Prologue: Everything’s Changed

Pregnant.

She was pregnant.

Riley Finn had dumped her and now she was pregnant.

'Guess he left me with more than just a goodbye fuck.'

Buffy Anne Summers stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She didn't look pregnant. She didn't even look any different than she had a year ago, or a month ago, or a week, or a day, or even an hour ago. Her hair was still a honey blonde, her eyes just as green, skin just as tanned. Her lips still shimmered with her Very Berry lip gloss.

Staring down at the life changing, white plastic stick, it's two pink lines standing out from it's paleness, she knew that beyond her golden tan, beyond hair or eye color, everything had changed.

Even if she didn't look it, everything about her had changed.

She was going to be a mom now.

'Oh, God, what am I going to do?...'






Chapter One: Less Than A Minute



The timing is cruel
I need and don't want to need
More than I should...

My sheet is so thin
So I say I can't sleep because
It's so very cold

But I know what I need
And if you were just near to me
Would you go...

I am falling, say my name
And I'll lie in the sound
What is love, but whatever
My heart needs around

And it needs you too much now

~Trespassers William, Lie in the Sound




"So Buff, you exited?" Xander Harris asked his friend as they passed the 'Welcome to Las Vegas' sign.

"Yep!" She smiled brightly, if just a bit falsely.

Xander looked into the rear-view mirror and smiled at the sleeping forms of his best friend Willow and her cousin Tara.

They had all decided to take a trip to Las Vegas to celebrate Buffy's 21st birthday to try and cheer up their friend some.

After her boyfriend of two years had left her for another, "more experienced," woman, Buffy had been moping around the Maclay / Summers' residence.

She'd hardly speak to anyone and the only one who could course her into coming out of her room, and into the land of the living, was Tara's mom, Joyce, and the promise of her famous hot chocolate.

The first time Xander had seen her smile, since college boy hit the road a couple weeks back, was when they had suggested a trip to Sin City itself.

He guessed Buffy saw it as a chance to be free, to be someone different, if just for a little while.

Because as the commercials said, whom she had quoted in a way that overexcited wouldn't begin to describe: "What happened in Vegas, stayed in Vegas."

Hey, if it put a smile on her face, who was he to disagree?

Xander glanced at Buffy's face, a bright smile firmly in place and her eyes aglow from the casino lights.

'Yeah,' he thought, 'this weekend is going to be a memorable one.'






William Pratt, Spike to his co-workers and some of his friends, sat at one of the tables in the back of Nyx Night Club. No one to keep him company but the dark beer in his hand.

His friend and co-worker Liam Angelus, Angel to his close friends, had buggered off with his girl, Cordelia Chase-Angelus, an hour before and had left him to his lonesome.

Spike sighed, brought the bottle of imported beer to his lips and took one last swig. Setting it back down on the table he stood up and reached for his jacket. Slipping his arm in, he took one last look around the club.

That's when he noticed her.

She was standing at the bar talking with what he guessed was her friend, and looking to have a bit of fun, if the row of shot glasses, some empty, some not, in between them had anything to say.

He took in her full lips, bright eyes, and shiny hair. Her small frame encased in satin and leather.

He smirked, fixing the collar of his jacket and made his way towards the bar.

A gasp and a strangled yell broke him from the thrall the brunette beauty had him in and he look down to see a very cute, very flustered blonde yelling at him.






Buffy pulled the wet fabric of her favorite, probably ruined by now, blouse away from her body.

She had been heading back to her friends, a strawberry margarita, virgin, in her hand, when somebody had very roughly bumped into her, making her spill the fruity drink all over herself.

"Why don't you watch where you're going?!" She yelled and looked up.

'Figures,' she thought when he seemed to ignore her, his eyes glued to something, 'or someone,' at the bar.

Buffy looked down at herself and at the stain quickly forming on the white silky fabric.

"Ugh!" She growled, then pouted, before looking back up at him. "You jerk!" She half yelled and he finally looked down, his lightning blue eyes meeting her green ones.






Spike met the gaze of the blonde woman for a few seconds before his eyes trailed down to her very wet blouse, then to a very empty margarita glass in her hand.

"I'm sorry," he apologized when he realized what had happened. She rolled her eyes and turned to walk away.

She had only taken a few steps when she felt his hand wrap gently around her arm. She stopped and waited for him to face her.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, locking gazes with her. "I really am. Let me pay for the dry cleaning?" He offered.

"What's there to clean?" Buffy scoffed. "It's ruined."

"Then let me replace it." He smiled gently. "Please? It's the least I can do." Buffy held his gaze, seeing the honesty in his face and smiled softly back.

"Okay." She said and took the business card that he offered her.

Spike watched as she sidestepped him, his head turning to follow her as she made her way to the table where her friends awaited. She motioned to her blouse, and he blushed as she vaguely pointed in his direction, before picking up a small, black, leather jacket and heading towards the exit and out the club.

It took him less than a minute to follow.


~*~


Like it? Hate it? Should I quit? Go on? Let me know and make my day, lol :D

"Excuse me, miss." Spike called out, working his way around the crowd of people walking in the street as he ran to try and catch up to the blonde. "Miss?" He inquired as he tapped her on her shoulder, finally able to catch up to her.

Buffy turned around and came face to, well, chest, with the same guy from the club. She raised her eyebrow in question.

"Hi," Spike breathed out, smiling. "I uh... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

Buffy wrapped her arms around herself, "I didn't give it." She said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Right."

Buffy smiled as she watched him smile sheepishly and bite his bottom lip.

"Buffy." She relented.

"Buffy." Spike repeated. Her name sounding oddly intimate coming from his mouth. "I'm William."

Buffy waited for him to continue telling her why he had followed her out of the club. After a few moments of silence she inquired.

"Was there something you needed, William?" She smirked, "besides my name?"

Spike blushed once again, wondering just where in the bloody hell all his self confidence and cocky attitude had gone.

"Walk," he blurted out, then proceeded to wince.

"Excuse me?"

"Uh... let me walk you to your hotel," he answered; half request, half question.

"What?" Buffy started confused. "Why?"

"Humour the man that ruined your shirt?" Spike grinned.

Buffy snorted prettily and continued on her journey down the street. Spike, taking her lack of answer for a yes, fell into step besides her.

"So what do you do for a living?" He asked after they had walked half a block from when he had initially joined her.

Buffy glanced at his face. "I work."

Spike breathed out a laugh, "where do you work at?"

"My job." She stated matter-of-factly.

Spike suppressed a sigh and pursed his lips. Buffy looked up at him, thoughtful for a moment.

"Why do you want to know?"

Spike shrugged and smirked, "small talk, I guess."

Buffy bit her bottom lip. "What do you do for a living?"

"I work." Spike mocked and grinned. "I'm an attorney."

Buffy's eyebrows rose, impressed. "For a firm, or...?" She trailed off, realizing she hadn't even looked at his business card before slipping it into the pocket of her jacket.

"Wolfram and Hart," Spike nodded. "In L.A."

"Impressive."

Spike smiled, pleased. "Your turn," he pointed out and slightly nudged her with his shoulder.

She smiled back. "I work at a gallery."

"That's..." Spike started, "kinda cool."

"Kinda." Buffy agreed before stopping in front of the hotel her and her friends were staying at. "This is me," she stated.

Spike looked up at the building, noting the name of the hotel before turning to face her. Their eyes locked and he realized he didn't want to leave her. Not yet.

"Dinner," he blurted out again and preceded to blush.

As he slightly expected, Buffy frowned, confused, "what?"

"Dinner," he repeated, slower. "Have it with me. Tonight" He added the last as an afterthought.

Buffy looked into his eyes, noting, not for the first time, how expressive they were, and saw a tint of hopefulness shining in them. She thought of the pregnancy test lying somewhere in the city dump in Sunnydale and, placing her hand on her abdomen, realized this would be one of the last chances she'd get at having a real date.

'Not that that's what this is.'

"Okay." She said, and was glad to notice the relief he exuded when she agreed. "Just let me change my blouse real quick." Buffy turned to go into the building.

"No!" 'Mental note: Get this blurting thing checked out.' "I mean," he looked down then turned his gaze to the rest of the street. The name of Cordelia's favourite boutique jumped out at him. "There's a boutique just down the street my friend's wife is very fond of." Spike took her hand and started, slowly, leading them there. "Allow me to replace your top tonight."

Buffy smiled at him, their hands moving to interlock of their own accord, and fell into step besides him.







They had walked for a long while, after William kept his promise and replaced her shirt. The other, the ruined one, was now folded neatly and tucked away inside his jacket pocket. He didn't know why he kept it, taking it from the shop girl who had been asked by Buffy to get rid of it while she was changing into the new one.

It was a flimsy little thing, backless and all silk and lace, fit into his pocket perfectly. He fingered it slightly as he waited for Buffy to come back from the loo.

He smiled as she slid into the booth. They had found a small, open 24/7, diner tucked away in-between two department stores of one of the streets they had walked, looking very out of place.

Buffy's eyes had lit up at the thought of a cheeseburger, fries, and a big chocolate shake, and she had ordered just that.

Impressed, Spike had ordered the same, exchanging the chocolate shake for a banana one.

"I don't normally eat this much." Buffy tried to excuse once their food had arrived. Spike just shook his head.

"I love it when a girl has a healthy appetite," he said. "It's refreshing. Most of the women in L.A. are too concerned with their looks to appreciate the taste of a nice piece of meat in their mouth."

Spike clamped his mouth shut and blushed as Buffy giggled.

"Sometimes, I shouldn't talk." He muttered and looked back at her face.

He had thought her a pretty girl, at the club and as they walked, but now, seeing her truly smile, the sparkle of mirth shinning heavily in her eyes, he saw just how truly uniquely beautiful she was.

"You're cute when you blush." She told him, dipping her fries in the chocolate milkshake, and he felt peculiarly touched by her compliment.

There was a sort of innocence to her, as though she hadn't been jaded by the world and the evils he saw everyday in his line of work, and he wondered just how old she was.

"Twenty-one," she answered and he realized he had spoken his musing out loud. "Or will be," she corrected. "Tomorrow."

"Or now," he said as he glanced at the clock on the wall of the diner. She followed his gaze and noticed the time.

11:58 P.M.

"Or now." She repeated quietly and grinned.

He waited until midnight to wish her a 'happy birthday' and ordered them two slices of cheesecake.

He had her make a wish and blow out the flame of his lighter, for lack of a candle, and she felt moved at his thoughtfulness.









"Thank you for making the start of my birthday a memorable one." She told him, honestly, later that night, or early morning, as they once again stood outside her hotel.

"It was my pleasure." William said, out of habit, and realized that he truly meant it. "It'd be a greater pleasure," he added with little thought, "if you would allow me to make the rest of your birthday as memorable."

