chapter 6
Taking matters into his own hands, Spike scheduled a prenatal visit for Buffy as she neared the end of what would be a typical human gestation period.
But nothing about this pregnancy was normal. And that made Spike nervous.
His earlier pleas for her to obtain prenatal care had gone unheeded; Buffy's fear of recapture taking precedence over her desperation to allay their fears about the baby's health. Spike knew that she was counting heavily on her slayer constitution to get her through anything she might experience during delivery.
However, one of the main reasons he had chosen Costa Rica was because of reports he'd received of a very good, and discreet, demon clinic. And he'd be damned if he was going to let her win this particular battle. Spike knew that subjecting Buffy to a prenatal examination came with the threat of exposure and possible recapture, but felt the benefits far outweighed the risk in this case.
Because he needed the reassurance that she was all right. Losing Buffy was not something he could even contemplate at this point.
In the span of a few short months, she had become his world. It wasn't just the fact that she carried his child within her womb, or that she was barely out of his sight for any length of time.
In some bizarre way, he had realized she was his human equal. She complimented him. And while she had allowed him to claim her, he was looking forward to the time when he could bind her to him, good and proper. The fact that he was planning on taking a human as a mate refused to create within him even the slightest hint of panic or doubt.
Because she belonged with him. And once they finally got to the shaggin' part, he would be marking her permanently.
His cock swelled and rubbed against the metal teeth of his zipper at just the mere thought of plunging inside her warm heat, and he hastily refocused his thoughts on something unpleasant. Wouldn't do for him to walk in on her with his cock practically bursting from his jeans, not that it would be the first time she'd seen him straining his denim around her.
As a vampire who prided himself on his prowess in bed, it should have bothered him, the lack of true intimacy in their relationship. Yet, the frequent smell of her arousal kept him from seducing her, knowing full well he could accomplish that with little difficulty.
No, for once, he wasn't going to bollocks this up. He was going to leave it in her hands. When she was ready, she would let him know.
As Spike walked up the path to their temporary, funky, two-bedroom home, he passed by a new sign that now graced the front porch.
'Welcome to Villa Villekulla'.
He snorted derisively and threw open the front door.
"Think you need to lay off the Pippi Longstocking, pet," he called out in greeting, instinctively listening for the sounds of beating hearts and quickly making his way to the kitchen. "It's pickled your brain, but good. If I find out you're thinkin' about gettin' yourself a monkey and calling it 'Mr. Nelson', we're going to have words."
He found Buffy sitting at the kitchen table with an empty pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream in front of her. It was on the tip of his tongue to tease her more about her bizarre nesting habits, when he noticed the twin moist tracks that ran down her cheeks, telling their own story.
Striding forward, he threw himself down into the chair opposite her and took her hands in his own. "What's wong?"
Buffy sniffled and hastily wiped at her eyes. She had tried to get this latest crying jag under control before Spike had come home, but unfortunately, she was at the mercy of the hormone monster yet again.
"Sorry. I'm all Hormonal Buffy again."
He stared at her in that unnerving way she had quickly discovered that he possessed. "Don't need to lie to me, you know. You can tell me if somethin's buggin' ya."
Buffy was silent for a moment, then expelled a heavy sigh. "I was just thinking about home again, is all. My mom's going to be a grandmother and she probably thinks I'm totally dead."
Spike nodded knowingly, figuring it had to be something like this. "Well, since we both disappeared good ole Sunnyhell at the same time, they probably think I had something to do with it."
Buffy nodded sadly. "I just wish I could let her know I was ok. Just so I'm not thinking about her lying in bed every night worrying about me."
Unable to deny her anything, Spike's mind began to work on a way to grant her wish, regardless of the risks. Standing up, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then disappeared out the door once again.
He had some demons to see.
The next evening, Spike left the 'villa' as soon as the sun went down. Buffy didn't question his departure, completely , engrossed in her book. Reading had become a new passion, one that she'd had neither the time nor patience for in her previous life. But now, with literally nothing but time on her hands, losing herself in the pages of fiction was her favorite thing to do.
