Fix You


“You know, it’s probably none of my business, but I just gotta ask” The vampire swings for her and she ducks his blow effectively. “Did you smell this bad when you were alive?”


She spins and kicks him in the head; causing him to stagger backward into a headstone.


“Cos if it’s a post-mortem thing then boy- is my face red. But just so you know...” He throws another blow at her but she blocks it; then punches him so hard that he flips back over a headstone, landing hard in the dirt. “The fast-growing field of personal grooming’s come a long way since you became a vampire.”


She slams her stake down toward him but he side-steps; clearly more advanced in this field than he was letting on. He grabs her arm and twists it, then suddenly, before she can even contemplate it, he stabs her own stake straight down into her stomach.


Shocked for a moment Buffy stands in an excruciating hold; then she looks down to see the stake is impaled deep in her side below her ribs.


After a moment she manages to push the vampire away from her then slowly she wrenches the stake out of her side, letting out a small cry of pain.


The vampire is back on her in a moment and she can think of nothing better to do than run. It’s not easy. She looks behind her and the vampire is gone; she doesn’t have to turn her eyes back to know that he’s right in front of her.


“You going?” he mocks; the intent deadly in his eyes as Buffy backs up a few steps; still clutching her side. “But you were having so much fun a minute ago.”


Buffy whimpers as her back hits the cold tomb wall. There’s nowhere left for her to go. The vampire leans in toward her; his objective plainly written on his face. Buffy closes her fist around the bloodstained stake stilled gripped in her hand. Gotta do it; gotta find the strength to slay.


Instead a whispered plead leaves her lips; “Please...”


The chuckling that erupts from him is too much for her; he stalls his attack as he leans his head back to chortle at her; she’s no longer even seen as a threat.


With the last of her energy, Buffy pushes the stake up; into his torso. For a moment he goes on laughing, then he feels wood bite into his heart and he looks down at the stake protruding his chest. “You bitch!” he exclaims as his body collapses into dust that covers Buffy who slides down the wall until she’s a slumped and bloody mess on the floor. She’s still clutching the stake tight in her hands.


“Oh God...” she whispers, her eyes darting down to the blood slowly soaking through her sweater. “I need... Help...”


Her energy’s fast fading and she knows it. If another vampire should come along now there’s no way she’d be able to win. She needs help and she needs it now.


Slowly she turns her body until she’s propped on hands and knees; one bloody hand still pressed to her weeping side. She lets out a small cry as she begins to crawl. There’s only one place she can go; the nearest place. He’ll help her. Well, he won’t help her but he’ll call her friends. Get them to help her. He won’t hurt her anyway; she knows that much. Not that he could even if he wanted to. Which he probably does.


Buffy collapses on the cold, grey doorstep to his crypt and the pain that wracks her body forces a faint sob from her.


“Sp...” she tries; her voice coming out as a raspy whisper, “Spi... Sp... Spi...”


She raises her hand and knocks weakly, then slumps against the door and weeps softly.


A few moments silence then- Suddenly the door is wrenched open and she falls sideways into the crypt and onto his boot clad feet. Finally safe she closes her eyes.


“Slayer?” he asks, attempting to make his tone bored as he gazes down at the crown of her blond head of hair. “What you doing here?”


She gives no response so he bends down to turn her over; a familiar hard look in his eyes.


“I don’t appreciate you not...” his voice trails off, then shudders to a stop as he catches sight of the deep wound to her side.


“Slayer?” he asks.


She looks up at him with eyes that are obscured with tears.


“Please...” she begs, “Please help me...” her eyes are so open and pain-filled as she stares up at him, “I know you don’t want to... I know you’d rather see me dead but... Please... This is me begging like I said I never would... Please; just call my friends...”


His face hardens for a moment as he stares at her, thinking through his options with a cold expression on his face. An expression that softens like it always does when it comes to the Slayer these days.


He kneels down beside her; immediately inspecting the wound. He stares at the splinters of wood left behind.


“What did this?” he asks quietly.


“Vamp.” she replies in a small voice. “Staked me.”


“So I see.”


He braces his arms beneath her, then slowly lifts her from the ground.


“What’re you doing?” she asks; suddenly panicked by his actions.


“Relax Slayer, I’ve got you.” he replies. “Not gonna hurt you pet- just wanna get this wound cleaned up.”


He holds her unnaturally close to his body and her head collapses against his chest in a gesture more unwilling than any other.


“Spike...” she tries, her voice muffled by his chest, “Please just get my friends.”


“Will do love,” he says; instantly cursing himself for calling her that, “But I don’t have a phone out here and we can’t be wasting time right now.”


He lowers her gently onto his stone sarcophagus; being careful not to jolt her wound.


“You okay?”


She’s out cold and he groans as he looks at the mess that is her abdomen.


He looks nervously at the blood-caked fabric sticking itself to her wound and he acknowledges the fact that he has to get it off of her.


His fingers fumble like a spotty faced teenage boy’s as he works the fabric of her top up and over her head; careful not to hurt her, or to let his eyes linger too long where they shouldn’t.


The Slayer lets out a small hiss and Spike’s chip sends him a sudden jolt of pain but her eyes remain closed.


Spike looks at the wound to her side with concern and he takes his own shirt off; ripping it into strips and using the leftovers to soak up the blood seeping over her with gentle strokes. He’s suddenly glad that she is unconscious and consequently unable to bear witness to his complete and utter nancy-boy act. Bitch’d never let it go.


The wound continues to seep and Spike looks at it with concern as he tries to stem the flow.


“Water.” he mumbles to himself as he pushes a hand under the Slayer, lifting her from the cold stone and stuffing the remains of his shirt beneath her body to keep her insulated. “Be right back pet.” he mutters; running toward his closest water supply.


She’s in the same position when he returns; her eyes closed; almost as if she were merely sleeping. And her abdomen looking like it’s suffered the effects of a shish kebab experiment gone horribly wrong.


“Pet?” he asks; making sure she’s still out.


No response.


“Good. This could sting a little.” he washes the wound with the clean water he’s salvaged; removing all the splinters as gently as he can and washing the blood away. Grazing the raw skin with worried finger tips. Then he grabs the bottle of antiseptic and glances at the unconscious Slayer apologetically.


Taking the sweater he’d ripped off of her; he tips a measured amount onto the fabric; letting it soak in; then returning to Buffy’s side and taking one of her limp hands into his own, before kneeling beside the wound and gently pressing his make-shift cloth into it. Buffy’s hand instantly tightens around his and she lets out a small yelp of pain as she shocks herself back to consciousness.


“Spike?” she demands, her voice weary but strong, “What the Hell are you doing?”


Spike smirks at her, pulling the cloth back. “Antiseptic pet.” he says, “Doing you a favour.”


Buffy looks down at herself then gives a grimace of dismay; quickly dropping Spike’s hand and pushing him away from her. She pulls Spike’s torn shirt out from beneath herself and wraps it around her chest to maintain her modesty as she pushes herself into an awkward sitting position, “What the Hell is this?” she demands.


Spike raises an eyebrow at her, “What is this?” he repeats; his voice incredulous. “What- no thanks? I just saved your life Slayer.”


“Please.” she snaps, turning away from him with disgust, “This was nothing.”

“You know what?” Spike asks, shooting back up to his feet and glaring at Buffy’s turned head, “I don’t need this from you Slayer. I don’t know why I even bothered in the first place. Sit tight; I’ll go and tell Red to come for you.”


“Don’t bother.” Buffy snaps; turning back to him with just as much fire, “I think I can take it from here.”


She throws her feet over the edge of the sarcophagus and pushes herself down to the ground. Before collapsing at Spike’s feet as he yells out with dismay.


“Slayer- no!” he says, running to her side, “I hadn’t finished. You’re not fixed yet pet.”


She stares at him helplessly as he lifts her and places her gently back onto the stone sarcophagus; pushing her back down and returning to the wound which has began to seep again.


“Just take it easy will ya?” he says as she struggles against him.


“No- Spike let me go. I don’t need your help.” she tries to push him away but he holds her still.


“You came to me Slayer.” he says; his eyes on the wound he’s cleaning even as he feels her chestnut eyes fixed on his face. “You can’t have second thoughts now.”


“Your place was the closest.” she replies indignantly.


“Figured.” he says, keeping emotion from his voice and still not meeting her eyes. “Hold still. I need to clean this before I can dress it Slayer.”


“Why are you doing this?” Buffy asks, grimacing with pain. “Why bother?”


“I figure having you in my debt can only be a good thing.” he replies. “This’ll sting love.”


He presses her antiseptic soaked sweater to her wound again and Buffy hisses with pain. Spike too flinches as a charge of electricity flashes through his already charred brain.


Buffy notices his flinch and it makes her pause.


“Spike...” she asks, “Is this... Is this hurting you?”


“Not much.” he replies. “Bloody Hell- I said hold still!” he yells as she struggles again, “Do you want to stop bleeding or not Slayer?”


Buffy sighs; collapsing back against the cold stone and letting Spike carry on with his clean up.


She doesn’t speak as he takes his tattered shirt back off of her and ties it tightly around the wound.


Then he lets go of her as if the contact between their skin is burning him. He heads silently off into another part of his crypt, and returns moments later with two shirts.


“Here.” he says, throwing a red button down shirt to the Slayer who catches it as she cautiously sits up. She watches him wordlessly as he pulls his own shirt on; fastening it quickly, then turning back to her. “What?” he asks, “You need help or something?”


“Oh... No.” she says; pulling Spike’s red shirt on over her bra and delicately pushing each button through. It smells like him. It feels like him. “Did you have to wreck my top?” she asks, “It was new.”


“So was mine.” he says; nodding to the blood soaked leftovers lying on the floor. “So I guess we’re even.”


“Even.” Buffy agrees. “And thank-”


“Better not tell your Scoobies about all this.” Spike interrupts; looking away. “Don’t want them getting’ their knickers in a twist. Just tell them someone called an ambulance and the docs sorted you out.”


Buffy nods. “Sure.” she says in a small voice. “You’ve done enough. You don’t need trouble from the others.”


“Glad we’re in agreement.” he says. Then he sighs. “Come on; I’ll walk you home.”


He helps her back to her feet; holding her arm gently and guiding her through the first unsteady steps.


“How’s the dressing?” he asks, “Too tight? Is the wound hurting? Do you need-”


“Spike.” Buffy interrupts. “I’m fine. Honestly.”


