Spike was past caring about possible witnesses as he carried a dozing Slayer up the walk to her front door. Who cared about other vamps when it felt so right having her slight weight in his arms, her small form pressed against his chest and her warm breath tickling his neck? He managed to unlock the door and carry her inside without waking her.

Pausing at the foot of the stairs, he debated whether or not to wake her or to carry her up to her bedroom. One look at the sleeping beauty in his arms gave him his answer.

As he made his way up the stairs he realized that he’d never been on the second floor of the Summers household. Now if only he could find her bedroom... Ah, of course--the one with the New Kids on the Block posters. He grimaced at the five smiling faces that looked down at him as he entered the room. Why anyone in their right mind would ever voluntarily listen to that kind of crap was beyond him. Stupid poofters--probably busy buggerin’ each other in the dressing rooms between sets...

Gently setting the sleeping girl on her bed, Spike reached over and pulled the comforter over her. He stood up, rocking on the balls of his feet. Never good at fighting temptation--nothing ventured, nothing gained had always been his motto--he reached down and placed a soft kiss on Buffy’s cheek. “’Night, Slayer.”

The hand that caught his arm nearly made him jump out of his skin. “Spike? Wait...”

Buffy had been swaying between sleep and wakefulness ever since the car had stopped in her driveway. She’d expected Spike to wake her up so she could walk to the house, but the unusually protective and caring vampire was still present, taking her in his arms instead.

Those strong arms--why hadn’t she ever noticed that he was so well built? Add his solid chest to the mix, and she found herself wanting to be held by him for an eternity--and then some. So she’d worked at keeping her breathing slow and deep, keeping up the appearance of sleep. Nuzzled against him, taking in his scent of leather, cigarettes and everything else that was Spike. A moan of disappointment almost squeaked out when she’d been deposited in her bed. He had promised her that they’d talk and she was going to hold him to that. What better time than now, when they were both still under the spell of actually being nice to each other?

So she hadn’t been asleep--naughty Slayer. Playing him so she could... what? So she could stay in his arms like in those poncey fairy tales? Not bloody likely--more likely that she was too tired to walk on her own and didn’t want to impose. Easier to feign unconsciousness. His blue eyes were captured by her hazel ones, unable to look elsewhere--even if he’d tried.

Buffy smiled nervously, almost too coy to go ahead with her plan. What if he wanted to let her down--he’d only kissed her cheek, after all. What if he really didn’t think of her like that, but more in a friendship capacity? What if... What if, what if, what if. If you don’t go ahead with this, all you’ll be stuck with will be a bunch of what ifs. “You promised me a talk, remember?” She eased the pressure of her hold on the vampire’s sleeve, but didn’t let go altogether.

Spike’s brow furrowed. Talk? Huh? Oh, that talk... The ‘we almost kissed’ talk. “Are you sure you’re up to this, pet? Why don’t we wait till tomorrow, when you don’t need your sleep so much...”

Oh, no you don’t! “Spike, the doctor said bed rest. I’m in bed, and I’m resting. As far as I’m concerned I’m heeding his advice. Talking won’t hurt me--and it won’t hurt you.” She let go of his sleeve and padded the bed beside her. “Now sit.”

The blonde vamp chuckled. “Well, looks like there’s no arguing with you, eh, Slayer? Fine--I’ll sit, we’ll talk--but if you look like you’re in desperate need of forty winks, this is over and you’re going to sleep. Hear?” He removed his duster and placed it on a chair before sitting down on the bed beside the Slayer. Half his concentration would go to their discussion, half to push away the thought that both he and she were in her bed, at the same time...

Buffy pulled herself up into a sitting position against the bed’s headboard, letting Spike fuss over placing pillows around her. Geez, you’d think I was dying or something... “Ok, ok--that’s enough. I’m drowning in pillows...” Although--not that she’d admit it out loud--she was much comfier with the extra pillows.

Awkwardly taking his cool hand in hers, she forced herself to make eye contact with the vampire. No use having one of these talks if they didn’t at least look at each other. “I’m not usually word girl, so let me muddle through this.” Buffy pursed her lips, trying to find the right way to voice her feelings. “Things have changed between us--for the better--since you accepted to help me, help us, rather. What you did for me tonight, it let me see you in a new light.”

“Really, pet--it was nothing...” Spike’s interruption was cut short by a well-manicured finger pressed against his lips. Oh, to take that finger in his mouth and taste it... He bit back a moan, squirming in place in order to readjust his physical reaction to her touch.

“Shush! Just let me get this out, then you can have your say, ok?” When he nodded silently, a strange look on his face, Buffy pressed ahead. “You treated me as well as Mom or any of my friends would have, if they’d been in your place. Even more so, I think--I doubt Mom would have molly-coddled me anywhere near as much... Anyway, I’m getting off track here. What I mean is that before you agreed to patrol, we were nothing but bitter enemies. You hated me and I hated you, and that was it. Vampire and Slayer, end of story. And after the bronze, we’ve been able to tolerate each other, but now...”

The young woman was temporarily distracted by the look in Spike’s eyes--the one she’d noticed before resuming her speech. Her breath hitched when she finally recognized the naked longing in his gaze. It was a look that hadn’t been directed at her since that first year with Angel. But Spike’s eyes didn’t hide anything--she could actually see the affection, the worry, the need... “But now I don’t see you as a monster, a dead thing, anymore. I don’t just see someone who’s killed--probably babies and children and pregnant women.” The flash of pain in his eyes confirmed her thoughts in the hospital. “I see someone who’s changing, who’s working on becoming a better person. Spike, you didn’t need to be cursed with a soul--I think you’ve got something inside of you already, a spark maybe--I don’t know. And it’s letting me see a Spike that I like--I really like--to be around.” Please read between the lines, please.

The Slayer’s admission hit Spike hard. She liked him, and she must have an idea that he liked her too or else she wouldn’t be telling him this. He wanted to pick her up in his arms, to surround her body with his, to open the window and yell to the world that... Wait. Scratch that last one--too poncey for a master vampire, that--yelling out of windows and such Williamish nonsense.

She lay there staring at him, obviously awaiting an answer of sorts. Worry was apparent in her eyes--was she afraid that he’d laugh at her? Shoot her down with stinging words and a sharp tongue? Maybe at one time, he would have done that to her. But not now. He took both of her hands in his, kissing them both before pulling her towards him into an embrace. Hugging her as tightly as he felt comfortable, he let out a sigh of relief that mimicked her own. Nose buried in her golden hair, he finally admitted it out loud. “Oh God, Slayer--Buffy, I don’t think I’m falling for you. I know I have. As hard as any man ever could. You’re such a wonderful woman, so strong, so beautiful...”

