Start, Part Twelve.



At the Magic Box, Giles poured over his priceless books, trying to find a prophesy for the NEXT apocalypse. "Postpone the last of days... Dark beauty... Answer for his sins..." Giles' head snapped up, and he started cleaning his glasses. Picking up the phone, he rang Buffy.

Rolling to her side, swiping at her cheeks, she picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Buffy? Hello. I need to speak to Spike."

"What is it? What's going on?"

"Nothing. It's not about this. It's about... well, Spike and I."

"There is no you and Spike, Giles." Buffy's ironic voice irked him.

"I... understand that. And I think we should remedy it. With the baby and all. So... may I speak to him please?"

"He's in the shower."

"Well get him out, Buffy. Please." His voice was sharp.

"Oooook. With the wiggin's." She walked to the bathroom, stuck her hand in the shower with the phone. Couldn't resist a slight peak at the wet and soapy Spike presenting himself to her. "Phone."

He glared at her over the shampoo he was swiping out of his eyes. "Who?"

"Giles." She took the phone, put it to her ear. "He doesn't wanna talk. Naked and soapy."

"Oh God." Buffy could hear Giles pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thank you for the picture. It should only take three years in therapy to remove it. Give him the bloody phone."

"Whoo... Angry Giles." She started to hand the phone to Spike, paused, pulled back.

"Slayer. Wet. Soapy, and the bleedin shampoo won't stay out of my eyes, not to mention I'm gonna smell like one of those orgasmic shampoo girls. Give me the phone."

"Ok... Just... Kiss me first?"

He was befuddled and naked. Was she not getting it? "What?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and shoved the phone at him. "Nevermind. Have a man chat."

She stomped back to her room, muttering darkly. He wouldn't even give her a good morning kiss. Fine. She didn't really want one anyway. Oh geez. She was such a liar. She wanted a morning kiss and didn't get one. Man, Spike sucked.

Spike stood in the shower, the water now cold, running over him as he listened to Giles speak.

"Spike. Spike? Are you still there?"

"I... I don't... I don't go to..."

"No. Chances are that when you die, a long time from now, apparently, you will not go to hell. It seems to me that they will judge you on how you live with a soul, and, apparently, how you've changed, even without one."

"Mmm.. Bu-"

"I think, Spike, that this new apocalypse is not something that will be in the form of a new Big Bad, as you all call it. I think it will be a resolution of something. Perhaps not even the battle you are imagining."

"A resolution?? Of what?"

"I'm still working on that... but... There is no evil rising. The battle may be internal."

"Like... Buffy may not have to fight?"

"Perhaps. That may be what I'm saying."

Spike swallowed hard. "If you're wrong, Rupe, and I lose her again, chip or no, you will be the first to die."

Spike swept into Buffy's bedroom, grinning madly as she pulled a soft pink sweater on.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Can I help you?" She questioned him frostily, putting on a pair of silver hoop earrings.

He rolled his eyes mentally. He should have kissed her. "Yeah. You can be quiet for two minutes. That's all I want."

"..." Crossing her arms, she arched a brow at him pointedly.

He framed her face with his hands, touched his lips to hers softly, whispered an endearment, pulled her closer, and claimed her lips, slowly nipping at her bottom lip, till her mouth parted. Kissing her thoroughly, he pulled back, perused her face. Kissed the nose he loved so much, then whispered softly in her ear, "Good morning."

She looked at him with wide eyes and said quietly, "Good morning."

He grabbed his belt off the back of a chair, and went to walk out of the room. Pausing in her doorway he purred, "Luv?"

"Uh huh?" Still slightly dazed from his gentle kiss, she focused her gaze on his face.

"Next time you come to me when I'm in the shower, you sure as hell had better not have the Watcher on the phone." With an impudent grin, he was gone.



End, Part Twelve.

Start, part Thirteen.

Ok, my lovelies, I borrowed a part from Angel-4-ever. Wanna know what part? Go read her stories. And it was w/ permission. So piss off any mean comments. You ARE free however, to read and review. Please. Btw, you g uys are great reviewers. I'm glad you like this so far. And... Excellent, mad props to Joy, who helped me through this, too. You girls rock. Thanks so much, and Joss? Can I have Spike for Easter? Pleaaaaaaaaaaaase? lol jk He own it all, yada-da.