Spike entered the demon bar and went up to the bartender, holding his hand out expectantly. A cell phone was dropped unceremoniously into it, and Spike nodded his head in thanks. He wasted no time in exiting the establishment, eager for privacy.
He dialed the only number programmed into it, and waited.
His lips quirked up in a smile when it was answered after the second ring.
"Peaches," he acknowledged by way of greeting.
"Spike..." Angel ground out, eyes flashing yellow as he realized who had set up the cryptic phone call. He was standing in the dank basement of Willy's bar, the steel-plated walls offering a sinister edge to what he had been sure was a set up. "What the fuck did you do with her?"
Spike sighed, knowing the call would go like this. "Listen, you ponce, I have some things I need to tell ya."
There was something in the tone of Spike's voice that warned Angel to drop the testosterone and listen, but he quickly ignored it. This was Spike - and that was all Angel needed to remember, not about to give his erstwhile grandchilde the benefit of the doubt. "I'm all ears," he said snidely.
"Look, you're going to have to be extra careful here. Can you do that?"
Angel growled impatiently. "Well, if I knew what in the hell was going on, it might be a little easier. Where is she?"
Frustration began building up and he was tempted to hurl the phone against the wall rather than have to suffer through talking this out with the big poof.
"Is she still alive, Spike?" Angel asked dangerously when the silence extended a fraction too long.
"Yes, she's bloody well alive, you git!" When he heard Angel's roar of anger at the confirmation that Spike was responsible for Buffy's disappearance, he put the phone down and ran his fingers through his blonde hair in agitation
The volume hadn't improved when Spike returned the phone to his ear. "Where is she, Spike? What did you do to her?"
"Look, you over-inflated sack of crap, I told you I'd fill you in," Spike repeated only to be interrupted.
"So why are you calling? To gloat that you have her? Holding her for ransom, maybe? If you have hurt her in anyway, so help me...."
Beyond frustrated, Spike took the phone and banged it loudly against the wall three times. "Do I have your attention now? You interrupt me one more soddin' time, and I'm hanging up. Then you can go tell Buffy's mum that you drove me off because you couldn't keep that blowhole known as your mouth shut for longer than a second. You got me?"
Hearing Spike call the girl he loved by her given name infuriated him, but acknowledging the amount of emotional horror Joyce had suffered in the months Buffy had disappeared, Angel managed to stifle the retort on his lips and remain quiet.
"So, I have your attention now?"
"Yes," Angel bit out through clenched teeth.
"Right. First off. To clear up a few misconceptions; I did not snatch the Slayer. You can bloody well thank the military, the good ole’ US of A, for that one."
"And you just what... happened to disappear at the same time, is that what you're saying?"
"Well, Buffy wasn't the only one those wankers snatched, so yeah, I guess that is what I'm saying."
Again, the use of her given name by Spike, of all people, sent a bolt of fury through Angel. Yet, it was the lack of hatred and venom in Spike's voice when referring to Buffy that allowed Angel to finally put aside his issues and listen. In a far less accusatory tone of voice, Angel remarked, "So, the military kidnapped both of you? Why? To serve what purpose?"
Spike's body relaxed a fraction when he heard the shift of the poof's tone. "Experimentation. Cloning, I think."
Angel's gut clenched at the thought of Buffy being experimented on. But now he could no longer deny Spike's sincerity, and that just made his anguish more acute. "Where is this base? She's not still there, is she?"
"New Mexico. Don't ask me where, wasn't paying too much attention at the time. And no, she escaped the same time I skipped out; going on eight months, maybe."
There was silence. "So, why are you calling me and not Buffy? Why hasn't she come home?"
"Her mum. Slayer wanted her to know she was ok." Spike sighed heavily on the phone. "They...did stuff to her in there. They won't have given up looking for her. She can't bloody well come home, you lot have probably been under watch from the get go. The second she steps foot in good ole Sunnyhell, she'll be snatched up faster than anythin'."
Angel slumped heavily onto a crate, finding his legs unable to support his weight. He couldn't remember the last time he and Spike had spoken so civilly to one another; it was unnerving. "So, what aren't you telling me?"
