Part Fifteen

Angel sat outside Buffy's bedroom window, waiting for her to get home. He had some information for her about another ‘new power' arising in Sunnydale, which was the norm for the small suburb in California. Scanning the street from his perch, he looked both for her and for any trouble. He heard something coming from her room and he turned back to the window. Buffy was standing in front of her closet in only a towel.

He went to tap on the window when she dropped said towel and stood in front of the mirror mounted on the inside of the closet door. He knew immediately he should leave or at least turn his head, but this was his goddess, his forbidden fruit, and he was not strong enough of a man for that.

He watched as she turned one way, then the other, examining her body in the mirror. She then did something very odd, pushing her stomach out as far as she could and arching forward. It almost looked as though she were seeing what she would look like if she were pregnant. He frowned, shifting uncomfortably because of the tightness of his pants over his arousal. As she slipped on a extra large T-shirt, he jumped off the roof to take a walk and calm down before he talked to her.

Buffy sighed and sat down at her desk, tucking one leg under her as she pulled out her diary and a pen. Tucking her damp hair behind her ear, she uncapped the pen and flipped to a blank page.

Monday, April 12, 1999

My life is a soap opera. I fall in love, we make love, he becomes a psycho, I kill him, he returns from the dead, I still love him, his ‘childe' comes back and we have sex, now I'm pregnant. I think I saw this episode on All My Children.

Pregnant. With child. Expecting. Simple words that mean life changing events. And it's happening to me. God, I don't know how I feel about this. I just confirmed that I was pregnant by the second test this weekend, and it's been over two months since my last period, over two months since Spike...

I feel like I'm in a dream and any moment I'll wake up. But will I be relieved or disappointed if it is a dream? One minute, I'm like wow, a baby. The next, I want it to not be true, for it to just disappear and that maybe if I wish hard enough, the baby will be magickally gone. Back and forth, back and forth. I don't like it.

But when it's quiet, when I'm looking down at my not-yet-swollen abdomen, my heart swells with love and pride and tenderness. I touch myself and I can almost feel the baby growing in me. My baby. Spike's baby.

Spike. What am I going to do about him? He doesn't even know we had sex, let alone that I got pregnant. And it was only one time. That's all it took. I can't believe my mother was right. She's going to have major ‘I told you so' syndrome when I tell her. If I tell her. Maybe I'll just get an abortion. God, what am I going to do? I am so confused.

I wonder if there have ever been any pregnant Slayers before. I know they usually die young, but maybe, just once, one of my predecessors had a child. What did she do? Did she still slay while pregnant? Did it make her fight harder or make her weaker? I could find this information out if I ask, but not Wesley. Definitely not Wesley. Giles would know, but would he be disappointed in me? Would he look at me like he did when he found I didn't tell him Angel had returned? It hurt so much. Giles means everything to me, just like my mom. I don't think I'd survive without him and not just because he was my Watcher.

I am so screwed up. I'm glad I haven't been sick, yet. I've heard that morning sickness is a bitch. I am so not looking forward to that. Luckily, I won't start showing until after I graduate. Can you imagine the looks I'd get at school? They think I'm freaky enough as it is.

God, I'm only eighteen. I have no job, no job skills, no money. I couldn't live off my mom forever. And what about college? I got those awesome SAT scores letting me choose anywhere I want to go to school and do something other than just be the Slayer. Plus, I can get all sorts of scholarships, too. My mom works too hard as it is to support us, I don't want to disappoint her. I am going to disappoint her anyway when I tell her, just like Giles and dad and my friends and Wesley (although I don't care too much about his opinion).

Angel. What about him? He's going to be so hurt. We both know we can no longer be together, but still, for me to get pregnant now of all times? That's like saying I was lying when I told him I still loved him. But he's the one who would support me no matter what decision I made, he would be the one to tell me what to do. What should I do, Angel?

Tap, tap, tap.

Buffy up from her writing and over at the window to see Angel crouching there. "Speak of the devil," she said to herself as she closed her diary and went to open the window. "Hi."

"Hi," Angel greeted, entering the bedroom. He studied her sad face and reached his hand out to brush a stray hair behind her ear. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, Angel," Buffy said, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his chest. "I don't know what to do." She began to cry.

