Chapter 7


For a sick and dying Slayer, she certainly appeared to be the picture of health. Her appetite was insatiable lately and it appeared that her petite body wasn't going to be petite much longer if she kept it up. When she thought he wasn't looking, he gazed at her gorgeous form as she undressed and he'd noticed the tiniest pooch beginning to form in her once-flat tummy. But he couldn't deny a dying girl the right to a meal fit for a queen.

He'd spent days pouring over dozens of cookbooks, looking for new and tantalizing meals to feed her. When he'd first moved in, the cupboards were filled with canned items and her refrigerator was practically bare. A ton of frozen TV dinners were stacked in the freezer. It was that instant he took a portion of the money he'd gotten from selling the kittens and stocked her shelves with health food…vegetables, fruits and a few other items for making freshly baked items—just like her mother used to make.

She had been sick a few times the last three months, but mainly in the early morning. By noon her appetite was as voracious as ever and he would make her something special in kind.  Sleep was also not a stranger to her, she took several naps during the day—when she wasn't watching Passions with him—and slept like a baby most nights.  Except for now she was having the opposite problem, incurable insomnia. He'd attempted to buy her sleep aids, but she'd adamantly refused them. Matter of fact, any medication of any sort was treated like poison—even aspirin for her periodic headaches.

The nights she couldn't sleep were the worst nights for him, yet were also the best. Sometimes he wondered if she was truly wired or if she just longed to be close to him. But he didn't dare to hope that she still had feelings for him. She'd been very clear the night she left his crypt that there could never be anything between the two of them. And she hadn't attempted any moves towards him that would imply she felt anything more than friendliness, so he kept his hands to himself as much as he could. But when she curled herself under his chin, it was impossible not to wrap his arms around her. She seemed to enjoy
his stories and poetry…all written about her. And yes, there were the songs, but those were too difficult for him—tears always burning beneath the surface. But since it made her so happy, he tried to
oblige her every so often.

Tonight her complaint had been different. Hadn't been exactly directed towards him, but he was ready, willing and able to assist her. Her calves had been cramping periodically, she'd been up sick most of the day and was truly miserable. His heart was breaking in his chest watching her misery. The pain was so intense it was making it impossible to sleep.

Gently he eased her hands from her legs and replaced them with his own, massaging the length of the tightened muscle. Soft moans indicated to him that whatever he was doing, he was doing it extremely well. She melted like butter under the ministrations of his caring fingers, pressing the flesh upwards, then slowly bringing it down and tickling the soles of her feet. He smiled as she giggled when his fingertip grazed an especially sensitive part of her foot, yet stretched out and offered him more to caress.

Chapter 8


It seemed almost too good to be true. Morning sickness was bad, but not as bad as she'd heard. Spike was certainly playing the doting daddy-to-be exceptionally well. This morning was no different. A new sensation to experience with this latest joy of impending motherhood—leg cramps. She'd attempted to close her eyes and sleep through the annoying pain, but finally it became too much to bear. Spike, being as attentive as ever had come quickly to the rescue and pushed her hands out of the way.

His healing hands artfully kneaded her knotted muscles and sore tendons, bringing deeper and deeper waves of relaxation with every stroke. Those hands were worth a million dollars to her at that moment and she was glad they were all hers. Without even asking, he'd begun to massage her aching feet as well. Pure bliss would be the only way to describe the feel of his hands on her.

And now, a long-forgotten sensation was coming to a head as his talented fingers teased her warming skin. Ok, maybe not teased—because he was keeping things quite innocent—but she FELT teased. Without even realizing it, she'd offered him more and more of her leg until the massage turned more intimate.
 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

Touching the Slayer was pure torture, but touching her in the places he had begun to venture into went beyond torture—it was a fiery hell. She'd gradually been offering more and more of her leg despite the care he'd taken to avoid going too far, who was he to deny her? This was stupid. As soon as it was all over, she'd be right back to her self-righteous ways. Or would she? Maybe knowing these were her last moments on earth, she'd wanted to enjoy them with him! And he would never be so callous as to deny her what she needed—no matter how deeply it hurt him in the end. And frankly he'd needed it just as badly too—knowing these would be the last times he'd ever be able to feel the heated flesh of his Slayer writhing beneath his fingertips.

So it was decided. Whatever baby wants, baby gets.