After a lengthy pause, Spike dropped the bombshell.
"She's pregnant."
tbc
Thank you AGAIN for all the reviews that have been left for this fic. *stunned* I'm sorry I haven't responded to each one, but I just want you to know how very appreciated it!
chapter 7
Angel's eyes squeezed shut as Spike's news washed through him. The girl he loved was going to be a mother. Fatherhood wasn't something he'd ever considered, always finding children more on the annoying side than anything. Especially since he'd been cursed with a soul. As Angelus, they had been nothing more than an amusing food source.
But this was Buffy. He hadn't realized just how much she had come to mean to him until she had disappeared, and there wasn't a day that went by that he didn't regret the fact that he hadn't allowed himself to take their relationship further. The past ninth months had been excruciating. If the price of getting her back included having to deal with a baby, then, well..., he'd do what needed to be done. This time, he'd do the right thing.
Having mentally prepared himself to accept the responsibility for the unborn child, Angel sucked in an unnecessary breath and allowed his emotions to bleed into his voice. The fact that it was Spike on the other end had lost the heated impact in the wake of his unselfish revelation.
"Tell her that's it's... ok, Spike. She doesn't have to be afraid to come home. She won't be alone in this," he offered bravely. "Her mom will be there for her, and... so will I."
Spike ripped the phone away from his ear and gave it an incredulous look. He'd always thought Peaches was slow, but this was downright pathetic.
"What part of 'being experimented on' did not penetrate that oversized melon of yours? The military isn't gunnin' for her just cos' she's the bleedin' slayer who slipped through their fingers! They want the baby they planted in her."
Demon experimentation. Cloning. Pregnant. Buffy. Those words suddenly began looping through Angel's head on continuous replay to the disturbing theme of the X-Files, and he had to visibly shake his head to clear it.
Oh god.
It wasn't a human baby. Fear struck a wide path through every cell of Angel's body, and his very devotion and resolve to be there for Buffy and her child suddenly came to question.
"What...," Angel had to pause to clear his throat before he could continue, finding it suddenly too constricted and dry to allow any type of recognizable speech. "What, uh... what did they impregnate her with?"
"Me," Spike revealed flatly.
Angel's head dropped back against the wall as he absorbed Spike's announcement, somehow anger not taking the primary role in his careening emotions. Rather, it was something almost akin to relief he felt. A vampire/slayer hybrid. No, not just that. A child of Spike and Buffy. His Buffy.
The ensuing silence snapped Spike's last nerve and he began a rambling monologue, each statement hitting Angel like a blow to the head.
"Look, I didn't know, alright? Ran into the bint in some dive in god knows where. Hardly even recognized her, you know? So I followed her outside, we scrap a wee bit, and then I went in for the kill. 'Bout nearly dusted when I soddin' well tasted me in her blood."
"You tried to kill her?" Angel's voice was suddenly cold as he processed that bit of information; even as he tried to remember the last time he'd heard Spike so unnerved.
"Well, yeah. It's what I do, you know? Bloody Slayer of Slayers here." Spike paused and took a deep breath, knowing he was rambling and not helping his case any. "Look, I only called to let you know the Slayer was safe. Don't know exactly when I'm going to be the proud papa, but she's due any day. She's been all teary as of late because of her mum, and I figured you could pass along the news."
There it was again - that unfettered hint of sentiment in Spike's voice that managed to chip away at Angel's fury, sending another wave of reassurance through him. Even Angel couldn't deny the younger vampire's devotion when taking care of those he had feelings for.
Feelings. Something he, as Angelus, never possessed.
"Where are you?"
"Somewhere safe," Spike replied, finding himself shocked at the lack of venom in Angel's voice. It was unexpected.
"Spike...," Angel growled in frustration.
"I got us set up somewhere. We're safe. I'm... takin' care of her, ok? Just tell her mum that she loves her and she's goin' to be a grandmum soon."