"Shh," he comforted, holding her. "Whatever it is, I'll help you. You know that."

Buffy forced herself to calm down and stepped away from him, wiping the tears from her face. "You better sit down," she told him.

Dread settled over him as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. "What is it, Buffy?"

She took a deep, shaky breath, looking at a spot on the floor. "I'm pregnant."

"Oh," Angel said, feeling as though someone punched him in the gut. "Are you sure?"

Buffy chuckled harshly. "I'm sure."

"Who's the father?"

"It's...some guy. One night stand," she partially lied, deciding not to tell him. And it was only one night. "Faith's influence."

Angel nodded, not sure if he believed her or not. But he had seen how she had acted before the Deputy Mayor had been killed, so it was a possibility. "Have you told your mother, yet?"

"No, you're the first," Buffy replied. "I don't know if I want to tell her or not. Or even if I want to have the baby. Is that wrong? God, I wish this was all just a nightmare and I would wake up already."

"You have to tell her, Buffy," Angel said, grabbing her hand and pulling her over to him. He pick up the other hand and held both loosely in his. "Rupert, too."

"But..."

"Buffy, if you do or don't decide to have the baby, you're going to need their support," he told her. "You'll always have mine."

"Thanks," she said, giving him a depressed smile. "I really needed to hear that."

"Why don't you go tell your mom and I'll wait here for you," Angel suggested.

"Can't. She went down to LA to pick up a new shipment and to check on Spike," Buffy replied. *Spike. Spike's baby. Ugh. What am I going to do?*

"Then we'll go tell Rupert," he said, standing.

Buffy looked at him pleadingly, but she knew he wouldn't budge. With a heavy sigh, she slid on a pair of jeans under the shirt she was wearing. "I so am not looking forward to this."

"If it's any consolation, you aren't the first Slayer who's been pregnant," he told her.

"Really? I was wondering about that," she said, putting on her shoes. "What happened with her?"

"The ones that I know about...died before they could deliver or lost the baby," Angel answered her quietly.

"Oh," Buffy replied, a horrible feeling of pain and sadness in her heart. She put her hand over her abdomen protectively while a voice in the back of her mind screamed NO!

"Ready?"

She nodded and followed him out of the house. They walked in silence down the tree lined streets as they headed for Giles' house. Buffy's mind was racing with what Angel had told her and the feelings the news evoked. As they walked down the stairs to her former Watcher's front door, she realized that she didn't want to lose the baby. She wanted it to be her choice, a choice that was already leaning towards her having the child.

Angel knocked on the door, then went to stand behind the Slayer. Giles opened the door, one of his many books in hand and gave them both a puzzled and worried look. "What's wrong?"

"Can we come in?" Buffy asked.

"Of-of course," Giles replied, stepping aside to let them pass. Angel stayed off to one side as Buffy nervously wrung her hands as she stood in front of the couch. He looked first at the vampire, then at Buffy, noting their tense expressions.

"Giles, I'm pregnant," Buffy suddenly blurt out. "I'm so sorry, I never meant to get pregnant. It was an accident. One time. And now I'm pregnant. With a baby."

"I would assume with a-a baby," Giles said, not believing his ears. He looked over at Angel again, who nodded in affirmation. "Is-is-is-do-do you know the father?"

"I do, but he doesn't know," she replied, sinking down onto the couch. "I can't believe this."

"I am leaning towards the unbelievable, as well," Giles told her, removing his glasses to rub his eyes.

"Do you hate me?"

"Do I what?" Giles asked, giving her an incredulous look. "Buffy, I could never hate you. This is-is a bit of discerning news, but you have my unequivocal support. You are not the first Slayer to become, er...preg-pregnant."

"That's what Angel said," Buffy replied. "He also said that those girls died or the baby died."

"W-Well, yes," he stammered. "But you are the most unconventional Slayer recorded. You have a support system that none of the others had, plus there are two Slayers now. Although Faith is-is not overly reliable. But I have no doubt that if you decided to have the child, you would."

"Thanks, Giles," Buffy said, standing and giving him a rare hug. "So, what do I do now?"

"That is up to you, Buffy," Giles said. "You must first decide if you are going to have the baby, then we will adjust your duties as necessary."

"What about Wesley?"

"Don't worry about that pil-...him," he replied. "Watcher training does include the issue of pregnancy."