Buffy smiled and he returned it in kind. She bit her lip.

'What the hell, why not?' She thought and leaned up to leave a goodnight kiss on his cheek.

"Meet me here. Tomorrow. At ten." She said and turned making her way to her hotel room.

Spike stood and grinned, his fingertips gracing against the skin where she had kissed him, then turned to walk back to his own hotel.

His smile never wavering.

Spike showed up at her hotel at 9:25 a.m.

'Let it not be said that he was a patient man.'

He had gotten up early, groaning at the clock as it blinked 5:23 a.m., and tried futilely to go back to sleep. He gave up around 7 and instead took a shower before ordering up a pot of tea, which he had then proceeded to not drink, as he got dressed and made his way to the car park of the hotel and into his rental car.

Fifteen minutes later had him pacing in front of Buffy's hotel building like some nervous teenage boy on his first date.

'Poncey bugger I turned out to be today.' He thought and sat at the steps leading to the front door of the edifice.






Buffy paused at the front glass door of the hotel on her way out as something caught her attention.

She smiled as she recognized William's bleached hair and wondered how long he'd been waiting for her.

The night before had been a pleasant one, to say the least, and she was still surprised that she had agreed to spend time with this man that was by all intent and purposes a stranger.

A very handsome stranger, with a way hot accent. 'And that has absolutely nothing to do with why you agreed to a shirt, a walk, and dinner,' she scoffed at herself.

She glanced at her watch and noticed it was 9:52. She briefly considered letting him wait till ten, but decided against it as she watched him check his own watch and then proceed to stretch. She allowed herself to admire the strong muscles of his back, covered by the soft material of his shirt, for a few moments before opening the door, and stepping out.






William turned as he heard the door to the building open and stood. He watched as the sun's rays greeted Buffy, her honey blonde hair, and her smile.

She was dressed casual, yet graceful, in a flowy skirt and a fitted tank, the slight camber in front showing just a hint of her pert breasts. Strappy heeled sandals adorned her feet, accentuating the curves of her calves as she walked down the steps and made her way to him.

"Buffy." Spike greeted, "you look... beautiful, love." He hesitated only a moment before dipping his head and brushing a kiss against her cheek, lingering for a second too long as the scent of her perfume filled his senses, threatening to harden his manhood.

She smiled, blushing at his compliment and kiss.

"You don't look so bad yourself." She smiled, taking him in.

He was wearing a blue, button down shirt, long sleeves, the color helping his hair to bring out his eyes, the scar in his left eyebrow, and his sharp, piercing features. Black slacks hid his lower body and she caught herself wondering if he was a briefs or boxers man. Black, clumpy, leather boots finished off his outfit and she wondered what the story behind the hints of his bad-boyness was.

"Ready to get this day started, pet?" Spike inquired as he took hold of Buffy's hand, his fingers interlocking with hers, and lead them to his car.

"Oh yeah, so ready." Buffy smiled, savouring the feel of his hand in hers. "Thank you," she beamed as William opened, and held, the car door for her. Helping her inside, he shut it quickly and jogged to the other side, eager to get their tryst started.






From the window of one of the rooms of the hotel, one Xander Harris, found himself following the car as it sped down traffic till it disappeared from his view, all the while wishing that the bleached-menace, their best friend had excitedly ditched them this morning for, would make his friend forget all about college-boy and keep a beaming smile on her face.

At least for today.






"Oh." Buffy moaned as she melted into the softness underneath her.

'Could this man have any more perfect hands?' She thought as said hands dipped, caressing her inner thigh before making their way to her lower leg.

William had surprised her, after a visit to the Bellagio - to see the art on display there - and a very nice lunch, with the news that he had made reservations at his hotel's spa for a few hours of rest and relaxation.

She was currently getting all the cricks and stress massaged out of her in the most delicious way.






Buffy found herself thinking back on her day with William and the feelings he invoked in her.

He was a handsome, intelligent man, incredibly charming, sweet, and romantic with just a hint of danger and that gave him a sex appeal she was sure no sane woman could resist. How he was still single was a mystery to her.

She'd give just about anything to be with someone like him, or better yet, him. If the circumstances were different she was sure she'd try to pursue something more with him than this innocent fling they seemed to have going on.

'William would be the perfect boyfriend,' she thought as she dressed back into her own clothes. Her hand brushed against her stomach as she fixed her tank, and she paused, wondering, not for the first time, what kind of life she'd be able to give her baby.

Riley wouldn't be around for either of them, that she knew. Last thing that she had heard about him was that he had moved with his new girlfriend to South America, so she could continue her research on exotic animals or some such thing.

Buffy doubted, had Riley known about her pregnancy, that he would of stuck around anyways.

'I bet William would be the perfect father.' She thought forlornly, wishing it'd be true.

But it wasn't.

William wasn't the father of her baby, Riley was gone, for good even, and she was still alone.

Her.

Alone.

To raise a child by herself.

Sure, her friends would help, and she knew Joyce would be understanding, but what else did she have?

Her friends, even though they'd be there for her wouldn't understand just what it meant to be single, and beyond that, a single mother.

Willow was happily engaged to Oz, the guitarist of one of the local bands in Sunnydale.

Tara had met a shy young P.I. when she had spent a semester in Chicago, and was planning on moving there after graduation.

And Xander, well, he'd had an on again, off again relationship with Faith, since they lost their virginity to each other in high school.

Even Tara's mom, Joyce, was dating Rupert Giles, the high school librarian.

Yeah, they'd all be understanding, but they'd never truly understand.

There was a knock on the door, breaking her of her thoughts, and William's voice called out, asking if she was ready.

Buffy quickly slipped on her shoes and walked towards the door. Reaching for the handle, she took a big breath and smiled.

If just for tonight, she would pretend, that she was not alone, that William was her perfect boyfriend, that he was the perfect father, that Riley and her never met, and that everything was okay.

It couldn't hurt, right? To *pretend* everything was okay.

Even if just for one night.

Buffy could feel the rhythm of the music pulsating in the air around them as they walked into the night club. It was full, but not overly so.

She could smell the sweat, the liquor, the perfumes women wore, and the general lust permeating the air.

It was intoxicating.

"Hey love," Spike addressed Buffy, smiling. "Here, why don't you go order something to drink, while I uh..." he blushed handing her a twenty dollar bill, "make a quick trip to uh, the little boys room?" He grinned sheepishly as she took the twenty and smiled back. "Wait for me at the bar?" He inquired and waited for her nod.

They parted ways, Buffy heading towards the bar. She sat at one of the stools there and was startled when the bartender, a pretty brunette with big eyes and a friendly smile, appeared before her.

"Hi," the girl greeted, "what'll it be?"

Buffy found herself smiling back, feeling at ease. "A coke--"

"And rum?" The brown-eyed girl interrupted cheerily.

Buffy nodded, smiling, "minus the rum."

"Ah, not drinking tonight?"

"Nope. Can't."

"Underage?" She inquired, smile never wavering.

"Pregnant." Buffy grinned, "but shh," she put a finger to her lips, giggling. "It's a secret."

"I understand." The brunette smiled and went to go fetch her drink.






Spike made his way over to where Buffy was sitting and grinned.

She looked gorgeous sitting there, smiling, her fingers tapping against the bar to the rhythm of the music. She almost seemed to glow.

"Heavenly," he whispered and, like a moth to a flame, made his way to her.

Spike sat down at the bar next to Buffy, turned to her, and promptly took her hand. She smiled at the gesture and opened her mouth to speak.

"Rum and coke." The pretty bartender interrupted before she could, and Buffy turned to her, curious. The brown-eyed girl winked at her and turned to Spike.

"Hey handsome," she drawled, "what's it gonna be?"

"Jack and coke with a shot of tequila, on the rocks." He replied, eyes never leaving Buffy's face.

"Coming right up." She said, smirking at the obvious chemistry between the two blondes.

"Have I told you just how lovely you look today?" Spike inquired, playing with the fingers of one of Buffy's hands.

"You might have," she smirked, "but a girl always loves to hear things like that again."

Spike bit his bottom lip, the motion looking purely predatory on him, and leaned in to brush his lips against her cheek. "You look incredibly gorgeous, pet." He whispered against her ear. Voice husky.

Buffy blushed, squirming in her seat and tapped Spike's knee to let him know his drink had arrived.

"It's on the house." The brunette girl said, placing the drink in front of them. Buffy thanked her and they stood up, making their way to one of the tables scattered around the club.






Spike was on his seventh drink, Buffy on her forth coke, when nature, and a vain need to check that she still looked her best, called.

Buffy stood, grabbing her small clutch and told William, "I need to go powder my nose."

He grinned, returning her smile, and nodded, standing.

"While you do, love, I'm gonna go get another drink." Spike smiled, then motioned to her glass, "want me to get you another?"

"No, I'm good." She smiled and once again they parted ways.






Buffy was making her way out of the bathroom when the beat of one of her favourite songs hit the air. Making her want to dance.

A quick glance at their table revealed that William wasn't back from getting his drink so she headed to the bar in search of him instead.

She spied him, standing, at the side of the bar closest to her.

Buffy started to make her way to him at the same time a blonde and a brunette approached him.






Spike looked up when he felt a soft touch on his arm expecting to see Buffy. He was surprised when instead of meeting Buffy's hazel eyes, his gaze clashed with greyish blue ones. He was more surprised when he noted the eyes belonged to the brunette beauty that had captured his attention... was it just the night before?

After just a day with Buffy, he felt he'd known her all his life, or all his 'dating' life, though the though of playing doctor (or house) with a bitty Buffy, as kids, did have a weird sense of appeal.

He snapped out of his thoughts when the brunette introduced herself and her friend and asked him to dance.

Buffy reached William as he spoke to the two women in front of him, not yet noticing her arrival.

"I'm sorry, ladies." He was saying. "I'm here with someone."

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind if we stole you away for one dance." The blonde one said, smiling flirtatiously and something about her voice and the way she held herself tickled Buffy's memory.

"I'm sure she wouldn't," William responded, "Buffy's a great girl, but maybe it's not her the one that minds."

"Buffy?" They questioned, both to his mention of her and to her sudden presence at his side.

Buffy, after a quick glance at William's face, finally chanced a look at the two women talking to her date.

Instantly it clicked in her mind why the voice of the blonde had stirred her memory of times past.

"Mom?"






Spike's glance floated from Buffy's face to the gaping blonde woman standing in front of them, after his companion's sudden announcement.

"Buffy," she blinked, surprise colouring her voice and features. "What, uh... what are you doing here?" She inquired for lack of a better question.

"I'm uh..." Buffy glanced at William and was grateful when his hand came to rest on her lower back while his other hand left his drink on the bar in search of her fingers. "I'm on a date."