Chapter 9

Magnificent hands moved from ankle to knee, and back down again, sending shivers up her spine. It had been so long since she'd given his tepid hands access to any unclothed part of her. Now she was happily accepting the soothing and exciting contact of skin-on-skin. Every caress traveled higher and higher until he had reached them hem of her nightshirt, then lingered there timidly until she parted her legs in invitation.

A giggle escaped as she observed his gaping mouth. His eyes were filled with wonderment, as a child opening a holiday gift, when she'd parted her thighs to him. It was endearing to watch his bashful gaze as he appeared to debate this intimate contact. Didn't take long, however, for his natural male instincts to take charge and he soon trailed a path to the crease of her thigh.

She was hungry with need as she urged his taunting fingers further towards her drenched center. The heel of his hand pressed against her and he hissed as the heat of her sex burned against him. Slowly he ground it round and round, drawing an earnest plea for him to help her find release. Varying his pressure and speed drove her completely mad--the thin satin of her panties becoming more and more saturated every moment he denied his fingers access.

"Please…oh god…there…harder…oh please…S-S-Spiiiike…you have to…have to…now!"

"You want it, kitten? Want me to take you there? Make you come?" he smiled his trademark devilish grin, his tongue darting out between his teeth. "Yes…please…make me…make me come…make me come now. I want –want to feel you inside…inside me…so wet…need it…please…make me come!" she gasped, breathing hitching under his enchanting touch.

"Gonna make you come hard…and slow…understand, pet? Hard…and…slow…can you feel it?" His hands slipped inside the satin undergarment and lightly teased her silken folds. She was unbelievably wet for him, her scent so overpowering it practically screamed his name.

"Hard…slow…yes….yes I—I can f-fEEL it!" she yelped as he flicked her clit and she rained her succulent juice onto his hand. Hovering above her, he moved as if to kiss her, but instead remained a hair's breadth from her ear, whispering his loving instructions to her.

"Yes. You can feel it. Feel me inside you. Does it feel good baby?"

"Mmm-nuuuhhh" Obviously a yes.

"I know it does sweetheart. I can feel how wet you are. Soaked to the skin, I am. But I still need to make you come, luv. Will you let me make you come?" he growled.

"Yessss…make me come Spike…I'm ready…p-please make me come!" she insisted, pulling his hands tighter to her body.

"Look at me Buffy," he spoke to her softly, passion burning in the cool blue depths of his eyes, "I want to watch you come. And I want you to watch me make you come."

Her eyes opened and gazed into the piercing cobalt gaze. He nearly lost it as her stare connected with his and they lost themselves in each other's eyes.

"Deeper…Deeper…Deeper into me…as I go deeper into you."

Her breaths were ragged. Her voice thick with yearning--moaning being the only coherent thought she could muster.

"Now Buffy, come with me now…now!" And with that one last command, he rubbed her clit with gentle fury. The orgasm engulfed her entire body and she shouted as it shook with release, showering his hand with her luscious cream. He stilled his hand, yet it remained sheathed in her as her muscles clenched and relaxed around his fingers.

As she began to doze off, he murmured in her ear, "Legs feel better, luv?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she spoke in a calm, hushed voice, "Best massage ever. Legs don't even work now. Thanks."

And with that, she was fast asleep.

Chapter 10

He loved to wake up with her nestled in his arms. Quite possibly the only taste of heaven he might ever experience. It seemed she was having quite a nice dream as she squirmed to get closer to him. His arms tightened protectively around her and she relaxed, her legs melting over his.

Long black lashes rose to reveal her stunning jade eyes as she awoke, yawning and stretching against the length of his body as she stirred. He half-expected her to jump up after realizing where she was and run away, virtue fluttering. Instead, she brought her face up to meet him and kissed him softly on the cheek.

"Good morning," she responded, sleep still evident in her voice.

"More like `Good Afternoon', sleepyhead! You slept nearly all day!" he pointed out the clock on the night table. It was just after 3 p.m. and having slept that long, he knew the Slayer would be restless most of the night. Which was fine with him because she was slowly becoming attuned to his schedule—which only meant more time together.

Instantly she perked up and declared, "Let's go shopping!"

"Shopping, pet? Are you sure you're up to it?" he asked.

"Sure, I need some new clothes since I'm starting to outgrow these things and we should probably get some of that `other' stuff too before I get too far along."

His throat tightened once again as she started chattering cheerfully about her impending death. How could she so casually talk about clothes shopping and casket shopping all in one sentence and not even get the tiniest bit misty-eyed? But as usual, he could never deny her what she wanted.