Thanks.

Tequila Sunrise

ps~ to LizD? Yes! I SAW THAT EPISODE TONITE! I WAS SO PURRING THE WHOLE TIME GOING, "KICK ANGEL'S ASS! YEAH!" and.. "omg... he's so fine... want him, want him want him...." Ahem! anyway....



The first thing they did was go to the Magic Box to talk to Giles. He had refrained from telling her anything because... well, he loved her. He wanted her happy. And he wanted her to resolve her problems because she wanted to. Not to prevent an apocalypse. If she was being too stubborn when it came time, well then, they'd deal with it.

After Spike and Buffy arrived, Giles and Anya went to discuss a new type of 'magic weed' that she had gotten imported from Brazil.

Buffy was leafing through a book, and stopped at a passage. Reread. Grinned. Her day was looking up.

Spike wasn't feeling the same way. Doubt ran through his mind. Even with Giles' reassurance... He felt bleak.

"Buffy?"

"Hmmm?" She shot him a grin.

"When you... When you were with Angel, was he ever in game face?"

Her mood left quickly, replaced with slight melancholy. "Yeah. Our first kiss. The time we... The only time we... And when he..." She looked at her hands, now in her lap, unconsciously twisted. "Not a lot scares me. But that did."

Spike raised his eyes to hers, letting his human fade, and his demon come to the fore. He felt his eyes flash, his teeth elongate, his forehead ridge. And still, what he felt didn't change. Angelus had perverted what Angel and Buffy had. Spike's demon couldn't do that.

"Do I frighten you, luv?"

She stared at the demon visage before her. "Your intensity scares me. Your loyalty scares me. The way I feel when you hold me scares me..." She ran a finger over his ridges, his nose, and touched his mouth that was revealing his fangs. "But I don't fear you."

To prove it to him, to prove it to herself, she leaned forward, pressed her lips to his forehead, surprised that no revulsion rolled through her. She kissed him tentatively, waiting for the pain she remembered when Angel kissed her with fangs.

There was none.

When Spike pulled away, he let his demon melt away and stared at Buffy.

"Do you trust me?" She echoed the question he had posed to her so many weeks ago.

He grinned, touched the necklace she still wore. "No." In his mind he was begging, 'Ask me to.'

She took a breath. "Will you?"

"Yes."

She stood, took his hand, and led him to the training room. Sat him down on a loveseat in the corner.

"I read a book today."

He arched a brow. "Oh. Good girl. Did it have pictures?"

"Nope. But it was neat. Said... what was it? Oh, vampire's love touch. To touch, and be touched... Pain senses are... dulled quite a bit... but... Extremely sensitive to other kinds of gentle touching."

He glanced nervously up at her. Repeated to himself, "Trust, trust trust..." Like a mantra. "Yeah?"

"Mmm...hmmm..." She leaned over, looked him in the eye, and slid her hands under his duster, under the dark tee-shirt, and…

For the first time in a hundred years, he unnecessarily held his breath.

She gently scratched at his ribs. Watched his eyes close, and laughed outright as his left foot started to thump the ground.

She stopped, and his eyes slid open at the lack of contact, his foot slowly stopping.

"Oh my gosh... Spike, that was too cute. You looked like a dog having it's belly rubbed."

He grinned complacently at her when she started scratching again. After a while, his foot stopped moving, and a low growl emanated from deep in his throat. His back arched, and Buffy moved her hand to the other side of his chest, still gently scratching.

"Spike..."

A moan met her comment.

"I want to..."

"Anythin', luv, just don't stop..."

She grinned. "I want a pony."

"Ohhhh... yeah... Right... mmmm... Buffy..." His blue eyes popped open. "A pony? How in blue blazes are we gonna *feed* it?"

Buffy laughed, and tentatively snuggled to his side. Her left hand lay at his stomach. She glanced at the ring she still wore and wondered why she had never taken it off. She fingered the gorgeous ring gently.

"Spike?"

He breathed in softly. She hadn't showered this morning, so her hair no longer smelled like her shampoo, but she smelled... Like Buffy. And he was glad no one could bottle her scent, because then he'd have to go about killing every bastard who would dare let their woman smell like his.

She nudged him. Again. "Spike?"

