared over the connection. “We’ll talk about it another day. Right now, let’s just get you over here while I don’t have to worry about you lighting up a smoke in my living room, okay?”
“Yeah”, Spike replied. “Yeah, okay. Call whoever you need to call and let’s get it done.”
Another huge decision made with a minimum of fanfare or drama. They were hoping things would stay that way.
They were both sorely disappointed in that aspect.
It didn’t take more than a week for Spike’s few belongings to get moved into Wesley’s place. Wes moved the desk and computer from his small office into his bedroom, and Spike unpacked his clothing (most of which were completely useless at this point) and his PlayStation and his few other meager possessions into Wesley’s guest room. Before he’d arrived, the two small windows in the extra bedroom had been covered with blackout shades.
The first night was awkward. Both of them knew they wanted each other, but neither was willing to make the first move. Plus, Wes had to admit he was a bit frightened, he’d never had sex with anyone who was pregnant before, and he had no desire to hurt Spike or the baby. His baby. Their daughter. So Wesley went to sleep in his own room alone, a chaste kiss good night but nothing else physical.
The first weekend evening available, the two of them contemplated the small, empty room that used to be Wesley’s office. This was it, they figured. The place where the baby would sleep. The nursery. And Jesus Christ, there had never been a time in Wesley’s adult life when he thought there would be a bloody nursery in his home.
Almost on cue, there was a knock at the door. They hadn’t invited anyone, but as the door was opened, both of them realized that Lorne never thought he needed an invitation. He walked directly to the small, empty room, and immediately started in with suggestions.
“There are a lot of different ways you could go here, guys. I mean, you’ve got a girl coming, so you could do the whole pink and purple flowery thing with butterflies on the walls. Maybe a crib set with fairy princesses? That would be fairly easy to find, I’d think. Of course, you could go in another direction. Ballerinas? Oooooh, ballerinas would be lovely. Maybe a mobile that plays music from The Nutcracker. Wait. Oh, wait wait wait, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this first. MULAN!!!! The little girl warrior!!!!”
Spike was the first to break up Lorne’s monologue. “Who the fuck is Mulan? And there aren’t going to be any fairy princesses. For God’s sake, Host, get a hold of yourself.”
“You’d better figure out who Mulan is pretty quick, Blondie. And Cinderella…”
“Cinderella? That’s a sick story to tell a baby! Those crazy bints who lopped off parts of their feet and had their eyes pecked out by birds? That’s not a children’s story, you idiot!”
Wes interjected at this point. “Actually Spike, Disney made a movie of Cinderella that was for children, and left out all of the nasty bits about the girl being beaten and the sisters chopping off body parts. It’s quite popular with little girls. Also, you may want to stop using the term bints,” he finished quietly.
“For the love of Christ, Wes, are you agreeing with him? You think we need a few gallons of pink and purple paint? Maybe a bucketful of glitter to go along with it?”
“No, God, no, I was just pointing out that the story of Cinderella and her stepsisters has changed over the years to be a tale more appropriate for children, that’s all. No glitter. I swear on my life, there will be no glitter.”
“You’d better believe there won’t be any fucking glitter”, Spike retorted, as he felt his anger and anxiety heighten by the second.
Lorne put himself back in the game. “Have you thought about maybe some rugs on the floor? Heart-shaped? And for the walls, you know, you can always get those decals that come on and off so that you can change them whenever you want.”
“There has been no discussion regarding the decoration of the nursery, Lorne. I hardly think a newborn baby would notice any such thing. It’s not a priority”, Wes responded evenly, trying to keep his voice as polite and patient as was humanly possible. He knew how excited Lorne was about the whole impending baby-having thing, certainly more excited than the parents, who were too nervous and apprehensive to have gotten to the excited part yet.
“A lot of people are doing nursery themes like jungle animals, or Winnie the Pooh, things like that. I’m just throwing out some ideas, guys, there’s no reason to be so hostile.”
Spike felt a bit of repentance at this point, like maybe they’d hurt Lorne’s feelings, so he spoke up. “We’re not trying to be hostile, honest, it’s just that we haven’t put a whole lot of thought into this particular matter. Thank you for giving us some ideas, though, really, we appreciate it. You’ve been so supportive.” What the fuck was that? Spike almost wanted to take the words back as soon as he said them. Or someone who sounded like him had said them. But Lorne and Wesley were both looking at him with something like gratitude, so he left it at that.