"Sure, luv. Anything you want," he managed to choke out.

"Yippee!" she squealed and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, planting a huge wet smooch on his unsuspecting lips. He returned it with equal fervor and unbridled passion, longing for the taste of her sweet mouth on his. Eventually she broke the kiss, but not before taking a few more moments in his embrace. "Ok, we're never going to get anywhere if we keep doing this."

"Was kind of my plan, kitten," he added with a flirtatious wink. However, that was not enough to sway the determined Slayer. A raised eyebrow and a finger to his lips told him that there was plenty of time for that later. So he begrudgingly pulled on his jeans while she ran to the bathroom to shower.

He longed to join her in that shower, his groin aching as he imagined the soap gliding down her fair skin—the shampoo scenting her hair… <<Ok, enough of that. Focus. Shopping.>>

Nearly an hour later, she was ready to go but had to wait—rather impatiently—for the sun to set. The second the sun had disappeared below the horizon, they set out for an evening of frivolous purchases.

Beaming bright as the sun itself, she bounced happily in her seat until they arrived at the local shopping center. She took him by the hand and dragged him into the women's department. This was not a place for a vampire to be, looking at all of these outfits that he imagined on his Slayer. Of course, there was the lingerie section…on second thought, maybe it wasn't such a bad place to be after all. He convinced her that he was going to look for a surprise for her while she did her shopping and endless trying on of every godforsaken outfit in the store. It came as no surprise to him when she agreed.

Chapter 11

It felt so good to get out of that musty old apartment and out into the fresh air. Too many days had been spent indoors and she longed to feel the warm summer air blowing on her face. A little sadness tugged at her heart as the weather reminded her of the sunny Californian climate. In her current condition, the warmth soon didn't feel quite as good as she remembered it--the baby adding several unneeded degrees to her body temperature.

But still she was happy to be out and about…and shopping! To some degree, she'd felt guilty about spending his money, since she was currently unemployed. But it was at his urging that she wasn't Working Girl, so it didn't bother her quite as much as it could have. Her clothing was beginning to become uncomfortably tight as her swelling abdomen pressed into the waistband of her jeans. Plus, having entered her second trimester, she figured it was about time they spent some money on the baby.

She couldn't believe how quickly her tummy was filling out. One of her co-workers at the Doublemeat hadn't even begun really showing until her fifth month and Buffy already looked like she was well ahead of that. She wished that she could have an obstetrician like normal girls, but with an abnormal pregnancy such as hers, she feared the information may fall into the wrong hands. There were plenty of books out there that told you what to expect when you were expecting, so her mind was set at ease to some degree. Hospitals and doctors would be reserved for emergencies only—or impending births.

The maternity section was filled with many different styles as she flipped through the racks of clothing. Some were frumpy with big bows. Some were dorky with the picture of the stork and the arrow pointing at the belly. But those really weren't her style. Instead she chose more `hip' clothes that would flatter the rest of her figure. She had taken some of her mother's old maternity shirts from the basement, but most of them were too embarrassingly outdated for her taste.

Her first purchase included a beautiful red cotton top with a deep V- neck and short sleeves. The next was a powder blue button up blouse. No bows. No frills. She may be a mother, but "mom" didn't have to mean "geek" either. Dresses seemed to appeal to her the most. The flowing fabric making the rounding of her belly barely noticeable. Not that she didn't want her pregnancy to be noticed, but she didn't want to flaunt the fact that she was the size of a small house to the neighborhood either.

Her thoughts began wandering to Spike. Where did he go? And what was the surprise? She could barely contain her curiousity as she waited at the front of the store for him. Her eyes scanned the entire store for him when he took longer than expected—until a hand settled on her shoulder and she'd nearly jumped out of her skin! Apparently she'd taken a lot longer than he had and he'd gone to a handful of other stores and done some extra shopping in the meantime.

"Are we all finished then?" he smiled as he noticed her 2 large bags, filled to the brim.

"Almost," she added with a wink.

Walking side by side, the arrived in front of the store she'd longed to enter all day long. Soft creams, pastel pinks and powder blues covered the entire shop and Buffy entered it, falling in love with nearly every item they carried.

"Look! Isn't this the cutest thing?" she asked, holding up a tiny pink stuffed bunny. More `oohs' and `aahs' as she went from one end of the store to another picking up the tiny hats, tiny toys and even tinier booties, cooing as only an expectant mother could.