He stares at her a moment, then nods. “’Course.” he says. “Come on. Lets get you home.”


.............................................................................


She didn’t comment about the fact that he held her arm all the way back home. She wanted to be mad at him for implying that she was too weak to walk alone, but somehow she was merely touched by his evident and uncalled for concern.


His shirt felt big and warm around her body and she could barely feel the stab wound as they walked on in silence now.


“How’d it happen anyway?” Spike asks eventually. “Not everyday someone stakes the Slayer.”


“I don’t wanna talk about it.” she replies.


“Right.” says Spike. “Not exactly the vamp to confide in huh?”


Buffy looks at him for a moment; her eyes wondering. “A vampire.” she says.


“One?”


“Just one. Nothing special about him at all. Big eighties hair, but other than that.” Spike chuckles but she senses that he isn’t laughing at her. “I can’t believe I was nearly-”


“Hey.” Spike interrupts. “Nearly nothing Slayer. You’ve got a few years in you yet love.”


“But it was just one vamp Spike- and I’ve killed a thousand. Maybe more.” she looks down, “One vamp and he nearly got the better of me. Have I gotten sloppy? Is this what happens to Slayer’s when they get older?”


“You’re reading to far into it.” Spike says; his tone irritated. “That’s not how it goes. It’s not about who you are or where you’ve come from. In the end it’s all down to the fight; every one could be your last. Every fight ends with someone losing; someone dying.” Spike grunts, “You’ve just gotta be sure that it’s not you. That you always win.”


“But I won’t always win.” she says. “One of these days-”


“Bloody ‘one of these days’ be damned!” Spike shouts, “Thinking like that only leads to one thing. I don’t wanna see you go out that way Buffy; you’re different to the other Slayers.”


Buffy drops his arm a little, looking up at the house they’ve reached.


“I should go.” she says. “Thanks for... You know.”


“Walking you home from the hospital?” he prompts.


She smiles. “Yeah; that.”

..................................................................


Spike watches her light switch on and sees Captain Cardboard stand up and embrace the exhausted looking Slayer. Spike sees her flinch but Riley doesn’t seem to notice.


He watches Finn lead her toward the bed and then he turns away; shaking his head; unable to watch.


God; if he hadn’t loved her with all his being before.


Spike silently curses himself as he begins his journey back to his cold crypt.


Buffy watches the dark figure move on as she hovers by the window, a deep red sleeve pulled up to her nose as she inhales almost wistfully.


“You closing those curtains Buffy?” Riley asks.


..................................................................
A/N: Just a little snippet of my fantasy ‘Fool for love’. A sequel could be written... :]
Please review,

Fix You
When you try your best but you don’t succeed



Buffy did her best to smile calmly at Riley as he paced the room like a mad-man.


“Ry, calm down,” she said, finally rising to her feet, “It wasn’t such a big deal. It *isn’t* such a big deal. I’m fine now.”


“It’s not the point Buffy.” he said with annoyance, still pacing and unable to look at her, “I didn’t realise you’d gotten so sloppy.”


“Hey!” Buffy protested, realising he wasn’t pacing out of concern for her and her abdominal wound, but in annoyance at her being hurt, “Not sloppy girl here.” she assured him, “There’s nothing wrong with my slaying.”


“There clearly is.” Riley snapped, “Buffy- you got staked. Now if that’s not a sign of a sloppy Slayer then I don’t know what is.”


Buffy fumed, her fists clenching. “Riley, that’s not fair.”


“I don’t think you should patrol alone anymore.”


“What?” Buffy asked, her nose wrinkling with annoyance, “You’re not the boss of me Riley.”


“I’m your boyfriend.” he said, “And I’m *not* risking your life anymore.”


Buffy almost laughed. “I’m the Slayer.” she said instead. “I sorta deal with the life risking on a day to day basis.”


“And you’ve what, gotten used to the idea of dying?” Buffy shrugged in response. “Well not anymore!” he yelled, “What chance do you stand against the forces of darkness when you’re so careless?”


“Riley, don’t you think you’re overreacting?”


“No. I don’t- you were almost killed today Buffy; doesn’t that mean anything to you?”


“Of course it does! You think I want to die?” Buffy’s fists clenched a little more with annoyance, “That doesn’t mean you can just stop me slaying. It’s what I was born to do. I killed the vamp that staked me didn’t I?”


“Eventually.” Riley allowed, “But not before he made a shish kebab outta you.”


Buffy rolled her eyes at him, “So I can’t handle myself? Is that what you’re saying?”


“Maybe.” he snapped back. “I’m just trying to show you how serious this is. You don’t seem to understand-”


“I understand.” she interrupted in a snarl, “It’s you who doesn’t understand. You weren’t even there.”


“Well I will be- from now on.”


“No.”


“I’m not letting you slay alone.” Riley insisted.


“I’m not letting you stop me.” Buffy retorted.


“Buffy- this *isn’t* up for discussion.”


“You wanna bet?”


“Stop being so childish!”


“Me?” Buffy cried, “I just want to be allowed to do my job in peace. God- you are such a jerk sometimes.”


“Well you’re an ignorant, bossy, self-involved, self-righteous, uptight and annoying *bitch*!” Riley yelled back.


In the silence that followed his blurted statement, Buffy merely stared at him; anger burning in her eyes. Eventually, she looked away whispering;


“Get out.”


“What?” Riley asked, and she looked up with fire flashing in her eyes.


“OUT!” she screamed, “GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

..................................................................................


Buffy didn’t sleep well that night. First she ripped off the shirt Spike had leant her, and hurled it into the corner of the room, ignoring the fact that she was angry at Riley and not the vampire who had helped her. It just seemed justified to be mad at men in general.


Then she padded softly over to her mirror, peering at the dressing Spike had plastered gently to her side. She began to peel the corner down, but blanched when she saw the gash, and quickly reapplied the dressing.


Then with a sigh, she pulled on a night-shirt and crawled into her inviting looking bed.


But she couldn’t sleep. If it hadn’t had been for the huge hole in her side, she’d have been tossing and turning like a mad-man, but as it was, it was all she could do to simply lie still.


After several hours of ceiling-staring, she finally sighed, crawling out of her bed and standing in the centre of her room, looking for something, anything, to distract her from her insomnia.


Spike’s shirt lay crumpled and half-forgotten in the corner of her room. Maybe she should give it back to him.


Buffy shrugged as she picked it up, well, it would give her something to do after all.


She started for her bedroom window, but felt suddenly, overwhelmingly, tired. Slowly, hesitantly, she held the shirt up to her nose and inhaled deeply. His smell; everything about him.


It didn’t bear thinking about right now, but that smell comforted her.


Buffy crawled back into her lonely bed, the vampire’s shirt still pressed to her cheek. And she fell asleep with the red shirt he had given her, cradled in her arms.

................................................................


“Slayer.”


She turned around wearily to greet him.


“Should you really be out patrolling so soon after-”


“Oh God, don’t you start.” she snapped, eyes instantly narrowing to a glare.


Surprisingly, Spike nodded and let it go as he fell into step beside her. “Troubles with the captain?” he inquired as he discreetly checked the normality of her movement. She appeared fine, but her eyes told him different.


“Don’t call him that.” she said half-heartedly. He looked at her inquisitively and she sighed, “He thinks I need him to baby-sit me,” she said, eyes averting, slightly embarrassed now, “Everything just blew out of proportion and we ended up...” she looked up at him with a start, “God; sorry Spike. You don’t wanna be hearing this crap.”


“It’s fine.” he said.


“No, it’s not.” she insisted. “We’re enemies and I seem to just keep crossing that line. I’m sorry.”


“Slayer, it’s not a problem.”


She looked at him strangely for that comment.


“It really is.” she said. Her eyes had narrowed once more. “Spike, we’re not friends. We’re enemies. It doesn’t matter that you saved me last night, that doesn’t change anything. It just won’t do for us to get close.”


He stared at her a moment, then nodded. In an instant, he was away from her. And in that instant, Buffy felt guilt hit her full in the face.


“Spike!” she called after him. He turned around, attempting to mask the emotions on his face, “Look, I’m sorry okay. I didn’t mean to undermine what you did for me last night because it was... Well, it was a huge deal. It’s just...” she looked concerned as she continued, “I don’t know how close we should be getting.”


At his confused look, she clarified; “Pretty soon that chip’s going to come out and our whole situation is going to altar. You and I both know there’ll be a fight to the death,” she bit her lip slightly at the idea, “I just don’t know what it would mean if we were friends.”


“Fine.” he said. “Fine.”


“Oh Spike, don’t take it the wrong-”


“NO! Slayer! Damn it!” Spike yelled, spinning around, “I just can’t win with you. I do all... All I bloody well can and you still...” he looked away, “I just thought you might respect me a little more than you do.”


He stalked away from her, not wanting to hear her pitiful explanation.


He was walking aimlessly, desperately trying to get the thought of her out of his head. She was driving him crazy.


He didn’t want anything in the world, except to be allowed to love her, but she was unwilling to even allow friendship to blossom. There was no hope for him, and he knew it. She wasn’t about to turn around with a change of heart, and accept him into her life. She was strong-willed and self-righteous, and of course, he respected her for this, but it didn’t mean much for him in the long run.

...................................................................

“Buffy.”


“Riley.” she replied. “Look, I’m not sure I’m ready to talk to you yet.”


His cool and calm façade instantly slipped and the eyes of anger she’d witnessed the night before returned in a flash.


“I see you haven’t become any less stubborn.” he snapped, his eyes becoming narrow slits as he glared at her.


“You really thought one night away from you would make me wake up to how I can’t live without you?” she asked, just as independent as ever, “You’re living in a different world to me Riley.”


“Clearly.” he replied, and he clenched his fists as she turned away from him, “Buffy this isn’t over. We have to talk this through.”


“Talk what through?” she snapped, her eyes just as angry as his. “Riley, you clearly have some unresolved issues regarding me, especially considering your little word vomit last night. I don’t think us talking is such a good idea right now.”


“Well we’re going to- damn it. Buffy, you’re always running away from your issues.”


“I *am not*!” she protested, arms crossing with anger, “I have to deal with death on a daily basis Riley, and I do apologise if that makes me a little-”


“Crazy?” he finished for her. “All I did was ask you to stop taking risks; stop endangering your life, and you threw me out of the house! Don’t you see how irrational that is?”