With that last rush of instructions, Spike pushed the end button and smashed the phone beneath his boot, hoping that he hadn't just set something in motion that would turn around and bite him in the ass.
Back in Sunnydale, Angel had yet to move as the full impact of Spike's news hit him. Then, with a heavy sigh, he picked himself off of the crate that had borne his weight and headed towards 1630 Revello Drive. He didn't need Spike to tell him that caution was necessary here.
Luckily, he was experienced in dodging surveillance techniques, finally realizing that was why Spike had chosen him to call rather than Joyce herself, or Giles.
With a short stop by his apartment to gather some necessary supplies, Angel headed over to Giles' .
He had some news to share.
It took the watcher a moment to reach the door after the loud buzz of the bell sounded throughout his flat. He was struck once more with the hope that it would be Buffy on the other side, only to be disappointed.
Tonight was no different.
"Angel," Giles greeted wearily. "Fancy a drink?"
"Maybe a little one," Angel replied as he passed easily over the threshold, his hands shoved into his pocket. As Giles turned away, Angel slipped one hand out and smoothly palmed a note into Giles' unsuspecting grasp.
Giving a slight jerk of surprise, Giles pinned a questioning look on the vampire, who feigned nonchalance. Mentally questioning the vampire's odd behavior, he turned to his sidebar and discreetly opened the note.
Don't say anything, we are most likely being watched. I have news of Buffy.
Bloody hell, even the vampire's notes were vague and cryptic, Giles mentally lamented. He could feel his heart swell at the mention of Buffy, his curiosity all but overwhelming, but he played along.
"So, Angel. Can I inquire as to what brings you out tonight?" Giles asked casually, handing a tumbler of brandy over.
Angel shrugged, taking the proffered drink. "Just out and about. Thought maybe I'd see if you wanted to go over and visit with Joyce. Figure she's a bit lonely these days."
The watcher nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, that sounds like a capital plan. I know the disappearance of Buffy has been quite hard on the poor woman."
Angel nodded in agreement and they made the pretense of sipping their drinks in a companionable silence. Not soon enough for Giles, they finally headed out the door.
Giles attempted to question Angel en route to Revello Drive; however, a nearly imperceptible shake of the head from Angel quickly silenced him. He had come to know the souled vampire rather well since Buffy had disappeared; and while always broody and morose, Angel was certainly quite a bit more so this evening. He cursed under his breath at not being able to barrage the vampire with questions regarding his missing charge.
In a tension-filled span of fifteen minutes, Angel had performed the necessary spell that had been taught to him during World War Two, the curious eyes of the two mortals present watching his every move. It was a spell that had been used to scramble surveillance equipment, regardless of the sophistication, and Angel was confident it would be effective in this instance - if indeed they were under surveillance. Joyce had watched Angel in stunned silence, not quite buying the cover story of the vampire mixing together an assortment of potpourri that he was hoping to market.
However, she was smart enough to keep her mouth shut once Angel shot her a black look when she attempted to uncover the true reason for the non-aromatic mix of herbs.
For extra precaution, Angel directed them into the bathroom where the shower and sink were quickly turned on. Only then, did he feel it marginally safe to impart the news he had.
"Buffy's alive," he announced with no preamble.
"Oh thank god...," Joyce cried, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. "Where is she?"
Angel shook his head. "I don't know, Joyce."
"How did you come by this information?" Giles asked, his relief clearly palpable in the sudden sag of his posture.
Angel heaved a brooding sigh. "Spike called me."
Giles ripped his glasses off. "Good lord. You mean to tell me that Spike called to gloat?"
Angel shook his head. "That was my assumption at first, but he...," he looked at Buffy's mother, who had aged years in the months her daughter had been gone. "He just wanted me to tell Joyce that Buffy was ok and that she loves her."
"So you didn't actually speak with her? How do we know this isn't another one of his games?" Giles asked angrily, desperation fueling him.
Angel's sigh was audible over the precautionary use of water. "Because he wasn't the one who took her, that's why."
"What happened to her, Angel?" Joyce asked, homing in with a mother's uncanny radar bullshit for bullshit that there was more to this than he wanted to tell.