"Ok," she said. "Well, I guess I'll go back home now. I have lots of thinking to do."

"I will see you at school tomorrow," Giles said, escorting the former couple to the door.

"‘Night, Giles," she said as they left.

A short while later, Angel dropped her at her house, then went on his way. The Slayer went up to her room and laid on her bed, her arms wrapped protectively around her. "What am I going to do?"

Angel crouched in front of the fireplace at the mansion, staring sightlessly into the flames. He still couldn't comprehend the fact that Buffy was pregnant. His Buffy. And he didn't even know by who, so that he could go out and pummel him for touching her.

He knew that his thoughts were irrational seeing as he was the one who insisted she'd move on. He just hadn't expected her to move on so soon. It hurt. A lot. He felt as though his heart was being torn into little pieces by a demon's claw.

Now his job of protecting her was going to become tenfold, for he was not only protecting the woman he loved, but her child as well. Angel had no doubt she would have the baby. She had learned how short life was and wanted to experience everything before she died, including being a mother, whether she realized it yet or not. He also knew that if she died, all her friends, including him, would ensure that her child would be loved and protected and knew how truly wonderful his or her mom had been.

Angel sighed and stood, heading for his bedroom. His thoughts turned to the father of Buffy's child once more. *As long as it isn't Xander....*

Part Sixteen

Spike hummed under his breath to the music blaring on his stereo. Bent over a large piece of paper on the coffee table, he added several more precisely placed dots with his black, felt-tip pen. Three weeks had gone by since he'd gotten ill and, except for the actual sickness part, he was beginning to enjoy being human. Being able to go out at anytime was wonderful, as was some of the food he had found. He especially liked ice creme sandwiches, although the chocolate cookie part tended to get stuck in his teeth.

He had thoroughly adjusted to being awake during the day. Not that he hadn't been up during the day when he was still a vampire. Back then he usually was able to sleep for no more than two to three hours beside Drusilla before he'd be up and pacing around, bored out of his skull. Which was one of the reasons why he was so adept at many things - playing the piano, the guitar, hacking, drawing, speaking and reading several different languages and dancing, although that had usually been done with Dru. His love of music and reading also led him to unconsciously memorize most of what he read or heard.

Most of the pictures he had drawn had been left behind when they had fled Prague. The others burned in the fire at the factory and he hadn't drawn any new ones when Angelus had been living with them. All his daytime hours had been spent building back the strength in his legs so he could walk again.

This past week he'd gone out and bought art supplies, then with his stereo blasting, he'd set about recapturing his Princess on paper. After her came Oz and Willow standing next to each other in the sunlight with the shadows they cast being a werewolf and a female with an aura of power. He'd mailed it to Oz on Thursday as Willow's birthday present.

Yesterday he had drawn a quick, evil one of his sire, which he put on the dart board in the basement. Then he started on Buffy. His first few were only sketches, trying to capture her many expressions and moods. Now he was working on a pen-dot portrait of her from one of the thumbnail pictures.

Setting the pen aside, Spike stood and stretched the kinks out of his back from hunching over the table. Grabbing his coffee cup, he padded barefoot to the kitchen, singing along to the music. "Baby, if I think about you, I think about love. Darling, if I live without you, I live without love. And if I had the sun and moon and they were shining, I would give you both night and day love satisfying. Feel like making love. Yeah I feel like making love. Oh I feel like making love. Feel like making love to you."

After refilling his mug with coffee, he had opened the fridge to grab something to eat when the doorbell rang. Snagging a handful of grapes, he popped one into his mouth as he went to answer the door. It was a good thing he'd been in the kitchen where the bell chime was located or he wouldn't have heard it.

Spike opened the front door and blinked in surprise before a big smile came over his face. Popping another grape in his mouth, he stepped back and gestured for the blond to enter, then closed the door behind her. He went over to the end table and picked up the remote, turning down the volume on the stereo.

"Loud much?" Buffy asked with a grin, dropping the bag she had over her shoulder to the floor behind the couch.

"Music is meant to be played loud," he told her. He held out his hand. "Grape?"

"Ooh, yum," Buffy said, snatching one and eating it. "You know what would go good with grapes? Chocolate syrup."