“You called me an ignorant, bossy, self-involved, self-righteous, uptight and annoying bitch.” Buffy recalled with scary accuracy, and Riley flinched as his regretted words were pulled back into the open. “Don’t you see how irrational *that* is?”


“Buffy, I didn’t mean-”


“Oh, you did.” she said, showing a surprising lack of emotion. “I’ve seen it building Riley. It doesn’t matter.”


“What?”


“Ry, you and I have been over for a long time.”


“*What*?”


“Well, we’ve been falling apart at the-”


“Buffy *what* are you trying to say?” he yelled; grabbing both of her arms in a bruising grip and shaking her, “Why have we been together all this time?”


Her eyes met his, but she didn’t have an answer for him.


“I don’t know.”


He slapped her *hard* across the face; then pushed her backwards down onto her bed.


“Ry-”


“Shut the Hell up.” he shouted; his eyes suddenly dangerous, “We’ll talk about this tomorrow when we’ve *both* calmed down.”


Her stomach gave a slight unexpected twinge as she watched him stalk out angrily and she couldn’t help the sudden panic that maybe she’d done the wrong thing by telling him.


Her fingers subconsciously entwined with Spike’s shirt which was still strewn across her bed, where she’d left it that morning.

..........................................................................

Standing earnestly beneath her bedroom window, Spike listened to the arguing with a frown on his face.


He practically felt her shock when the damn soldier boy grabbed her and was fuming by the time Riley slammed angrily out of the house.


Spike was all but ready to slam a fist into the side of that big lunk’s head, but something in his expression stalled him. He looked like a man with intent; like he had something planned.


He glanced up at the Slayer’s bedroom window which was now dark, then back at the retreating ex-soldier.


Might as well see what the big idiot was up to.

......................................................................

“Slayer.” he hissed, and she woke with a start.


“Spike?” she asked; her mind slightly groggy as she glanced over her clock. Half two in the morning? “What the Hell are you doing here?”


“Get up.” he replied without answering her question. “I have something to show you.”


“What?”


“Get up.”


“Don’t tell me what to do.” she snapped, her legs swinging over the side of the bed regardless. Too late she remembered she was still wearing Spike’s shirt to bed, and her face flushed a deep red with embarrassment at being caught.


She looked up slowly to see Spike had turned around. Thinking he’d averted his eyes in disgust, she huffed with annoyance, ripping the shirt off and throwing it at the back of his head as she quickly pulled on something of her own.


Spike felt the soft fabric bounce off the back of his head and it made his heart twist even further. Just seeing her, sitting there in her bed, wearing his very own shirt... God, it had damn near killed him. Knowing this was how good he could have it, if she’d just open her heart to him.


“Buffy...” he tried.


And she flinched. Flinched at the sound of him using her name.


“Slayer.” he quickly corrected himself, “You were wearing... I mean-”


“Eeww Spike,” she said, her face still crimson as she turned to face away from him, using her search for socks as a cover. “Please take that disgusting shirt away from me. Next time I’m at a loss for clothes I think I’ll just sleep naked. That thing *stank* of you.”


The last part was said so nastily Spike practically stumbled backward.


“Here.” she picked the shirt up and thrust it into his chest. “I’m ready. Now what do you want?”


Spike stared at her a moment; watching as she stalked ahead of him out of the room, then he dropped the shirt back onto her rumpled bed.


It smelt too much like her.

.............................................................
A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. I have a lot planned for this story, as you’ll see in part three, and I can assure you, this is a *very* spuffy fic :] Please review if you want more... wall_flower xx
.............................................................

When you get what you want but not what you need




Buffy was slumped on her sofa, glaring at her switched off television as her mind wandered over the events of her truly sucky day. Definitely a contender for the ‘suckiest day ever’ award. Next to Angel loosing his soul and finding out Dawn wasn’t really her sister and being killed by the Master and, yeah, she’d had some real suckers in her time.


First Spike waking her and forcing her to go to that horrible and dark building. Finding out that disgusting place existed was bad enough, even before Spike had pushed the door open to reveal Riley in the throes of some twisted passion. Then Xander lecturing her about all she’d been holding back and about how much Riley ‘loved her’. As if Xander could ever understand. Then Riley leaving without looking back.


Buffy closed her eyes in exasperated anger. Somehow this was obviously, definitely, *all* Spike’s fault.


As if on queue, a knock sounded from the front door.


For a moment, Buffy let her heart leap at the idea that maybe Riley had realised his mistake and come back to make it up to her by pleading for forgiveness. But she recognised the signature tingle at the base of her neck and she snarled as she got to her feet, ready to scream her heart out at the cause of her misery.


“Spike.” she growled, ripping the door open.


He stood there uncertainly for a moment, looking apologetic and slightly at a loss for words, a most strange and uncommon occurrence, since the vampire always seemed to have *something* to say.


“Slayer...” he started to move toward the door, as if intending to enter her home, but Buffy held up a hand and pushed him back.


“Oh, I *so* don’t think so.” she snapped, stepping out after him and slamming the door, “What do you want *prick*?”


Spike flinched a little at the name-calling, but not because he was insulted by her words, merely because it was clear she was going to hold him responsible for showing her what she needed to see. Damn Slayer, as if she’d have been happier being made a fool of by the stupid soldier boy. She didn’t need him, she could have any number of men, with a certain vampire being at the very top of the list.


Not that she’d want him. The look of fury on her face told him that much.


“What do you want?” she demanded, pushing him backwards again. He stumbled slightly, but regained his footing, forcing a sincere expression onto his face and tentatively checking the hole Riley had left in his chest earlier that evening.


“Just wanted to ‘pologise pet.” he said, eyes casting down. “I didn’t want to hurt you. Just thought you had a right to know what he was up to behind your back.”


“Oh?” Buffy asked, eyebrow quirking dangerously, “And I suppose you didn’t get anything out of it at all.” her voice was suddenly angry, “I suppose you haven’t been laughing about it all day.”


“No I-”


“Poor, pathetic Slayer.” she said in a mocking tone, “Can’t even satisfy her man. Is that what you’ve been saying? Telling the other vampires? Laughing behind my back?”


“Of course n-”


“And I suppose you’re not expecting me to beat the shit out of you for being such a prick.”


Spike looked at her with concern and her hand landed in a stinging slap across his cheek.


“This is *all* your fault Spike.” she told him in a dangerous voice, “I want you out of my town. Now.”


“Hey now-” he protested, regaining some of his internal fire, “That’s hardly fair is it? I was lookin’ out for you pet.”


“Looking out for me?” she repeated, “Spike the only *reason* you took me to that place was to see the look on my face. You don’t care about me- we’re *enemies*, always have been, always will be.”


He looked at her closely; saw the belief she held in her statement, and then dropped his gaze sadly; knowing that, to her, it would always be true. Enemies. It didn’t matter what he did.


“Right.” he said in a soft voice. “Guess I’ll be on my way then.”


“Yeah. Get out of my sight.”


He stood there for a moment longer, basking in the silence she was exuding. Listening closely to her quickened heartbeat, and wondering the cause of it.


“Spike- get lost.”


A slight frown creased his face as he picked up another, slighter, sound.


“Spike?”


His head tipped to one side as he homed in on the sound with all of his senses, dissecting it. It couldn’t really be what he thought it was- could it?


“Spike, what the hell are you doing?” Buffy demanded, frustrated by the fact that he was still standing in front of her, despite the fact that she’d demanded he leave. “Spike!”


He looked up to meet her eyes. His were filled with concern.


“Buffy...” he said, “I can hear...”


“What?” she demanded, angered even further.


“You’re... Well, you’re pregnant love.”

................................................................................
“Buffy, you need to listen to me love.”


“Get *lost* Spike!” she cried, stalking forward as she tried to continue with her evening patrol. “I have nothing to say to you.”


“Don’t be stupid.” he said, trying to grab her.


“I’m not the one being stupid here Spike.” she argued; her facial expression set as she flinched away from him. “You know that you risk all your parts-”


“I’ve heard that one pet.” he interrupted, dismissing her comment off-hand. “But this is serious.”


“No.” she said, “It’s not serious, because it’s not *real*.”


“Buffy, you were stabbed love,” Spike argued, trying to draw near to her once more, “Someone’s gotta check that your baby’s okay.”


“Woah,” Buffy said, “Look Spike, just... Back off, will ya? I think it’s quite obvious that I’m not pregnant. Firstly, hello! Relationship issues; I haven’t had sex with Riley in weeks.”


Spike sucked in his breath, feeling like he’d been clobbered by that remark. “It’s perfectly likely the baby’s been around a bit longer than that Buffy.” he said, hating having to admit that the child she was carrying had to belong to Captain Cardboard, “Months maybe. You’ll have to get a scan if you want to find out for sure.”


“This is ridiculous!” Buffy cried, throwing her arms up, “Spike, there *is* no baby!”


“Oh really?” he asked, his face setting with determination, “Then how do you explain this?”


He drew his fist back and slammed it down towards her womb; smiling with satisfaction as she leapt back instantly, her arms forming a protective barrier over her unborn child.


“Believe me?” he asked as she looked back up at him with glaring eyes.


“No.” she spat. “But you can stay the Hell away from me anyway.”

................................................................................

She saw him three times after that, and each time she ignored him vehemently. He’d yell and she’d turn the other way, pretending his words were having no effect on her whatsoever.


Secretly... Secretly, she was afraid that what he was saying could be true. More than just afraid in fact... Terrified.


She didn’t know how she would cope if she had a baby. For one thing, she was alone, *really* alone now that Riley had left. And for another, she was the Slayer. Her life consisted of blood, guts and danger; not at all the kind of world to bring a tiny, helpless baby into.


But more than that, she was scared that it was everything she’d ever wanted. And she didn’t want to risk believing him, just to have it all torn away.


“Slayer!”


“I told you to *leave me alone*!” she cried, not even bothering to turn around. “Do you want me to break your spine?”


“Not particularly.” he replied.


“Well I will so just-” she finally span around, “So just back off.”


He held his hands up defensively as she pointed an angry finger at him.


“Back off.” she repeated.


“Slayer,” he said softly, “I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to worry about this. You have friends, you have a loving family, it doesn’t matter that-”


*Slam*


Spike staggered back as her fist connected with his face in a vent of rage and he looked up at her with imploring eyes.