"The military kidnapped her. For...experimentation purposes, apparently," Angel finally revealed. "She escaped."
Joyce's gasp of dismay was muffled by Giles' heated curse. It had not been an easy task for him to tell Joyce that her missing daughter was the Slayer and the suspected kidnapper a vampire who had come into town to with the sole purpose of orchestrating her demise. The Council had been unsuccessful in determining if she was indeed alive or deceased, the Slayer line becoming jaded once Buffy had died at the hands of the Master.
"How was it that Spike came to be involved in this?" Giles asked.
"Apparently, they've both been on the run since their escape, and they happened to meet up," Angel admitted before pinning a serious look on the Watcher. "There's more, Giles, and I don't know how long my spell is going to last. Buffy's pregnant."
"Oh..., why isn't she coming home? She could come home. She doesn't need to be ashamed," Joyce cried, unaware of the undercurrent that had developed in the crowded bathroom.
Giles carefully replaced his glasses, his face growing cold as he read Angel's body language appropriately. "Does this have something to do with the experimentation?" Angel nodded morosely. "I see. Is it...human?"
The look on Angel's face gave Giles the answer he was looking for, and he could feel his anger simmering and coming to a direct boil.
"What are you talking about? Why would you even ask if it was human? " Joyce asked in confusion. "How could it be anything but?"
"And Spike?" Giles found himself asking, ignoring Joyce's frantic questioning.
"Was apparently taken the same time as Buffy and was used as the donor," Angel replied stoically, again struck with a lack of fury at this revelation.
Giles felt a small measure of relief upon hearing that it was Spike's child that Buffy carried. At the very least, Spike was a known variable, but he feared for the baby and his slayer.
"What are you saying, Angel?" Joyce asked. "That she's having a vampire's baby?"
When Angel looked at Giles helplessly, the Watcher ripped his glasses off once more in agitation. "Yes, it would appear that way."
A hopeful look entered her eyes. "I'm going to be a grandmother?"
Angel nodded uncomfortably.
"This...Spike? He's not hurting her, is her?" Joyce looked at Angel pleadingly.
Angel mumbled something under his breath and broke eye contact, suddenly finding the running water fascinating.
"What was that, Angel?" Giles prompted, seeing the jealousy for what it was.
"I said, he actually sounded like he cared about her," Angel admitted. Seeing the needy look on Joyce's face, he elaborated. "He said he was taking care of her and that the reason he got in touch with me was because Buffy had been upset about you not knowing she was alive."
Joyce turned teary eyes in Giles' direction. "Rupert, something must be done. What can be done about this? I want my daughter home!"
The look on his face was serious. "Angel, I don't suppose Spike said where they'd been held, did he?"
"New Mexico, was all he said."
Seeing the look of grim determination enter the Watcher's face, Angel asked, "What are you planning?"
The smile he offered was like nothing Angel had ever seen, it was chilling. "I do believe I'll take this matter up with the Council."
Again, massive thanks and squishes to Spikeskat for beta'ing this chappie!
chapter 8
When Spike quietly entered the villa hours after his disturbing conversation with Angel, his mood was decidedly resigned. He knew that he had set something in motion by placing the phone call, yet couldn't find it within himself to regret what he’d done.
.
He found Buffy sprawled awkwardly on the large, plush sofa in their cozy living room that was just off the kitchen. She had evidently fallen asleep again while she read, the way her book was collapsed haphazardly on top of her enlarged bosom a telling sign.
Spike took a moment to watch her, something he found himself doing a lot lately. That familiar feeling of affection and protectiveness welled up inside of him, and a tender smile found its way to his full lips.
She looked so bloody young and innocent laying there, her lips slightly parted as she breathed in a slow, unhurried rate - indicative of her deep slumber. They had recently celebrated her seventeenth birthday, and Spike thought about how much she had changed since he'd almost taken her life in that seedy alley.