Spike arched his eyebrow at that. "I think I have some in the fridge," he said, leading her in that direction.

Buffy sat down at the kitchen table as he pulled out the bowl of grapes and chocolate syrup. He gave her a bowl, then watched as she smothered the green seedless grapes in chocolate before eating one. "Mmm," she said, chewing with her eyes closed, a heavenly look on her face. "Delicious."

"Has anyone ever told you that you are a bloody strange girl?" Spike asked, picking up his coffee and taking a sip.

"All the time," she replied with a smirk.

"So, what brings you to my neck of the woods? Not that I'm not happy to see you," he added quickly. "Just curious."

"Well...," Buffy began. She had planned on telling him about her condition this weekend, having decided to have the baby. But seeing him standing in front of her had removed all her bravery. "I uh...last time I was here...um...I accidently saw the letter from Drusilla," she finished with a quick lie.

Spike paused with the mug halfway to his mouth. The familiar pain of grief came over him, but not as intense as it had been two months ago. Carefully, he set the cup on the counter, taking several silent, deep breaths before responding. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Well, you were sick and it was private," Buffy answered, scolding herself in her mind for being a chicken. "I was talking to Giles about your human-ness the other day and I told him about it." Which was true. "Then Willow got worried that whoever the man Drusilla was talking about was still after you." Which was also true, except for the part about Willow being the one who was worried.

He frowned, then walked out of the kitchen. Buffy watched him leave with a puzzled look, then stood and followed him. He had seated himself on the couch and was working over something laid on the coffee table. "Spike?"

"Yeah, pet?"

"Did I say something wrong?"

Spike sighed, looking up at her standing at the end of the couch. "I'm sorry, luv. Thinking about Dru...it still hurts."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he replied and went back to the picture.

Buffy sat on the couch next to him and squeezed his knee in sympathy, deciding to change the subject. "So, what'cha working on?"

"You."

"What?" Buffy asked confused.

He chuckled and held up the unfinished paper. "You," he repeated.

Buffy's eyes widened. What had looked like a bunch of dots close up formed a very familiar face. A face that was giving the viewer an exasperated look. "I look like that?"

"All the time, pet, especially when you're looking at me," Spike replied with a grin. "Like you were annoyed with me or something to that effect."

"When am I not annoyed with you?" Buffy teased as he set the paper back on the table.

"See," he said, gesturing to the page. "Exactly."

She shook her head and leaned back on the couch. "Another hidden talent. You know, with all the things you know how to do, you should have been too occupied to go out and terrorize people."

"And lose out on all the literally bloody fun? Never." Buffy laughed and he added a few more pen dots before asking casually, "Staying for the weekend, ducks?"

"If you want me," Buffy replied.

Spike paused mid-dot as sexual excitement coursed through his body at her words. He swallowed heavily, then continued his action. "I'd love to have you, Slayer," he answered quietly, not-so-hidden meaning behind the sentence.

Buffy felt a tingle run through her as she caught his message. "I thought maybe we could get to know each other better."

"How much better?" Spike asked, looking back at her with a smirk.

"I'm hoping for much much better," she said.

"Slayer, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were flirting with me."

"Maybe I am," Buffy said coyly, a small smile on her face.

After getting over his astonishment at her words, Spike and Buffy proceeded to have an enjoyable day together. They went to the movies, played cards, tried to make dinner and failed miserably, and generally had an all around good time.

They were currently sitting in front of the television watching Politically Incorrect and throwing popcorn at the screen each time Linda Tripp appeared. At the commercial break, Spike stood and took the now empty bowl to the kitchen to make more popcorn. "So, how's the hedgehog?" he asked when he'd seen she'd followed.

"I don't have..." Buffy trailed off with a glare. "His name is Angel."

"Yeah, yeah," he said with a wave of his hand.

Buffy continued to glare at him as she answered, "Angel is fine."

"I take it all's well in Lover's Lane then?"

"We're not...together like that anymore," Buffy told him. She frowned. "Deja vu."

"Does this mean I have to give the whole bloody ‘you'll never be friends' speech again?" Spike asked.

"Spike, I will always love Angel, just like you will always love Drusilla," she said, popping a chocolate covered grape from the bowl still on the table into her mouth. "But sometimes that's not enough and you have to move on."