“You-”


“Don’t.” she interrupted. “Don’t tell me what to do Spike. You don’t know me.”


“Please just-”


“*Don’t*!” she yelled, “Just leave me alone or I’ll...” her eyes glowed like angry fire, “I’ll kill you. I swear I will!”


Spike watched as she stalked away angrily and he almost chuckled to himself as he muttered; “Hormones.”

................................................................................

“Let the conjuring be undone. Return the beast to native form.”


“Witch stop.” Olaf demanded, threateningly approaching Willow who continued her spell in a shaky voice;


“Keep him far from us and ours as long as my voice shall sound.”


Olaf looked down at himself as the nervous red-head completed her spell and he chuckled as he realised; “It did not work.”


“Okay, wait.” Willow said, flipping quickly through several centuries old pages of the book she held, “Let the conjuring-”


Buffy strode forward, landing a hefty kick to the troll’s stomach and a punch or two to his square jaw. She sensed Spike coming into attack from behind her, and she flinched, only slightly, when Olaf beat him back down to the ground.


She flung the troll onto the table and struggled to rip the impressive looking hammer from his grip, only to be thrown, full power, backward into the recovering Spike, forcing them both back down to the ground again.


Olaf began instantly trashing the club, his hammer wreaking havoc on the pillars supporting the balcony as the terrified civilians tried to scurry out of his way.


Momentarily winded, Buffy let Spike’s arms wind around her and help her back to her feet again, a strange stabbing pain in her stomach was making her falter.


“You okay Slayer?” Spike asked her.


Buffy didn’t reply, pushing him off of her and charging back toward the huge, ugly troll. Spike looked up just in time to see the balcony’s last pillar being smashed, and the whole thing coming crashing down on top of his Slayer.


“Buffy!” he yelled as she disappeared beneath the rubble with a distant cry. The troll laughed as he headed toward the exit, and Spike let him go, more interested in making sure the Slayer was unharmed. “Pet- where are you?”


He heard the sound of her muffled grunt, and eventually spotted her struggling with a heavy looking piece of balcony that was pinning her to the ground. She pushed it up slowly, the muscles in her arms straining. Spike ran to her and grabbed the heavy slab and wrenched it off of her. The winded Slayer remained on her back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. She was seeing spots. The searing pain was practically blinding her.


Something had to be wrong.


“Spike...” she said, wishing it was one of her friends, “Spike my stomach hurts.”


He knelt down and quickly laid his head on the flattened expanse of her stomach, pressing his ear to her womb.


“Baby’s fine.” he said in a hushed voice.


The statement brought fresh anger back into Buffy, and she pushed the vampire as far away from her as her strength would muster.


“I’m *not* pregnant!” she hissed, leaping back to her feet, only to find herself doubled over with pain again, “Oh... My God this hurts!”


“Take it easy.” Spike said in an exasperated voice as he made his way back over to her, “Do you *want* to miscarry?”


“This is ludicrous.” Buffy protested, her hand working its way down to lay flat above her stomach. “We’re not even talking about this Spike.”


“Buffy- face the facts!” Spike cried.


“No.” she said, shaking her head to emphasize her denial. “Riley *left* Spike. He *left*. I cannot be pregnant, it’s just... Not fair.”


“Life’s not fair pet.” he said, somewhat bitterly. “Just be careful with yourself.”


She glared at him for a moment, annoyed that he would pretend to care. Then she turned back around, scanning the room for her friends or Olaf.


“Where is he?” she asked, as she ran towards Willow.


“Gone.” the red head admitted.


Buffy frowned, a twinge in her stomach making her heart ache a little. She quickly snapped herself out of it though. “Xander.” she said, “Follow him. Willow, Anya. Go back to the magic box; find a spell that will stop him.”


The various group members all nodded, running off their separate ways.


Buffy looked to Tara who was desperately trying to make the wounded civilians more comfortable, tucking her jumper under a woman’s head and removing the debris from around her.


Buffy bent down to pick up a beam that had fallen on top of a man who looked as if he’d seen better days, but a searing pain shot through her abdomen and she let out a cry of distress as she doubled over.


“Buffy?” Tara asked, turning around to look at her girlfriend’s best friend with concern, “Are you okay honey?”


Buffy collapsed to her knees, arms gripped around her stomach as she shook her head, speechless. The word she needed to use was stuck to her tongue; *Spike*


He seemed to hear her anyway, whipping around to see her collapse to the ground.


“Slayer!” he roared, running to her side and catching her before her face could hit the splintered floor.


“Spike?” Tara asked, “What’s going on?”


“Nothing pet,” he said, “Slayer took a bit of a bad fall earlier. I’ll get her home.”


“But the Troll-”


“Run to the shop and help Red out with the spell,” he said, “The two of you can handle it.”


Tara nodded quickly, rushing from the busy disaster site as ambulances and police cars began to arrive.


“She okay?” one of the medics asked Spike as he carried Buffy toward the door.


“She’s pregnant.” he said instantly, “I think the baby might have been harmed. Can you check her?”


“Pass her over.” the medic said, holding his arms ready. Spike gently placed her into the other man’s arms, following him out to one of the ambulances. “Do you want to go with your girlfriend to the hospital?” the paramedic asked as he placed Buffy down on the stretcher.


Spike nodded, not bothering to correct the man on the fact that he and Buffy *really* weren’t an item as he climbed in beside her still form.


“I told you.” he murmured to her unconscious form as the ambulance ground into life and began speeding toward the Sunnydale memorial hospital, sirens on full blast.

..............................................................
A/N: Thank you again to everyone who reviewed. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter :]
.............................................................

When you feel so tired but you can’t sleep


Buffy woke up to the all too familiar brashness of a hospital ward. Her focusing eyes soon told her she was currently staying on the maternity ward, and however much she wanted to deny the fact that she was pregnant, the clinical authority of those two printed words seemed to finally hit the information home for her, and she burst into a heaving fit of tears.


“Buffy?” asked the voice of someone at her bedside.


She turned her sobbing head toward the man, and abruptly stopped crying when she saw her mortal enemy staring back at her.


“You alright love?”


“I’m fine.” she said, though speaking so soon after her heaving sobs was clearly inadvisable, as her voice came out in an undignified wobble. “I’m fine.”


“Very convincing.” Spike intoned, his voice teasing but gentle, “Almos’ believed ya pet.”


Buffy looked away, then down slowly. There was something a little too unsettling about her mortal enemy being this nice to her, and it set her on edge with fear about why he would need to be.


“Is...” her eyes remained settled on her stomach, “Is my baby okay?”


She feared the answer so much she couldn’t believe it. Just hours ago she’d been denying this child’s existence, but all of sudden it seemed incredibly important that it was still there at all.


“Spike?”


She looked up to meet his smiling eyes and instantly her fears were sated; strange, that it would be Spike, her enemy, who made her feel safe and secure once more.


She strained her neck as he produced something from his pocket and held it out to her.


“You’re six months gone Buffy,” he said, showing her the smudgy blob that was her baby on the photograph the nurse had taken from her scan, half an hour earlier, “Doc said the baby’s fine, small but healthy. You’ll probably start showing soon enough.”


Buffy stared at the small black and white photo dangling before her, eyes transfixed with amazement. Slowly, her face broke out into a truly mesmerised smile and tears filled her eyes as she held her hands out to bring the image closer.


“Six months?” she repeated, trying to think back to what she and Riley had been doing, six months ago today.


“She’s due mid September.” Spike clarified with a smile, “Believe me now?”


He handed the photograph to Buffy and she brought it close to her face, staring down at the tiny blob.


“Believe you.” she whispered, too awed by the image to even bother being mean to him. “Wait a minute... She?”


Spike quickly tried to back-track, smiling nervously as he said, “Always call babies ‘she’, makes it... Uh, easier.”


“I’m having a girl?!” Buffy cried, her smile huge, “A baby girl?”


Spike heaved a sigh of relief. “Yeah.” he said. “A daughter.”


Buffy’s breathing hitched with excitement, and she reached toward Spike, desperate to draw him too, closer.


“Look at her!” she cried, pulling Spike onto the bed beside her, “Look at my daughter! She’s perfect!”


Spike chuckled, entranced by her closeness and the sound of two thumping heartbeats. “Takes after her mother.” he said in a teasing voice, “Probably grow up to be just as bossy.”


Buffy slapped him playfully on the arm, then looked up as someone entered the room.


“Ah, miss Summers,” said a spectacle-clad man. “I see you’re feeling better.”


“Much.” Buffy clarified.


“Well, the tests are all complete and mother and baby are both fine, so you’re free to discharge as soon as you like.”


“Great!” Buffy enthused, moving herself out of the hospital bed, “Then I guess I’ll see you in... Three months time.”


The doctor nodded, smile on his face. He always loved to see happy couples expecting, it was so much more pleasant than having to console single mothers.


“Listen, I hate to bring this up,” he said, looking concerned as he flipped back through her notes, “But it seems you suffered a stab wound a few weeks ago, that you weren’t admitted for.”


A look of worry creased Buffy’s face and she looked up to Spike who instantly took charge.


“Her closest friend is a doctor,” he explained quickly, pulling Buffy’s hand into his own for believability. “He sorted her out.”


The doctor looked disapproving for a moment, but his expression cleared slightly. “Well whoever he is, he certainly saved your child’s life.” he said, his eyes soft, “If the wound had been left any longer than it was, it most certainly would have infected, leading to potential miscarriage.” Buffy’s hand tightened around Spike’s, “But the wound was clearly treated with care and as it was successfully mended and the baby’s life was saved, along with Miss Summers too, I’d wager.”


Buffy looked up at Spike and he couldn’t miss the gratitude in her eyes.


“Take good care of her.” the doctor said to Spike, knowing smile still in place.


“Will do.” he said.


And little did Buffy know, he truly meant it.

.....................................................................


It was round about the moment she walked through her front door when she finally realised what she was doing.


“Spike...” she said, almost apologetically, “I don’t think you should come in.” *almost* apologetic.


Spike looked at her; the hurt obvious on his face, though he tried to hide it. Shoulda known things wouldn’t have changed- never be good enough for her.


“Fine.” he said. “I’ll just clear off then.”


Buffy instantly regretted her cruel personal betrayal, and she called after him- but he was already gone.


She laid a hand on her stomach and sighed.