The young woman pulled back, wonder in her eyes. “You... you think I’m beautiful?”

Spike looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “Of course I do!” He ran a finger down her cheek and along the column of her neck. “Even when I hated you, when I wanted to kill you, I thought you were beautiful.” A wry smile on his lips, he added: “Not that I ever would have admitted it.” That last sentence got a giggle out of the Slayer, and both blondes were noticeably more at ease with these revelations.

“Stay with me tonight?” Buffy didn’t know where the question had come from. It was almost as if her mouth had opened of its own accord, although the thought had been at the back of her mind.

“Luv--I don’t think we should, not after...” Oh, how he wanted to. He wanted her so badly--it was like a raw ache. He needed to be close to her, to have her scent cover him, to feel her warm body pressed against his. But now was certainly not the time for that--he’d stake himself if he’d hurt her...

The Slayer blushed at his interpretation of her request. He thought she wanted to... oh! Not that that would be bad, not in the least... Just not tonight, though. “I know we can’t do that tonight. I just want you to hold me.” A bit of blackmail never hurt, either. “I’ll sleep much better with you here.”

“Alright, luv.” Yeah, twist my arm... Spike stood up, removed his boots and socks, and began to unbutton his shirt. He stopped suddenly, looking a bit awkward. “Uh, Slayer? How do you want to do this?”

Buffy hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. She herself was still dressed in her patrolling clothes. How were they going to do this? “Well, first of all, can you pass me the pyjamas that are on the chair, there?”

Spike tossed them to her and turned around to give her some privacy. It also allowed him to hide his smile from her--who knew that the Slayer wore pyjamas with monkeys on them? It was just another layer of Buffy that he was discovering. At her indication that she was decent, he turned back around to face her. Now the dilemma--what about him?

It felt awkward asking him this, but she had to ask: “Uh--do you wear boxers or briefs?”

Buffy so hadn’t been ready for his answer of ’neither’. Her face took on a bright red hue and her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. She squeaked out an “oh” before turning her attention to a very, very interesting flower on her bedspread. Hey, that’s a posy--never noticed that before...

Chuckling, the bleached vamp removed his shirt, and the T-shirt that was underneath. “Don’t worry, pet--I’ll leave the jeans on.” He moved to the bed, sliding under the covers, spooning Buffy’s body into his. “Now give in to sleep, love.” He pressed the flat of his hand against her abdomen and kissed the back of her neck. “You and the bit both need it.”

As she faded from consciousness, the last thoughts on Buffy’s mind were how good Spike’s body felt pressed against her, and easy it would be to fall asleep in his arms every night.

“Oh, this so hits the spot. I don’t remember ever being this hungry...” Buffy bit into her burger, moaning with delight.

Shaking her head, Willow couldn’t help but tease her friend. “Uh, what about last night? When you ate three very large pieces of lasagna?”

The young blonde narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Ha ha, Willow. So I’ve been eating a lot. This is the only time in my life that I’ve pretty much got a ‘get out of jail free’ card when it comes to food.” She looked around the food court and nodded towards one of the venues. “Could have been worse--I could have grabbed one of the combos at that Chinese food place. Betcha there’s a lot more fat and calories in one of those plates than there is in my burger.”

“And fries. And it’s a Big Bacon burger, Buffy--probably Wendy’s fattiest burger.” Her face scrunched as she tried to make out the menu from where they were seated. “Well, aside from the double burger. Uh, or the triple. Ok, maybe you’re right--you could be doing much worse.” Leaning over, conspiratorial grin on her face, she giggled. “Feels good, though, doesn’t it? You eating anything you want while I’m stuck here eating my ‘Spicy chicken hold the mayo’...”

Buffy nodded, but her smile quickly disappeared. “Willow, how am I going to manage? You saw the prices on all the baby stuff--I can’t afford any of it! I mean, even if I get the cheapest stuff out there, it’s still going to be astronomically expensive.” She began to count on her fingers. “Crib, change table, stroller, car seat, high chair... and what about the sheets and stuff for the crib? 150$!! My best sheets didn’t even cost that much!”

Her voice reached a high pitch. “I can see it now--I’ll have to find a nice big cardboard box and have the baby sleep in that, and I’ll line the bottom with some of my old sweaters...”

“Buffy!” Willow couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Didn’t her best friend remember the network of caring people who surrounded her? “What about your mom, or Giles, or even us--your friends? I’m sure that if we all pool in together to help you, you’ll manage just fine.”

It was as if the redhead hadn’t said a word. “Or maybe I’ll just have to pull a Spike and go to the dump. People throw cribs out, right?”

Willow realized that this topic wasn’t going to change. No matter what assurances she laid out, Buffy would either dismiss them or choose to ignore what was being said. At the mention of Spike’s name, the redhead decided to steer the conversation away from expenses.

“Speaking of Spike--what’s up between you two, anyway?” There. That should do it. She’d been trying to broach the subject for a couple of weeks, but never found the courage to bring the vampire up.

Buffy’s head snapped up as if she’d been hit. “Huh? Up? With Spike? Nothing’s up, nothing at all. There is nothing up with Spike. And me. There is nothing but a big... nothing.” She cringed at her denial, which sounded lame even to herself. By the mischievous look on her friend’s face, she knew that nothing but the truth would suffice.

“Come on, Buffy, you’re denying this way too obstinately. You guys have been acting differently for a good while now. First at the bronze, when we came back to find you two chatting it up like long lost friends, then after the hospital. Especially since the hospital--it’s like you guys are like... soulmates or something.” The redhead frowned at her statement. “Except that Spike doesn’t have a soul, although Tara is convinced that there is something special about him...”

Sighing, Buffy got ready to face the inevitable. Taking a long sip of her lemonade, she began to talk. “Ok, Wills--there is something. But before I say anything I want you to promise that you won’t wig out, and that you won’t tell anyone else.”

Willow nodded soberly, although she already knew that she’d be spilling every sordid detail to Tara. But she knew that Buffy had meant Giles, or Xander--and especially Anya.

“It started at the bronze--that night where you invited him to come sit with us. After you guys left to go dancing, we had words. I have to admit, he put me in my place--and rightly so.”

“Oh, Buffy--don’t say that!” The redhead reached across the table and put her hand over Buffy’s.