Spike turned and looked at her in surprise. "That's what your mum told me."

"I'm saying momisms?" Buffy asked with a look of horror. She sat down heavily at the kitchen table. "I'm not ready for momisms."

"Don't worry, pet. It'll be awhile until you need them."

"Right. Awhile. Not anytime soon because I'm not pregnant," she said, purposely avoiding the perfect opening to tell him. He was the last one who didn't know of her condition. However, only her mom, Willow and Oz knew he was the father and she'd sworn them all to secrecy.

"I think the show's on," he told her, dumping the fresh popcorn in the bowl.

Buffy jumped up and grabbed two fresh sodas from the fridge, then rejoined him on the couch. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get comfortable again. After ten minutes, she got up. "I'm going to patrol."

Spike looked up at her in shock. "What? Why?"

"Vampires are not exclusive to Sunnydale," she answered.

"I'll go with you," he said, standing.

"No, you stay," she replied quickly.

"But...

"Spike, I am the Slayer, you are human, hence I beat them and you get beaten."

"Fine," Spike said, glaring at her. "But you shouldn't go out there in that condition."

"Jeez, first Angel, then Giles, then mom and Willow, and now you!" Buffy exclaimed. "Just because I'm pre-" She stopped suddenly and looked at him with wide eyes. "You know?"

"That you're underdressed to fight?" Spike asked, confused by her outburst.

Buffy looked down at the shorts and t-shirt she was wearing, then wiggled her bare feet on the carpet. "Oh. Um, yeah. I guess it would be good if I change." She gave him a pained, embarrassed smile, then quickly disappeared up the stairs.

Frowning, he followed her after a minute. "Slayer?" He found her sitting on the small fold-out couch in the sitting room, face in her hands. He walked over and crouched in front of her. "Pet, what's wrong?"

She removed her hands to see Spike looked worriedly at her, his blue eyes filled with questions. "I'm sorry. I'm just..." She yawned, breaking the sentence.

"I have a better idea than patrol, ducks," Spike said, taking her hands in his. "Why don't we call it a night. You can take my bed and I'll stay out here on the sleeper."

"No, I'll stay out here," Buffy said. "I'm the guest."

"And as the guest, I say you take the bed," he replied.

"What if I don't want to? Are you going to make me?"

"Yes," he said. "I will."

Buffy arched her brow in challenge. "And how do you think you're going to do that?"

"Like this," Spike answered, dropping her hands and grabbing her knees.

Buffy squealed out in laughter as he tickled her. She scooted back on the couch away from his hands, but he followed. Kneeling next to her, he grabbed her at the waist, his fingers torturing her hips and ribs.

"No, no, no, stop, stop, stop," she gasped out between laughs, trying to capture his wrists. He evaded her hands, continuously tickling her. Finally, she decided to cheat and rolled off the couch, knocking him backwards onto the floor.

She scrambled to her feet and ran, her footsteps loud and heavy on the stairs. Spike gave chase and they ran around the great room like children.

"Give it up, Slayer," Spike taunted from the opposite side of the downstairs couch.

"It didn't work when you were a bloodsucker and it ain't gonna work now," Buffy shot back, weaving on her feet. He gave her a mocking grin, then faked left before launching himself up the middle, right over the back of the couch.

Surprised, Buffy was tackled to the ground. They both hit with a thud, Spike half on top of her, one arm pinned under her waist. He grinned wickedly at her, his face scant inches away from her own. "Got you."

"I can see that," she breathed, looking into his so blue eyes. "Now what are you going to do with me?"

Spike's grin faded as the chemistry between the two former enemies rose. "I'm going to kiss you," he whispered in reply.

"You are?" Buffy asked in a small, trembling voice.

"Dead cert," he answered, lowering his lips to hers.

The kiss was so gentle, it was as if a breeze brushed over her lips. Her eyes shot open when she felt him pull back and saw a ghostly smile playing on his face as he studied her under his lashes. Whatever he was searching for he must have found because he lowered his head again, capturing her lips.

This kiss was coaxing, asking her mouth to merge with his. Both their breathing sped up as their tongues tentatively met, then slowly began to dance.

Spike's heart was pounding in his chest, the arm he was leaning on was trembling slightly and his brain had shut down completely. All he could focus on was Buffy's soft lips against his, the erotic brush of her tongue. He'd wanted to do this for what seemed like forever.

