Grief

London said nothing at the funeral, didn't even touch Spike, didn't look at him, and he knew that meant trouble. She was holding something in and when it exploded he had better be there to pick up the pieces. So he kept a close eye on her all the way home in the taxi and as they sat in their house, quietly, like regular people after a funeral, she staring at the fire, he pretending to read.

Raven and her boy were off commiserating. She'd be all right. Losing an elderly parent was a normal part of life. Sad, but not unexpected.

Losing a child, on the other hand. That was something else.

As the dawn approached London rose silently and walked toward the room where they kept their coffins, as if intending to go to bed, but she suddenly changed to a bat and flew toward a broken window and out into the approaching dawn.

Swearing, Spike ran after her, not bothering to transform, sprinting for all he was worth and catching her as she transformed into herself in the front yard. She struggled against him, hitting him with her fists, screaming and crying like a wild thing, finally giving way to her grief.

"Let me go, let me go, let me die, I want to die ... " she howled.

"No," he said, and he was crying too. "No, I won't." He started to drag her towards the house but she fought him. She had always been nearly his equal in strength and he was having a hard time getting her to budge. "Please, London, I'm nothing without you, please, luv, come inside ... I couldn't bear it without you ... " He repeated it over and over as he half-dragged, half carried her toward the house. "I love you, London," he shouted, finally. "If you die, it will kill me."

She stopped fighting and collapsed, still crying as he lifted her easily in his arms and ran back inside, just as the sun crept across the pavement toward their front door. He dropped her into her coffin and climbed in with her, shutting the lid behind them with a bang. It would be crowded, but he had to be sure.

He could not lose her too.

It would be the end of him.

Sad Week

This has been a sad week. On Monday, Ellis's great-grandfather, Apollo, passed away. We went to the funeral, which was at dusk, a weird time unless your family is full of vampires like theirs is.

Holden du Maurier was Apollo's son, which means he broke up his own nephew's marriage. Lovely guy. He looked truly broken, though, standing with his twin sister, who is a vampire. She had her arm around him. They didn't cry, just stared at the grave.

Spike and his wife were there, standing far apart from everyone else. Apollo was their only child. How weird it must be to have your child die of very old age while you're still young. They didn't speak to anyone, just stood quietly side by side.

Both of Apollo's wives, his current and his ex, attended as well. They just hugged each other and cried. I guess if that much water has gone under the bridge it might seem silly to hold a grudge. What's done is done. I wonder if Rory and I will be the same at Ellis' funeral, which I hope is a long time from now.

The thought of Ellis dying made me panic and I realized how much I love him, how little I care what the future holds, and how much I want him in my life. I held his fingers and he squeezed mine back. Our eyes met and he smiled at me sadly, then leaned down to kiss my forehead. I leaned my head against his chest and gave in, finally, to the inevitable.

If he asks me again to marry him I'm going to say yes.

I love him too much not to.

Reconciliation

"I'm a bloody hypocrite," I say when Scarlett opens the door. "And I miss you."

Her face crumples and she hugs me tight. "I miss you too." She releases me and holds the door so I can enter the house. "Come meet my baby."

Tallulah is beautiful, brown skinned and bubbly. I make a fuss over her until her grandmother, Jaden, takes her upstairs for her nap. "You two have a nice visit," she says, beaming at me. "I'll take care of Missy here."

"So," Scarlett says, looking at my bump.

"Like I said, hypocrite," I say.

"Does your dad want to roast him on a spit, too?" she asks.

"Pretty much." We laugh, though it's not all that funny.

"What are you going to do?" she asks.

"I don't know," I say. "I don't trust him, so I don't think I can marry him."

"But you love him," she says.

"Of course."

She sighs. "Tell me about it. I'd offer you a drink, but under the circumstances ... tea?"

"Yes," I say, privately thinking I may float away on a wave of Oolong. "Tea would be great."

Henry's New Girlfriend

Henry's got a new girlfriend, Aurora's aunt, Nwad. I've seen them around town together. She's really beautiful. He seems happy, and I should be happy for him, but something inside me hurts.