“But I needed it, Wills. Ever since I’d been ‘chosen’, I was taught that the world was black and white--demons bad, humans good--and even the Riley incident didn’t shake that belief. It took Spike’s brutal honesty to infuse a bit of reality--a bit of grey--in my world. He taunted me with Riley and I fought back, throwing my age-old line of him being evil, blah blah blah. Now that pissed him off. He reminded me of how he’d stuck by Dru, no matter what. Willow--you saw how loony she was. But he stuck by her for over a century, through thick and thin.” She let out a hoarse laugh. “And then there’s Riley, normal human, all-round good guy, who tucks tail and runs at the first sign of a challenge.”

The blonde looked down at her napkin, which she’d torn to shreds. Picking up the pieces and dropping them in her empty french fry container, she sighed. “Spike made me realize that everything is balanced. There’s often some good in evil, and some evil in good. It was a bit of an eye opener, but it was long overdue.”

Patting her friend’s hand, Willow spoke up. “Well, you were hard on Spike, even after he agreed to help you...” She pulled her hand back to finish the few tepid fries that remained in her own container. “But you haven’t gotten to any kissage yet... What about the hospital?”

Buffy smiled and shook her head. Just like old times--God how she’d missed this. “You’re going to be muy disappointed, Willow, because there isn’t any kissage. It just hasn’t happened yet.” Unfortunately, she thought inwardly. Her thoughts turned to the vampire’s soft, full lips and how they’d feel on hers. Flushing, she hid behind her drink.

“Everyone knows that it was Spike who took me to the hospital that night. What no one knows, though, is that he never left my side--not once--the whole time. He was like supporto-man, holding my hand, talking to me--I would never have gotten through it without him, Willow. I know that I’m the Slayer and everyone thinks that I’m the strongest person around, but Spike knew that night that I’m also just a regular young woman who, every now and then, needs someone else to be strong for her.”

The Slayer’s admission sent a pang of guilt through the young witch. “Oh, Buffy, I’m sorry. I mean, we never thought... You’re always the one we look up to...”

Shaking her head, the young blonde put a stop to her friend’s apology. “It’s ok, Wills. I appreciate you guys more than you can imagine. You’ve all been my safety net, ever since I came to Sunnydale. So don’t feel bad, please.”

“Anyway, Spike kept my mind off my problems--he talked to me, and he asked a lot of questions about what was going on. Imagine how weird it must be for him to be standing in an ultrasound room looking at the image of a foetus--last time he had anything to do with doctors was over a hundred years ago. He was so worried, so good to me that I think everyone thought that he was the baby’s father. After the doctors gave me a clean bill of health he took me home and simply held me while I slept. He didn’t ask for anything more than that--he seemed just as happy to hold me as I was by being held.”

Ok, Willow thought, so Tara’s reading of Spike wasn’t so far off. He may not have had a soul, but he had something more to him. Choice, for one--he chose to help them instead of hindering them, he chose to be there for Buffy instead of taking advantage of an injured Slayer. Which led to the fact that he seemed to have more control over his demon than any other vampire she’d ever met. Especially more than Angel, since he didn’t have a conscience/soul thrust upon him. So was he a dichotomy--William and the demon, separate in the same vessel, or was he simply ‘Spike’, both entities mixed into one? The redhead sighed. Looks like I’m not getting any sleep tonight.

But, for now, on to better things. “I don’t mean to sound like a broken record, but no kissage, not even a little?”

“Well, he did kiss me on the cheek when we were in the ultrasound room...” Buffy blushed at the memory. It was so weird--here she was, pregnant, yet she was blushing at the memory of a chaste kiss.

“Wait--was it a brotherly kiss on the cheek, or more than that?” It had been quite a while since the two girls had talked boys, but they both fell back into it easily.

The blonde’s eyes glazed over. “It was... You know when it’s almost as if it’s happening in slow motion, and you don’t want to close your eyes just in case you miss something? Like the look in his eyes, or how sexy it is when he licks his lips just before he kisses you?”

Willow nodded dumbly, knowing full well what she meant. Of course, these days she was substituting ‘he’ with ‘she’, but the feelings were still the same...

“And then your heart starts to beat so fast you think it’s going to burst right out of your chest and your hands get all clammy, and your body shakes in anticipation for just that kiss? Except that his lips don’t go on yours, they just brush past them and settle on your cheek but in some really weird way, that’s almost as good?”

The Slayer sighed again and slumped back in her uncomfortable food court chair. “That’s what it was, Willow. It wasn’t even on the lips but it was still so close. I could feel his breath on my skin, and I could smell cigarette and leather and whatever else that he smells like. And I must be such a sick person to feel like this because of a vampire--again--right?” Please say no, please say no...

Willow needed a moment to catch her breath. This was so beyond any boy talks they’d had when they were sixteen. So much hotter than the ‘I think he likes me--do you think he’ll kiss me?’ that Angel had brought about. “Oh, Buffy, it’s not wrong. So he’s a vampire. You yourself admitted that he’s loyal, he’s obviously head over heels about you, and--not to open any wounds--Riley proved that normal boys don’t necessarily make you happier. Go ahead with it--take a chance. Life is whatever you make of it--you want to hold back, wonder what would or could have been, then that’s your prerogative. But I think it’s more fun to follow your heart, to do what it thinks is right. You’ll be happier, you know...”

Buffy knew that somehow this little speech was no longer only about her and Spike. “You mean like with Tara?”

The witch’s eyes snapped up to her friend’s. She hadn’t told anyone about just how friendly she and Tara were, yet. So how did Buffy know? “How... how do you know about us?”

The Slayer couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s babbling. Obviously she’d worked hard at hiding it because she was afraid of what the others would think. “Don’t worry, Wills. None of the others know. Spike mentioned it one night over cocoa and it made sense to me all of a sudden.” She looked sheepish before continuing. “I have to admit I was a bit wigged at first, but Spike reminded me that we don’t always choose who we fall for. And you’ve been happier these past few weeks than in a long, long time. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Both girls became a little teary at the show of affection; this simple fast food meal having strengthened their friendship like nothing else.

Willow sniffled and began to gather all her garbage on her tray. “Well, if you’re done, why don’t we get going? Maybe we can buy the baby a little outfit or something, you know--to make you feel better.”

They both grabbed their trays and headed out of the food court.

“Maybe I can get a job--nothing too hard, just a way to make a bit of money. I’m sure there’s something out there that I can do until the baby’s born.”