Eventually they had to break apart. Luminous hazel eyes stared at bright blue ones, their heavy breathing and pounding hearts the only sound in the rom

With a new found awareness, Spike got up and helped Buffy to her feet. He gave her a shy smile, then bent his head and pressed a quick, soft kiss on her lips. Without a word, he put his arm around her waist and led her up the stairs to his bedroom.

Buffy's knees trembled as she stood next to him in the lamp lit room while he turned down the covers. Suddenly, he picked her up in his arms and set her in the bed, smiling mischievously at her, his eyes alight with humor. Brushing a soft kiss across her cheek, he whispered in her ear, "You got the bed."

She started to giggled as he straightened, pulling the covers up over her body. He ran his finger along her jaw line, then tapped it once against her lips. "Goodnight, Slayer."

With a wink, he switched off the lamp and left the bedroom.

Part Seventeen

Buffy heard singing, sort of, as she pad towards the kitchen the next morning. She covered her mouth to hold back her laughter as she watched Spike nod his head in time with the music coming over his walkman as he stood in front of the stove, making breakfast.

"Head like a hole, black as your soul. I'd rather die, than give you control," he sang, stirring the eggs in the pan. "Bow down before the one you serve. You're going to get what you deserve. Bow down before the one you serve." He picked up a second fork and began to tap out a beat on the edge of the metal pan. "You're going to get." He tossed the fork in the air, spinning to catch it. "What you de-"

Spike saw Buffy standing there, watching him. The fork clattered to the ground. Quickly pressing stop on the walkman, he pushed the headphones off his ears. "How long have you been here?" he asked casually.

"Long enough," she replied, taking a seat at the kitchen table, huge smile on her face.

His face was burning as he picked up the fallen fork and tossed it into the sink. Turning back to the pan, he asked over his shoulder, "Hungry?"

"Starved," Buffy answered. "Then again, lately I'm always starved."

"Why's that, pet?" Spike asked.

"I'm...a growing girl," she sort of lied, avoiding telling him yet again. She cursed at herself in her head for being a chicken.

"Eat up, then," he said, putting a plate in front of her. "Can't have my Slayer starve to death."

Buffy looked at the food, then stood and retrieved the syrup from the refrigerator that still proclaimed its love for her. She poured a large amount of the sweet, sticky substance over everything on the plate, then took a bite. "Yum. Delish."

Spike arched a brow at her, but did not comment as he fixed his own plate up before taking a seat across from her. "Did you sleep well, luv?"

"Like a baby," Buffy answered, then lowered her eyes. *Tell him,* she said to herself. "Um, Spike?"

"Yes, pet?"

"Why do you still have all the windows boarded over?" she asked quickly. *Coward.*

He took another bite of food, chewed and swallowed while he gathered his thoughts. "I think it's because I'm afraid."

"You?" Buffy said incredulously.

"Yeah, me," Spike said with the same inflection. "Not everyone can be the fearless Slayer."

"I'm far from fearless, believe me," she said. "But that still doesn't tell me why."

"Maybe I don't want to wake up one day a bloody pile of ashes," he replied, stabbing at his eggs.

"That would be an inconvenience," Buffy joked.

He looked up, saw her grin and rolled his eyes. "You're a laugh a minute, Slayer."

"I know," she replied. They ate in silence for a few minutes until her plate was nearly empty. "This is really good."

"Breakfast I can do," Spike told her. "Especially since I normally get up with the birds."

"Why so early?" Buffy asked.

"I only slept few hours a night, er...day, most of my unlife," he replied. "It didn't change too much now that I'm human."

"I take it that's why you're so good at a lot of stuff," she commented. "Knowing you, you must have really been bored."

"‘Immortality, Captain, consists largely of boredom,'" Spike quoted. At her confused look, he added, "Star Trek."

"Ah," Buffy nodded, giving him an you're-really-weird-but-I'm-not-going-to-say-it-out-loud look.

"Yes, I was bored out of my bloody skull most of the time," he answered her question. "I finished the picture, if you want to take a gander."

Buffy grinned and stood, taking her now empty plate and putting it in the sink. "Is it still on the table?"

"No, it's in the basement," he replied.