Spike could feel the tension surrounding all four of them and wondered what was going on. And how weird was it that his girl-- 'no, not girlfriend. Date.' date's mum had hit on him.

"You look good," Darla Summers said as she took in her daughter. "All grown up."

"Well, I would, considering the last time you saw me was six years ago." Buffy couldn’t keep the hurt and rage from seeping into her carefully controlled voice.

Spike stood, downing his drink in a couple quick gulps, and tangled his and Buffy's hands together at the same time. "Excuse us ladies." He spoke, guiding Buffy away, hoping that he was reading her correctly in her need to get away.

"Come on, Dru." Darla said, taking hold of the brunette's arm and leading her away from the bar. "Lets get out of here."






Spike helped Buffy take a seat at their table exceedingly curious about what had just transpired a few minutes before, but knowing it wasn't his place, or right, to ask.

Buffy took her drink from William's hand giving him a grateful smile.

The last person she had expected to see in a night club, in Vegas of all places, had been her mother.

The last time she had seen her, had been when she was fifteen and they still lived in L.A. Her mother, who'd had her when she, herself had been fifteen, had gotten into some trouble with the authorities and in a last effort to escape jail, and possibly rehab, she had hastily packed their stuff, pulled her out of school and made her way out of L.A. and onto places unknown.

They had stopped in the small town of Sunnydale for food and gas and Darla had been apprehended when an officer had recognized her from the APB they had put out for her and Buffy had been thrown into foster care.

A year later she'd received a letter from her mom, letting her know that Darla was out, all with the well, and that she wouldn't be asking for Buffy back. That she needed a fresh start and having a daughter tag along would only hold her back.

As much as she had told Joyce and Tara, her foster mom and sister, otherwise, the letter had broken her heart and left her wounded in a way that would never heal.

Joyce had told her not long after, to consider herself a part of their small, if broken, family and that she was welcome to stay with them for as long as she wanted and/or needed.

Buffy snapped out of her thoughts as she caught William's questioning look. She smiled at him giving him the shortened version.

"She got into some trouble when I was fifteen," Buffy explained. "I got put into foster care, she never bothered to come back." She paused. "This is the first time I've seen her since." She smiled sadly and took a drink of her coke. "C'mon," she smiled a little brighter and grabbed a hold of his hand. "Lets go dance."

Spike followed her to the dance floor wrapping his arms around her as a slow song started to play.






After their dance and a few more drinks, Spike had tried to lighten their mood back to the happy, comfy feeling they had shared all day and the night before.

He figured Buffy wanted, and felt the need, to let go of the brief unpleasant moment that had threaten to ruin their night because she had let herself get carried away with his jokes and silly courtroom stories.

He briefly wondered if the drinks she had steadily consumed that night had part in her being so carefree, knowing that he was more than a bit drunk himself, but the thought quickly vanished as her soft laughter reached his ears.

She looked amazing, sitting there, laughing with him. Her long, honey blonde hair glowed, her golden tan was luminous, her smile brightened the room and made his heart beat just that much more faster.

She was breathtaking.

'Effulgent.'

"Do you know what would make your birthday really memorable?" Spike questioned, not caring that it was after midnight. His voice caressing her laughter.

"What?" She asked, her laughter continuing, intoxicated on the good mood that had settled around them. William leaned towards her, enraptured. He looked into her twinkling eyes.

"If we were to get married." He said and pushed his lips against hers.


~*~


A/N: I posted this chapter today, even though I felt that it wasn't quite ready and still needed a bit of work because I wanted to let you guys know that I'm putting this fic on a short hiatus. Keyword here, short. My wife had a miscarriage, and since this was... a wanted pregnancy, much wanted, it upset us greatly. I hope you understand my need for a bit of time and don't mind waiting a bit for the next chapter.

They stumbled into his hotel room. Lips locked. Hands roaming. Fondling, searching.

Ripping, pushing, pulling.

Giggling softly as their knees found the bed and they tumbled into it.

Buffy's thighs opened to allow William's hips to settle in between them. She could feel his hard cock pulsating against her sex, making her clit throb in time with the rhythm of his blood.

She ran her hands through his hair and down his back to his waist, she could feel the patch of skin from where his shirt had ridden up as he tangled his hands in her long hair.

Buffy could feel his fingertips caressing the nape of her neck as William held her in place, angling her face in the best position for his lips to devour hers.

She ran her hands under his shirt, her fingers tracing the strong muscles of his back.

Spike tore his lips from her mouth to trail kisses down to her neck. His fingers left the strands of her golden locks to trail down her sides.

Brushing the side of her breasts.

Digging into her hips.

Running down her legs.

Whispering against her knees.

He ran his hands back up her legs under her skirt, bringing it up to bunch at her waist, opening her more fully for him.

He could feel his fingers brush against the lace of her boy short-style undies as the heat of her quim and inner thighs burned his skin, even through the material of his pants.

Spike's hands grabbed the fleshy cheeks of her lace covered bum, holding her as he ground his hard shaft against her warmth. His moans stifled as his mouth still nibbled at her exposed neck.

William's hands left the perfect roundness of her ass to once again run up her sides and under her tank, seeking to expose more flesh for his lips.

They rid her of the tank and flung it elsewhere as his lips covered a braless breast. He wasted no time in attacking her nipple, his need for her flesh, even in his intoxicated state, too much to ignore.

His hands took turns fondling the breast that his mouth was not fancying, as his lips and tongue tortured whimpers and moans from her mouth.

Buffy bit her lip as William's teeth nibbled at her nipple, the heat of his mouth felt incredible. Her skin felt as if on fire, and her breath came in harsh little pants.

She felt William's mouth leave her tits and kiss his way to the waistband of her skirt. She took the opportunity to unbutton his shirt as he divested her of the rest of her clothing.

Spike stood, brining Buffy's skirt and panties with him as he did. He took off his shirt and kicked off his boots as Buffy slipped her shoes off and settled herself in the middle of his bed.

She was bare to his gaze and he couldn't look away. Her soft feminine curves imprisoning his eyes.

She parted her thighs in invitation and he growled, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants and letting them drop to the floor.

Buffy licked her lips as William bared himself to her.

Strong.

Proud.

Slightly bent and incredibly gifted.

Spike placed his knee on the foot of the bed before dropping to his hands. Buffy's breath hitched in anticipation as William started to crawl towards her. She licked her lips in preparation of a kiss and was surprised when he stopped at her knees and dropped, his face resting inches from her quim.

Spike licked his lips and inhaled deep.

Once.

His head bending, he licked up one thigh and kissed down the other, before his tongue flattened against her slit and licked up, gathering the dew of her sex.

'Fuck.'

She smelt of sex on a tropical island and tasted of coconuts and strawberries.

He descended again, his thumbs parting the lips of her twadge, as he sucked her clit taut. He licked the pink folds coating them with her juices and his saliva, getting her ready for the solidity and breadth of his cock.

Spike could feel her fingers in his hair and grabbed her hips, face coming away from her quim covered in her juices and pulled her down, till she was beneath him, her juices coating his length. He kissed her then. Hard. Stifling the surprised yelp from her mouth as, eyes widening, she tasted herself on his tongue.

Tightening her arms around his neck, she kissed him back with equal fury and bit at his lips and he poised the tip of his cock at her entrance and brusquely pushed himself inside, invading her body with his.

Buffy wrapped her limbs around him as William's cock slid deeply in and slowly out of her. The kiss slowly descending until they parted, the hot air of their mingling breaths caressing their faces as they panted.

She pushed her head back against the pillow, body arching, neck exposed to William's lips as she sought out the friction, his lower body, and trimmed coarse hairs could offer her.

Noting what she was seeking to do, Spike flipped them over, urging her to ride him as his fingers circled and pinched at her swollen nub. He could feel the inner walls of her pussy as they constricted around him.

Buffy groaned as her orgasm washed over her and Spike flipped them over again, his hips moving swiftly between her thighs, his cock plunging fiercely in and out of her, the base of his shaft rubbing against her clit on every down stroke, prolonging her climax.

Nostrils flaring he gritted his teeth and erupted in her, bathing her womb with his come.

She felt his full weight atop of her as he sagged against her for a few seconds before he rolled to his back. Their lips parted and panting for breath, he moved to wrap his arms around her, moving her so her back was to his front.

He could feel the pounding of her heart through his chest and let the rhythm of it, as it slowed, lull him to sleep.

Buffy could feel his hold on her loosen a bit more with every breath that passed through his lips as he slowly drifted into slumber. She turned in his arms, smiling slightly as his arms tighten around her again.

He really was a handsome man, all sharp features and soft lips. Brilliant blue eyes and bleached too white hair.

Charming, sexy, and sweet.

She hated doing this to him.

Hated leaving him like this.

Hated that she even had to.

A part of her longed to stay there, safe in his arms, warm in his bed, wanted to forget everything that has passed and everything that was yet to come.

She forced herself to leave his embrace.

Thinking like that was dangerous, especially now when she knew what she had to do.

She searched the room for her clothes and quickly slipped into her underwear and skirt after finding them by his pants. She found her tank by the dresser and quickly finished dressing.

Searching through her purse, that she had dropped by the door, she took out the folded piece of paper and the five dollar Polaroid.

Placing them atop the bedside, she turned and, strappy heels in hand, made her way to the door.

Hand on the doorknob, she hesitated and looked back at William's sleeping form, his arms now curled around a pillow and snoring softly.

Searching the floor again, she spotted the crumpled blue material on the ground. Quickly walking back to it, she snatched it from the ground and made her way back and out the hotel room door, closing it, softly, to keep him from waking.

She had a couple hours to get back to her hotel, shower, and pack before they had to be on the road back to Sunnydale.

Hugging his shirt to her chest, she made her way out of the building and into the night.










Spike woke up the next day to a pounding headache and an empty space beside him.

Used to the headache, that came whenever he drank as much as he had, and not yet aware that the space next to him shouldn't be empty, he reached his hand out, intending to find a phone and call room service and ask for a big greasy breakfast.

As he searched for the phone at the bedside table his hand landed on something warmer than the cold wood of the table. He heard the 'tap, tap' noise folded paper sometimes makes and, curious and fingers stumbling, picked it up and brought it to him.

He unfolded the paper, the Polaroid in it falling out and into his lap, and brought it up to eye level.

Squinting his eyes open, he read the top print.

'What the...?'

Squinting again, more awake now, he read it again.

His eyes widened as he sat up in bed. Gaze falling to the picture in his lap, he picked it up searching for the truth of the document in his hand in it.

Finding it, he swallowed once before whispering into the room.

"Oh hell."

Spike rested his head against the back of his plane seat and closed his eyes trying to keep the smile off his face and look utterly annoyed.

Angel and Cordy had been laughing at him non-stop since he'd told them of his drunken joke of a Vegas wedding with a girl he'd just met.