Willow slipped her arm through Buffy’s as they entered Baby Gap. “I know a girl who worked at Sunnydale U last summer grading papers. Mind-numbing, but the hours were good and the pay was ok. I can ask her about it if you want...”

“Argh! This is so stupid! I haven’t even gained a pound and nothing fits anymore...” Buffy was poring through her closet in search of something decent to wear to a job interview that coming Monday. Willow’s friend had proved to be a valuable source, even going so far as arranging a meeting between her former employer--the head of the Psychology department--and Buffy. But as the day approached--she only had three days to go--her nerves were beginning to get the best of her.

Joyce Summers sat on her daughter’s bed, a paragon of patience. “Honey, it’s not that you haven’t gained any weight, it’s just that what you have is being redistributed to other places. Remember how you mentioned that your rings and bracelets seemed looser? You’re almost nineteen weeks pregnant, Buffy. It’s only natural that your pants don’t fit--your tummy’s beginning to fill out and your hips are getting wider. Just consider yourself lucky that you escaped the Grant curse--it happened to your Grandma, to your aunt Susan and to me: our breasts doubled in size within the first three months.” She added, mumbling to herself, “not that your father minded...”

“Mom! Ugh--I don’t need to know about that between you and dad. That’s just ooky...” The Slayer looked up from the latest pile of clothing. “But you do have a point there, mom. I’m so not looking forward to the Pamela Anderson look.”

The young woman refocused on her search, leaving a trail of discarded shirts and pants. Maybe if she’d adopted the homeboy look, her pants would still fit. She shuddered at the image of herself in four-times too big pants and a cap on sideways. Ugh, maybe not...

The two women jumped at the sound of the kitchen door opening. Their gazes fell on Buffy’s alarm clock at the same time. It read 11:19pm. The same name came out of both their mouths at once: “Spike”.

Stretching her legs, Joyce managed to heave herself off of the bed. “Keep looking, honey. I’ll go start the cocoa.”

With that, Buffy was left to her own devices. A few minutes passed before her patience began to wane. “Ok, clothes. It’s me versus you. I’ve defeated Fyarl demons, Chrysalis demons and really smelly vampires. I’ll find something to wear even if it kills me.” A tingling at the back of her neck informed her that she was no longer alone. “Come in, Spike. I know you’re there.”

Damn that Slayer sense of hers. Chuckling, the vampire found a spot on the bed which was free of any clothing. “You usually hold discourse with your clothes, Slayer, or is this a pregnancy thing?”

“Shut up, bleached wonder. I’m not in a mood to put up with your crap tonight.” The young woman pulled a skirt off its hanger, stared at it for a moment and shut the closet door. Maybe *this* one will fit... Through the door, she heard the vampire’s voice.

“No need to get huffy. Your mum told me about your earth-shattering dilemma, pet.”

The closet door slammed open and a flushed and frustrated Slayer appeared. “Again, Spike--shut up. If you’re only here to bust my ass you might as well go downstairs and keep mom entertained.” Pouting, she threw the skirt over the bleached blonde’s head. “I have a job interview on Monday and I’d like to show up in something other than jogging pants.”

The vampire’s response, “Don’t know, pet--bet you’re right sexy in jogging pants”, earned him a glare. Maybe not the right thing to say just then...

“Seriously, though--what am I going to do? I need to make some money to buy stuff for the baby.” Her arms dropped to her side before she gave up. “This is useless. None of my nice clothes fit anymore and I really can’t afford to buy any new ones.” Looking up to her new friend, she asked in a quiet voice “what am I gonna do, Spike?”

The master vampire couldn’t handle seeing her pout or the crestfallen expression on her face. He spread his arms in invitation. “C’mere, luv.”

Buffy couldn’t help but do what he’d asked. As far as the Slayer’s stressful days went, this one wouldn’t even make it onto the stress-o-meter; but for Buffy-the-girl, it had been one shitty day. She made her way over to the vampire, who took her in his arms and sat her on his lap like a child, cradling her against his solid chest. Any other day, she would have told him to piss off, but for some reason Spike’s arms were a much-needed haven for her at that moment.

“You doing anything tomorrow, luv?”

The young woman pulled away and stared at him, eyes narrowing. Now what was he up to? “No... why?”

The vampire picked her up and set her on her feet before getting up off the bed. “Good. I’ll pick you up at five.” He placed a soft kiss on her brow before walking to the hallway.

Snuh? “Whoa--hold on! Why will you be here at five tomorrow?” What kind of weird plans were going through his mind, and why did they involve her?

Spike let out a sigh. When would she just trust him? “Look, pet. I want to take you to LA to find you some clothes. ‘S nothing more than that.”

Buffy’s eyes grew large. “Shopping in LA? Are you insane? When was the last time you actually paid for clothes out there? I can’t afford to shop there!”

“That’s cause you’re not shopping in the right stores, love.”

“Have you been drinking bad blood or something? There’s no way you’re dragging me to some demon stores, no matter how desp...” The vampire’s hand on her mouth shut out any further sounds from escaping.

Spike managed to speak, although the feel of her warm breath on his palm was driving him to distraction. “You could afford the demon shops even less than the human ones, luv. And that’s not what I’m suggestin’. I’m talking second hand stores. Now, I don’t mean the dingy ones you have out here in Sunnyhell, I’m talkin’ about the ones where the rich folks’ clothes go. Imagine buying Holt Renfrew or Chanel for ten or fifteen dollars...”

Buffy ripped his hand from her mouth. “Really? You’re not teasing me, are you?” She turned to look at her wardrobe--a small infusion of high fashion wouldn’t do it any harm, even if she could only wear it for 5 months. “Ok, Spike. It’s a deal, but only on one condition.”

“What’s that, pet?”

“We have to stop at Gerry’s for some ice cream. I’ve been dying for their moose tracks for ages now...”

***

Ok, so maybe Spike hadn’t been exaggerating after all...

Buffy held up a pair of flared maternity jeans. Who knew that maternity clothes could be this nice? The size was right--she’d read that she should stick to the same size she usually wore--but they didn’t look like they’d fit when she’d be that much bigger.

She stood there eyeing them suspiciously, until another woman walked up to her.

“Not sure if you like them?”

Buffy turned to the woman and showed her the pants. “Actually, I love them. It just seems like they won’t be big enough to last me through my pregnancy.”