* * * * * * * *

"Buffy, if you want to get to the `other place', you may want to hurry and stop dawdling here." It pained him to watch her fawning over the infant clothing—knowing that she wouldn't live long enough to ever feel the joy of a tiny bundle snuggling in her arms.

She frowned at him and stated in her most annoyed voice, "We ARE at the other place, silly! Aren't you even going to look?"

Ok. Now she was just acting plain old-fashioned insane! It was probably best to remove her before she broke down and made a scene. He mustered up his sweetest, quietest voice—the one he used to save for Drusilla, "Sweetheart, I think we've seen enough now. Yes, they're all hopelessly adorable and yes I could eat that up, but I think you need to stop torturing yourself. Let's just get you home and into a nice hot bath, ok?"

Now she was pouting. Oh, he was going to pay for that one later, he could tell. "Tomorrow. Can we come back tomorrow?" she asked with pleading eyes.

"Sure pet, whatever you want." and with that, he led her quietly out of the store.

Chapter 12


The ride home was quiet and uneventful. However, the second they entered the apartment together, the bitch within unleashed itself.

"What the hell was that all about in there?" she spat.

"I don't know what you mean, luv."

"Bullshit! What was the whole don't-torture-yourself song and dance all about? I thought you were happy about this?"

Now he was going to have the audacity to get pissed enough to start morphing into game face.

"Happy? Happy!? Maybe you're `happy' about this, but it doesn't mean I have to be! I told you I'd be here for you until the end and I meant every word of that. But I tell you this now Slayer, I…will… NEVER…be…HAPPY…about this…EVER!"

Shock. Slapped-in-the-face shock. Brutal! What the hell was his game? Did he just plan to stay long enough for her to squirt out the kid and then be on his merry way? It hurt—and hurt deep.

"This is YOUR child too, WILLIAM! And I'll be damned if I'm going to stand here and listen to you talk about our baby this way. Now GET OUT!"


* * * * * *


Who the hell did she think she was? Wanting him to be HAPPY for her? The love of his unlife was going to wither away and die and no matter how hard she tried he wasn't going to be ha….what?

"What?"

"I said GET OUT! NOW!" she screamed.

Ok, either she was delusional or he was the most ignorant man on the face of the planet.

"No, before that…a child? What child? How? Mine?"

Those green eyes flickered with rage as she shot daggers in his direction, her voice low and angry, ready to explode at any moment. "Don't you play stupid with me, William. I told you at the park and you've been the doting father with me ever since. Don't even THINK you're going to play Amnesia Boy now."

"But I thought…you put my head on your…that means your not…not…"he began to sob and reached to pull her into his embrace. However, he was met with a flying fist to the nose.

"Don't you DARE touch me, Spike!" she was shaking as the anger and frustration released itself upon him. But her features softened as she watched him crumble to the ground in a heap of hysterical crying. "What's wrong? Answer me! What the hell is wrong?"

"You're…you're not…not…dying?" he asked, blood trickling down his lip.

"Um, no…I'm not dying to my knowledge. Although I feel like it sometimes with that wicked morning sickness. But no, not dying. You thought I was dying? How could you think I was dying of all things?"

Oh god, he was officially the most ignorant person alive…well, undead. "You just put my head on your body and I heard this unusual heartbeat and I thought that you had some sort of condition and then you said `eight months' and I thought you meant how long you had to live! How was I supposed to know?"


* * * * * * *


Anger turned to hysterical laughter as she watched the realization begin to sink in on the vampire. Ok, it wasn't so funny that he thought she was dying, but how he had missed the clues she gave him stunned her. She'd hardly envisioned Spike, vampire extraordinaire, as being ignorant.

Bending down beside him, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed the top of his head. "Yep. Sorry to say I'm not dying. Just going to have your baby."

His eyes blinked at her in disbelief, "M-Mine? H-how?"

"Don't know sweetie, but you my baby daddy," she giggled. The faintest smile began to creep across his mouth as it all began to make sense to him. Pressing his ear to her growing tummy, he listened carefully.

Chapter 13
 

Didn’t know a bleeding thing about babies, but the harder he listened, the wider his grin became. Wait til the Slayer found out. No wait, she wasn’t going to find out. He was going to let her be surprised. Sure, it was evil not to tell her, but he WAS a soulless vampire after all.

"What?" she asked impatiently.

Best to put on an innocent face now. "Nothing. Just enjoying the sounds of our baby. It’s amazing Buffy."

"So…"

"What, luv?"