"Only you, man." Angel told Spike as he plucked the Polaroid picture of the 'happy couple' from his friend's grasp and showed it to his wife. "Something like that could only happen to you."

"Shut up." Spike grumbled and snatched the picture back, laughing softly himself.








The first thing they saw as they walked into the house was the disheveled form of Rupert Giles. He was sitting on the couch, head in his hands, and looking completely heartbroken.

"Giles, Goddess, what happened?" Tara asked, dropping her bags by the door and falling to her knees in front of her mother's boyfriend.

"Oh, Tara. I'm sorry, dear, I didn't hear you girls come in." He attempted a smile and failed miserably. He stood, Tara rising to stand up with him. "It's Joyce," he said sadly, as Buffy walked further into the living room. "She's in the hospital."








Spike stood in front of the built in dresser in his walk-in closet, top drawer open, and slipped the gold band off his left ring finger, and held it in the palm of his right hand.

'I should really think about getting an annulment,' he thought, 'or no, not an annulment since we…' He smirked.

'Divorce, though...?' He really didn't want to deal with all the paperwork and come up with a good enough excuse for the judge to grant it. Knowing the judges he did, they'd probably laugh at him, if he went with the truth, and tell him to deal.

‘Being drunk while in Vegas, does not a good excuse make.’

No, he'd rather her make the first move, if she wanted to divorce him, then she could deal with all that. It's not like being married hurt him in any way.

'Till then...'

He took out the small box from the far corner of the drawer, where he kept his grandmother's jewellery and dropped the gold band inside.

Taking the folded certificate, Polaroid tucked firmly inside, he place them back into the far corner, placed the jewellery box atop and closed the drawer.

Slipping out of his shirt and pants, he walked into the bathroom and into his shower.

'...out of sight, out of mind.'









Alone.

Walking through the empty streets of Sunnydale at three in the morning, Buffy finally realized the truth. She was genuinely alone.

The sale of the gallery and house had finally come through, and in a fortnight's time, Tara, the only person she could call family, now that Joyce was gone, was moving. Packing her stuff and relocating to Chicago to start a family of her own with her fiancé.

And she'd be left here.

Alone.

No. She couldn't let that happen.

Buffy stopped suddenly as the feel of the smooth finish of the gold band, hanging from a chain on her slender neck, brushed against the swell of her breast.

Taking it out and staring as it glimmered under the street light she realized what she had to do.









"Hey Spike, did you hear?" Charles Gunn asked in greeting as he walked into his friend's office, closing the door behind him.

"Hear...?" Eyebrow raised.

"The rumours, man."

"Rumours?" Spike stifled a yawn.

"Yeah blondie, someone's getting promoted. Rumour has it the senior partners are looking at you."

Spike's eyes widened and he stood up, all traces of tiredness gone. He walked from behind his desk and approached his friend.

"You're shitting me."

"Shit you not," Gunn grinned, "Lilah said it's between you and Lindsey and the way he's been slacking off, they'd be crazy to pick him over you."









Buffy took one last longing look around the house where she spent most of her teenage years.

The walls were bare, Tara having packed mostly everything in the weeks before, but it did nothing to diminish the memories lingering in her mind.

With a sad smile she picked up the duffle bag at her feet, her belongings tucked neatly inside, and, opening the door, walked outside into the sunshine.



"You sure about this, B?" Faith Lehane asked her friend as they stood outside the bus station, watching the other people board the bus to L.A.

Buffy nodded her head in response and hugged the brunette.

"If there's anything that you need..." Faith left the sentence open in offering.

"I know." Buffy smiled, picked up her bag, and with a small wave, boarded the bus.









Spike sat at the bar of a local L.A. night club contemplating the amber liquid of his drink.

Charles had been wrong and he'd been, once again, passed up for a promotion, for a bigger chance to make partner.

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts, his gaze drifting to the broad man taking a seat next to him.

He nodded his head in greeting and brought the glass to his lips, taking a drink.

"I don't get it, Liam." He spoke, voice rough, "I do the work, give it me all, you know? I've rarely lost a case, and yet..." He trailed off shaking his head. He took one last mouthful of his drink and ordered another one.

"I'll have the same." Angel told the bartender when he approached. "It's not that, William, and you know it." Angel said, nodding a thanks to the bartender as he placed their drinks in front of them." Lindsey... he's a family man..."

"Like you are." Spike murmured.

"Like I am," Angel agreed. "And the senior partners," he paused contemplating. "They want that, they need that. They need to know that you're loyal, committed--"

"And I am." William interrupted.

"Aye, but you've no proof of that. They didn't become the biggest, most powerful, law firm in existence by trusting word alone, William, and that's all they have from you right now. Your word."

"So what you're saying is that, I have to get a family?"

"No," Angel shook his head, "just saying don't expect anything big till you do."

William Pratt picked up his suit jacket from the back of the office chair it was draped over and slipped it on. He was running late for a lunch meeting with one of Wolfram & Hart's biggest clients.

He was about to step from behind his desk when his intercom buzzed and the cheery voice of his secretary filled the room.

"Mr. Pratt?"

He quickly hit the button, "yes, Anya?"

"There's a Buffy Summers here to see you." She said and his eyes widened in surprise. "She doesn't have an appointment, but she insisted that I--"

Anya was cut off as the door to William's office opened and her boss walked out.

"Buffy."

She was standing next to his secretary's desk, turned towards him, looking good.

Nervous. But good.

She was dressed much in the same way she had been when he had last seen her.

Flowy skirt.

Fitted blouse, showing off a hint of pert breasts.

Strappy sandals.

He knew he was staring but he couldn't look away. Couldn't think beyond, 'she's here.'

Buffy took a step towards him and gave him a nervous, shy smile.

"Hi, William... can we... talk?"

Her voice snapped him out of his trance and he blinked, as if waking up.

"Uh... yeah," he cleared his throat. "Yeah, yeah, come on in." He moved from the doorway and she walked towards him.

"Uh, William?" His secretary's voice stopped them from entering his office. "What about your lunch meeting?"

His gaze drifted to Buffy then back to Anya.

"If you're busy...?" Buffy's voice reached his ears.

"No!" He winced at the slight loudness of his voice. "No, it's okay," he smiled at Buffy ushering her into his office. "Anya? Could you ask Gunn or Angel to take my meeting?"

Anya nodded, eyebrow raised in question. "Tell them that something came up-- family emergency." He waited for her nod and then walked back into his office, shutting the door behind him.

Buffy was standing in the middle of his office, slightly fidgeting. He could tell she was nervous and the thought calmed him down a bit. At least he wasn't the only one feeling awkward.

"Um-uh..." he walked towards her, and she turned to look at him. "Why don't we sit?" He said and led her to the couch in one corner of the room.

Buffy took in her surrounding as she settled herself in the couch.

His office was decorated in wood and dark tones. Very masculine and professional, yet oddly intimate at the same time.

"Would you, uh... like something to drink?" Spike asked. At the shake of her head and her soft, 'no, thanks' he sat next to her and brought his leg up on the couch so he could turn to face her, comfortably.

She was starring at her hands, fingers fidgeting, and looking very much like she wanted to run.

"So uh, how've you been?" William asked, wanting to fill the awkward silence in the room.

"Good?" She smiled slightly, looking quickly at him before returning her gaze back to her hands.

"Good," he said, nodding. "So uh..." he laughed nervously before going silent. "Bloody hell, Buffy," he stood and faced her. "I don't know how to do this," he started pacing. She raised her eyes to his form. "Hell, I didn't even think I was ever gonna see you again."

"You didn't...?" She trailed off, unsure of what she wanted to ask.

"'Course I didn't. What else was I supposed to think? I woke up, in my hotel room, to a gold ring on my finger and a document stating that we were married. And my apparent wife was nowhere to be found. Only trace of you left was your scent on my pillow, the picture in my hand, and my missing shirt."

She blushed at the last one and he sat next to her again. Resting his forearms on his knees he ran his hands through his hair and looked at her face again. His voice softened as he asked, "what's going on, Buffy? Why now?"

"I'm..." she swallowed nervously, "I'm... moving back to L.A." At his questioning look she continued. "My friend's mom, you know, my foster mom? She passed away. I've been living with them, but now Tara, her daughter, she's moving to Chicago to uh... she's moving in with her boyfriend. So now, I don't have anywhere to go and Joyce was kind enough to leave me a bit of money, but it's not, you know, so much to take care of two people and with all the expenses that are sure to come... uh... I thought it'd be easier to find work in L.A. rather than, you know, in Sunnydale..." Buffy trailed off looking at him.

Spike's brow furrowed as he took in her words. "Two people?" He inquired.

'Does she have a boyfriend? Is she coming to ask me for a divorce now so she can live it up with her honey?'

"Um, yeah, I'm..." 'No second thoughts, Buffy. You've got nowhere to go and a small amount of money, you have to do this. No second thoughts.' "I'm, uh... pregnant."

Spike froze.

'Pregnant?!?'

"Pregnant?"

"Um, yeah. A little over a month." 'Not exactly a lie is it?' She thought. 'Not exactly true either.'

"That night in Vegas?" He asked.

She looked away from him, trying to hide the guilt in her eyes.

He took her silence and gesture for a yes.

Spike stood up and slowly made his way towards the small table next to his desk. He poured himself a glass of water, from the pitcher there, and drank it down in three gulps. Filling it up again, and the one next to it, he took them both in shaky hands and made his way back to the couch and Buffy.

He thrust the glass of water at her, sloshing a bit of the clear liquid over the side. "Water?"

She took the glass, the shaking of her hands matching his own, and took a sip as he drank his own glass in gulps again.

He sat back down on the couch, placing the glass in the floor by his feet and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

After a minute, which felt like an eternity, he looked back up at her. He could see the tears pooling in her eyes as she tried to blink them away.

"What are," he cleared his throat again. "What are you gonna do?"

Buffy stared at her glass of water, suppressing the feeling of guilt, and shrugged.

"Sell some of my stuff," she chuckled sadly. "The little that I have that's valuable, and get a job and a small apartment somewhere, I guess."

"Are you, uh..." He trailed off uncertain of how to ask such a question.

"Yeah," She murmured softly. "I'm keeping it."

Silence. Then...

"Where are you staying now?" He asked, inquisitively.

"At a hotel."

She looked so small and sad and lost at that moment that he spoke the words before he could really think them out.

"Why don't you stay with me?"

..."where are you staying now?" He asked, inquisitively.

"At a hotel."

She looked so small and sad and lost at that moment that he spoke the words before he could really think them out.

"Why don't you stay with me?"


*******



"W-what?" Buffy stared at him completely shocked.