The lady took the clothing from the Slayer and showed her an elastic at the waist. “See this elastic? It’s adjustable--you make it as tight as you need at first, and then you give it some slack as your belly grows. You’ll notice a lot of different kind of pants out there--some will have the elastics, like this one, some will have zippers or buttons at the sides and some will just have panels at the front.” Seeing the young woman’s look of confusion, she returned the pants and patted her on the back. “Don’t worry, honey. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“Thanks.” Buffy took the pants and looked at them once again. The elastic did make sense, in some demented sort of way. Returning her attention to the stack of clothing she had in her cart, she tossed the pants onto it. She already had two blouses, three shirts, a couple of skirts and the jeans. Now that she understood the mechanics of maternity pants, she set her sights on acquiring a few more pairs. Hey, they were all dirt cheap and in amazing condition--how could she not help herself to a cartload of clothing?

“Find anything, luv?” Spike’s eyebrow shot up when he saw the amount of clothing that Buffy had pulled off the racks. Holding up the jeans, he muttered “guess so...”

The Slayer turned to the vampire and saw that he was holding an armload of black clothing. “So this is where you get your endless supply of ‘Big Bad’ wardrobe, huh? I figured you just stole them at the mall or something.”

The bleached blonde faked a hurt expression. “Haven’t nicked anything in a good while, pet. Told you I was behavin’. Anyway, at the price I get stuff here it’s damned near stealing. Lot less trouble than avoiding the cameras and security guards, too.”

Buffy smiled, shaking her head. “That’s good to know--hard to believe, but good to know.” She looked around the store, still amazed at the goods it held. “You know, I think I’m gonna take up shopping here after the baby’s born...”

The announcement that came on the overhead speakers, announcing the store’s closing in fifteen minutes, got Buffy moving. “I guess that’s good enough for today. You got everything you wanted?”

“Yeah, I did. I’m just wonderin’ if you’re done--I mean, there are a couple of pieces of clothing still left on the rack...” Spike barely avoided the Slayer’s playful slap before commandeering her shopping cart. “C’mon pet--let’s get you back home before your mom thinks we’ve eloped.”

They didn’t get very far before Buffy began to tug on the vampire’s coat sleeve. “Ooh! Look! Turn down here for a sec--I just want to look at something.” Before he knew what was happening, he saw her staring at the baby furniture.

“Spike--look at this crib. Isn’t it beautiful? I mean, a little Goo-Gone and I could get the stickers off of it. But it’s just as nice as the ones Willow and I were looking at at the mall a few weeks ago, and it’s only $50...” Her hand caressed the crib’s side rail as she walked around it. “Aside from the stickers, it’s almost new--it doesn’t have any bumps or nicks, and” she rattled the bed’s frame “it’s still as solid as the new ones.”

She hadn’t heard any noise from the vampire--no snide comments about how close they’d been to the checkout, so she turned around to see if he’d actually followed her. Her eyes fell upon him as he was inspecting a stroller. Of all the weird things she’d seen in her short lifetime--and man, had she seen some weird shit--the sight of Spike, William the Bloody, poking and prodding a baby stroller topped them all. Coming up quietly behind him, she tapped him on the shoulder. “Wanna go for a ride? Maybe like a test drive?” She snickered at her joke, finding it quite funny, but was surprised by the vampire’s curt snarl.

“Come on--place is almost closing.” He couldn’t put words to how all this made him feel. Up to this moment, Spike had shared everyone’s eagerness in the baby’s coming. But as he looked the stroller over--especially the sun guard--he realized that this whole situation was far beyond anything he could handle. Not because of Buffy and their burgeoning relationship, not because of how much a baby cost--either in emotional or financial costs--but because of everything that he wouldn’t be able to do.

He’d never be able to take the baby out for a mid-day stroll--he’d have to find a way to hide under the blasted sun guard with the baby--never be able to go to the park, or the beach, or do anything that normal fathers did. And the realization of this hit him hard. How could he have been so stupid, so blind, as to ignore this? Vampires didn’t play daddy--they killed kids. Ate them. Not rock them to sleep, or help them with their revision.

He knew it was unfair to take this out on the Slayer--after all, it wasn’t her fault. None of it was, but he couldn’t help but be in a pissy mood afterwards. Better to bottle it in than to create a scene in a store, anyway, no?

Buffy didn’t know what had come over Spike. One minute he was teasing her, whistling as he pushed the cart, the next he was pretty much biting her head off. She went over everything she’d said, but couldn’t find anything that could have offended him. She promised to bring it up later--anywhere but in the store--but for now, she’d let him brood. Only for now, though...

***

They’d been driving for fifteen minutes and still Spike hadn’t said a word. He’d still opened the car door for her--guess manners don’t take a break, no matter what kind of mood he’s in--but not a sound had come out of his mouth. Buffy was at her wit’s end, trying to figure out what had gotten to him. Well, she thought to herself, there’s no better way of knowing what’s going through that thick skull of his than to ask point-blank...

“Can you pull over, please?”

The Slayer’s voice surprised him for a moment. The silence in the car had almost fooled him into thinking that he was alone. “What?”

“Pull. Over.” Maybe if she used small one-word sentences he’d understand better.

Spike did as she asked, but kept his gaze ahead of them. He had a funny feeling that she was going to want to have ‘a talk’.

“Thanks. Now spill.” Before he had time to play stupid, she continued. “And don’t ‘what do you mean, spill?’ me. Something’s been bugging you ever since we were in the store and you need to get it off your chest.” When he turned to look at her, clear blue eyes resigned to give in, she couldn’t help but take his hand in hers. “You know you can tell me anything, Spike. Please don’t keep this to yourself--good friends are there to listen, you know.”

The vampire sighed heavily. “Buffy, it’s nothing against you, it’s just that... When we were at the store, lookin’ at all the baby stuff, it just dawned on me how stupid this all is. And I don’t mean that you having a baby is stupid, I mean my actually getting all worked up about it is.” When he was sure she wasn’t going to interrupt, although her body language screamed that she was just chomping a the bit to do just that, he continued his explanation. “Vampires aren’t meant to take care of babies. If we were, we’d be able to go out into the sun--take the bits to the zoo or whatever activities folks do with their kids, but we’re not. I can’t do what all your Scoobies can. I can’t go out for an afternoon stroll, I can’t sit out in the backyard and look for four-leafed clovers, I can’t...”

As touched as she was by his admission, Buffy was tired of hearing ‘I can’t’s. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t... Spike, why don’t you concentrate on what you can do? You can take the baby out trick or treating, you’ll be able to go to school plays--they’re almost always held at nighttime, you can play with it inside, watch stupid tv shows with it. There’s so much that you can do--you just have to use your imagination a little.” She took his hand and placed it on the slight swell of her belly. “This baby will have so many people in its life. And every single one of them will have a different role to play. So yours won’t take place outside during the day--it doesn’t mean that you won’t be loved as much as the others.” It doesn’t mean that you aren’t loved as much... But Buffy wasn’t ready to reveal that much information so soon.

