Because

by Ivy

Rating: Like the show.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss would drop dead before he allowed our couple to be this happy.
Summary: Things are looking crappy for our poor Slayer. Angel helps. :)
Notes: Because of the messes that are going on in the lists, I felt the need for a nice fluffy B/A fic...Buffy and Angel forever!
Feedback is ALWAYS appreciated!! I'm sad to say that lately there has not been as much as before... So, pretty please?
Elizabeth.I should have sent this to you first, but I couldn't wait!!
Another note: Angel is NOT human. Repeat: Not human. But somehow, he knocked up Buffy. Don't ask, just accept it. Okay? :)


Buffy huffed and groaned and eventually managed to remove herself from her car. Sighing, she picked up her grocery bags and her purse. Uncomfortably, she shifted in her overalls, feeling incredibly warm, and pushed a few stray strands from her ponytail off her forehead. It was depressing; she couldn't even see her feet anymore. And the HORMONES... In the grocery store she had nearly beaten up a woman who wanted the last carton of milk.

Tomorrow was her thirtieth birthday. THIRTIETH.

Buffy was a fat pregnant cow who was turning thirty.

"God," she grumbled, and waddled up the driveway into her house.

Tiredly, she pushed open the door, noticing that the inside lights were off. "Angel?" she called. She put her keys down on the little table in the front hall and frowned. She walked into the den, which also was dark with the lack of light...

"SURPRISE!" voices screamed suddenly.

In a split second, the lights were on; Buffy saw that her friends, her mother, Giles, and Angel had popped out from various hiding places; and they all wore huge smiles on their faces. And there were balloons and food and streamers everywhere.

Buffy stared. "Uh, guys?"

"Happy birthday Buffy!" chirped Willow. She hugged her (although it was slightly awkward because of her belly) and smiled again. From the crowd came similar wishes.

Angel sidled up beside Buffy and gave her a little kiss on the cheek. Buffy barely registered it. "Thanks, honey," she said. She looked at her friends. "You guys planned this? For me?"

"Yup," Xander answered. "You know, it's been a while since your seventeenth, so we figured not a lot could go wrong."

"And we wanted to do something nice for your thirtieth, honey," said Joyce. "I wouldn't let it go by without any celebration. It's a big deal." The words were cheerful.

"Right.big deal," repeated Buffy, looking a little bewildered.

"Buffy?" asked Willow, concern etched on her face. "You okay?"

"Of course I'm okay!" exclaimed Buffy, a totally opposite expression on her face. She looked like her puppy had just died.

"Big party.yay." she continued, her eyes tearing up. "I'm turning thirty.there should be a--" She sniffed and hiccuped a little, "-a big party, you know? Because it's thirty.I'm pregnant...it's a time of celebration..." More tears. Everyone in the room stared at her in horror.

"Buffy," broke in Angel.

"No, it's fine, Angel. Really!" She sobbed and wiped at her face with her hands. "I'm thirty tomorrow and I'm just--it's just--I--I--" She sniffed again. "I'm so--Party!"

That was the last word she squeaked before she burst into a complete torrent of tears and ran out of the room.

"Oh dear," said Joyce unnecessarily.

"It looks like our party wasn't such a good idea," frowned Willow, looking in the direction that Buffy had run.

"I think I jinxed it," said Xander, gulping a little.