Six months pregnant? She shook her head in wonderment as she turned away from the open door. How was it even possible? Baby must be tough as old boots- God knows she’d been beaten up enough times over the last six months. Buffy cringed, her hands working protectively over the place she knew her baby lay, swearing not to endanger her in such a way again. She’d have to temporarily give up the slaying.


She sighed again, already able to predict Giles’ reaction.


Well, maybe she could ask Spike to patrol for her. Or at least, she could have, before she’d sent him away- declaring him not good enough for her home. He was probably offended now. He’d gone out of his way to help her anyway. Any other vamp surly would have taken advantage of a hurt and impregnated slayer. And it couldn’t just be the chip that directed his actions either, because he’d caught her before she’d hit the ground, then taken her all the way to the maternity ward. The chip just meant he couldn’t hurt her, it didn’t force him to help her. But he had.


And little as she liked to admit it, Spike had helped her of his own accord. Again. And she didn’t know what that meant.


.....................................................................

Joyce had taken the news of her pregnancy a lot better than Buffy could ever have hoped for.


Her mother’s tight embrace had encircled her with a glowing expression of love and pride as she smoothed her hand over the belly that was finally beginning to swell.


“A baby girl.” Joyce mused lovingly, “I can barely hope to believe it Buffy.”


“You’re not mad?” her daughter murmured, snuggling deeper into her mother’s embrace, “Not mad at me?”


“Oh, how could I be Buffy?” she asked, stroking her daughter’s blond hair lovingly, “You have to live every moment of your life to the fullest Buffy, and I always hated the idea of you never knowing what it is to be a mother.”


Buffy felt tears well a little in her eyes, and she clung to her mother tightly.


“I love you mom.” she said, “I love you so much. You don’t know what it means to me to have your approval.”


Joyce stroked her daughter’s soft hair, soothing away the pain she knew she must be feeling. “I love you Buffy.” she replied, “And nothing you do could ever change that. This... This is all going to work out.”


“You’re going to be a grandmother.” Buffy added, pulling back to smile up at her mother, who frowned with concern at her daughter’s wetted cheeks.


“How many months gone are you baby?” she asked, smoothing a hand over her soft forehead.


“Six.” Buffy said, the happy glint shinning in her eyes once more. “The doctor said that she’s pretty small, considering how far along I am, but she’s healthy.”


“Six months?” Joyce asked, incredulous. “And you didn’t notice?” she added in a teasing voice.


Buffy laughed slightly, shaking her head. “It was Spike.” she said, and at her mother’s surprised and pleased look, she quickly amended; “I mean it was Spike who realised that I was pregnant.” her face flushed as she said, “Not who... You know.”


Joyce laughed, shaking her head. “My mistake.” she said earnestly, “Was it Spike who took you to the hospital?”


Buffy nodded.


“He’s a good man.” Joyce said, giving her daughter another tight squeeze as a knowing expression crossed her face, “He always has been in my eyes.”


Buffy rolled her eyes, almost laughing aloud at the obvious pitch her mother was going for.


“I know mom.” she said. “You’ve been president of the ‘We Love Spike’ fan club for the at least three years now.”


“A club that’s sadly lacking in numbers.” Joyce said, watching her daughter closely, and smiling when she sighed with faux exasperation.


“I’m not saying that I’m ready to be a fully subscribed member,” Buffy said, “But I might just attend a meeting. You know, check it out. See what its all about.” she looked her mother in the eyes as she said, “I’m going to give... The Club... A chance, mom.”


Joyce nodded, satisfied with the answer.


“Good.” she folded her arms across her chest, “Now, don’t you think it’s about time you went and told those friends of yours about your rather delicate condition?”

....................................................................

Two hours later the Slayer returned home, tears streaking her cheeks as she sought her mother, desperate to tell her how terribly wrong things had gone with her friends. How truly un-understanding they’d been about the situation that her mother and mortal enemy had been genuinely thrilled about.


“Mom!” she yelled, heading toward the stairs, “Mom, you here?”


The sight of shattered glass on the kitchen floor, by the door, caught her attention and she jogged through the living room and round the corner.


She stumbled to a stop, her hand flying to her opened mouth in shock as her eyes fell on her unconscious mother, lying sprawled on the floor like a doll.


“Mommy?” she whispered as dull and unfocused eyes stared up at her, unmoving.

...................................................................

Buffy threw the door to his crypt open, feeling the pain of rejection, and the fear of being alone, burning inside of her. “Spike!” she cried out, grasping the doorframe as she panted slightly from the distance she’d run in her panic. “Spike?”


Silence met her calls and she blinked back tears as she realised he must be out. Her only confidant and he was out.


Tears slipped unheeded down her cheeks as she realised again just how truly alone she was in all this. Her friends... She couldn’t believe they’d react in such a way. And with her mother in hospital, and Dawn staying with Janice... God, she’d never felt so alone in all her life.


“Spike?” she tried a final time, already knowing that she wouldn’t be able to go home like this, and face the empty and dark house.


Her feet carried her toward the dirty sofa sitting before the television in one dark corner of his crypt, and she fell in a heap on top of its dusty cushions. Sighing, she flicked the TV on, desperate to hear the warm voices she craved, and slowly she drifted off to sleep. A curled up ball on Spike’s couch.


And that was how he found her when he returned four hours later.


“Slayer?” he asked, causing her to stir, “You been here all night?”


She sat up, rubbing her eyes as she looked up at him. “What time is it?” she asked.


“Just after sun-up.” he told her, his voice quiet. “Were you looking for me?” She nodded mutely and he frowned, kneeling down beside her as glittering tears swamped her chestnut eyes. “What is it?”


“It’s...” she looked down, “My friends weren’t so happy to hear about the baby.”


“They weren’t?” he asked, astounded.


She shook her head. “Giles said the Slayer can’t afford to have children.” she rubbed her sore eyes once more. “He told me to get an abortion, and when I told him it was too late he flipped out.”


“And the others?” Spike asked, his voice disgusted.


“They called me stupid.” she whispered, clearly distraught. “They told me to call Riley, and when I told them that I couldn’t, they yelled at me so much I had no choice but to leave.”


She climbed down from the sofa and slumped on the floor next to Spike, allowing him to take her hand into his own.


“Mom was taken into hospital last night.” she murmured, her gaze on the floor. “Dawnie went to stay with a friend.” she felt Spike’s hand caressing hers. “I didn’t know where else to go.”


“I don’t know if it’s a comfort to you pet, but I’ll always be here.” he said as he placed another gentle hand on the bump that was her growing child, “You don’t need to worry about being alone.”


Buffy felt her eyes well with tears and the hand that rested on the floor beside her raised slowly to touch his face. She could trust him; she knew she could.


“You mean it?” she asked softly, insecurities slipping through non-the less as she finally looked up into his eyes.


“I mean it pet. I do.” he kissed the top of her head, wishing he had the courage to tell her just how much he truly loved her. “And your friends... They’ll come around in time. They’re just confused.”


Buffy nodded, staring forward across his dim crypt.


“Thank you.” she said. “For everything.”

.....................................................................................

Stuck in reverse


She felt strong arms around her as she woke, and she snuggled deeper into the embrace. God, she missed being held like this; it felt so damn good. To be safe but not smothered the way she was so used to.


For a while her memory and mind were both empty; blank, and she simply enjoyed the silent comfort of feeling someone else’s breath against her cheek, lulling her back toward sleep.


She must be wearing the shirt, the one the vampire had given her all those days ago, because she could smell it again. The scent she’d often woken surrounded by. She could smell it, and it comforted her. Reminded her of safety, security, home.


She felt a hand brushing hair away from her temple and her eyelids fluttered open. Electric blue eyes met hers in a warm gaze, and she instantly jolted awake.


“Spike?” she asked, her mind still wonky.


“Shush pet, it’s alright.” he said, sitting up and bringing her with him. “You fell asleep s’all.”


Her hand instantly fell to her swollen belly and she sighed with relief as she felt the tiny bundle still growing beneath her splayed fingers. She looked down slowly, slightly embarrassed by the vampire’s presence; then she hastily remembered where she’d been laying just moments ago, and her face flared up a self-conscious red.


She’d been sleeping, not just in his presence, but in his arms. Sleeping like a baby in the arms of the vampire who’d proven himself to be so much more than just her mortal enemy, and on several different occasions.


She wondered why it had felt so very right.


“What time is it?” she asked, still unable to meet his eyes.


“Just gone noon.” he told her, “You hungry?”


She shook her head but he was already out of the chair and seeking out some left-over wheatabix.


“It’ll do you good.” he said, holding out the bowl of mushy brown-ness. “I normally mix it with blood. S’why I have it at all- but you really didn’t need to know that and- ah.”


Buffy smiled at him as he twittered on, and she almost laughed as she snatched the bowl off of him.


“Its fine Spike.” she said, spooning some into her mouth. “See- healthy meal for the pregnant lady.”


“It’s an attractive look.” Spike agreed as she shovelled the brown mush into her mouth.


“Hey.” she said, dropping her spoon and crossing her arms, “I know sarcasm when I hear it mister.”


He scoffed at her, and she smiled; enjoying the banter that was the exact opposite to the calm serenity they’d been sharing just a few moments earlier. This was what she was used to, and normality was what she was craving right now, following the cruel rejection she’d faced at the hands of her friends.


Spike noticed the sadness that suddenly permeated the air, and he stepped a little closer to where she was sitting, hesitantly putting a hand on her shoulder. When she didn’t immediately pull away, he hazarded the small indiscretion of sitting down beside her.


“Want me to take you to see your mum in a bit?” he asked, dropping his hand from her shoulder. “We could pick the Niblet up on the way.”


Buffy nodded emphatically as she spooned the last lumps of wheatabix into her mouth, then she wiped her lips and looked at Spike.


“Thank you.” she told him.


...........................................................................


Buffy embraced her sleeping mother, burying her face in her blankets as she closed her eyes, inhaling the comforting scent that was entirely her mom.


“Buffy.” asked a weary voice, and the young Slayer felt a hand in her hair. “Are you okay sweetheart?”


“Now.” Buffy said, her voice muffled by the blankets surrounding her face. “Had a sucky night yesterday is all. Are you okay?”


“I’m fine .” Joyce assured her, stroking Buffy’s golden hair affectionately, “Just in overnight for observation...” her voice trailed off as she urged her daughter to sit back and look at her. “I’m sorry I scared you honey.” she said. “I really am. It was the last thing you needed.”