She nodded and made her way to the basement as he started to put the dishes in the dish washer. The vastness of the finished room was her first impression as she flipped on the light. Nice beige carpeting covered the floor, fake wood paneling covered the walls. A large computer desk with computer was set up along one wall, shelves of more books and a variety of games lined another.

Walking further into the room, she saw two framed pictures on the wall. "Wow," she said as she saw herself in the finished drawing. The second one was of Drusilla, the vampiress having a faint smile on her lips, her eyes surprising clear and full of devilish mischief. She heard Spike come down the stairs and commented over her shoulder, "These are really good."

"Thanks, pet," Spike replied, coming to stand behind her. "I did one of Willow and Oz which I sent to Oz the other day."

"For her birthday?" Buffy asked. She caught sight of another picture out of the corner of her eye.

"Yes," he answered as she walked away from him.

"Spike," she sighed when she was close enough to the picture on the dartboard. "This isn't very nice."

"Who said I was nice?" Spike replied.

She scowled at him, then returned to looking at the picture. "It is a good picture of Angel, though, in a mocking sort of way."

"Thank you," he said sincerely. He gave her a lopsided grin at her look. "So, pet, what are you up for today? Cards? Going for a walk? Making out?"

Buffy gave him a slow, seductive smile and walked over to him with a sexy prowl. She put her hands on his t-shirt clad chest. "I think," she said, running her hands up around his neck. "We should." She looked up at him and licked her lips. "Go for a walk."

Spike groaned as she stepped back from him with an evil grin. "That was cruel, Slayer."

"But fun," Buffy replied cheerfully.

His arms snaked out and yanked her to him, pressing her petite form to his lanky one. "This is funner," he whispered before capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

This kiss was infinitely more powerful than the tentative one they shared the previous night. He demanded rather than asked, claimed rather than coaxed as their mouths and tongues met in a passionate battle. Both their hearts were slamming against their rib cages, excitement coursing through them while they melted against one another, trying to get closer.

Spike released her slowly, their breaths coming in quick pants, and took a step back. "Now," he croaked, his voice heavy with arousal. He cleared his throat, then continued. "How ‘bout that walk?"

It was cool outside for early May, but that did not deter families from venturing forth. The park where they walked to was full of people enjoying the sunny Sunday. Children played catch with their dads, some flew kites, others fed the ducks floating in the small lake in the center of the park. Side by side, the two former enemies made their way down the path around that lake, avoiding rollerbladers and bicyclers until they came to a bridge crossing the water. There, Spike led Buffy down the bank to the water's edge where small fish could be seen swimming in the shallow stream that fed the lake.

"This is my favorite spot," Spike confided in her as he picked up a handful of rocks and began skimming them across the surface. "Even when I was my old self, I'd come down here and sit under the bridge all day, protected from the sun but still able to enjoy it."

"Are you sure you're a vampire?" Buffy asked, crouching to run her hand in the water. "Or rather, were."

"Some little blond girl changed me," he admitted. "I loved violence and death, being in control. My days were filled with things to entertain myself, but my nights were for the hunt, for blood. Then I go to Sunnyhell with my Princess and my perfect unlife started to fall apart."

"How? You seemed pretty confident and in control to me," she said, picking up a shiny rock from beneath the surface.

"First of all, no matter what I did, you and your mates blocked me at every turn," he said, tossing a rock at a school of fish. "Then you go and drop a bloody organ on me."

"Mess with my boyfriend, you pay the price," Buffy said with a grin.

"But then your bloody boyfriend came back to our side and made a mess of my life," Spike replied. "He took over my home, took my woman and was a bloody fucking nuisance all around. Add to that the fact that I was stuck in a bloody wheelchair because of you."

"Sorry," she apologized, giving him a sheepish grin.

"Don't be, pet," he told her. "If it was the three of us, you'd be six feet under no matter that you're the best Slayer I've ever seen."

"Overconfident much?"

"Only telling the truth, Slayer," Spike replied. "I would have killed you just to shut the wanker up, but I couldn't and I ended up admiring you even more than I already did."

"You admired me?" Buffy asked, surprised.

"Of course," he answered without hesitation. "You're a beautiful, strong, witty girl who didn't give into Angelus' games. Then I made the deal with you to get Dru back and we left, but I couldn't stop thinking about you, wondering if you were alright. That was one of the reasons I went back to that bloody hell hole."