"Yeah, luv?"

"Did you... Did you kill your family like Angel did?"

His eyes, too, fell to the ring on Buffy's finger. "No. I figured that Spike had nothing to do with William, except hurting the people that hurt William. My- his family had never done anythin' but love him."

"Will you tell me about her?"

"My mum?"

"Yeah."

"She..." He thought for a moment, conjured her face, her voice to the fore. "was graceful. We were upper middle class. But my mum... she had more grace than any lady I'd ever met. She was smart. Always baking or sewing something. Never had anythin' but a kind word for people. She wasn't a saint. She reminded me of Joyce a bit. Joyce was stronger than my mother, though. No... she wasn't a saint. But she was a good woman."

"Spike?"

He looked down on the pixie he had taken to calling his. "Yeah?"

"I love... the.. the ring. It's gorgeous, and... I think it suits us. Me. Us."

He raised her hand off his stomach, kissed the ring, looked into her eyes and said throatily, "I love it, too. Now what do we have to do today?"

"Well... " She stood, pulled him up with her. "Would you like to see your baby?"

"Oh my.. bloody pissing hell! Are you in LABOR!?"

Buffy laughed. "No... They can... The baby shows up on a monitor."

He arched a brow. "Like a telley?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah.. something like that. My appointment is in half an hour... Can you drive us?"

"Absolutely. But we'll be going slow. Let's go say g'bye to the watcher and the demon. We've got a baby to look at."

End, part Thirteen.

Start, Part 14

Sorry this has taken so long.... I was completely uninspired until faced with cleaning the whole house. lol I own nothing. Next part will prolly not be up till Firday or Monday, earliest. thanks for being such great reviewers. Angel-4-ever, Thanks for liking the one I do'nt have the guts to post.

Tequila Sunrise

Spike chased Buffy into the house, yelling after her. "I bloody well said you're NOT patrolling anymore! Don't like it, too pissing bad for YOU!"

She waited until he was safely inside, slamming the door behind them. "I am the Chosen One. Note the capital C, and O. Averted numerous apocalypses, died and been brought back TWICE. A little pregnancy.... I CAN HANDLE!"

"Yes, you can. ALIVE. WITHOUT PATROLLING."

"GET OUT OF MY FACE ABOUT IT!"

Grabbing her by her shoulders, he slammed her against the closet door. "Not when it comes to my baby, Slayer. I know you can handle it. I know you're strong. But one good kick... Three good pokes... our baby is gone. And I love you too much to let that happen. End of discussion. The Big Bad has spoken." He smirked at her. "Note the capital B's. And I'm older. I'm pullin' rank."

"Then who's gonna patrol, Spike?"

"Me an' the Poof. At least he'll be makin' himself useful. Always was a freeloadin' wanker."

Angel and Dru walked into the breezeway, Angel remarking, "Geez, Spike, I wasn't even there to defend my name. Buffy, we need to talk."

"No, you don't, you damn wanker. She needs to sleep. And you and I need to talk."

Druscilla weaved back and forth, saying in a sing-song voice, "We're going to leave... To the pretty mansion you wouldn't buy me."

Angel looked abashedly at Dru, then Buffy. "That's basically what I wanted to tell you."

"Ok, but what-"

"Great! And lovely! And bullocks! I don't give a damn where you live, but *you*, Peaches, are gonna help me patrol. Cuz Buffy isn't gonna do it anymore."

Angel nodded, in complete agreement with his childe. "Good idea. We wouldn't even let Darla out to feed when she hit her fifth month. But, Dru and I are gonna go through the tunnels to the mansion... it's getting a little crowded, so we thought, the sooner the better."

"You're not kidding me." Spike's darkly muttered words were glared at by all.

"Uhh... Well, we are gonna leave come nightfall, I just wanted to tell you." he directed his civil words at Buffy. "Do you think you can get Druscilla some cake? Spike can help me with some baggage."

Nodding, she watched the two men go back into the basement, took a deep breath, and helped Dru find some Little Debbie cakes.

"I'm not 'elpin you with anything, ya poofter." Spike muttered, disgruntled.

Angel turned from the cot where he was backing a small bag, to shake his head disgustedly at his childe. "What is up your ass?"