Spike didn’t know what to say. A million thoughts raced through his mind, but all were insufficient as a response to the Slayer’s calming words. Instead, he pulled her into a tight hug, pressing her warm body against his. “Thanks so much, pet.”

The quiet that followed during the remainder of the ride home was a comfortable one, where both blondes were lost deep in thought, connected only by their entwined fingers.

It had been so long since Buffy had allowed herself to have some fun. Sure, she’d gone bronzing with her friends, but even then she had to be the Slayer, always keeping an eye open for demon activities—stupid vamps were always looking for an easy meal, or rather, stupid kids were always allowing themselves to become easy meals... But tonight, she was just plain Buffy Summers, date of Spike… the 120 year-old vampire.

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t completely a normal date, but it was as close as she could ever get.

As they approached the admission booth, both blondes were assaulted by a wall of scents. Buffy’s mouth watered at the smell of all the different foods, while Spike got a rush from the fear rolling off those braving the wilder rides.

Buffy’s mind travelled back to the last time she’d been at a fair. She was only 8 years old, and had gone with her parents. Her dad had won her Mr. Gordo that night—maybe that’s one of the reasons why the stuffed pig meant so much to her. Any happy memories of her old life, the ones where her parents were together, where she wasn’t the chosen one, were cherished and held dear to her heart. She was startled out of her reverie when her date’s hand clasped around hers.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Spike had watched as Buffy’s eyes glazed over, the girl obviously lost in thought. What was she thinking about? Were horrible memories being dredged back to the forefront of her mind? Had something bad happened to her at a fair once? However, the quiet smile she was wearing eased his worries—must be some nice memory, then. Always better that way…

Buffy looked up at her companion and smiled. “Just thinking about when Dad won me Mr. Gordo.” She sighed, leaning into him intimately. “Things were so much easier back then, you know? I mean, Mom and Dad got along—or at least pretended to, I wasn’t the Slayer…” Turning to look at him, she continued. “You know, I used to be a cheerleader. I was really good at it, too. I thought I was normal, just like all the other girls.”

Spike didn’t know what to say to that. He’d always known her as the Slayer, but he should have guessed that at one time, she may simply have been ‘Buffy the girl’. He just squeezed her hand and pulled her in closer to him, kissing her on the top of her head. Sometimes words weren’t necessary to convey sympathy.

It was so nice to have someone to talk to, someone who would understand—not just out of empathy, but out of really knowing what it was like. Buffy truly appreciated Spike’s quiet listening skills—who would’ve thought that the hyper-energetic vampire would be a good listener? “Thanks Spike. It’s nice to be able to share this with someone who’s been through it, in a sense.”

“It’s no problem, luv, really.” Spike stopped mid march and looked around. “So, what do you want to do first?”

***

“Ugh. I think I’m gonna be sick.” Buffy sat down on a bench and groaned, hand over her stomach.

Spike pulled his duster in and sat down, after checking for wads of gum. Never can be too sure, in these kinds of places. “Well, eating cotton candy, caramel popcorn, beer nuts and a hot dog will do that to you, I suppose.”

Snickering, the Slayer stretched out. “Guess it’s good we hopped on the rides beforehand, then.”

Echoing his date’s laugh, the vampire couldn’t help but agree. “Don‘t know--it might have rated high on the entertainment factor. Especially when we went on ferris wheel.” He got a twinkle in his eye as he continued. “Would have had tons of targets then, luv.”

Buffy’s nose crinkled. “Eww! But it would have been funny, huh?”

Both blondes shared a chuckle at the expense of potential victims. They sat on the bench in a comfortable silence, watching the other fair-goers go to and fro. Buffy’s attention was captured by a couple with two young children. The kids had had their faces painted—one like a clown, the other like a cat—and were running in circles, flying plastic airplanes around their parents. Sighing, she leaned in closer to Spike, worming her way under his arm.

Gauging the Slayer’s reaction, Spike was sure that they’d been watching the same family. Kids had always annoyed him, even before he was turned. Boisterous, loud, always asking embarrassing or unanswerable questions. How the hell was he supposed to know why the sky was blue, or why some flowers were yellow while others were white? But now, with the nibblet on the way, his attitude was slowly changing. Babies weren’t little crying bundles of piss—they were amazing little miracles, taking everything in like little sponges. And kids weren’t so irritating anymore—he realized, despite himself, that he was more like one than he’d ever wanted to admit. Or so he’d been told more than once by pretty much everyone he knew.

“You thinking ‘bout the bit, luv?”

“Yeah. It’s just so weird that this little bump—well, not so little anymore—is going to turn out to be like those two kids. I’m gonna have to start to think about kissing scraped knees, carrying quarters in my wallet for those rides at the mall, sewing patches on the knees of his or her jeans. I’m eager for it, but scared out of my wits at the same time, you know? I mean, what if I’m not up to it? What if I forget the kid in the carseat like you read in the papers, or what if I feed it something that I shouldn’t, or…”

Spike placed a finger on her mouth, interrupting her rant. “Buffy, you’re going to make a great mum. The fact that you’re worried about all this stuff—needlessly, really—is a good indication that you’re gonna do the right thing. You have lots of people to help you—some folks don’t even have that. I believe in you, and so should you.”

Buffy gazed at the vampire without saying a word and just slowly shook her head. Bringing a hand up to trace one of his sharp cheekbones, she asked him. “Has this Spike always been in there? Drusilla was such a dumbass for ever leaving you…” Before he had time to sulk, or to reminisce about lost loves, Buffy pulled him in for a searing kiss. She’d show him that he was missing nothing.

Spike was the first to pull away, giving the Slayer a chance to catch her breath. He rested his forehead against hers, trying to slow his breathing. His hands made their way to her face, gently placing loose wisps of hair back behind her ears. Unable to resist the feel of her warm skin, he kept his fingers in contact with her face, carefully tracing its outline. “God, Slayer—the things you do to me…”

A wicked look came upon Buffy’s face and she found herself speaking before her brain had grasped what she was about to say. “But you haven’t given me the chance to do anything yet.” When the words had left her mouth her eyes grew large and a blush creeped up her cheeks. “Oh! What I mean is… uhm…” The words, however, wouldn’t come. Truth of the matter was that she’d meant what she’d said, and by the look on the vampire’s face, he knew it.