She had not been expecting this when she had decided to walk into his office that day. Well, to be honest, she wasn't exactly sure what she had expected. At the most maybe an offer of friendship or maybe even to share any baby related costs, but this? She definitely hadn't been expecting this.






The more Spike thought about it, the more appealing his sudden idea became.

This could really work out and, well, his simple solution could surely help more than hurt.

'If Buffy moved in with him...'

If Buffy moved in with him it would solve her dilemma of finding a decent place to live and, with a baby on the way, it would help to keep the pressure off of having to worry about quickly finding a job to pay for rent... 'or other costs.'

If she moved in with him, she wouldn't have to sell her valuables and... if she moved in with him, well, it would help him out also.

He smirked.

Bloody hell, the family he had been in need of, needed still, for his career to really take off had just landed in his lap... he'd be a complete fool to not open the door to opportunity and welcome her in.

Fuck, they were already married, had a lil' bit on the way, what more could the senior partners ask for? Surely all he would have to do now is just sit back and wait for the promotions to start rolling in.

He smiled softly to himself, liking his idea just that much more.

"Why don't you stay with me?" He asked again, this time with a bit more sincerity after having considered it out some. When she looked like she was about to protest he softly slid down to crouch in front of her sitting form. "Listen to me for a mo," he pleaded. "I think we can really help each other out."

Buffy's brow furrowed, 'how?' She thought. "How?" Spoken.

"Well," he paused, eyes darting around the ground as he searched for the right words. Buffy looked at him expectantly and more than a bit warily.

"Well," he started again, his eyes drifting back to her face. "From what you've told me, love... uh, you don't really have a place to go, or a job, have just a bit of money, you do, a-and..." His gaze drifted to her abdomen and his lips twitched. 'I'm gonna be a dad.' "A little one on the way. And well," he looked back at her face. "I'm in need of a family." He smirked kind of sheepishly.

"In need...?" She trailed off questionably. Confused.

"Yeah," he chuckled humourlessly and stood up to pace in front of the couch she was sitting at. "In need of a family. See," He stopped and looked at her. "Well, it's a bit complicated, love, but well, it'd really help out my career if I were to be a... a family man, have a family. If I had a wife... and kids," he took a deep breath before continuing, "and seeing as how--"

"We're already married?" She interrupted, looking up at him.

"Yeah, and--"

"I'm pregnant?" She interrupted again and William nodded. "I see." She said slowly and looked away, feeling oddly disenchanted and more than a bit hurt, even as her mind and heart told her she had no reason or right to be.

Seeing this, Spike walked quickly back to her side.

"Buffy, love..." He crouched back in front of her and took her hand in both of his. He inspected it, turning it over, running his fingertips over her slender fingers and over the pulse point at her wrist, trying to find the right words.

"I don't... I mean... it's not...." He stopped and sighed carefully considering his next words. "I wanna do right by you, yeah?" He said earnestly. "Gonna be there for you and the bitty us, no matter what, even if you tell me to shove off, or that I’ve gone completely round the twist and that you don't wanna move in with me. But... think about it, pet." He paused and took a deep breath.

"I'm gonna be here. That's..." he shook his head. "I’m not the kind of man to turn his back on blood, on his kith and kin, and... but..." He blinked. "Love, you're gonna be the mother of my child, and I'm here. I am. Always. But with my work and- recent events, well, I could really-- I need you, and, you don't exactly need me but, well," he scratched his forehead with his thumb. "It's a right nice opportunity for us both, yeah?"

Spike waited a bit, letting his words, as jumbled as they were, sink in.

Buffy had sat quietly through out his entire speech, taking everything in. 'He's not entirely crazy,' she thought. 'And even if he is, it's not like he's alone. I'm just as crazy for seeking him out, just as guilty for wanting to use him. At least this way it's not so bad, he'd be using me too-- What are you doing?!? Are you seriously considering his offer? Are you seriously thinking of going through with this?'

Her eyes, which had wandered to their still holding hands as she thought, snapped back to his when he spoke.

"So what do you think, pet?" His voice interrupted her thoughts. "Want to stay with me- uh, move in with me and uh..." He looked up into her eyes and smiled shyly. Hopefully. "Be my wife?"


*****


A/N: This was a really hard chapter for me to write, I struggled with it a lot 'cause even though I know where I want to take them, I wasn't sure of how to get them there and then I wasn't sure if I was moving too fast with him asking on their first day back together, first day seeing each other again, if she wanted to move in with him. I would appreciate it a lot if you let me know what you think and if you’re still with me on this :)
And I know, nothing really gets resolved yet, but Buffy will give him her answer next chapter. I promise.

-Devin

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.

Hanging the last of her clothes, the bit she had with her, on the side of the walk-in closet William had told her was just for her, Buffy finally took the time to look around.

Looking at his clothes, his suits neatly organized by color, from black to grey to a dark brown to blue and blue pinstripe, and his shirts next to them in pretty much the same sketch, she noticed how much of a neat freak he appeared to be.

His shoes were all lined up in pairs - dress shoes on top, in the shoe racks, sneakers down on the floor - and peaking into some of the boxes, neatly stacked to one side, she found his motorcycle boots. More pairs than one man should own.

In the built in dressers she found his socks and briefs, another held his t-shirts and undershirts and the last one, on his side, his sweats and shorts.

Walking out of the closet and into his bedroom she frowned as her gaze landed on his bed, wondering where she was supposed to sleep and if they were supposed to share a bed.

Grabbing the sweats and tank-top, she had set aside to change into after she finished unpacking, she walked out from behind the folding screen that separated his sleeping area from his work area, and into his bathroom.

She figured if they really had to, they could share a bed. It wasn't like it would be the first time, and they were married. Then again, he could always expect her to sleep on the couch.

'Wonder if it's a pull-out.'

Throwing her dirty clothes back into the duffle bag and setting it on the side of the bed closest to the wall, she made her way, barefooted, to his living room and sat on his couch to wait for his return.

He had left her "to get settled," while he went out to "hunt for some food." She hadn't been hungry - too nervous and conflicted to have much of an appetite - but when she told him so, he had insisted that she needed to eat, reminding her of the life she carried inside, until she caved and he promised carb-filled goodness.

Too lost in thought to hear the jingling of his keys as he unlocked the door, she startled when the door opened and he walked in carrying a transparent, squared shaped, plastic bag. Two disposable dishes and something wrapped in foil inside.

"Hey, pet," he greeted her as he made his way to the kitchen island and placed the bag down. "I didn't know what you might or didn't like so I thought I'd play it safe and got us Italian. Well, as Italian as spaghetti, salad, and garlic bread can get." He chuckled softly, pulling the containers of food out of the bag and settling them down on the counter.

Buffy smiled softly and stood.

"That's fine, sounds yummy, and I'm not picky." She approached him. "Can I help?"

"Nah, it's okay, don't worry about it, sweet. You just sit yourself down and get comfortable." Spike turned around to get the plates out of the cupboard. "Did you want to eat here, the table, or the living room?"

"Here's fine," she replied sitting down in one of the stools.

He nodded, finishing up serving the food, and placing the plates in front of her.

Setting the rest of the food aside, Spike walked to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of mineral water. Placing those in front of her also, he took a seat next to her.

Smiling softly he picked up his fork and speared a piece of lettuce with it, indicating the start of dinner.

They ate in silence, each too lost in thought to attempt to have a decent conversation.






"So how's this all going to work out?" Buffy asked after dinner as she helped him clean, putting their leftovers in the fridge.

"What do you mean?" Spike asked turning to face her.

"Well, I mean... how is this married thing going to work out?" She made her way back to the barstool and took a seat. "You need me for your job right?" She asked and he nodded slowly, coming to sit next to her, facing her. "What does that- what does that mean? Am I your trophy wife? Your... what? What's my role in your life?"

'It's a valid question.' William thought, frowning, trying to find a way to answer her.

"Honestly, I hadn't given it much thought, love. To be fair, it's not like we had a lot of time to work out the details," he paused, contemplating. "I guess... I guess," he placed his elbow on the counter, bringing his hand to rest against his lips. "We'd be expected to act like any newly married couple." 'In love.' He added in his head, his eyes raising to meet hers.

"So, we're... newlyweds?" She asked, an unreadable expression shining from her eyes. "For all intents and purposes?"

"Yeah, I'd..." He nodded, "yeah, I guess we are."

"And... did we date?"

"What d'you...?" His eyebrow rose in request.

"How we met, before we got married? Is it a different story or the truth of 'we met and married in Vegas that same weekend'?" She asked jokingly.

He breathed out a quiet laugh. "How 'bout we don't say anything unless they ask."

"And if they ask?"

"Well then... we'll tell them that we met in Vegas," he dropped his hand on top of hers where it laid on the counter. "We dated for a little while..." leaning in he dropped his voice to a husky whisper, "which is true since we did go out on all of one date." Leaning back he smiled and continued, "and after," he dropped his gaze, "we fell so much in love... that we just... knew, we knew we had to get married." He met her eyes again. "And that, these past few weeks... you've been a busy little chit back at home, getting everything ready so you could come live with your devilishly handsome husband."

Buffy giggled and he leaned forward once again, entwining their fingers together.

"And now you're here," he whispered. His soft, expelled breath caressing her lips.

"I'm here," she repeated, her gaze dipping to his mouth.

Licking her lips and meeting his gaze again, she felt the first stirring of butterflies dance in her stomach.

Eyes falling close, they each leaned forward seeking... something... anything.

A simple touch.

An undemanding caress.

A knock on the door interrupted their fall.




*****

A/N: I was playing around, trying to figure out how the layout to Spike's flat should be... so I made a semi-blue print of the way it might look (I also left a space on the side, just in case I needed a balcony later). If you guys are interested, you can see it... here

"Hey blondie." Charles Gunn greeted his friend as William opened the door.

"Charlie-boy." Spike stepped aside as Gunn brushed past him and inside. "Alright?"

"Yeah, man, just wondering if you wanted..." he trailed off, his eyes finally landing on the petite blonde sitting on one of the stools, staring at him, from the kitchen island. He noticed her lack of footwear and decorous clothes and aimed his inquiring gaze towards his friend. "Am I interrupting something?" He questioned, trying not to smirk too noticeably.

'Yes!!' Both blondes screamed in their heads.

"Uh, n-no, no. I-it's quite alright." Spike assured quickly trying not to wince at his stuttered answer.

"If you say so." Gunn chuckled, his brown eyes seeking the cute blonde's again, smiling as she seemed to blush and duck her head shyly. "You gonna introduce me?" He aimed his question back at Spike.

"Oh, yeah, yeah. C'mon..." he extended his arm, leading them to where Buffy was sitting. Clearing his throat he started. "Buffy, this is Charles Gunn. He's... a friend and co-worker. Gunn this is Buffy uh..." 'bloody hell, is she using her last name or mine?'