“I understand. I’ll leave the two of you alone, you’re right, there are higher priorities. You probably haven’t even talked about names yet.”
Lorne let himself out and left Wesley and Spike standing there staring at each other like idiots. He was right, they hadn’t talked about names. If they were lucky, they had another eight or ten weeks to decide, and this didn’t seem like something you’d just come up with at a moment’s notice. Spike didn’t use the name he’d been given, but he figured his mother must have put a significant amount of thought into it before he was born, as he wasn’t one of those boys of his era who was automatically given his father or grandfather’s name. Wesley was in the same situation, his first name was not a family name, it had been chosen by his mother and agreed to by his father, who honestly hadn’t cared one way or another what they named the boy, so long as it was something traditional.
“Spike. He’s right, you know. About the name. We should at least be thinking of a name.”
“Two names, really. Most girls have two names, right? Buffy and Willow and Dawn, they all have two. Buffy’s second name is Anne-“
Wesley cut Spike off there. “I’m sorry if this is a dumb question, and maybe I ought to already know the answer, but I always assumed Buffy was a nickname for something.”
“No. Sadly, that is actually her name”, Spike replied with a little chuckle. “Willow…I used to know her second name, I can’t recall now.”
“It’s Danielle. Willow Danielle. Fuck. Yeah. So I guess we need two, then. Have you got any ideas?” Wesley asked, sitting down on the living room sofa, followed quickly by Spike (who did not, in point of fact, sit on the direct opposite side, instead choosing to settle down directly next to Wes).
“I don’t know. Being a girl and all, it’s not like we can just name her after one of us. So long as it’s not Mary-something, or Bernadette, anything like that, there’s no way I’m letting people think she’s a Catholic.”
“No arguments there. Plenty of other choices, though.”
“You’ve already got the most Protestant name on the planet”, Spike replied, chuckling softly. Wesley laughed with him.
“Do you have any objections to names that might intersect with old mythology or languages in some way? Or are you looking more for a Madyson or Heartleigh?”
Spike laughed out loud this time. “Something just a bit more traditional than that, obviously.”
Wesley’s face turned serious as he asked his next question. “What about a last name? There’s no real way to decide, I mean, we can give her any name we want, I guess, I don’t know about the rules, but we should decide on that, at least.”
“I don’t have a last name, Wes.”
“Yes you do. Just because you don’t use it doesn’t mean you don’t have it.”
“Before we get into that, let’s get Charlie’s legal opinion on how all that should be handled, all right? Then we’ll come back to this conversation.”
A meeting with Gunn was arranged in his office at Wolfram and Hart, and they were given a quick summary of what they probably should have already figured out on their own. “Spike isn’t a person. William Pratt died a hundred and some years ago. This baby, legally, will be Wesley’s, he will be a single parent on her birth certificate with a ‘redacted’ mother’s name, since there is, technically, no mother. We’re making the damn birth certificate here, since you’re not going to deliver in a hospital or anything, so we can do that. You’re giving birth, Spike, but not only are you not a mother, but you’re not a person, in the legal sense, and you don’t exist as far as any legal database recognizes. I’m sorry if that sounds terrible, considering that you’re the one doing the gestating and the birthing, but those there are the cold hard facts, gentlemen.”
“So, as far as a last name for the baby?”, Spike asked, not finishing the question but getting out enough for Gunn to realize what he wanted to know.
“Wyndam-Pryce will be the child’s last name, as Wes will appear as the only parent on the birth certificate and that is his name. I’m sorry, Spike, if that’s not what you wanted to hear, but you haven’t used your legal name in more than a century, I figured you weren’t all that attached to it.”
“I’m not. It’s all right. We’re just trying to sort out the details while we try to choose a name for the baby.”
“You could name her Charlie”, Gunn suggested with a sly grin.
“Thanks, but I think we’ll pass”, Wes responded.
“Charlene?”
“No!”
“Fine. Just so you know, Spike, I can get you documentation. I can make you Will Pratt, get you a birth certificate and social security number, and you can be an adoptive parent along with Wes. That will give you legal rights to make decisions regarding your daughter, regardless of what her name is.”
“Thanks, Charlie. If you could do that, I’d be very grateful.”
“I’ll get on it now, then.”
So it turned out that Lorne’s recent impromptu visit was more like a casing of the flat and the nursery. Wesley and Spike walked into Angel’s office three days later and were greeted by a ridiculous display of cake, streamers, and wrapped gifts. A fucking baby shower. Seriously. A shower for a pregnant male vampire knocked up by another man after being cursed by a witch. Lorne was one hell of a party planner to pull this one off.