"Not you!" They both looked shocked at what he had said, and Spike hurriedly continued, "Buffy wants to keep patrolling."

Angel rolled his eyes. "Of course she does. She's the best, no one can do it better than Buffy. Someone other than her could get hurt..."

Spike grinned at his sire's sarcastic words, and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. Lighting one, he dragged deeply on it.

"Long day?"

"No... Well, yeah, but... I haven't smoked since we found out... and... Well, bullocks! They're my cigarette's! But... Eh...." He toed it out. "I feel bad even thinking the smoke is gonna drift upstairs. It makes her nauseas." Running a hand through his hair, he sneered at Angel. "What kinda hair mousse you use, Peaches? I'm turning into you.... may as well look like it." He looked his sire over. "Except for those dumbassed clothes."

Angel just arched his brow at Spike, knowing this conversation would never go any further than Spike wanted it to. He pushed the bag at him. "Take it to the tunnels."

Nodding once, he went out the one exit in the basement he was sure Buffy knew nothing of. When he returned, Angel was in a death-like slumber on a cot away from the sun. Apparently, Buffy had deposited Dru in the same manner, sleeping, curled slightly towards Angel.

He wandered upstairs, to find Buffy pushing ground hamburger around a skillet, browning it. Then he remembered. Taco night. Walking up behind Buffy, Spike place his hands gently on her stomach, rubbing softly.

He nuzzled the side of her neck, feeling wonder at the memory of seeing his baby girl on the screen at the doctor's. He placed a kiss on the curve of her neck and shoulder, whispered in her ear, "You are so beautiful..."

Buffy pulled away slightly. "Stop it." The tears she didn't want to fall did.

Stunned, more than a piece hurt, he did. "Stop what?"

She turned to face him. "You're making it too easy."

"Making WHAT too easy?" Angering quickly, he ran his hands through his hair.

Buffy stared at him, taking in his blue eyes, his blatantly dyed hair, and his incredible hands.

"It's too easy to love you."

He made a noise in his throat, tossed his hands up in the air. "What's WRONG with that?? That's what I want." He went to reach for her, continuing, "For it to be easy for you to love me..."

She backed away from his open arms. "No. It's wrong." She wrapped her arms around herself. "You'll leave. It'll be harder to heal. Every time it gets harder... It hurts more... If you left..." She spread her hands wide, trying to find the words. "I'd die for sure."

Spike's hands clenched. "What does it TAKE, Buffy!? I LOVE YOU! All right? *I* *love* *YOU*. I'm not going anywhere. I'm even... Turning HUMAN for you! For our baby. So I can always be here. So you'll never have a reason to say goodbye, Buffy. I'm so scared. But I know this..." he gestured to the air between them, "this is real. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

He grabbed her hand, ignoring her struggle to get free. Slammed it against his chest. "What is that, Buffy?"

She answered meekly, "A heartbeat."

His hold on her hand grew gentle, he stroked her hand and arm to the elbow and back. "That's right, luv... And I'm the only man in history that can truthfully say my heart beats for you. All I want to do is love you, Buffy... Let me."

Recalling Angel's words to her, to let Spike love her because he knew how, echoed through her head. She took a deep breath, and went into his arms, letting him hug her, sniffle her hair. She smiled. It was familiar, but never... common. He turned her from her thoughts, pushed her towards the stove.

"Niblet'll kill you for burnin' her taco's." He stepped behind her to wrap his arms around her middle. She hadn't admitted she loved him. That still hurt a little bit. But she had walked willingly into his arms. Let him hold her in the sunlight. He smiled, thinking that she even shared a problem with him. They were making progress...

And she would admit her love before their baby was born. He vowed it.


Tequila

Part 15

Buffy watched Spike sleep. He was sleeping so much more lately. Not just at night. During the day, catching catnaps, sleeping during commercials. She guessed it was just a way of catching up on over... what? Almost 130 years of sleep? But he was thinking in his sleep, again. She could always tell, because it looked like he was glowering with his eyes closed. There were three lines on his face that gave it away. The one between his eyebrows, and one on either side of his mouth.