They both answered at the same time.

"Summers-" Spike.

"Pratt." Buffy.

"Summers-Pratt." Spike amended quickly at Gunn's overly confused look. He laughed softly. "Buffy Summers-Pratt. She's uh," he glanced at her, meeting her eyes for a moment, before he smiled and dropped his hand to encircle hers at her side. "My wife."

"It's a pleasure to--" Gunn started, hand outstretched before the rest of Spike's introduction registered in his brain. "Wife?!?"

William chuckled nervously. 'Guess this would be our first test.'

"Yeah, my wife."

Gunn opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to speak, before finally settling on a sigh and a questioning look.






Spike stood outside his flat's door, fingers looped through the belt loops of his jeans, facing his friend.

"Wow, so..." Gunn started, "all those times you went to Vegas was to see her?"

"Kind of, yeah," replied Spike.

They had told Gunn as much of the truth as possible. From their meeting in a Vegas night club, to their dating, and how on their last trip there, they realized they had fallen in love and eloped. Changing the dates of course.

"You've been married now for what, a couple of weeks?"

"Almost a month, yeah." Spike answered, looking down.

"Almost a month. Right," Gunn nodded. Thoughtfully. "Right. How come you didn't tell anyone? I mean, should I be hurt?" He asked, half jokingly.

"No, it's not like that, mate. Just... you know?"

He didn't, but Gunn nodded regardless. "Yeah, man. I know. So I'll see you around the office, alright?" He turned to walk away.

"Yeah, okay. See ya, and sorry I couldn't--"

"Don't worry about it. Got responsibilities now," he said over his shoulder as he neared the stairs, to make his way down to his car.

"Yeah." Spike chuckled softly. "Responsibilities," he mouthed, silently.

Gunn paused at the stairs for a moment and looked back at his friend who was staring at some point past his shoulder. "Hey blondie," he called and Spike snapped his eyes back to his. "Where's your ring?" He asked, turning to make his way down the stairs, but not before seeing the deer-caught-in-headlights look on his friends face.






"Rings." Spike said as soon as he walked back into the living room, where Buffy was sitting, waiting for him, hoping that their lie had stuck.

"What?" Buffy asked him, confused.

"Rings. We-" he raised his left hand, pointing to his ring finger. "We don't have rings." He started to pace.

"But we do."

Spike paused, turning to face her again, "what?"

"Rings? We have them. Or at least I still do..." Buffy trailed off, slightly frowning. Did he not have his anymore?

"What are you on about?" Spike asked as she stood up to walk to him.

"The rings? The cheap five dollar, wanna-be-gold, wedding bands you bought for us in Vegas? I still have mine." And to prove it, she pulled out the silver chain from under her tank, showing him the ring she carried on it. Spike frowned, his nose starting to burn as tears threatened to form in his eyes.

"I have mine, too... still." Spike said softly, remembering where he had placed his. He turned, suddenly, making his way to the room and into his closet, walking towards the built in dressers in the back. Opening the top one, he moved his t-shirts to the side and reached in to take out the small jewellery box that held his grandmother's jewellery and his wedding band, all the while trying not to think too much on why seeing the ring, her wedding band, on the chain that hung so close to her heart, caused relief to drown his heart to the point of almost tears.

"William?" He heard her call from the closet doorway. "You okay? You kinda..."

He closed the dresser and turned around.

"Yeah," he said and held up the gold band. "I uh, I remembered where I put it." He half smiled.

"Oh." She returned his smile.

"So uh," he started walking towards her. "Seems we do have rings."

"Yeah," she said as she unclasped her necklace and pulled the ring off. "We do." She met him half-ways, each reaching for the other's ring. They smiled at their similar thoughts before Buffy reached for his left hand. Bringing it up to her chest, she took his ring and slipped it on. Smiling shyly behind lowered lashes.

Feeling the nervous flutter of butterflies in his stomach, Spike took her small hand in both of his. Bringing it up to his lips, he kissed her fingertips, delighting in her blush, before guiding her band onto her left ring finger as well.

Buffy couldn't sleep.

She had been staring at the ceiling for the past three hours, finding shapes in the moonlight that shone through the window blinds.

She felt... guilty, yes, of lying to William. But the feeling wasn't as strong since she had accepted his offer as it had been before.

Buffy figured, in her own way, even with this lie between them, she was helping him. He had said so himself. Being his wife, giving him a child, it would help him. Help his career.

Knowing that, if nothing else, made her feel slightly less guilty.

That wasn't what was truly bothering her, though. This nervous feeling in her gut, it wasn't over guilt, it was over... confusion.

They had almost kissed.

Twice.

Once after dinner and again when he'd reclaimed her as his wife. Sliding the ring onto her finger then staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face. His face that for those few seconds, before his phone rang breaking the moment, had been all softness and warmth instead of sharp lines and harsh angles.

He was attracted to her, that much she could tell. He showed it in the smallest ways, from holding her hand, whenever he could get away with it, to soft whispers when he could speak out loud, to his hand at the small of her back whenever he'd guide her out of a room or into his car.

If she was honest - which she would be, if not to herself then at least to him, he deserved that much - she had been attracted to him as well. Ever since their eyes had met in the dimly lit lights of the night club, she had been attracted to him. Attracted to his looks and later his personality.

Part of that attraction, a big part of it, was what had made her accept his drunken marriage proposal. What girl wouldn't want to have such a handsome husband? Even if just for a night? Even if subconsciously, she supposed, she might have been aware that this, now, could have happened. She was still surprised he hadn't asked for a divorce or an annulment of some kind, the morning after, when he found out exactly what they had done.

Sighing as the clock ticked away another hour, Buffy slipped from under the covers of the bed, William had insisted her to take, and padded, barefoot, past the folding screen and into the outer rooms.

Pausing at the kitchen island, her hip leaning against the cold tile, she took in his sleeping form illuminated by the soft light of the moon as it shone through the window.

He was laying on his stomach, pillow on the floor, face smooshed against the soft cushion of the couch. The blanket he'd taken tangled around his feet, his tank top twisted in a way she knew would give him red marks on his stomach in the morning, his black sweatpants ridding low on his hips, giving her a slight glimpse of the swell of his ass.

She made the rest of the way to the living room and sat at one of the leather recliners he had there, trying to find a reasonable enough excuse to wake him.

A few minutes later she was curled up, asleep.

Spike found her like that when he woke the next morning.






The last thing Spike expected to see, when he woke first thing in the morning was Buffy curled up on the recliner. Asleep, and gently snoring.

Sliding one leg down, he pushed himself up to a sitting position. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his hand made it's way to the back of his neck, rubbing it as well, before gently popping it. He stood up, reaching a long hand to retrieve the discarded pillow on the floor and brought it back up to the couch.

Fixing his clothing, Spike took two steps to stand in front of Buffy's sleeping form.

She looked... troubled. Tense even in sleep and he wondered if something was bothering her, plaguing her dreams or her thoughts or if it was the uncomfortable position - chin resting softly on the peak of her chest, arms crossed, legs tucked tightly underneath her - she was in.

Shaking his head - a soft smile upon his face - and slightly wincing at just the though of how sore she would be once she woke, he made his way to the side of the small couch and bent down to curl his arms around her diminutive form and quickly, so as to not wake her, lifted her up and into his arms.

Her head wobbled gently before coming to rest upon his shoulder. Her soft expelled breath warming the skin of his neck for a few seconds before cooling as she inhaled again.

He walked into his room, thankful that she had left the door open, and made his way to the bed that lay behind the wooden folding screen.

The bed had been slept in. The bedraggled covers and shifted pillows to accommodate a resting head were proof of that. And he hadn't found rest till hours long past midnight and even now, it was just past seven, so it was clear she hadn't been his undetected sleeping companion for long.

That was good, he figured. She hadn't been made to endure sleeping in that chair for too long.

Placing her upon the centre of the bed, and beneath the soft covers, he sat on the edge. His knee brought up to rest comfortably as he faced her.

He caressed her hair out of her face, tucking it gently behind her ear before running his thumb against the creases of her forehead, trying to soothe away her frown.

Seeing her calm, he stood and made his way to the closet. Grabbing a pair of jeans, socks, and his trainers, not bothering with a clean shirt, he made his way to the bathroom. Quickly stripping and redressing, after taking a piss and having a quick wank, he washed his face and brushed his teeth.

Walking back into the bedroom, he made his way towards the bed, dropping a quick kiss on Buffy's forehead.

Spike made his way to the outer rooms stopping just once to grab his soft, brown, leather jacket and his keys.

Making his way out of his flat and down the stairs he wondered if he had enough time to run out to the pastry shop the next street over, to get them some breakfast, and make a quick stop at a convenience store to get a bit of orange juice and milk and be back home before Buffy woke.

Two weeks had passed since their first full day together and each time Spike woke from slumber, in the early hours of the morn, he had found Buffy curled up asleep, in the same position, in the same recliner, as before. And each day he'd carried her back to his unmade bed.

He had made sure, the first few days of her stay, to be there, to help her settle in, and to be home early from work the days after that. He had even called in at work letting them know he would not be in because he had a pressing family matter to see to that could not wait.

He had yet to tell anyone of his marital status and 'wedded bliss' life and Spike wondered if Gunn had told anyone. He doubted it. The younger man was not one to spread gossip, as true as it may be, of anyone, let alone a friend.

And if his lack of phone calls were to go by, he had been taken at his word and no one had questioned or doubted his excuse, though why they wouldn't was still a mystery to him. It's not like they, his co-workers and bosses, didn't know that he had no family to speak of. He had been an only child and his father had passed away when he was still a young lad. His mother, who had never re-married, following his father into the beyond once, he guessed, he graduated law school and saw that he could take care of himself. Which left him longing for a family, preferably big, of his own.

But today, his days of leisure time and coming home early had come to an end. He had an important case to see to that he could no longer ignore or put off for later.

He greeted Buffy with a quick kiss to her forehead, as she made her way into the kitchen after her shower, as it had become their morning ritual for the fortnight since she had moved in.

"Morning, love." He greeted and watched her as she reached for a glass on the back of the cupboard shelf.

"Morning." She replied, voice muffled, and Spike let his eyes trail down her slender neck, the lines of her back, linger on the curves of her waist, to settle on her hips and her rounded ass.

He was attracted to her, there was no doubt of that. Ever since she had yelled at him in that Vegas night club. He'd been intrigued by her and later enchanted by her mirth filled eyes, innocence, and smile.

These past two weeks, full of mornings where he'd held her in his arms, carrying her to bed - the soft curve of her hip brushing against the tip of his morning erection, her soft breath on his neck or in his ear - had been trying on him.

He hadn't wanked so much since he was still William, getting off to the sounds of his roommate rutting around with some girl or another, on his side of the dorm, in his college days before Cecily.