I want to trust Ellis, but I don't. I want to be happily married to someone I know is sleeping in my bed, and no one else's. I know Ellis can't offer me that, and yet ...

Every time I see him I feel happy. He takes care of me. He fixed my toilet the other day, and cleaned the whole house, and even washed my car. I want to believe he'll be like this when we're married but I don't. I don't know that much about men, I'm the first to admit it, but I do know this: They like the chase. At least men like Ellis do.

But what happens when he catches me?

Friends No More

Aurora is playing with her son Sparrow in the front yard of her house. It's green, the color of moss, with latticed windows and a greenhouse in back. I heard she shares it with her birth dad and his sisters.

"I'd like to talk to you," I say.

She looks up and frowns. I hate that. We used to be friends.

"Please," I say.

She shrugs, and leads the way inside, holding Sparrow's small brown hand in hers. He's really cute but doesn't look much like Ellis. I look up and see a man looking at me, at least I think he's a man. He's so perfect looking he might be a statue. The grown-up Sparrow, except for the eyes. His are teal like Aurora's, Sparrow's are violet.

"My father," Aurora says. "Fenris, this is Lily."

"Ah," he says, and takes his grandson by the hand, leaving us alone.

"Tea?" Rory asks.

"OK."

The house is nice, filled with plants. The walls are green inside the house, too, and there's a bubble blower in the foyer. No one's using it right now.

"When are you due?" Rory asks, handing me a teacup as we sit down.

"Four months from now," I say, putting my hand automatically on my stomach.

"Boy or girl?"

I shrug. "We'll find out when we find out."

"So," she says, "What's up?"

"I want us to be friends," I say. "I'm not sure we can, anymore, but I'd like us to try."

"Even though we both have kids by the same man."

"Yes."

"That seems optimistic," she says, sipping her tea.

"Maybe," I say, "but you already said you don't want him full time."

She looks at me.

"What if I do?" I ask. "I'm not saying I've decided, I just want to know."

She's quiet for a long time. Finally, she says, "You didn't come here to be friends again, Lily. You came here to stake out your territory with my man."

"Your--"

She stands up. "I don't want him full time, you're right, but be honest, Lily. If you know he's seeing me on the side you won't be happy. You're here to break us up."

I stand up too. She's right, but I didn't realize it until this moment. "So, you're going to keep seeing him?"

"Of course," she says. "There's the door. Don't let it hit you on the way out."

I changed my mind. I don't want to be friends after all. I want her to stay away from Ellis.

Her man. We'll see about that.

Decor Wars

"I hate this house," Tika said.

"Good," Malcolme said, smiling for the first time since she'd arrived. "There's the door."

"Oh, I'm not leaving. It's just that is place is way too stuffy. It needs something new." Tika pulled a can of spray paint from her jacket pocket.

Malcolme looked like he might faint.

"Relax," Tika said, grinning. "This is for later. Unless you'd like?"

"No, no," he said.

Tika opened the door. "OK, you can come in now."

A troupe of people all in black carrying cans of paint, tarps, and brushes entered the foyer.

"What in the ... " Malcolme spluttered.

"Interior designers," Tika said.

"Forget it. No way."

Tika shook the spray can.

"Where would you like to set up?" Malcolme asked the designers, faintly.

Breaking it to Mom and Dad

Finally, I tell my parents. They sit in stunned silence for an unbearable age before Dad says, real quiet, "Are you going to marry him?"

"I ... haven't decided."

Mom puts her hand on mine across my kitchen table and says, "Whatever you decide, honey, we'll support you."

I can barely look at Dad. I'm afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes. But I force myself to look and all I see is concern. He starts to say something but Mom repeats, "Whatever you decide, Lily."

They stand up to leave and I watch them walk across my small front lawn to the car. I hear Dad say, "I want to have a talk with him."

"No," Mom says. "They need to work this out for themselves, David."

"Can I at least punch him?"

"Now, what kind of an example would that be for the Chief of Police to set?"

Dad mumbles something I can't hear as they get into the car.

I watch them drive away.