Dinner had gone off considerably well. Considering. Taco's remained unburned. Her heart remained turned upside down, inside out, and backward. Giles had come for dinner, and Dawn had practically been in his lap the entire time. She had in fact, at one time, kissed him on the cheek. She thought nothing of it, knowing the affection her sister had for Giles -and vice versa- was paternal. She liked having a Grand-da figure. And Buffy liked having a father figure. She looked at the vampire who had just muttered a VERY dark and rude British obscenity under his breath. Curled his nose. It took all she had not to laugh at his mulish expression. She could see him as a little boy. Stubborn. But sweet.

So sweet, her William. Her Spike. Her lover. The father of her child. Their child. She reached out a hand to let it hang directly over his heart. Her palm barely grazed the fabric of his tee-shirt, and she could feel his heartbeat. Thought back on his words. Considered many things for many heartbeats. He saved her, and when he couldn't, he sure as hell tried. He loved her. Loved Dawn. Loved the Scoobies. Even Xander. And Xander was such an ass to him. She had been over all of this already. She even considered his darker side. His demon, that he was at peace with. But turned over for her. She knew he had done things. One didn't get so famous as Spike was without some mayhem. But even now, he seemed proud of that. There was something, lurking just under the sky blue of his eyes that revealed shame. That didn't seem a familiar emotion for him. She wondered if she just asked, would he tell her?

She wondered if she even cared. She loved him for who he was now. Not that she didn't like his.... rougher side, it was just that he could never do the things he had again. He had told her so. So did it matter what he had done? Compared to what he was doing now?

No. She knew it now. No. It didn't matter to her at all. Unless... She scoffed at herself. Spike was SO not into... Well, what did she know? Maybe he had been. But... that didn't matter. She took a deep breath.

"I love you, Spike." It was so much easier to say than she thought. Of course, he was unconscious. She sighed, lay down beside him, and slept.

He drifted, lately, when he 'slept', between the sleep of the undead, and the dreams of a human. This had been the best so far, Buffy's hands resting over his heart, whispering her love... falling asleep... His body jerked awake, not sitting up, his eyes open wide. Had it been a dream? Looking to his side, he saw a very asleep Buffy, and wondered. Closing his eyes slowly, he wouldn't doubt that it had been. But even in his best- and worst- dreams that Buffy never sounded that content, that sure about anything.

Shrugging, he wrapped his arms around his sleeping love and dreamt.

End, part 15.

I know... short. More, longer, soon. Three great words, hmmmm? Stay tuned. What's with the claim? And this apocolypse shit? Who knows? Could be adressed next chapter. Thanks.

Tequila Sunrise

Start, Part 16


Angel and Spike walked in the door, weary from patrol and a heavy conversation.

"Spike, what happened with us... All of us... That was a long time ago."

"I know." The blonde vampire paced in the doorway, struggling to verbalize his feelings. "When... When Connor was born, how did you feel?"

"Jubliant."

Slicing his hands through the air, he clarified, "About one day, him finding out all your dirty secrets. All the death... all the pain... All the sick-"

"Ashamed. Terrified. Disgusted."

"Now add on that the woman you love."

"The same. Intensified. But Spike, Buffy knew that I-"

"I don't CARE!" He glanced quickly around, glad that his vampiric hearing had not sensed any stirring. Lowering his voice, he continued. "You have a SOUL, Angel... I haven't gotten my shiny new one yet. And the things we did.... I've only recently regretted. Never took the time before. Never thought much on it. Chalked it up to deviant, 'family' experiences and moved on. Now, with the baby... my baby coming, I just wish... That I could erase it all. Not even because... I didn't enjoy it at the time. No use lying right? But because I never thought... I'd never have anyone to answer to. Big Bad. But now I've gotten this little bugger, and her Mum."

"Spike, what we did was-"

"Depraved. We shouldn't ever have let Dru talk us into it. Ever. We don't share well. Never did. I've still got scars, Angel."

Angel's eyes faltered, knowing the tattoo on his shoulder his jagged scars from Spike's hands.

"Angel, would you ever, again, I mean... Well, Buffy heard us, t hat night in the kitchen."

"She what?"

"She heard us. She told me that whatever happened the last hundred years would have to wait.... the next few days were gonna be harrowing." He grinned half-heartedly at his grandsire. "Then she told me she didn't hate me."