Before Spike could say a word, Buffy spoke up. “You know what? Screw it. I’m old enough to decide what I want to do, and if that means I want to go do a bit of parking with my boyfriend, well—so be it.”

The bleached blonde’s voice was only a whisper. “What… what did you say?”

Not realizing that she’d said anything revealing, the Slayer’s brow furrowed. “What? I said if I want to go parking with my boyfriend, I…” Then it dawned on her. She’d called Spike her boyfriend. Funny word to describe the 120 year-old master vampire who’d become her constant companion, her anchor, her friend. Ok, maybe not so funny after all. Well, sounds like a good description of a boyfriend to me…

Spike’s eyes betrayed him. As much as his face had lost all emotion and his stance screamed indifference, his eyes said otherwise. Buffy’s reaction to her announcement could either strengthen or dissolve the relationship that they had built up during the past couple of months.

Taking his hands in hers, she locked her hazel gaze on the vampire. “It’s not such a far cry from what we are, is it, Spike? I mean, we go on dates, we chat over hot chocolate, we’ve kissed… That’s what people who are in a normal relationship do, isn’t it?”

His shoulders dropped and he expelled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Sometimes this human body of his divulged way too much about his inner thoughts… “Don’t rightly know, luv, seeing as I’ve never been in a ‘normal’ relationship before. I mean, what Dru and I had, it wasn’t what you’d call the quintessential boyfriend/girlfriend relationship. So I don’t know what it is that we have, but I can say that whatever it is, I’d like to see where it’s leading.”

Buffy got up off the bench, tightly gripping the stuffed animal that Spike won her at the shooting gallery. Sarcastically, she thought to herself: Gee, who would’ve thought that Spike was a good shot? She held her hand out to him in invitation. “C’mon. Let’s go find somewhere where we can talk in private…” The smirk on her lips ensured that he’d get her drift—or so she hoped, at least.

***

They’d hardly made it out of the parking lot before Spike found himself forced to pull the car off the road. Buffy had been boldly staring at him while licking her lips and lightly tracing her fingers up and down his thigh, each time closer to where he needed her most. The engine wasn’t even shut off before he found himself with a very aroused Slayer on his lap.

Buffy couldn’t handle any more of this ‘taking it slow’. She wanted Spike, and she wanted him now. It had been at least three months since she’d last had sex--going solo just didn’t cut it anymore for this girl. Pressed up against his hard chest, feeling his erection pressing into her centre, she couldn’t help but go with the flow. She brought her mouth down to his for a long, hot kiss that had them both panting for more.

Spike’s brain was unable to process all that was going on. One second he’s driving, the next he’s got Buffy grinding down against him, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants. The smell of her arousal was intoxicating and it took everything in his power to push his demon back down. He tried to speak in between kisses. “Buffy, love...” “Hold on a sec...” “Please...”

It finally got through to Buffy that the object of her desire, the man who she was straddling... who she was practically raping... was asking her to stop. Embarrassed, she slid off him, mumbling apology after apology, looking at anything but him. Good going, Buffy. Your overactive hormones just pushed away Spike, of all guys!

“Buffy, please look at me.”

She turned to do as he asked, cheeks still burning.

“You know I want you so bad, but this isn’t what I ever envisioned for our first time, luv. As much as I love my DeSoto it isn’t exactly the place for romancing the woman of my dreams.” God, how he wanted her. Seeing her beside him, chest heaving with exhilaration, skin rosy from the heat of their actions, it was all he could do to stop himself from pulling her into a lying position on the seat and ploughing into her.

So he did want her, but just not here. The wheels in Buffy’s brain were turning, processing what the vampire had just told her. Was he doing this for her, or for him? Knowing him, it was most likely for her. “Spike? If I was offering, if I didn’t care in the least where our first time was--I mean, as long as I’m with you, I don‘t mind... What I’m trying to say is I haven’t had sex in over three months, and right now? I’m not really picky as to where it happens, just as long as it happens.” She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

A small cry escaped her as Spike grabbed her by the leg, pulling her into a lying position on the seat. Quicker than she’d realized what had happened, her body was covered by that of the very, very, aroused vampire.

This was it. The one moment that he hadn’t even allowed himself to think of, outside of his dreams. Of course, he’d never had any control over his dreams, but any naughty Slayer-related thoughts had resided there, and only there. Until now, it seemed. Lying on top of her, feeling her writhing beneath him, was more than his lust-addled brain could handle. The vampire pulled himself up off of Buffy and looked into the hazel depths of her eyes. “You sure about this, love? I... I might not be able to hold back if we really get started.” Of course, this wasn’t true--he’d stop in an instant if she decided to change her mind. This was more like a plea--don’t tease me if you don’t mean it.

But she did. She meant every whimper, every grind of her hips. Buffy wanted him so bad, it was hard to believe she’d held back for so long. “Yes, I want this, Spike. I want you to make love to me, and I don’t care if it’s in the front seat of your old... of your car.” Best not to insult his baby if she wanted him to continue...

“Good.” He pressed his mouth to hers, tracing the warm velvet of her lips with his tongue. She responded in kind, rubbing her own tongue against his before reaching up to nip at his lower lip. He felt her fingertips underneath his shirt, dancing along the length of his spine, slowly tracing every vertebra one by one until she reached the waistband of his jeans.

She was so grateful that she’d worn a skirt. When she’d seen the cargo-style skirt at the second-hand store, she’d fallen in love with it immediately. It was comfortable, stylish and allowed for her extra girth. Now, as the vampire’s hand slowly made its way up her thigh, she realized it had other virtues as well. Who would have thought that at 21 weeks pregnant she’d be thanking the powers that be for easy-access maternity clothing?

Her skin was so hot. Sizzling, almost--burning to the touch. Spike could hear the blood rushing through her veins and it was driving him absolutely crazy. Licking a path down the slim column of her neck, he used his teeth to undo the buttons of her blouse, while at the same time running a hand up her leg towards her panties.

Wow. If that mouth could undo a blouse, what kind of other delightful things could it do to her? Buffy’s mind was racing a mile a minute, trying all at once to concentrate on pleasuring Spike and not frying under the vampire’s ministrations. It was much easier said than done, although she was doing a pretty good job of removing his belt and working his fly open. It dawned on her, as she began to slide his pants down, that he didn’t wear any underwear.

And she thought she couldn’t get more turned on...