He knew she had been haunted, as he had been, by the horrifying experience inside of the military compound. That constant threat of recapture, coupled with the unwanted and unknown pregnancy, had slowly been draining her life away. Almost as surely as he had himself attempted to do to her . It had just been recently that her eyes had finally lost that haunted edge, and Spike intended to keep it from returning.
Buffy hadn't been the only one walking around a mere shell of her former self when their paths had crossed that fateful night. It typically took a lot to break a vampire; especially one that had suffered Angelus' sadistic whims like he had as a fledgling. But the torture and degradation he had experienced during his involuntary incarceration had managed to strike its way to the very core of his being, carving out his insides until there had been very little of himself remaining.
Somehow, Buffy had managed to fill him back up. Had given him purpose. Had given him life. And being the one to chase away her nightmares had kept his own tortured dreams at bay, and that suited him just fine.
Gently scooping Buffy off of the couch, he cradled her gently against his chest. Even with her stomach swollen with child, she weighed practically nothing, and Spike easily carried her down the narrow hallway to their bedroom.
Drawing back the bright, tropical-printed quilt, he carefully laid her down on the firm mattress before stripping off his own shirt and jeans; throwing on a pair of cotton gym shorts before slipping into bed behind her, his arm immediately snaking around her middle to rest against the evidence of his legacy.
The fact that she didn't wake during his transfer told him of her exhaustion, and he leaned over to kiss the scar he had left upon her neck, ignoring the sudden bloodlust that engulfed him at the close proximity to her unguarded throat.
She was perfectly safe with him.
He still fed from humans, but abided by the rules that Buffy had set for him in that regard. He remembered well the argument that had ensued about his feeding habits, but had finally come around to her way of thinking: no killing and his victims had to be male, and low profile. It made it much harder to feed, but he found that if he stuck with a certain class of citizen, their lack of credibility pretty much ensured that any claims they made about being bit would not be well received or investigated.
Spike had quickly come to find that Buffy was a bossy little chit, and wondered if that would prevail past this pregnancy.
And surprisingly, he hoped that it wouldn't change.
With Buffy snug in his arms, it didn't take him long to drift off to sleep, finding himself suddenly exhausted by the events of the evening.
He was awoken a mere hour later by the sensation of the mattress dipping down as Buffy heaved herself back into bed.
Seeing his eyes open and regarding her, Buffy pouted, "Being pregnant sucks."
Spike bit back the grin at the adorable expression on her face. "Bitty Spike tap dancin' on your bladder again?"
Scooting herself back so that she was once again spooned up against Spike, she grabbed his arm and brought it snugly about her middle. "More like the whole damn dance troupe. And would you stop calling it bitty Spike? We're not even sure yet if it's a boy or a girl."
"Spike could be a girl's name," he teased, his fingers burrowing under her top to caress the taut, smooth skin of her abdomen.
Buffy snorted indelicately. "Yeah right, I can sooo see that. As in, not." She sighed in contentment when Spike began rubbing her belly. "So... where did you go tonight?"
Even though there was not the slightest hint of accusation present in her voice, Spike tensed.
Reading him accurately, Buffy suffered through the difficulty of turning over in the bed so that she was facing him. "Spike..., what did you do?"
Mind scrambling, Spike reached for the first thing he could come up with to avoid having to answer her. "I, uh... made you an appointment to be seen at that clinic I told you about."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Duh, I know. They called here to confirm it, stealth guy."
"They did?"
"Yes."
"Oh." Seeing the slayer staring at him with one eyebrow cocked in silent question, Spike broke under the pressure. "Oh, bloody hell, all right. I called Peaches."
Buffy's eyes widened in incredulity as both fear and elation filled her. "You did WHAT? Why?"
Spike couldn't seem to bring himself to look her in the eye. "Because..."
"Did you... tell him?"
The silence that followed gave her the answer and she was suddenly overcome with emotion. Tears snuck down her cheeks as she reached up to gently cup Spike's well defined cheek.
"Oh, bloody hell! That is why I did it in the first place, you silly bint. Needed to put an end to these soddin' waterworks every time I turn around," Spike grumbled. "I seriously hope you aren't like this after the..."