“Mom,” Buffy said, “Don’t worry about it. Your only concerns should be about you right now. Are you sure you’re okay?”


“I’m fine.” Joyce emphasised. “Perfectly healthy.” Buffy nodded. “Was Dawn okay when she got home?”


“She stayed around Janice’s.” Buffy said.


“Oh- You were home alone?”


Buffy’s eyes flicked away as she said, almost nervously, “Actually, I went to Spike’s.” she met Joyce’s eyes, and despite the smile on her motherly face, the young Slayer instantly felt the need to justify, “I... I was just lonely and crazy- my friends, they didn’t take the baby news so well- like, about as badly as they could have actually, and Spike... Well, you know; he doesn’t judge me. I mean sure, he’s been bad in the past, tried to kill me a couple of times, but at least he’s up front about it. And he’s never been anything but happy for me about the baby. So... So I just thought... Well, where else was I going to go? I needed to talk to someone and-”


“Buffy.” her mother interrupted, smiling as she shook her head. “It’s okay honey. Really. I’m just glad to hear you were safe. I wouldn’t have wanted you to be at home on your own.”


Buffy stared at her mother for a few moments. And then she smiled.


“Dawn and Spike would really like to see you.” she said eventually.


..............................................................................


Joyce returned home that evening, escorted back in Spike’s Desoto with her two daughters arguing over the front seat. In the end Buffy won on account of her pregnancy, but Dawn didn’t go down easily, and the teenager would have sulked all the way home, but Spike stopped for ice cream and bought her a huge tub of chocolate fudge brownie flavour all for herself.


While Dawn was happily scooping away at her ice cream on the back seat, occasionally offering some to her weary mother, the front of the car remained in a comfortable silence, with Spike concentrating on his driving, and Buffy absent-mindedly stroking her belly.


“You okay Slayer?” the vampire asked eventually, “Car warm enough for you and the little-un?”


“Sure Spike.” she replied, glancing over at him. “It’s fine.”


Spike turned to meet her eyes, and they both smiled; sharing a long moment of silence.


But then the tranquillity was shattered as Dawn screamed-


“Spike Look Out!” and his eyes flew back to the road, in time to see the attractive blond smashing into the front of his Desoto.


“Oh my God!” Buffy cried as the woman was thrown through the air. “Spike, stop; we have to call an ambulance!”


The car screeched to a stop and the three Summers women had thrown off their seat belts and departed the car in an instant, running towards the fallen body of the blond woman.


“My gosh, are you okay?” Joyce cried as they neared her, but Buffy was the first to falter as the woman began to rise, cursing to herself.


“Frickin’ Hell, what is wrong with these mortals. If I’ve broken a nail then I’ll be taking legal action.”


“Guys wait.” Buffy called as her mother and sister drew closer to the woman who was evidently becoming more and more agile. “Mom, Dawn; get back here now.”


“Ahh, Buffy Buffy Buffy.” the woman said, turning around with a flick of her curly blond hair. She smoothed her hands down over her dress and gave her nails a quick once over. “So I have a friend.” she finally stated, looking up at the Slayer, who had been joined by a vampire (who seemed to be oozing far too much protectiveness for normality) and the rest of her family.


“Really.” Buffy asked, trying to sound disinterested, whilst concealing her fear effectively.


“Buffy, who is this?” Joyce asked.


“It’s Glory.” Dawn quickly informed her in a hushed voice.


“Yes, I have a friend.” Glory said, rolling her eyes. “And his name is Ben.” she strolled over to the vampire’s car, enjoying the sense of power she was alluding as she splayed herself across the bonnet, crossing her legs slowly and seductively. Her eyes narrowed slightly to a glare when the vampire showed no signs of arousal what-so-ever at her little show.


“Ben?” Buffy repeated, confused.


“Yes. He’s a doctor. And he tells me...” Glory smiled, taking pleasure in drawing out her revelation, “He tells me the Slayer is pregnant. Almost six months gone.”


Buffy crossed her arms defensively, and didn’t protest as Spike moved to stand in front of her; his face set with determination. If this woman tried anything, she was as good as dead.


“Oh please,” Glory sneered, glaring at the stupid vampire. “Like you could-”


“If you touch her. I’ll kill you.”


The Hell bitch looked extremely pissed at having been interrupted, and she thumped her fist down on the bonnet of Spike’s Desoto, smiling with satisfaction at the flinch that crossed his face as she dented its vintage paint work.


“Well, if there was any doubt, you’ve just confirmed that little miss Buffy really is pregnant.”


“So what if I am?” the Slayer demanded, glaring defiantly at Glory from behind her vampiric protector. “You think I’d let you hurt my-”


“Ah ah ah.” Glory tutted. “Not yours girl. Mine.”


The Hell God smiled evilly at the look of confusion and evident fear that washed Buffy’s features.


“Do you know what else happened six months ago Buffy?” Glory asked, her eyes glinting with her superior knowledge. “Well, do you?”


Buffy stared at her.


“Monks. They took my key and they hid it. They gave it human form.”


Buffy’s hand fell to her stomach, and she frowned, her heart thumping in her chest. She knew it wasn’t true. She knew Dawn was the key. But the look of conviction on Glory’s face told her just how strongly the Hell God believed her own words, and the Slayer backed away slowly.


“You’re wrong.” the young woman said, tears collecting in her eyes. “She isn’t the key.”


“She’s not the key.” Spike repeated; fires blazing in his eyes.


Dawn made to take a step forward, ready to confess her true identity to the Hell-bitch who surly would kill her; but Spike growled, instantly sensing her movement and inconspicuously pushing her back behind him and pinning her there with strong arms.


“No.” he hissed.


Glory mistook Dawn’s movement as an attempt to protect her sister and the unborn child, and she laughed harshly.


“Little girl, I could crush you like an ant. You’re entire existence is meaningless to me.”


“Dawn- get out of here now. Mom; go with her.” neither of the women moved, and Buffy turned around, yelling “Go!”


“Slayer-” Spike started, but Buffy interrupted.


“Spike, I need you right here. Please.”


I need you.


“Right.” Spike agreed, maintaining his protective position in front of the Slayer. He raised his fists, and then spoke directly to Glory, “If you even try to hurt her-”


“Please.” Glory said sarcastically. “I need my key alive or it just won’t work, which means, until little key-face is born, you’re stupid Slayer is safe.”


Spike’s eyes narrowed into an intense glare and he prepared to-


But then she was gone from sight.


“Buffy...” Joyce said, “Are you okay sweet heart?”


“She thinks my baby is the key.” Buffy replied, not really answering her mother’s question at all. “She’s going to take her. As soon as she’s born, she’s going to take her.”


“Not going to happen.” Spike said.


And he caught the beautiful Slayer as she collapsed with her despair. Collapsed right into his waiting arms.


“We have to get her home.” he said absently. “Niblet, get the car door. Mum, make sure nothing’s broken.”


The two females nodded, beginning their assessment of the car, then helping Spike to place Buffy gently down on the front seat.


“Spike...” Dawn whispered as he stroked hair away from his Slayers face. “Glory’s so big and scary... What are we going to do?”


“We’re going to protect her.” Spike said. “There will be spells and... And...”


Buffy’s eyelids flickered a little, and she murmured. “And Spike is going to move in.”

.................................................................

None of the Summers women protested when Spike made a detour to his crypt on the way back to their home. And none of the Summers women were confused or alarmed when he ran back out to the car three minutes later carrying a bag, with his duster slung over his shoulder.


Nor did any of the Summers women question him when he got back into the car and drove on to Rovello Drive without saying a single word.


He moved into the basement that night, setting himself up a training room so he could get into better shape in anticipation of Glory’s attack. Somewhere along the line, a plan formed for Spike, Buffy and her family to get out of town just as soon as the baby was born, for fear of what the Hell God would do to them if they stayed. Buffy knew this meant possibly never seeing her high school friends ever again, but she had to put her family first.


If they couldn’t accept her daughter, then they were going to have to be left behind.


She and Spike were fully capable of protecting the baby once she was born, Dawn needed to be protected from Glory just as much as Buffy’s unborn child did, and Joyce could never be left behind.


So now Spike was spending his days and his nights, training in the basement in preparation for the coming battle.


A battle he knew he would fight to the death.


“Don’t you get tired?” came a voice from the top of the stairs, and Spike flinched as the surprise threw him off balance, causing him to slam his fist into the wall, which cracked upon impact. “Oh God, sorry!” Buffy cried, attempting to run down the steps to his side, but managing nothing more than a rather undignified waddle. “Are you okay?” she asked, catching his now bleeding fist in her hands and checking it over quickly.


“Slayer...” Spike said, and she dropped his hand in an instant.


“Sorry.” she said, backing away a little, as if she thought he was annoyed by her invasion of his personal space (which he really wasn’t), “It’s just my mothering instinct making itself known again. I tell you, my hormones are all over the place right now.”


Spike chuckled, running a hand through his hair and shaking the perspiration from his neck and face. “S’okay love. S’a little bit adorable.”


“Shut up.” Buffy said, pushing him in the shoulder, “You know that anyone this fat is completely incapable of being adorable.”


It was true, she really had gotten huge over the previous few weeks, and months of pregnancy had finally caught up with her. Not that it did anything to diminish her intense beauty.


“Adorable.” he mocked, dancing out of the way as she tried to hit him with angry fists. “Adorable and fat.”


“Shut up!” she moaned. “You big idiot.”


“Harsh.” Spike stated. “Anyone would think that I wasn’t putting my arse on the line for you and your little unborn one. Running away with you.”


Buffy, embarrassed by the mention of everything he was doing and had done so willingly for her, tried to make light of the situation as she said. “You’re not here by choice Spike.”


When he looked suddenly hurt by her words, she quickly realised how bad her sentence must have sounded, and she laughed as she said.


“I mean you’re not here by you’re own choice. You’re like a hostage.”


“A hostage?” he repeated, eyebrow raising as he realised she hadn’t meant to hurt him.


“Yep, you couldn’t leave this house even if you wanted to.” she said, smile tugging at his lips. “The Summers women aren’t letting you go that easily. Ever again.” then she tapped her fist gently against his arm in mimic of their many fights. “You’re a part of this family Spike.”