"We're different people. We're better people... well, to a degree of people-ness... but... I think... Buffy cares for you. If she didn't, you wouldn't be here. One of us would be dust. But we'd never do the things we did before. I knew love was always strong to you. But I never thought that it would be able to push back your demon. Loving Buffy has changed you. On a basic level, that even your demon acknowledges. That's... enviable. And powerful. And your woman is asleep on the couch in the living room. Take her to bed. I'm going to the mansion."

"Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't push back my demon. I'm at peace with it. And it lets my love alone." Giving his grandsire a searching look, he made his way to the living room.

Glancing pensively at Spike and walking out the door, Angel made another famous exit.

Gathering his slayer in his arms, Spike headed upstairs, and stopped on the fifth step, realizing what Angel had said.

Your woman.

Your woman.

Angel had relinquished his mental claim on Buffy; turning it over in fact, to Spike.

Hurriedly tucking her in, Spike slid into bed beside her, swallowing when she rolled over, cuddled to his chest, one hand on her rounded stomach. After kissing her forehead, he yawned immensely and fell asleep.

To be awakened seemingly minutes later by the woman who had been curled in his arms. "Wake up."

He glared at her through blurry eyes. "What the bloody hell-"

"I heard you and Angel talking."

His stomach lurched, and he sat up slowly. "I see." Glancing at her warily, he waited.

"You and... And Angel... And you and Angel and Dru... You..." She took a deep breath, her hand going unconsciously to the angel pendant still hanging from her neck. "This isn't coming out well. You said... You said you were ashamed. Scared. But you said you were at peace with your demon."

Unsure where they were headed, he just watched her. He mentally braced himself to be thrown out. Left forever without his child and his love.

"Remember the day at the Magic Shop?" Her hand lifted from her pendant to run her fingers where his ridges had been. "You asked me... if I was frightened of you. I tried to prove to you... to myself that I wasn't. And I'm not. But it also proved to me that I trusted you. What I'm trying to say... it's just... I'm as at peace with your demon as you are."

She watched a cavalcade of emotion flicker across his face. Hopeful. Fearful. Confused. She reached out, linked their hands together, pressed them to his chest. Both could feel the pumping of his heart.

"And to be at peace with your demon... I have to be at peace with your past, too. And I am. I mean... I'm not saying it's not sick. But we both know it. And you've already said that you would never repeat your past again. If I can accept what you were, and who you are now... You should, too."

Unclasping their hands, she laid back down, her back to him, and attempted to sleep.

After a time, Spike lay down behind her, wrapping his arms around her, not even attempting to sleep, and thought.

The next morning, the two sent Dawn off to school, and finally got around to picking up t he house. The last week had been... insane at best, and it took it's toll on the time she spent doing chores.

Barely heard over the vaccum that Buffy was running and the clattering in the kitchen she hoped wasn't her mother's fine china being broken by Spike, the doorbell chimed.

Shutting off the old vaccum, she walked to the door, swung it open.

"Good morning, Ms. Summer's... I'm afraid I have a bit of bad news..."

In her doorway stood none other than Charles Donovan.



End, part 16.

Start, part Seventeen.



He shifted nervously from foot to foot.

Buffy's grip on the door handle tightened. "Bad news? Like... It's going to rain today bad news, or... You've come to rip my baby sister from my arms and place her in a home where they can't show her a fraction of the love I have for her bad news?"

She hadn't noticed when Spike had strode up behind her, but only felt his presence by his fingers wrapping around hers on the door handle, gently loosening them.

"... Somewhere between the rain and ripping. Depending on your point of view."

"Why don't we head inside and finish this discussion?" Spike showed Donovan in, and they all sat at the kitchen table as they had only weeks before.

Buffy got up, slammed coffee cups, still wet in the dish strainer, on the table, and put water on to boil. "What's going on?"

"I... Well, the state has a few problems with you keeping Dawn."

"Like *what*?"

"Like... They can't find records on Mr. Elliot, here."

"S'Cuz I'm British, you git. All my records are over there."

The water started to boil. Buffy reached into the cupboard.

Mr. Donovan protested. "I don't need any coffee..."

"It's not coffee, it's hot chocolate. And it's for Sp-Will and I. What else?"

"Well, you see... There's a slight problem with the marriage."

Buffy's spoon clanked the side of her cup harshly. "What... What problems?"

