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Author's Chapter Notes:
The next chapter is almost done, so I thought I'd post this one now :)
Buffy hadn't wanted to accept William's offer.

She didn't want to move in with him, didn't want to be his little trophy wife... at least, that's what she tried to make it seem like. Tried to make him see it as.

Truth was, she just didn't want to take any more advantage, than she already was, of someone who had till now, and she assumed for ever, trusted her on her word alone.

No, "where's the proof?" or "are you sure it's even mine?" questions had ever left his mouth in the time they had spent talking, from when she had told him she was pregnant, till her leaving his office hours later with a promise to really think about his offer and to call if she needed anything.

And he stressed the word anything.

"Even a pickle, peanut butter, and banana sandwich in the middle of the night," he'd said, even as she assured him that cravings wouldn't start for another "two months."

She really, truly hadn't wanted to accept his offer but...

The previous week had really been awfully hard on her.

She had spent everyday trying to find a job and a place to call home with no luck.

The few places that had taken even a semi-interest in her, made her feel cheap and dirty, and reminded her of her mom too much to even consider taking employment.

And then, the few rooms or apartments for rent, at a price she could afford were a lot worse than her little roach infested motel room. And even that was too much for her budget.

So after seeing the bit of her savings swiftly being used for room and board, she finally caved and called William, and now, she was sitting on a small, cement fence in front of the motel she'd been staying at - after having checked out - waiting for her husband to arrive.






To say that he had been surprised when Buffy called, to tell him she had thought about and accepted his offer, would be a big understatement.

When she had walked out of his office that evening, the week before - after having spent hours talking about his motives and the reasons why he thought she should move in with him - she had been determined to not accept anything from him. Well, anything that was not baby related.

He had known then, that had she truly not needed his help, financial at least, she would have made no attempts to contact him, to let him know that he had fathered a child. Let him know that he was going to be a dad.

He smiled at the thought and grabbed his keys, locking the door to his one bedroom flat before making his way to the lift and down to the car park and into his car.

She reminded him of himself at that age.

He'd been in law school still, all bleached hair, which he sported now still, and bad boy looks, willing to take on anything and anyone in order to prove himself.

He loathed looking weak in the eyes of anyone, he'd done enough of that in the boarding school he had spent his childhood, and most of his teenaged years, in.

When he had moved to America, to attend college, he took the opportunity to start fresh. Start anew. He'd changed his image, and let the hidden parts of himself bleed out and be known.

He had been witty, with a dry sense of humour, and full of sharp, biting comments. His bad boy charm mixed with his poetic side made him someone unlike all other. Made him someone he, himself, could be proud of.

The bestest mate a bloke could have, according to his friend Clement, or Clem as he'd liked to be called, and "the perfect boyfriend," as his ex-girlfriend Cecily Underwood, had called him. That is, until she broke his heart, cheating on him, and he'd nailed every single of her stuffed animals - some he'd given her, others brought from home - to her dorm room door with small, railroad spikes, earning him his nickname.

A bit childish, he conceded, but very much worth it, just for the look on her face when she'd gotten back from her class.

He laughed softly to himself as he turned down the street Buffy had told him the motel she was staying in was located at. He cringed, knowing this side of town and how good it truly wasn't. If he had known she'd been staying here, he wouldn't of let her walk out of his office and back to this.






Standing up as she saw his car approach, a black Mercedes-Benz (S65 AMG), Buffy picked up her duffel bag and made her way to the small parking lot. Letting the bag drop at her feet she smiled at him as he turned his car off and stepped out.

"Love." He greeted her, a genuine smile firmly in place.

"Hi," she ducked her head shyly.

"I'm glad you called." He told her after a long moment of silence before looking up at the old hotel building and the surrounding area. "I'm really glad you called," he added.

She blushed, not for the first time a bit ashamed of where she'd been living at.

Noticing this, Spike apologized, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I just..." He looked down at her face, his eyes imprisoning hers. "You shouldn't be in a place like this." He said, almost whispering.

She smiled at him, letting him know it was okay, before reaching down to once again pick up her bag.

"Let me," he offered, taking the bag from her. "This it?" He asked and she nodded.

Walking her to the passenger side of his car, Spike helped her in, closing the door firmly behind her and depositing her bag in the boot of his car, before making his way to the driver's side and getting in.

They chuckled nervously, avoiding looking at each other, as they buckled themselves in safely.

Turning the ignition and then slowly pulling out of the small car park and back into the street to head home and out of this place, Spike knew, for the first time, that he had done the right thing in asking Buffy to move in with him.

He would help her. He would be there for her, he decided.

And the bit of guilt - in wanting to use her to help his career - slowly ebbed away as he realized that in using her, he would most likely be helping her. In using her to help him lie, he would be giving her a better life than that of crappy jobs and a no decent place to call home.

'And who knows,' he thought as his gaze drifted to the woman, to his wife, sitting next to him, 'maybe I can gain her respect and, with time, maybe, we could fall in love. After all,' he added in his mind as he thought of the life growing inside of her, 'we're already linked for all eternity.'






Buffy looked out the window, as he drove them away from the hotel to a nicer part of LA, feeling, for the first time since finding out she was pregnant, hope.

Hope that maybe, just maybe, everything would work out.





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