"When do I get my surprise? You didn’t honestly think I forgot, did you?" Her not-so-subtle smile reminded him of the packages he’d purchased earlier. And before he could say a word, she was digging through the various bags.


* * * * * * *


The first bag came from a fancy lingerie shop. She opened it to reveal a slinky red satin and black lace babydoll. A blush, nearly as red as the satin, stained her cheeks when she thought of wearing it in his presence. Simply imagining the feel of his fingertips sliding across the fabric was enough to excite her. Envisioning him guiding the straps down her shoulders or slipping his hands underneath made things even worse.

"Fancy it pet?"

The words broke through her daydream and she nodded slowly, body humming with anticipation of modeling this little number for him later.

Ok, time to move on to the next package before I get myself too worked up.

The next bag came from a department store and revealed a package of bed linens. Red satin sheets with black trim. She sensed a theme here, either that or Spike just had a thing for that color scheme. The thought made her giggle to herself. It was truly exquisite and she longed to feel the cool material against her skin as she made passionate love to her vampire lover.

"The mother of my child shouldn’t have to sleep on itchy cotton every day. She should be bathed in satin and silk and all of the finest fabrics the world has to offer." he said, interrupting her erotic thoughts. Pulling the sheets from the package, he caressed the fabric down her jawline and traced a path down her neck. At that point, she didn’t even care what was in bag number three.

"Will you try it on for me, luv?" he added with a sly grin, his tongue darting out seductively.

With an equally sensual smirk, she playfully replied, "Later. Definitely."

"Why not now?"

The mother-to-be took over her, "Hungry."


* * * * * * * *


"Of course you are, kitten. How about you get comfy here on the couch and I’ll go take care of dinner, sound good?"

"Like heaven," she replied and stretched out lazily across the sofa. Yes, she was definitely spoiled. And he wanted to spoil her rotten—which would explain why he was taking off the Slayer’s shoes when she was perfectly capable of removing them herself.

Chapter 14

 

He began to sauté the sliced vegetables in some olive oil and sprinkled some savory herbs for added flavor. The chicken that he was baking still had a few minutes to go. It was surprising to him that with the delectable scents that were clinging to the air, the Slayer still hadn’t stirred from the sofa. Entering quietly into the living room revealed that she was once again fast asleep. Mothers sure needed a lot of rest. And with what she was carrying, no amount of rest would ever be enough.

Since she was resting so peacefully, he decided to make up the bed with the new linens he had purchased. He planned to spoil her tonight in ways she couldn’t dream of. As the last few minutes wound down on the timer, he decided to wake up the sleepy girl. A gentle kiss atop her forehead caused her to stir, but not enough to wake her. However, a firm and sensuous kiss upon her lips caused her eyes to flutter open, only to close halfway as she returned the kiss.

"Ready for some dinner, Princess?"

"In a minute," she answered and pulled him closer to her, intensifying the kiss.

"Now, now mum. There’ll be plenty of time for that later, understood? I won’t have you starving our child now." he added with a playful smile.

"Smells wonderful, Spike. You’re too good to me."

He realized that he really WAS too good to her, spoiling her with delicious meals and whatnot. A once badass vampire was now nothing more than the Slayer’s willing slave—and he was quite ok with that. It pleased him to no end to know that he would be a father to the Slayer’s children. He wasn’t quite sure how it all happened, but knew that the Powers must have had a good reason.

Everything had been neatly arranged on the tray he prepared and he was quite proud of the artistry. As he entered the living room, ready to serve his Slayer the most sumptuous meal of her life, he noticed she wasn’t there.

"Buffy?" he called.

"In here," she answered. She was in the bedroom judging from the sound. That vixen! He was determined that she would surely eat first, shag later. No woman of his was going to go hungry, no matter how uncomfortable his jeans may be at the present time.

Entering the bedroom, tray in hand, he noticed she was tucked snugly underneath the covers—waiting for him. She sat up as he entered, revealing the babydoll she had decided to try on after all.

"Don’t worry, I plan to eat first," she answered as if reading his mind. "I just wanted to enjoy all of this."

That coy smile nearly convinced him that food could wait, but he refused to give in to his demanding urges. Setting the tray in front of her, he seated himself beside her. She reached for the fork only to have her hand slapped away.

"No sweetheart. I’m going to spoil you rotten. I don’t want you lifting a finger. Understand?"

"Yes Sir!" she gleefully responded. Judging by the glimmer in her eyes, she intended to savor every minute of his pampering.