The feeling of her hot hand against his arm sent a rush of life through his veins, and his eyes lit up as she smiled at him with what looked like affection.


“Well I’m gonna leave you to the little sweat-pit you got goin’ on down here, but mom told me to tell you to just come on up if you feel like some cocoa, or a bit of a gossip with Dawnie.”


She smiled at him again, and then he watched her waddle back up the stairs adorably; a genuine smile of his own spread across his face.


Goddamit; he loved her so much.

................................................................


Buffy was in her eighth month of pregnancy when Joyce started feeling ill again. The older woman wanted to stay by her daughter’s side to ensure she was safe, but at Buffy’s insistence, she went back into hospital for further tests.


The doctors wanted to keep her in for longer, but the mother of two told them she had better things to do, and discharged herself, telling her daughters and Spike that the tests had come up clear, and she was perfectly healthy.


“That’s great mom.” Buffy said, wrapping her arms around the eternal comfort that was her mother, and feeling Dawn embrace her from the other side.


The three women stood in that close embrace for several moments, basking in the comfort and silence of family unit. And then they all looked at Spike, who stood a few feet away, gazing at them with something which looked a little bit like envy, though it was almost completely swamped by an intense look of love.


“Spike, come here.” Joyce said, holding her arms out to him.


“Glad you’re okay mum.” he said, looking down and allowing her to wrap her arms around him. Feeling nothing but love for each of the heartbeats he could hear within the four walls around them. “I love you mum.”


“I love you too William. We all do.” she held him a little tighter. “I know you’ll make an incredible father. I know you’ll never ever let my daughter down.


And one month later, Joyce was rushed back into hospital.

.....................................................................


After Buffy reached her ninth month of pregnancy, her temper seemed to be worn as thin as the punching bag Spike was practicing on, and her fear of what would happen to her daughter after she was born, mingled with concern for her hospitalised mother, had turned her into an angry overloaded hormone time bomb, which unfortunately, often seemed to explode all over Spike.


He got used to it quickly.


“Spike!” she yelled, throwing her hands up, “Just back off- I’m so not in the mood for you!”


“S’always gotta be about you pet hasn’t it.” he retorted, stepping away from her anyway.


“Don’t ‘pet’ me!” she yelled, her face red with rage as she glared at him. Spike noticed the look on her face slowly change as her sentence repeated itself in her head, and he wondered whether it was safe to go back to their usual joking.


“Don’t pet you?” he repeated, eyebrow raising surreptitiously.


The slight smile dropped from her face, and the glare reappeared with a vengeance.


“Shut up you stupid idiot.”


Spike raised his hands, deciding not to take any offence to her hormone-induced rage, and taking a step back from her.


She took another step toward him; a finger raised in accusation as she glared at him with a burning hatred.


“Do you know why I really hate you?” she asked, ignoring his slight flinch which he tried, unsuccessfully, to cover with a shrug. “Because you’re so gutless.” she declared. “And because you’re my enemy and you think you have the right to hang around. You think I want you here, just because I don’t have anyone else.”


“If you want me to go love, you know that I will.”


Slight panic flashed in her eyes, but she quickly tried to hide it, whilst reasoning; “No. You’re not getting away that easily, you worthless little crap. I need someone to scream at after all.”


Spike sighed. “Fine; you do what you like Summers.”


“I fully intend to.” she announced, crossing her arms. “If I want to stake you, then I will. If I want to punch you-” a fist landed square on his jaw, knocking him to the ground, “-Then I will.”


She stood over him, glaring whole-heartedly, when suddenly she grasped her stomach, her face contorting with pain as she whispered “Spike...”


Anger all but forgotten, he was at her side in an instant.


“Buffy love...”


They both glanced down at the puddle of water that had formed between her legs, and Buffy flushed with embarrassment.


“Hey now pet,” Spike said instantly, his hand raising without thought to her shoulder, “Don’t be embarrassed love. Baby’s on her way.”


“My waters?”


“Broken.” he swept the hair off her shoulder, the smile grand on his face as she allowed him to do this, “Come on Slayer. Let’s get you to my car. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”


When she didn’t move, he looked back at her, and was surprised to recognise the fear in her eyes.


“Slayer?”


“Will... Will you stay with me when we get there?” she asked, her eyes dipping down as if she feared he’d refuse. As if he wouldn’t do anything for her. “I don’t wanna be alone, and since mom’s in hospital and all of my friends are mad at me-”


“Not all your friends Buffy.” he replied, and she didn’t miss the significance of his comment. Silence surrounded them for a few moments, until eventually he said. “You know I’ll stay with you love. As long as you want me to.”


“I want you to. I do.” she grabbed his hand, “You know I don’t mean any of it. You know that Spike.”


“I know that.” he agreed, though truthfully he hadn’t known at all.


“I need you Spike; I really do. You know I would have died without your help; me and my baby, and more than once too.” her eyes averted once more and nodding at the door, she asked “Can we go now?”


..........................................................................


“Can you tell my mom?” she asked, looking at Spike as the nurse led her to the sterile looking bed, “Can you tell her my baby’s on her way?”


“Sure.” he said, taking her hand and helping her onto the bed, before turning to leave. “I’ll be right back love.”


She squeezed her eyes tight shut, nodding, and waiting for him to come back.


It didn’t take him long.


“She’s delighted love.” he told her, “Wouldn’t bloody stop kissing me.” he added, causing Buffy to giggle, then wince with pain as another contraction made itself known to her.


“Are you in much pain love?” he asked, kneeling by her side and taking her hand into hers. “Do you want to have something to make it go away?”


She shook her head, gripping his hand. “No. It’s almost...” she paused, then sighed with relief. “Over.” she smiled at him then, her hand loosening from around his, “I can handle it Spike. Don’t you worry about me.”


He smiled at her, ghosting his hand across her cheek, and he knew. It’d all be okay now.


“Can you call Dawn?” Buffy whispered. And he smiled.


“Already did it.” he told her. And her smile matched his.


“You realise you’re perfect, right?” Buffy asked, raising a hand to his neck, and pulling him toward her. “Perfect.” she added, letting her lips melt onto his cheek for the briefest second. Then, to his ear she whispered. “Promise me you’ll always be here with me.”

And the tears come streaming down your face



Buffy placed the tiny bundle into his arms and Spike gazed down into the scrunched up face of the love of his life’s daughter.


“She’s perfect.” were the only words he could manage, his unneeded breath hitching in his throat as his eyes worked out each of her precious features and stored them to his memory. “So perfect.”


His eyes slowly drifted back to Buffy who was staring up at him contentedly, her arms laying gently atop the pink comforter as she watched him cradling her child.


Strange that she didn’t feel the slightest concern about the supposed monster she was allowing to hold her new-born baby; quite the opposite in fact, she felt beyond comforted by the image of his strong arms wrapped around her delicate little form.


“Do you think?” she enquired in response to his statement.


“More than perfect Buffy.” he replied. “She’s your daughter.”


The young Slayer smiled at that, her face flushing with happiness.


“My daughter.” she agreed, her eyes closing with exhaustion. “Our baby girl.”


Spike held the tiny person close to his still heart, smiling softly as he leant forward to press a gentle kiss to his exhausted Slayer’s forehead.


“I’ll take care of you both.” he whispered against her skin, “I promise you. I promise.”


“I believe you,” she breathed back, though later Spike would tell himself it was merely the exhaustion talking. “I trust you Spike.”


“I’m glad.”


He climbed onto her bed beside her and gently placed her baby back into her arms; touching her tiny face in wonderment. It was strange, how completely she looked like her mother; beautiful.


Buffy curled her body into his, moving the baby so she was held protectively between them both and making Spike feel warmer than he ever had before. The fact that she was not only accepting his presence beside her, but quite openly welcoming it was... Well, incredible.


“What are you going to call her?” he murmured, his hand drifting from the baby’s face to the Slayer’s soft hair. She didn’t seem to notice his indiscretion.


“I was thinking...” Buffy said, her eyebrows scrunching with the importance of the decision, “Maybe Caitlin.”


Spike smiled; loving the tiny girl’s name already.


“It’s perfect.” he said, “What does it mean?”


She looked up at him; her green eyes pooling in his with strange new emotions.


“I don’t know.” she admitted, her voice carelessly happy, “Does it have to mean something?”


“Of course not.”


“I just saw it in a bridal magazine once,” she justified, her eyes still in his, “I liked it since then; I just never thought I’d get the chance to use it; get the chance to name a child of my very own.”


He cupped her cheek gently, smile in place.


“Well you did.” he said. “And I think Caitlin is the perfect name for this little chit.”


Buffy smiled happily, her hand rising to meet his, sending a jolt of electricity through his body.


“Oh my God!” cried an excited voice, and Buffy and Spike both glanced up in time to see Dawn come hurtling through the door. “Baby baby baby?” she asked; her eyes flying between the two of them, “My God, she’s so adorable! She’s tiny! Oh Buffy, can I hold her?”


Buffy smiled warmly, looking from Spike to her younger sister.


“Of course.” She said, nodding her over. “But hush Dawnie, she’s sleeping.”


“Oh!” Dawn whispered, huge grin in place, and she crawled onto the bed t squeeze in between Spike and Buffy, before holding her arms out for her tiny niece.


Buffy placed the pink mass into Dawn’s arms and the fifteen year old was immediately sated.


“Oh…” she said, her face flushing a little with happiness. “Buffy, she’s beautiful.”


“Isn’t she?” Spike agreed, and Buffy beamed.


“Have you named her?”


“Caitlin.” Buffy replied, her eyes beginning to drift closed.


Spike smiled, reaching his arm around Dawn to grasp Buffy’s shoulder.


And then the three of them lay there together, a picture of happiness, embraced on Buffy’s hospital bed.


……………………………………………………


A doctor came in a short while later, though Spike couldn’t be sure of the precise time since they had all fallen asleep, and the grave look on his face managed to startle Spike back to full consciousness.


“What is it?” the vampire asked, trying to read the man’s expression. “Something wrong with the little one?”


The doctor looked at the sleeping sisters, then lowered his gaze, saying,


“Perhaps I could speak with you briefly,” sending chills of fear into Spike’s heart.


He untangled himself from the Summers’ girls, getting to his feet quietly so as not to wake them, and privately dreading whatever it was the doctor had to say.


“What’s wrong?” Spike said as soon as they were outside of the hospital room. He addressed his question to the doctor, though his eyes were still rooted on the sleeping Slayer and her family. His family.