Buffy looked up at him. The sun was casting strong shadows on his face, making his already chiseled features more defined. His brow was knitted slightly as if in disgust or anger with himself.

"Then I found out that stupid wanker was all soul-having again and I got jealous," Spike continued. "Jealousy on me does not equate with logic, hence the spell to make Drusilla love me again."

"But the spell was never completed," Buffy said. "And you said you were going to go back and torture her into loving you again."

"Never made it," he shrugged. "Ended up here in LA, trying to forget the way you pressed up against me in your kitchen, or the way you fought by my side, or the way you told me to duck." He skimmed another rock across the surface. "Good thing I was already dead or I would have bloody well drank myself to death. I started coming out here after I got the house to be part of your world even if only a little. Then one day I woke up human and the rest you know."

Buffy stood and went over to him. "Well, I'm glad you changed or I would never had gotten the chance to know how great you really are," she said, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck and pulling his head down for a kiss.

Spike blinked in surprise, then dropped the rocks still in his hand and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close as his eyes closed. The kiss was tender and sweet and they stood exploring and tasting one another until a few kids from the bridge above started dropping rocks into the water near them.

Breaking apart was difficult for both. Spike brought his hand around and put it under her chin, lightly caressing her lower lip with his thumb. "Have I told you how wonderful you are?"

"Once," she replied. "But you were slightly delirious and naked at the time." The look on his face made her giggle. "Don't worry, I didn't look...much."

Spike started to blush, releasing her. "Did I do anything else that I don't bloody remember so I can be embarrassed all at one time?" He watched as a deep blush stole over her face, deeper then his and he sighed. "What did I do?"

"You remember I told you that you talk in your sleep?" Buffy asked, her eyes studiously avoiding his as she geared herself up to tell him. "Well, let's just say that's not all you do in your sleep."

He frowned, not understanding. "I didn't wet the bed, did I?"

"No," she replied immediately. "Nothing like that."

"Good," he said. After she didn't go on, he asked, "Then what did I bloody do?"

"You, um..." Buffy paused and took a deep breath, then quickly finished, running her words together. "Madelovetome."

"Do what?" Spike stepped forward and captured her chin, making her look up at him. "Repeat that."

Buffy was blushing so red, she must have matched Willow's hair. "You made love to me," she replied in a small voice.

Shock could not adequately describe the look on Spike's face. He let go of her and took a step back, almost falling over the loose rocks. He could not believe what she just told him. How could he not remember making love to her? It was his every fantasy to do that, and he slept through it. "Bloody fucking hell," he cursed, staring at her.

Buffy's face fell into sadness at his reaction. "I'm sorry. It happened so quickly that I didn't stop you. I understand why you wouldn't want to..." She was interrupted by him grabbing and silencing her with a hard kiss.

"Slayer, do not ever think that I would not bloody want to," Spike told her. "I want to make love to you so badly it hurts, and not just here." He put her hand on the bulge in his jeans that had hardened when he thought of making love to her. "I love you so bloody fucking much and hate that the first time I was able to touch your heavenly body I was fucking asleep!"

She stared at him, her eyes huge as she felt the evidence of his arousal and heard his words. She knew that he loved her, he'd told her often enough even though he'd been mostly out of it. But she thought that he would have been ecstatic, not angry. If this was his reaction to him making love to her, she could imagine what it would be if she told him she was pregnant. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be sorry, pet," he said, stifling his anger at himself. "I should be bloody apologizing. It couldn't have been all that good to have my affections thrust onto you."

"Nice choice of words," she couldn't help saying. She began to giggle, which turned into a full fledged laugh as the conversation played back in her mind.

Spike stared at her as if she'd grown a second head. "What's so funny, Slayer?"

"You, me, this," Buffy laughed.

"It's not funny," he growled, stalking away from her back up the side of the bank. "I wanted candles and soft sheets and music and to be bloody conscious!"

Buffy watched as he stomped off, her laughter dying immediately. Tears sprung in her eyes as he disappeared from sight, the fact that she didn't tell him about the baby weighing heavily on her. Wiping her eyes, she climbed up the bank and headed back towards the house alone.