"Well, there isn't one. I mean... Well..."

"Just spit it out, mate. We need to keep Dawn. We love her."

"There has to be evidence. They want a certificate. Probably pictures and an invitation, too, especially considering Ms. Summer's background."

She sipped from her mug, saying coolly, "What *record* would that be?"

"Well, you DO have two blown up schools under your belt." Donovan switched his attention to Spike. "And you have no job. No visible means of support. We can't very well just LEAVE a child with a woman, on maternity leave from a fast food restaurant, engaged to a man with no job. It's not fair to Dawn."

Spike stood, and stood tall. At five foot ten, he was no giant, but since Donovan was sitting, the effect was definitely noted. "What's not fair, sir, is that *I* am an undercover agent, I work for her Majesty, AND the UN. That you snivelling sods have to have it explained to you is terrible. My people said they'd call your people." Sitting down he gave a defeated sigh. "My paperwork wasn't in order before I left. It was slightly rushed. I'm the top in the field, you know. They told me they'd take care of the "Joe Normal" stuff, but apparently..." He stood, made his way to the phone. "I'll give them a ring, tell them what you've said, why we can't keep Dawn." Rolling his eyes, he added, "This should be realllll pretty. All I want to do is keep this place safe." He picked up the phone, started to dial. "Let's hope they don't ask your name, mate. I *DID* rather like you." He gave the man a pitying look.

Stammering nervously, Donovan said, "I'll... I'll talk to my boss's boss. I'm sure... I'm sure that we can work this out. Your *profession* shouldn't stand in the way, sir. After all you've done," he added indignantly. "I believe I could talk them into accepting just a marriage certificate, and consider Dawn in good hands? Yes?"

Buffy managed a rather calm, "I think that we can arrange that, Mr. Donovan... We do appreciate you coming and telling us this. It... It means a lot that we can explain it to you."

"Of course." They stood, moved to the door.

Seeing him out, Buffy smiled gently at the man.

"Ms. Summer's?"

"Yes?" Her outer calm was starting to shatter... He needed to go.

"I think... That it would be good if I could attend the wedding, don't you think? Kind of like a personal voucher?"

Trembling, she replied, "Lovely. That sounds... Lovely..." Closing the door, and leaning against it, she looked at Spike.

"What the HELL are we gonna do now??"

Spike grinned at her. "Well, love... Looks like we're getting married. Still want 'Wind Beneath My Wings'?"



End, part Seventeen.

Start, part 18.


"What do you MEAN you have to get married??" Giles stared at them, his brow wrinkled in confusion. His mind was racing. Could this be what the prophesy meant?? If they DID wed... could it negate Angel's claim??

"The Social Security people have their panties in a twist, saying I didn't have a job, and Buffy was pregnant, so... Ehhhh..." Spike dragged a hand through his hair.

"He lied. Told them he was undercover for the UN and the Crown... Couldn't BELIEVE that his people hadn't set up his "Joe Normal" shit yet..." Buffy was torn between her ire and thankfulness for his quick thinking. Ire won out. "And now, we can't even FAKE a certificate, because the social service worker INVITED himself to our wedding!"

"He... invited himself to the wedding..?" Giles clarified.

"Right." Spike leaned back in his chair, grinned rakishly at Buffy. "I've still got that skeleton ring, luv. If it'll make you feel better about the whole thing."

As Giles unsuccessfully stifled a laugh, Spike added, "We can even have the daytime ceremony if you want to."

Standing in a silent rage, she slipped the sapphire ring on the table, walked into the training room and locked the door behind her. Then, very methodically, the very pregnant slayer began beating the hanging bag.

On the other side of the door, Giles jerked at the handle, then glared at Spike. "I don't know exactly what you've done, or why it 's your fault, but, Spike, she could hurt herself. The baby."

Slamming a fist against the door, he shouted, "Let me in, Buffy. Now."

Between puffs of breath, she responded angrily, "Get. Out. Now."

Spike took a step back, ready to plow in the door. Giles stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "It's magic, Spike. Stronger so demons can't get in."

Looking at Giles, his eyes flashed yellow. Shaking Giles' hand off, Spike stepped forward and gracefully kicked the door open.

Both ignored Giles' surprised look.

"I said get out!" She pounded the bag.