After the initial embarrassment, though, it really wasn’t so bad. No one suggested they play any of those silly games or tried to make Spike wear a hat made of ribbons. Their friends had been exceptionally thoughtful, actually. Lorne gave them a stack of updated and child-appropriate fairy tales, while Angel presented them with one of his charcoal drawings, a sketch of Wes and Spike in profile leaning over a crib, each of them with a tiny fist wrapped around one of their fingers. It was matted and framed and beautiful and Spike thought he might cry as he looked at Angel to thank him. Fred and Gunn, being all official-couple-like, handed them a box containing a soft purple blanket with a tiny matching dress wrapped inside it. Wes found himself staring at the dress, how small it looked, an imaginary picture in his mind of what their daughter might look like all dolled up in the fluffy, lacy outfit, and a smile ghosted across his face.
Their old friends from Sunnydale hadn’t been left out. Willow sent them a sachet of protective herbs to keep in the baby’s room, Xander and Buffy and Dawn put together a box of Pampers, diaper rash cream, baby shampoo, an ear thermometer and other infant-related items. Rupert, the consummate practical thinker, had stepped outside the box and presented them from afar with a gorgeous rug for the floor in the baby’s room that must have been a thousand years old, flecked with silver and gold piping. Overwhelmed didn’t even begin to describe the gratefulness of the expectant parents.
Once the cake was passed and the additional rounds of thanks were handed out, Wes and Spike took their gifts home and deposited them in the still mostly-empty nursery.
“Guess we’d better get on with putting some things in here for her, yeah?,” Spike asked.
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Wes replied, snaking his arms around Spike’s shoulders and pulling him in for a kiss.
“The same thing. Yeah. I’ve been thinking that same thing too…”, Spike managed to get out before he was being hauled into Wesley’s bedroom.
A day that had started with what they thought would be an unwelcome surprise was ending as one of the best they’d had in ages.
The next week or two found both Spike and Wesley deeply engrossed in books like “Baby Names Now”, “15,000 Baby Names” and “Cool Names for Babies”, all of which had been left for them by Lorne with little pink ribbons stuck to the top of them. Arguments ensued about how Heather and Angela (how could Wes have even suggested Angela?) were unacceptable, and hysterical laughter followed ideas like Mikayla, Amber and Nikki even having been considered.
Finally, Wes came to Spike with a real idea, something he had researched and put some thought into.
“What about Roxanne?”
“Like the Police song? Kind of lame, Wesley, honestly. It’s about a hooker, you know. Maybe I should explain to you about putting on the red lights?”
“No no no…Jesus, just listen to me a minute. I know how close you were, are, to Dawn, all right? How much she means to you. In Persian tradition, Roxanne means 'dawn', and I just thought with that, and...well, with dawn meaning the beginning of a new day, you know, maybe it would be nice. That song’s thirty years old anyway, no one her age is going to know it, probably.” He had a bit of a sheepish and hopeful look on his face, and Spike couldn’t resist it.
“Roxanne. I like it. Yeah. I think we can agree on that one, but we’ve still got to come up with another one. Girls have two names now. So let me pick out the second name, all right? And we’ll go with that for the first name. It’s pretty, and I like the meaning.”
“Okay. Get me a second name and we’re done with this part.”
It took Spike another week to come up with something, but when he did, he wasn’t willing to let go of it for anything.
“Don’t be mad, Wes, but this is important to me. She’s been such a big help through all this, and I think it’s the right thing to do. The second name should be Winifred. The baby might not love it when she gets older, but once she hears the story and gets to know Fred, I think she’ll understand.”
“You’re absolutely right. I agree wholeheartedly”, Wesley responded, much to Spike’s surprise.
Wes had more to say at that moment, but wasn’t really sure how to bring it up. So he decided he’d just come right out with it and damn the consequences.
“We’ve done an awful lot of talking about names the past couple of weeks. Hell, that first time we met up at the pub by chance we talked about names, our names, and I was just wondering. You can say no if you want to, but…I don’t like calling you Spike. It’s not your name and I hate the way you ended up with it. I was wondering if maybe I could start calling you Will or William. I don’t care if other people still call you Spike, I don’t even care if you introduce yourself that way. I could even at least try not to say it in front of the others. But your name is William, and I don’t want to call you Spike anymore. Is that all right? Do you need time to think about it?”