If Spike prayed to any deity, he would have thanked it for the front-clasp bra that the Slayer was wearing. One hand busy holding him up and the other pulling her knickers down, he had no other option but to keep using his mouth to remove her upper body clothing. Not that he was complaining in the least, especially not when her perfect breasts fell out. He darted his tongue out, teasing the hard nipple of one mound, alternating between licking it and sucking on it. He nearly bit down when he felt Buffy’s small hand finally grasp his cock, moving up and down, aided by the pre-cum that was leaking out of its tip.

Buffy wiggled under Spike’s weight, trying to shimmy out of her panties and keep a grip on his erection all at once. She still couldn’t believe just how much she wanted him. Not just because of his body, although--hello!--no complaints there, but it was equally because of the bond they’d formed over the past few months.

It was so hard, though, to concentrate on anything with the vamp lavishing attention on her body. Every suck, every nibble, every lick to her breasts shot straight to her centre. The back of her mind registered the feel of his other hand--the one that wasn‘t holding him up--at the apex of her thighs, slowly tracing the folds of her pussy, pausing a little longer at her clit to pinch and tease.

When she’d finally managed to pull one of her legs from the underwear, it was all she could do to just moan “Oh, God, Spike--please...”, thrusting her pelvis up into his, pulling his cock towards her centre.

If Spike had learned anything in over a century, it was to never deny a woman what she wanted. He sat back, taking his weight off his hands. Rolling her skirt up until it was bunched at her waist, he leaned back over her. It was all so surreal--here he was, in the front seat of the DeSoto, with the Slayer underneath him, head thrown back, bearing her neck to him, hips thrusting up. He’d stake himself for sure if he woke up before this dream was over...

Buffy had closed her eyes when she saw the vampire sit back on his haunch. More than anything, she wanted to concentrate on every sensation of their first coupling. But when nothing happened--Oh God, this isn’t another of those dreams, is it?--she ventured to open one eye to see what was going on.

She saw Spike sitting back, awe and fear in his eyes. “Spike,” she managed to whisper, “this is for real. Make love to me...” She held her arms out in invitation, relieved when the vampire didn’t hesitate for one instant.

The moment he was back on top of her, Spike positioned himself at her entrance. Locking eyes with hers, he slowly slid in, gasping at her heat. “Christ, Buffy. So goddamned hot--you’re gonna burn me, baby.”

Thrusting her hips upwards, matching his every movement, Buffy couldn’t believe how good this felt. Not that sex had never been good before, because she’d be lying if she said that. But it was different with Spike--not only did he fill her completely in a physical sense, but she also felt complete with him inside of her. Like in Plato’s Republic, which she had studied in first year Philosophy, where every person had another half that they spent their lifetime searching for. She felt like she’d found hers, and that they were finally together, finally whole.

He didn’t know how long he could last. The sensation of her centre, which clutched at him like a warm glove, sent an electric current through him. For the first time in well over a century his body remembered what it felt like to be alive. Nerves tingling, muscles flexing, the warmth of her body transferred to his; if he didn’t know any better, he’d expect to begin breathing at any moment.

She could feel the pressure building up. It had been so long, and she was so turned on by just being with Spike, that just the slow, sensual, rhythm of their coupling was enough to send Buffy over the edge. Clutching the bleached blonde’s shoulders , she let herself give in to her orgasm, let it wash over her, screaming his name as her body rode out its release.

When the Slayer’s internal muscles began to contract around his cock, tight enough to nearly pull it off, Spike was also tossed over the edge. Roaring, he tucked his head in the crook of her neck, trying his best not to thrust too far in--wouldn’t help to hurt the baby, now would it? He pushed the demon back, concentrating instead on the more human aspects of their coupling’s aftermath. How right it felt to have Buffy’s arms and legs wrapped around him, her breath tickling the sensitive skin of his neck, her centre still pulsing its orgasmic aftershocks.

“I love you.” Both blondes stiffened at their dual confession, pulling back to look in each other’s eyes. Neither had meant to say it out loud, but both were relieved to: a) have it out in the open and b) have the feeling reciprocated. They remained silent for a while, not really feeling a need to say anything more than those three words.

Finally, Spike pulled back a little, rolling to the side. The DeSoto’s seats were more than wide enough to allow him to lie on his side beside the Slayer. When he went to smooth Buffy’s skirt back down her legs, she stopped him.

“Hold on--I think I might need to clean up. I don’t really want to have to explain a huge wet spot to Mom when I get back home.” She popped open the glove box and pulled out the napkins she’d put there a few weeks back when they’d stopped for ice cream on their trip to LA. She cleaned herself up, tossing the used tissues aside. She smiled when Spike gently slid her skirt back down--modesty wasn’t something she’d expect the vampire to respect.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Spike pulled the skirt’s waist down below Buffy’s belly. Her stomach finally had that specific baby swell to it, instead of the ‘is she fat?’ belly she’d previously had. Tracing its outline and leaning down to kiss it, he looked back up at Buffy. She still hadn’t done up her blouse or bra and her nipples were still hard--more likely because it was beginning to get a little cold in the car.

“So how old’s the bit now?”

“I’m at 21 weeks--which means the baby’s about 19 weeks old.” Buffy’s love for Spike grew as she watched him examine her belly, holding his ear close up against it... Everything that Riley had rejected, this vampire seemed to embrace.

Still in deep concentration, Spike kept up the twenty questions. “How big is it, then?” Her stomach still wasn’t that big, but he knew he’d been able to pick up a heartbeat nonetheless.

“Well, according to the book I’m reading it would be about the size of a banana.” She paused, bit her lip, and decided to go ahead and ask. “Can you hear anything? I can feel it moving sometimes--kinda feels like gas, to be honest... But it always reassures me to actually hear the heartbeat when I go to the doctor.”

Pulling the skirt back up over her belly, Spike sat up, helping Buffy up as well. As he did her bra back up--not before placing one last kiss on each mound--and buttoned up her shirt, he nodded. “Yeah, I could hear the heartbeat. Wouldn’t have known what it was if I hadn’t heard it on that contraption they used at the hospital, but it’s still beating just as fast, and just as strong.” He finished pulling his own pants back up before leaning over to place a kiss on the young woman’s lips.

“I mean what I said, love. Don’t think I said it just because we had ourselves an amazing moment.”

“Me too--I really meant it, Spike. I never even said it to Riley, but with you--it’s just so obvious to me that I wanted to let you know, too.”

A small silence followed, broken by Spike’s sigh. “Well, we should get you back home. Joyce’ll think that I’ve sold you to the carnies.”

Next