"And how many times do I have to ignore you for you to get it?? Now, pet, calm down. You'll hurt the baby."

Dropping her hands, she rounded on him. "Calm down?? I suppose you're right. I should just chill out. You know, what's a lifetime commitment, anyway? Piece of paper, fifty years? No big! I SHOULD be calm like you. But maybe you're not calm at all. You just don't CARE. So crack ANOTHER joke, Spike."

"Oh! I see! Buffy can't get over herself to see the irony of it! Even RUPE can see it! You KNOW I love you, so WHAT is the bleedin' problem, Buffy?"

"You're just-"

"Bullocks! It's not about me. Tell me the truth!"

"I'm scared." The admission took her fire. "I want my mom. I'm marrying a vampire. I'm bearing his child." She looked at him, confusion in her eyes. "And I'm not... unhappy. It feels... right. So.. I just wonder... When will it stop? When is it gonna hurt again?"

Spike slipped the ring he had been holding back on her finger. Kissing her palm, he said seriously, "As long as I can be here to help it, it's never gonna hurt again."

"Why were you joking?"

Giles slipped quietly out of the room, pretending to read a book.

Spike shrugged. "Maybe because I'm scared, too."

That night, a Scoobie meeting of grand proportions was called.

"Spike and I are getting married. Willow, invitations. Forty-five people tops. Xander, um... I don't know yet. Giles, find a minister. Anya, flowers, seating arrangements. Oh! Food! Xander. You. Food. Dawn, you and I are dresses. Spike and Giles are his clothes. Think cheap people. Think cheap." Clapping her hands briskly Buffy arched her brow. "Questions?"

Xander's hand flew into the air. "What the HELL is going on??"

"Very long complicated story short, Spike has convinced Social Services that he is an undercover agent, and THAT is why the means of support is invisible. WE have to get married to keep Dawn. That simple."

"So... boils down to... Marry Spike, keep Dawnie?" At Buffy's nod, shrugged. "As no other alternatives present themselves... All right."

Suddenly Willow's hand shot up, accompanied with a, "Ooh! Ooh! Me!"

"Willow?"

"Do you want embossed invitations? White or cream? What are your colors?"

"Ummm.... Cream... and... blue?" She fingered her pendant. "Light blue."

Willow nodded and scribbled it down on a tablet.

Anya was next. "What kind of flowers?"

Spike spoke up. "Sunflowers. Lots of them. Maybe lilies of the valley."

Anya smiled appreciatively.

Xander said tentatively, "We could do... kind of a barbecue reception. Cheaper that way. Have people bring things."

Buffy smiled brightly. "Great idea."

The wedding planning was underway.

Buffy threw the bridal magazine down with a muffled scream. Dawn looked up from her own catalog with a questioning look.

"I'm getting married in a tent. A black tent." She pouted defiantly.

Dawn laughed. "You are not. You'll just get a simple dress, with a flowing skirt. People know you're pregnant. They don't care."

"I'll be ugly."

"No you won't. Even if we have to get ugly bridesmaid dresses. You'll be gorgeous. You always are anyway. Even when you're yelling at Spike and Xander."

Buffy's eye twitched. "They ate my icecream."

"Oooh! Look at this one!" She shoved a magazine under Buffy's nose to show her a picture.

It was beautiful. A simple gown, it had capped sleeves, much like an old peasant blouse. It hugged the chest softly, then flowed out at the stomach, it's soft gauzy material pooling at the ground in a small train. Buffy circled it with the red pen she had been circling and x-ing things out with.

Both girls sighed. Dawn pointed to the price tag. $199. At an outlet shop on the other side of town. Without a word, they picked up their purses and left.

Spike snarled at Giles. "This is... a ponce's tuxedo. I won't wear it." Flashing his eyes at Giles, he glared defiantly.

"Yes... You're evil. I know." Turning away from the obnoxious vampire, Giles pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Ahh... That's better."

Turning, Giles closed his eyes in exasperation. "Spike, take off that damned leather duster. If Buffy even heard about you thinking about that, she'd kill you."

"But these new kinds are so... casual. What happened to dinner coats, and such? I mean, bloody hell. Being formal isn't even formal."

Giles' eyes lit up. "Spike, come with me. I know the perfect place."

End, part 18.

 

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