Not willing to look away for even a moment, lest something happen to one of them.


“Is it Buffy? Is Caitlin okay?”


“I’m afraid this may come as some what of a shock,” the doctor said, his voice laced with sincere apology, “Sadly, Joyce Summers passed away during the night.”


Spike’s rooted eyes were suddenly blurred.


He didn’t hear the words. They didn’t make sense to him.


“What?”


“Her condition had continued to worsen, and since she refused any further tests or observation, she-”


“Wait… Wait a minute,” Spike said, his brow crinkling, “She refused…?”


“She was thinking of her daughter.” The doctor said, and he too was looking at the young mother and her new-born child. “As I said, her condition worsened drastically last night, and she passed away around midnight.”


“But I… I spoke to her.” Spike said, his voice suddenly desperate. This was wrong, it had to be! Buffy had just given birth, her mother couldn’t be gone now. Not when she needed her, “I saw her yesterday. I told her Buffy had gone into labour!”


The doctor nodded sadly, and Spike finally looked him fully in the face.


“She was so happy for her.” The doctor said, his voice kindly, “Be happy she lived long enough to know.” Then he placed a gentle hand on the vampire’s shoulder, “I believe she was holding on just to hear that her daughter had given birth. That everything was okay.”


Spike looked down as tears threatened to spill.


Not Joyce. Not his mum.


“Do you want me to tell her daughters?” the doctors asked, and Spike shook his head.


“No… No.” he said. “I… I should tell them.”


The doctor nodded, and then he looked at the slumbering girls once more.


“That’s a beautiful baby girl you have in there,” he said, his voice soft, “Be thankful that she is alright. You’re lucky.”


“I know.” Spike said, though thoughts of his surrogate mother kept him from feeling anywhere near ‘lucky’.


“I’m… I’m sorry.” The doctor said finally, ready to leave Spike on his own again. “If it consoles you at all to know, Joyce did slip away peacefully, and she was undeniably happy in her final hours.”


Somehow, these words only managed to deepen the pain Spike felt, as if they somehow made the whole situation that little bit more true, and he allowed himself a soft sob for the mother he had loved dearly.


The doctor was gone.


He looked back at his girls.


Dawn was moving in her sleep, her arm curling around Buffy and the tiny baby. Buffy’s face was simply beautiful, and her soft smile made Spike’s heart ache.


But he had to be the one to tell them.


They were his to look after now. All three of them. His.


“Buffy love,” he said softly as he walked back into her room, “Lil’ Bit, are you awake pet?”


The pretty girls blinked slightly, and Spike reached down to take the newest Summers child into his arms. He cradled her small form against him, then sat down at the end of Buffy’s bed.


Dawn grinned, stretching her limbs out as she sat up. “We fell asleep,” she all but giggled, looking over at Buffy who smiled back at her. “There’s a novelty that we’ll be missing out on as soon as we get my baby niece back home.”


She said it even though she knew they wouldn’t be going home.


And Buffy smiled back at her sister, even though she knew that soon enough they’d be running for their lives, doing what ever it took to stay one step ahead of Glory.


Still, she smiled sleepily, not wanting to think about any of that just yet.


She looked at Spike. His eyes were down-cast and he looked pensive, so she reached out and tapped his with a small fist.


“Smile please, Mr party-pooper.” She said, grinning at him, “Everything worked out remember? So far so good.”


And, oh God! To her utter surprise, he began to cry! Not weeping with huge ghastly sobs, but just letting his eyes rest on her as silver tears slipped over his hollow cheek bones. She stared at him with shock as he silently grieved, and it filled her with a sense of protectiveness.


“Spike.” She said, pushing herself onto her knees so she could wrap her arms around him with a tentative hug, “Sweetie, its okay. Everything is okay.”


She didn’t know where the words of comfort were coming from, but they seemed like the most natural thing in the world.


Instinctual, almost.


Spike let his head rest against her shoulder, inhaling her scent as she just held him.


Dawn watched, awe-struck, unable to even contemplate what she was seeing. The wonder of the Slayer and the Vampire supporting each other before her very eyes. Her sister and her best friend.


“Spike,” Buffy pulled back to look at him, her eyes full of question marks as she raised an enthralled hand to wipe his silent tears away, “What’s wrong?”


He looked down as he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Then he forced his eyes up again, “Girls, I’m so sorry.”


“Sorry for what?” Dawn asked, edging closer as she stared at the broken vampire.


“Spike, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Buffy added, her hand still rested on his cheek.


He shook his head. No.


Buffy felt her heart clench.


“What’s going on?” she whispered as she watched Spike’s eyes dip down once more.


Dawn touched his arm. Buffy’s warm hand remained on his cheek. Caitlin lay cradled in his arms.


“Joyce… Your mum…” he said, feeling the support of the girls around him, “…she passed away in her sleep last night.”


Neither Buffy nor Dawn responded.


“She… She died.”


Buffy’s hand slipped away, her head turning from Spike as she shook it in refusal.


“No…” she whispered, feeling her heart falling apart. “No. You’re… You’re wrong.”


“You’re wrong.” Dawn agreed, her face crimson. “You’re wrong.”


Spike felt the tears Buffy had wiped from his cheeks, reappear once more as he experienced their pain.


“You’re…” Buffy wanted to accuse him of lying, but the words stuck on her tongue as she realised. He wouldn’t lie to her. And he’d certainly never deliberately hurt her. She turned to look at him, to witness his silent tears. And she shook her head again as their eyes met, “No, please no.” she whimpered as she moved closer to him. His arm wound around her slight form and her face pressed against his shoulder. “Please tell me it’s not true.”


Spike just held her, letting her weep. He reached a hand out and grasped Dawn’s, their fingers intertwining.


“I’m so sorry love. Pet.” He said to them both as they cried against him. “I’m so, so sorry.”


………………………………………………………………


It was several hours later when the crying had lessened, and the three girls, along with their vampire protector, had fallen back into a heart-broken sleep.


And it was yet another doctor who woke them.


“Buffy!”


Yelled the doctor she knew as ‘Ben’, as he came storming into the room with no regard for the family’s privacy.


“You have to leave- now!”


Buffy woke with a start, and she looked at Ben with confused fear, while Spike shifted in front of his love protectively.


“She’s entitled to-”


“No! You have to trust me. She knows- she’s coming here now!”


And suddenly Buffy remembered Glory’s words:


“Yes, I have a friend.” Glory said, rolling her eyes. “And his name is Ben. He’s a doctor. And he tells me...” Glory smiled, taking pleasure in drawing out her revelation, “He tells me the Slayer is pregnant. Almost six months gone.”


“It was you!” Buffy cried, instantly accusational, “It was you who told-”


“No,” Ben said, “It’s not my fault. But there’s no time to explain all that now. Glory knows and she’s coming. You have to get out of here now.”


“Right.” Spike said, not needing to be told twice as he was immediately on his feet, grabbing supplies and shoving them into a bag. “Dawn, grab as many disposable nappies as you can. Buffy, are you alright? Can you manage with Caitlin?”


“I’m fine.” She replied as she struggled to her feet, still beyond exhausted.


“Hurry!” Ben added, and Spike pushed him out of the room, slamming the door in his face.


“Okay pet,” he said, pulling the Slayer’s arm over his shoulder. “We’re ready. We’ve gotta go now, so anything else-”


“Mom…” Buffy said, looking up at him, “I… We won’t have time to say… Goodbye.”


Spike felt tears biting at his eyelids again, and he looked down as he said


“She’d understand pet.”


Buffy just nodded, taking her younger sister’s hand.


“Of course.” She said. “We have to move. You’re right.”


Spike led her over to the small plastic crib, and scooped the Slayer’s sleeping daughter into his arms, before passing her back to Buffy.


“Are you alright holding her?” Spike asked, and Buffy nodded emphatically. “Then it’s time we got out of here.”


………………………………………………………


Spike glanced over at Buffy.


She was asleep.


Dawn too.


And nestled between them was the hastily-acquired baby seat which held the tiny form of Buffy’s daughter. Also asleep.


For the first time in hours, Spike allowed himself to feel content.


They were going to be okay: all of them. He’d make sure of that.


Buffy stirred in her sleep, and Spike glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. Somehow, she was managing to look back at his reflection-less self, and she smiled.


“You okay?”


“I’m fine.”


“Good.”


“Good.”


And that was the precise moment that Buffy realised that feeling safe with Spike was now something that came naturally to her.


She took a moment to ponder what had happened to the scheming, evil vampire who had threatened her very life, not to mention the lives of those she loved around her. And as she thought about his dramatic change, she also realised that his past no longer mattered.


He was now, who he was now.


And that was Spike. Her ally. Her confidant. Her protector. Her friend.


She smiled at him, and he smiled back, unaware of the direction her thoughts were taking.


“So where’s the next stop?” Buffy asked, sitting forward so she could rest her chin on the back of Spike’s chair. Spike smiled, taking great comfort in her close proximity, before saying,


“Wherever you like pet,” another smile, “I figure the more distance we can put between us and Sunny Hell, the better. But the final destination is pretty much an unmade decision right now.”


“I always wanted to travel to Europe.” Buffy said, and Spike didn’t miss the slightly wistful edge to her tone. “London, Paris, Berlin. All those places seem so distant and enchanted to me.”


“Europe it is then.”


Buffy rolled her eyes. “Please,” she said, “Spike- you really think this is the right time for site-seeing?”


But the vampire just laughed, keeping his eyes on the road. “You know, I never would have taken you for the touristy-type Summers, but it seems I’ve never gotten to know you as well as I might’ve hoped.” He paused before saying, “You deserve the chance to see Europe love, and if that’s where you want to go, then that’s where-”


Spike’s sentence was dramatically cut-off as an arrow smashed through the passenger window, piercing his shoulder and effectively pinning him to his chair.


“Spike!”


“Bloody Hell!”


The car swerved, and Spike attempted to maintain control, whilst grasping desperately at his wound.


“Buffy? What’s going on?” Dawn was awake.


Caitlin began to wail.


Spike was bleeding drastically.


And Buffy felt panicked tears flood her eyes.


The car took on a mind of its own, the wheels spinning as it did a complete U-turn and ended up crashing into the base of an old oak tree.


“Well well well,” came the voice of a loathsome blonde. “What do we have here?”