His attempted tirade was effectively shut down when a sweet pair of lips tentatively touched his, curtailing any words that had been on his mind.
Unsure at first, Buffy soon became more aggressive when Spike moaned into her mouth, his fingers finding the curve of her hip and hauling her against him; unmindful of the large barrier of belly that was pressed against his. It was the first time she had kissed him in passion, the previous chaste pecks not meaning anything beyond mere comfort.
Teasing her lips with tiny nibbles, he wasted no time in demanding entrance with his tongue, another moan issuing when it was granted. She greeted him eagerly, her tongue dueling for dominance as the kiss moved into the realm of something more serious.
Buffy could feel his hardness digging into her belly, not that it was the first time she had felt it against her. But it was the first time that she had been deliberately responsible for it, and it gave her a wicked thrill of feminine satisfaction to feel how much she affected him. When Spike's fingers moved from her hip to trail teasingly up her torso, to find their way under her shirt, her breath hitched in her throat. He quickly sought the ripening weight of her breast, molding his palm over the firm mound and that was when the first hint of doubt began to creep in.
When Spike slid his hand back down to grip the hem of her shirt and attempted to pull it over her head, that doubt became a full fledged panic.
With all of her slayer strength and speed, Buffy ripped her mouth away from his and grabbed her t-shirt from his grasp, playing tug-o-war with the cotton fabric that left her undeniably the winner, and her face red with embarrassment.
"Oh god, I'm sorry!" she cried, suddenly able to not meet his eyes as she attempted to scoot away from their intimate position. She could still feel the hard length of him jutting impressively from his shorts, and that caused her to back peddle more furiously; an awkward feat in her highly pregnant state.
His hand clamped down on her hip to still her movement. "Keep movin' around like that, pet, and we're really goin' to have a problem on our hands," he told her while gritting his teeth against the delicious sensations of Buffy moving against his engorged member.
Buffy instantly stilled, her eyes wide with mortification. "I'm sorry," she repeated.
"S'ok, just give me a sec."
"No, I mean, I am really, REALLY sorry. I started something here, then went all Schizo-Buffy on you. I'm just so...HUGE and I feel ugly," Buffy admitted, with a glare down at the offending belly. "Uber ugly. I just...don't feel desirable right now."
When Spike felt he had himself under control, he let go of her hip and tipped her chin up to meet his eyes with his index finger. "Look, pet. I admit I'm more than a wee bit disappointed here. You got me hard as a rock, yeah?" He thrust against her for emphasis. "But I'm thinkin' I don't really want you right now, not like this."
Buffy threw him a dirty look. "Oh you big... vampire jerk! That was the part where you were supposed to say that I wasn't huge. That I was just very pregnant and beautiful."
Spike couldn't help the smirk that curved over his lips. "That right? Well, you are. Pregnant and beautiful, I mean," he added with a rush when he caught sight of another black look sent his way. "No, the reason I don't want you this way is because when we finally shag …” He paused a moment, waiting for her to look at him. Really look at him. To see the desire he barely managed to keep in check around her. Once he was sure he had her undivided attention, saw her mouth make that little “o” in realization he continued, “When we finally shag, I am gonna make you give me everythin' you got. Won't accept anything less."
Buffy gulped at the sensual tone of Spike's voice, instantly growing wet at the erotic images his words evoked. "Oh."
He snorted and gathered her in arms. "Yeah, Oh. Gonna make you bloody well scream, luv. Gonna make you come so many times, you won't know when one stops and the other starts. All. Bloody. Night. Long."
Another gulp. "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" Not that she didn’t doubt his claim, not for one second, but appearances had to be maintained, right?
"Bloody right I am." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Now go to sleep."
"Spike?"
"Wot?"
"Thanks for not being mad."
"Oh, you'll be making it up to me, don't you worry your cute little arse over that one."
"Promise?" she replied cheekily.
"Oh, that's a soddin' promise you can be sure I'll be keepin' you to," Spike replied, closing his eyes and cuddling her close as he tried valiantly to ignore the raging hard-on that persisted.
Sleep was a long time coming.
tbc
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