“No, Wes. Will is good. No one calls me that anymore, except Angel sometimes, but it’s different with you. If you never want to call me Spike again, that’s fine. To be honest, if it makes you more comfortable, I’ll tell everyone I know not to call me Spike anymore. We’re starting a new life…”Christ, where was this coming from? “You and me, and soon the baby, and we’re - I don’t know - together? I think? Jesus fuck. Are we? Together?”
Wesley answered by moving in closer and pulling him in to a deep kiss, breaking off with a look that promised more. “Let’s just go to bed, Will.”
The time passed so much more quickly than they expected. Ten weeks had seemed like forever the first time they heard it, but when Wes woke up to his lover doubled over in pain and whimpering, he saw that imaginary hourglass in his mind and immediately got him into the car in the parking garage and hurried him into the lab at Wolfram and Hart through the security doors. He’d called Fred on the way, so she was ready when they got there. A table had been set up with an IV, and he half-carried his love and laid him down there. Will didn’t feel the IV when it went in, but he ground his teeth and hissed when he was asked to turn over onto his side for the spinal anesthesia that Fred administered efficiently. A nasal cannula was placed in an abundance of caution. Will (as they’d all gotten accustomed to calling him in the past month or two) didn’t need to breathe, but it was likely he would try and no one wanted to take any chances. Wes stood by steadfastly, holding Will’s hand and watching what couldn’t be seen behind the curtain that had been carefully placed between Will’s face and his abdomen.
Fred expertly made the incision; slowly at first to be sure the anesthetic had taken effect. She kept working until she saw what she was looking for, and put both her hands onto the baby’s bottom, slowly extracting her from the body of her…parent. Within just a few seconds, the baby was squalling, loudly, and there were smiles all around. Fred held the squirming little girl up over the curtain so her father could see her, then held out a surgical tool and handed it to Wes so that he could cut the umbilical cord. Fred made quick work of stitching up the incision she’d made, using great care though she knew it would more than likely heal on its own within a day or two.
For just a moment, the baby was whisked away, placed on a scale, quickly cleaned up, and then placed in Will’s arms as Wes hovered, both of them taken completely aback as they got their first look at the little girl that they’d agreed to raise together. Wesley and Will were both crying with no shame as they took in the sight of this perfect tiny thing that was theirs, this baby they would love and support and nurture for her entire life. Not for the first time, Will gave himself in to the fleeting thought that he’d likely outlive her, but he pushed it aside because nothing was going to ruin this moment for him. Her eyes were a striking shade of blue, and she had the tiniest bit of light brown hair covering her head.
“She’s perfect”, breathed Wesley, stroking the side of her face as Will looked between the baby and him without even trying to stop his tears from falling.
“Of course she’s bloody perfect, Wes, she’s mine, right?” Spike responded with an exhausted smile.
“Seven pounds, eight ounces, and almost eighteen inches long. Delivered at 10: 28am. People will ask you, so remember that, okay?” Fred reminded them.
“How many people are waiting for this phone call, Fred?”, asked Wesley, smiling brightly.
“Only one, honestly, because they’re all in the same room.”
“Go on and make the call then”, Will responded weakly. “Let them know we’re all down here, safe as houses, and to give us half an hour, then they can come on and see her. Can you get something to cover me up, though, please?”
Within half an hour and thirty seconds, they had their first visitors. Neither of the parents objected to having the baby passed around and admired, so long as she ended up back in either of their arms within a minute or so.
Lorne was the first to ask, of course. “So? Did you already come up with a name or are the two of you still arguing about it?”
“We decided on a name weeks ago, Lorne, we just didn’t tell anyone yet,” Wesley replied. “Her name is Roxanne.” He took just a second, looked at Fred then back at the baby again, and continued, “Roxanne Winifred.”
Fred looked as though she may faint, but she remained on her feet as she burst into tears. “Oh! Oh, Wesley, Will, you have no idea…you just - I - oh…” She couldn’t continue due to being overcome with gratitude that they’d thought enough of her small contribution to bestow such an honor upon her.
And there they all were. A family of sorts. What one of the new parents had previously referred to as a bunch of strangers thrown together…it certainly didn’t seem that way now. Especially since there had been a new member added. A perfect, beautiful baby girl, a miracle handed to a flawed man and a souled demon. What more could any of them ever ask for?
Epilogue