Without hesitation, Angel ran after Buffy.

~~~~~

"Buffy," called Angel softly. He followed the sounds of her crying and it led him to the master bathroom. Cautiously, he pushed open the bathroom door to find Buffy sitting on the floor next to the toilet, surrounded by balled-up tissues.

He moved to sit down next to her and crossed his legs. "Hey."

She sniffed and looked at him with big eyes. "Is everyone really mad?"

"No, of course not," he said. "Just worried about you." He cupped her chin in his large hand. His touch was soothing and familiar and she calmed down a little. "You okay?"

She nodded and sniffed. "Yeah," she answered, "I just wish I hadn't blown up like that." She pouted. "I hate hormones."

He laughed a little and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "It'll be--"

"--worth it, I know," Buffy finished for him. "I know." She plucked another tissue out of the box, fumbling with it. Intently, Angel studied her face for a moment.

"Tell me what else is bothering you," he prodded gently.

Her eyes met his. "Nothing," she said. "You know, trials of pregnancy and all..."

He gave her a 'fine-I'll-wait-for-you-to-tell-me' look and sat there patiently.

She sighed. That look could always get anything out of her. "I don't know...it's just..." She avoided his gaze. "I'm thirty," she mumbled.

Angel didn't get it. "Yeah, you are," he agreed.

"No, Angel," she said, exasperated, "I'm thirty. The big three-oh. Over the hill. As in, hello adulthood. Pretty soon I'll start having a midlife crisis."

"I think you have to be a *little* older to have a midlife crisis, Buffy," he replied, smoothing the hair away from her face. "Is this what you're worried about? Getting older?"

"Well, yeah," she answered. "But..."

"But..." he prompted.

"It's you," she answered, her eyes sad. "Soon I'll look older than you."

"Oh, Buffy," he said tenderly, "Álainn, you know I don't care about that."

"It matters to me," she argued. "We look similar enough now, but in five years? Ten?"

"Buffy, how old you are, and the way you look doesn't matter to me."

"I'm just afraid you won't love me anymore." The look in her eyes was unbearable.

He was desperate to make her feel better. "Buffy, can't you see that I love you because of you, not the way you look?" He took one of her little hands in his and stroked it lightly. "How can I prove that to you?" He looked at her.

She just met his gaze glumly and was silent.

And as Angel looked upon his love, he had an idea.

*****

Buffy awoke slowly in the morning, the sun shining through the open curtains on the windows onto her bed. Sleepily, she rolled out of the covers.

My birthday, she thought, as she tied her silk maternity bathrobe around her substantial figure. Angel's probably downstairs making me breakfast, and he'll have a special present for me.

She smiled happily, trying to forget the previous night's worries, and padded towards the closed bedroom door, her hand reaching for the doorknob. She stopped.

Taped to the door was a perfectly shaped red rose, and a folded piece of parchment paper.

Curiously, she pulled the paper and the rose off the door, and while breathing in the scent of the rose deeply, she opened the piece of paper and read the following note.

Buffy, I love you because of the way you look in the mornings, even though I can never see the sun shining on your face./

She reread it several times, a little confused, but happy. Hmm, she pondered. Well, he said he was going to prove it to me.

As soon as she opened the bedroom door, she saw at four more matching roses and notes on the stair railing.

She made her way down the stairs slowly, reading each note one at a time.

The first one read,

Buffy, I love you because one day, down the road, when you have little wrinkles around your eyes, they will not take away from your beauty.they will add to it./

Another step down the stairs, another note. It went on until she reached the end of the staircase.

I love you because of the way your skin glows when you're pregnant./ I love you because of the way your tiny perfect hands will cradle our child./

I love you because of the way your eyes are always so expressive of the way you're feeling...I can see myself reflected in your eyes when you look at me in love./

Her interest was peaked. She knew he wouldn't just end it there.and sure enough, as she walked from the stairs into the broad expanse that was her sunny kitchen (sunny because Angel wasn't in there), she saw yet more flowers and notes scattered in various places. She followed the path Angel had set with the flowers and read the notes, savoring his words.

I love you because of how you're always so compassionate when something is important to you...that will make you a wonderful mother.//

I love you because of how you're always so perfectly forgiving of me, when I have done something that I cannot forgive myself for. You never question my faults.//

I love you because of the way your laugh can fill up a room with warm and happiness.//

I love you because of the way you can make powerful fighting look almost like a graceful ballet.//

I love you because of how you can sense me when I walk into a room...there has never been anyone as deeply connected to me...and I can feel you just as equally in my very soul./

Now the trailing path of notes and roses were leading her into the small room that they loved to eat and spend time in during the day, because there were no windows. She walked down the hallway towards the room, and saw one rose. She read the attached note.

I love you because of the way you accept me, no matter what I am./

She turned the corner, and saw another. Now she was at the closed door of the room. She plucked the note and the rose from the doorhandle and read.

Buffy, I love you because of the frightening and wonderful way I recognized your soul, before I even met you. I love you because of how we have gone through so much together and your love has never wavered, even when we were apart. I love you for many reasons, and if I have my way, I will love you better in death.

But mostly...I love you just because./

Then the door opened, and Buffy gasped happily. There was Angel, with what seemed like dozens of roses, in his arms and on the table. Candles were everywhere. On a tray sat her favourite breakfast foods and a tall glass of orange juice Buffy knew he had squeezed himself.

Her eyes teared up and she gazed at him tenderly, not finding the words.

Finally, she managed to say, "A dozen notes and a dozen roses." She held up the items in her arms.

"A dozen notes, yes," he agreed, "but a hundred roses for every lifetime I have spent with you."

Simultaneously, they walked towards each other, and met in a kiss that was passion laced with affection. It ended in a hug.

He whispered many loving things into her ear while they embraced, and among them was 'happy birthday.'

She held him, letting his words wash over her, remembering all the beautiful things he had written her in the notes. Her tears flowed, and he wiped them away with tender touches of his hand. He murmured that he loved her.

And then she realized...Angel had never had to prove his love to her after all. Buffy should have never questioned it. Buffy knew. Buffy always would know, in her heart.

The End

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