Buffy turned and blushed at his open appraisal of her body and the lust that tinted the blue of his eyes as his gaze drifted up to the roundness of her breasts to linger there as well.

Spike smirked, unrepentantly at her blush, and finished his tea. Making his way towards her - head down, eyes starring into hers, smirk firmly in place, strong, sure steps - as she poured herself a bit of juice. He settled his hands on her hips and brought her closer to him. Lowering his nose to sniff silently at her hair, he, once again, pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Order yourself something for dinner, kitten. I won't be home till late so you needn't wait up for me. I'm sure you and the bitty us need the rest."

Buffy smiled through her guilt, being reminded of her deception of William again, as she had leaned to do so whenever he called the baby theirs. Which was a lot. And since that's what she had made him believe, she couldn't, well, blame him.

Spike's hands moved to her stomach resting there for a few moments before he stepped away from his wife and walked to the living room.

Picking up his suit jacket, from where he'd left it on the back of the couch, he slipped it on and bent to grab his briefcase. Key's in hand and with one last smile and a quick 'bye' he walked out of the flat, closing the door behind him, and headed to work.






Buffy wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and flushed the toilet. She had been watching a bit of TV when she'd gotten a craving for fruit and cheese and so she had made a strawberry and pineapple quesadilla with peanut butter dip. Washing her hands and her face and rinsing out her mouth, too queasy to even think about having the taste of toothpaste in her mouth, Buffy made her way out of the bathroom and to the living room.

Lying down on the couch, hand on her stomach, she slowly drifted into sleep.






Spike made his way into his flat as fast as possible while still being quiet. It really had been a long day at the office and he was eager to come home.

He had no doubt, even now, that the reason for it was Buffy.

Buffy.

His wife.

'How weird is that?'

In the days since she had moved in with him, he had been enthralled by her innocent charm and sweet shyness. And she truly was innocent, so much so that he had even taken to sleeping in sweat pants and t-shirts or undershirts, and walking around his own flat fully clothed. Given that the first time she'd seen him without a shirt, since that night in Vegas, as he was changing, she had blushed profusely and locked herself in the bath for a good ten minutes, then avoided his gaze for the rest of the day.

Dropping his briefcase by the door, he made his way quickly to the closet, taking off his suit jacket and tie on his way.

Changing into his sleep clothes, he made his way to the side of the bed closest to the door, surprised when he found it empty.

Spike frowned. 'If she isn't here...'

He made his way back into the living room, to search for her, and smiled as the sight of Buffy quietly sleeping on his couch greeted him.

William took the few steps to reach the couch and crouched in front of Buffy's sleeping form. Lifting his hand, he brushed back a strand of her hair and tucked in behind her ear before letting the back of his fingers gently caress the skin of her jaw.

Running his thumb over her bottom lip, he leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss, halting a hairsbreadth away from his destination. He wavered for a moment, jaw twitching in restraint, before sighing and pressing his lips to leave a kiss on her cheek instead.

When he kissed her...

'When I kiss you... you will know it. You will feel it in your soul.'

Gathering her in his arms, he made his way to the bedroom to deposit her in his bed as he had done almost every day since she had come back into his life.

Tucking her under the covers, he turned to leave the room and stopped as her soft, sleepy voice reached his ears.

"William?"

He turned to look at her, a questioning look upon his face.

"Could you... stay here?" She asked. A beat and then...

"Sure." He nodded, "just..." pointing to the corner of the room not visible from where she laid he continued. "I'm a drag that diabolical torture device, the comfy chair, over here. Do me fine." He said, half-jokingly, and she giggled, before realizing he meant it as he made his way to go get said chair.

"No!" She interrupted and he turned back to look at her again. "I mean..." Buffy moved making space for him, on the bed, next to her. "Here. Will you just hold me?" She asked, dropping her gaze to the blanket covering her. "It's..." 'easier' "...I can sleep better, when you're near." Peaking at him from under lower lashes, she saw him smile as he nodded and made his way towards the bed, to her.

Sliding under the covers, he hesitated but a moment before wrapping his arms around her slight form, loving the feel of her body as she curled up against him, before she drifted into sleep with him swiftly following.

Spike sat in his office, the papers of his latest case spread all around his desk, but his mind was somewhere else. Or better said on someone else.

His growing... feelings for Buffy were... well, he wouldn't say unexpected.

You can't live with a beautiful woman whom you had been attracted to since the first night you met her, and lately, shared a space on his... her... their bed and not develop feelings.

So, feelings were there. Definitely. He guessed it just surprised him how fast they had come to be.

He wanted her. Of course he wanted her. He perved over her in private - hand wrapped around his cock, images of her spread out on their bed for him to take flooding his mind - and in front of her - leering at her until her cheeks coloured a nice rosy pink - just because of what her blush did to his libido.

He also knew he wanted, felt the need, to protect her. From everyone.

He guessed that included himself.

Spike was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that no one yet knew that he was married and that Buffy was his wife.

Why he hadn't told anyone, besides Gunn - though he suspected, wouldn't of known even now, if the younger man hadn't shown up as his flat - that he was married and that he was going to be a father soon was what seemed to be bothering him.

Wasn't that why he had asked Buffy to move in with him? Wasn't that the whole purpose to this arrangement? For her to help him get ahead on his career?

Then why was he so hesitant to let it be known? Why was he so hesitant to use her?

He paused in his thoughts, sitting straighter in his chair, the reason of his hesitation made clear to him, as guilt washed over his being.

He didn't want to use her.

Sure, he had convinced himself, believed it still, that he was helping Buffy. She needed him, they needed him, Buffy and his child. It just felt wrong, on so many levels, to basically be taking advantage of a scared girl that had come to him in all honesty to do the right thing and hopefully, even though she never asked, to get his support.

As much as he wanted to continue with their agreement, an accord she had agreed to, he couldn't in good conscious, use her, or justify his selfish actions.

Spike knew he would be there for her, he was resolute in that. He would offer her his home, his support and himself willingly. He'd treat her as respectfully as any wife should be treated, he would be her devoted husband, but he wouldn't use her.

He couldn't.

His feelings of guilt, for the time pacified, Spike picked up a stack of papers from his desk and began to read the words printed on the pages once again, this time successfully being able to concentrate on his work.






Buffy was sitting on one of the wooden, padded, green chairs of the waiting room of the doctor's office, drinking the bottle of water that was required for her sonogram, waiting for her name to be called.

Today was her first official doctor's visit since the first time she had went to the clinic to confirm her pregnancy back in Sunnydale after Joyce's passing.

She was lucky that William had not insisted on coming with her after her initial refusal. Despite his constant flirting and, as of late, the sharing of space on his bed with her, he still seemed reluctant to push or cross any boundaries with her. Which she was thankful for.

As much as she knew she was using him, and he, her, and as attracted as they both were to each other, the thought, just the mere thought of taking their play acting to the point of letting their agreement become an actual marriage, benefits and all, scared her.

"Buffy Summers?" A strong but gentle voice broke her from her thoughts and Buffy looked up into the kind brown eyes of the nurse standing in the doorway, holding a clipboard.

Standing up, and gathering her purse and the light sweater she had brought with her, she made her way towards the young girl and followed her out of the waiting room and through a side hall before they stepped into one of the rooms.




Buffy sat atop the medical examining chair after quickly having changed into the hospital gown that had been provided to her. The nurse had left her, after checking her blood pressure, blood sugar levels and her weight, to wait for the doctor that would see her through her pregnancy.

She took in her surroundings wishing the small window, placed high on one of the walls was lower so she could have something, other than the boring medical instruments in the room, to look at.

Buffy smiled as an attractive redheaded woman stepped into the room.

"Buffy Summers?" She asked looking at her clipboard.

"That's me." Buffy answered and they both breathed out a laugh.

"Interesting name," the doctor commented.

Buffy smiled, "thank you."

"I am Dr. Montgomery." She smiled. "Tell me, is there a specific reason for your visit today?"

"Just a check up, I guess."

"Is this your first doctor's visit since the pregnancy?"

"No. Second. I uh... had one in Sunnydale before I moved to L.A."

"Right." Dr. Montgomery said writing some things in the clipboard before setting it aside and standing up. "Lay down for me, please?" She asked making her way towards Buffy as the blonde did as she was asked.

Lifting the hospital gown, exposing her boy-short style panties and her toned, tanned stomach, the redhead placed her hands upon Buffy's abdomen.

"Do you know how far along you are, Buffy?"

"A month and a half? Two months?"

"Okay..." Taking her stethoscope, the green eyed doctor placed it on Buffy's abdomen as well, listening for the baby's heartbeat. Putting the stethoscope back around her neck, she crossed the room and wheeled the sonogram machine towards the examining table where Buffy laid.

Picking up a bottle, Dr. Montgomery warned Buffy of the coldness of the water soluble gel before turning the bottle and letting a few globs gather. Turning on the sonogram machine, she picked up the scan head probe and placed it on Buffy's tummy, spreading the gel.

Buffy watched as the screen of the monitor was filled with a black and white picture.

She watched, entranced, as the doctor pointed out the baby's head, arms, legs, and heart before asking if she would like a print out.

Buffy nodded numbly, feeling awed and in shock, staying that way for the rest of the visit.




Walking out of the building, the print out picture of her baby held safely in her hands, Buffy took in her surroundings.

The sun was shinning brightly in the cloudless sky, a rare thing for smog filled LA, the sounds of traffic were low and far away. It was a perfect day all around, it almost seemed like a haven, and all she could feel was the pain in her chest and the tears in her eyes.

'William,' she thought. 'I need to go see William. He'll make... he'll make it better. Make the pain go away.'

A sure stride to her steps, she started her journey to William's office. The irony of the one person that was causing her to be filled of guilt, be the only one who was able to make her forget it, never entering her thoughts.

Stepping out of the elevator on the 6th floor of the Wolfram & Hart building, Buffy made the slightly familiar trek to her husbands office.

Looking into her purse for the compact mirror she kept there, Buffy didn't notice the young, brown haired man coming her way until it was too late and they collided, his papers and her purse falling to the grown, contents scattering.

"I'm terribly sorry."

Buffy's eyes snapped to the man's face, hopefully, when she heard his English accent. She smiled sadly as she met his gaze and started to crouch to gather her belongings.

"No, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention." She explained.

"Please," the man spoke again and reached for her elbow. "Let me," he said and crouched down as she stood up.

Picking up her belongings and handing them to her, he spoke again.

"I'm Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Were you, oh..." he trailed off as he noticed Spike's business card in between her belongings. "You're here to see William Pratt?" He inquired and proceeded to pick up his papers.

"Oh.. uh... yeah. Yes. You know my--" She paused and sighed quickly. "You know William?"

Standing up, he handed her, her mirror and lipstick case before turning to walk with her back to Spike's office.

"Yes, I was just... I just left his office," he said, brow furrowing as he looked back at his papers and noticed something small sticking out from in between them.

He went to grab it just as they were once again entering the open door of the office of his colleague and friend.

"Uh, William?" He inquired absentmindedly as he picked the sonogram picture from his papers and deduced it belonged to the young woman seeking his friends services out. 'NIED case?' He wondered. "This young woman is looking--"

"Buffy." William interrupted and Wesley looked up.

'Oh.' Wesley looked at the sonogram picture again as Spike made his way towards them. 'Proof then?' He thought since his friend seemed to know the young woman already.

"Buffy, love," William resisted the urge to pull Buffy into his arms as he reached her, "what are you doing here?" He asked instead.

Buffy looked up, meeting Williams gaze and felt the guilt she was feeling start to lessen.

'Has she been crying?' Spike thought, noticing the redness to her eyes. He took a step towards her and seeing the... hope, shining in her eyes, reached for her hands.

Buffy ignored his hands and walked into his arms instead, wrapping her own around his waist and letting her head rest against his chest, her body sagging in relief when he hugged her back, the sound of his heartbeat helping to calm her down somewhat.

Buffy didn't know why, or... she didn't want to know why William made everything easier. Why when she was around him she could forget everything that was wrong in her life.

She didn't want to know why, in his arms, she felt like she was nothing more than a woman in love with her husband, and why being in his arms made her forget that the child she carried wasn't really theirs.






Wesley looked on, brow furrowing. He could understand a client being emotional and needing support. Hell, Wolfram and Hart had a floor of just suites for clients that needed their support, but the blondes were standing too close, literally, for him to be comfortable.

As lawyers, there were client/counsellor rules they needed to follow, and as Spike rested his head on top of Buffy's, eyes closed and subtly sniffing her hair, Wesley worried his friend was close to crossing a line. If he hadn't already.

"Uh... William?" He spoke and both blondes turned to look at him. It was a shame she was a client because even he was forced to admit they did make a stunning couple. "A word, please?"

Spike met Buffy's eyes, silently asking if she would be alright alone for a moment. At her slight nod and small smile they stepped away from each other, arms falling to their sides, before taking a few steps away, Buffy walking towards a soft leather chair and sitting there, and William stepping into the conference room conjoined to his office.

Closing the door behind him, he turned to his frowning friend.

"Alright, mate?" He asked.

"No, I'm afraid not." Wesley replied and Spike frowned, brows furrowing in confusion.

After a few moments of quiet, Spike hesitated for a second before his curiosity got the better of him. "Well, gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"What's your relationship with Ms..." Wesley's eyes drifted to the closed door. "With..." He pointed generally at Spike's office, "the young lady in there?"

The question caught Spike by surprise.

"W-what?" He inquired, eyes wide. "Why?"

Wesley mistook his panicked look for guilt. He sighed. "I must advice, Spike. I don't think it wise for you to be getting involved with a client--"

"Buffy's not a client!" Spike interrupted, vehemently.

Wesley's eyebrow rose in question. "She's not?"

"No!"

"What is she then?" Wes inquired and Spike froze.

'Shit.'

Spike's eyes darted around the room, trying to figure out what to tell the other man what Buffy was to him.

Wesley sighed, frustrated. Spike's body language and eyes betrayed his friend's thoughts, whatever they may be. He leaned back against the wooden, conference table to wait for the blond's explanation and looked down to the papers in his hands. His gaze landed on the sonogram picture he still held.

"Oh," he whispered, "oh." He looked up at his friend's still panicked face. "Oh."

Wesley stood from his leaning position causing the blond to look up at him.

Spike frowned, pausing in his thoughts, and followed the older man's gaze down to the papers clutched in his hand and the sonogram picture there. He smiled, realizing the reason for Buffy's impromptu visit and reached for the black and white picture.

Liberating it from his friend's grasp, he brought it close to his face to study, as blurry and unidentifiable as it was, the image there.

Spike grinned, forgetting that his colleague was there until the older man spoke again.

"You got your girlfriend pregnant." He stated more than questioned and Spike wondered as to why any hint of animosity tainted the man's voice.

"She's not my girlfriend," the blond said and turned around to walk back into his office.

"Oh, so, one night stand then?"

Spike's hand stilled on the doorknob.

"No!" He growled, wounded by the truth of Wesley's statement. 'It doesn't matter, that's in the past. She's here now. We're having a family.' "Buffy is... she's my..." He swallowed, "...wife."

Wesley scoffed then. He would have known if his friend had gotten, or was married. "For how long now?" He asked mockingly.

Spike sighed, looked down at the picture he now held in his hand, and turned his face sideways to address his friend over his shoulder.

"About six weeks," he said, opening the door and walking into his office, leaving his friend in shock to stare after him as he walked over to the still sitting figure, and pulled his wife into his arms.

Spike waited patiently as Buffy dressed for the party slash gathering they were expected to attend, seeing as how they were the guests of honour and all.

A bit over a week had passed since the day Buffy had gone to see him at his office. The day Wesley found out about them, and their marriage, and their child. And as such, so had everyone else.

By the time he had escorted Buffy back to the elevators, and pressed a few bills into her hand so she could take a cab home, even the mail boy had known about his sudden nuptials. Congratulating them on it, as he made his way out of the elevator and into his floor, to deliver the mail.

Sighing, he had asked Buffy to wait for him there while he gathered his stuff so he could see her home, and take the rest of the day off as well.

It wasn't till he showed up at work the next day that he had been bombarded by questions from his co-workers and he was forced to do that which he hadn't wanted to. Stick to his part of the agreement.

Knowing, just knowing, that as soon as he had confirmed the rumours, and told the story of how he and Buffy had met, dated, fallen in love, and eloped, it would only be a matter of hours, if not minutes, before the senior partners would know the 'truth' behind office gossip. And if he would of still been set in using his unplanned marriage to get ahead in his career, he suspected, he would now be standing tall, and proud, and covertly giddy at how his "reluctance" to share his relationship with the world, made him seem more of a good man, who would rather get what he wanted from hard work instead of looks or possessions, and therefore a better, more worthy candidate, for the promotions he so wished for.

He had sighed instead. Feeling more like a git than a well man.




Spike stood from his sitting position on the couch, fiddling with the silver cufflink holding the cuff of the sleeve of his shirt together, and wishing for a drink to calm his nerves. A drink he had promised not to take since he was going to be driving and having his senses in any way dimmed was not an option with his pregnant wife in the car with him.

His 'very hot, sexy, pregnant, wife.' He added in his mind as she stepped out of the room.




Buffy smiled, head ducked shyly, as William's lips parted in silent appraisal of her looks.

He had come home late two nights past, pensive and reserved, and when she questioned him about it he had informed her that Mr. Survata, a senior partner and one his bosses, had heard of their 'elopement' and hadn't seen it fit for his "most promising employee and his lovely wife to not celebrate such a wonderful event," and as such had proposed that they have one now, and offered his own house to hold such an event.

Buffy hadn't needed William to tell her how big of a deal this was, and as such she had spent the next day frantic and nervous and trying to find the perfect dress to wear. When it had turned out that her own wardrobe was seriously lacking of such clothing, she had made an impulsive decision and dipped into the bit of her savings she still had left and went in search for a dress.

Noting the reverential look in her husband's eyes, she knew she had made the right choice in picking the gown of flowing, pale blue silk, that she knew, would compliment his eyes better than her own. It was a halter, goddess-like cut dress. The top piece embraced the curves of her breasts in a tantalizing matter, yet was well-designed and relaxed enough to still be respectable. A rope like belt of twisted braid and silver in color, lay just beneath, brushing at the bottom of the swell of her breasts and wound around her midsection tying in a loose bow at her front, emphasizing her slender waist. Heeled goddess sandals, in the same silver color of the belt, adorned her feet, and her hair was half gathered up, falling down her shoulders and back in soft, golden waves. A few tendrils left in front to curl around her face.




William cleared his throat remembering himself and walked to her side, extending his hand to take hers in his. He swallowed the saliva that had formed in his mouth and was glad that his mouth hadn't been open enough for it to come out as drool.

"You look," he paused at a loss for words. "Right stunning, love." He complimented.

Standing by her side, dressed in only a black suit, sans tie, and a dark blue shirt, the top two buttons undone, he felt slightly underdressed, but then she smiled at him whispering a shy, soft "thank you," and he realized, with a woman as beautiful as her in his arm, no one would notice, or care, what he was wearing.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" He asked and she nodded, slipping her arm through his, making his skin tingle at the warmth her arm and fingers created as they rested against his covered forearm.

Grabbing his wallet and keys he lead them out of the flat. Locking the door behind them, they leisurely made their way down to the lifts. Spike pressed the arrowed button and waited for the elevator car to reach them and for the doors to open with the soft 'ping'. They stepped in and rode down to the first floor in quiet, exchanging only slight glances and timid smiles.

Stepping out of the elevator as they reached ground level, they made their way to the doors. Bidding the night watchman and then the doorman goodnight, they stepped out into the sidewalk and made their way to his car.

William unlocked the passenger side door, as they got there, and held it open for her.

"Thank you," she smiled and he helped her into the car. Locking the door and shutting it, he jogged his way around the back and to the other side and got in himself. Turning on the ignition, he pulled out of the car park and into the street, driving off in to the sultry LA night.

Spike stepped into his office the Monday of the following week. The weekend had been a good one, all things considered.

Saturday night, the night of the gathering slash party, had been a success. Everyone had become as smitten with his wonderful wife as he had. Her youth and innocence mixed with the sophistication she exuded, having won over many, if not all, his co-workers and bosses.

"How's the wife, William?" A male voice sounded out from the still darkened shadows of his office, making him jump and drop his briefcase to the floor in reaction.

Spike scowled at the shadowy figure sitting in his office chair and the movement of its shoulders as it quietly laughed, and bent to pick up his fallen things.

"Liam." He greeted dispassionately, ignoring the question, and moved to the wall to turn some of the lights on. "Why are you here?" He questioned turning to his friend. "This early," he continued at Angel's raised eyebrow.

Angel stood up from the chair and made his way around the desk to lean against the front, crossing his arms across his chest as he did.

"So... she's living with you?"

Spike met Angel's eyes and clenched his jaw before muttering, "straight to the point then, eh?" He moved to his desk, leaving his briefcase on the floor by the foot of his chair. "Yeh, so?"

"Save it, William." Angel responded, slightly snappy. "You can't fool me."

Spike sighed closing his eyes and placed his hands flat on the top of the desk, leaning on them as his foot lightly tap-kicked the bottom drawer. He let out a harsh breath making the papers slightly rattle.

"I know I can't, Liam," he spoke and looked up at the ceiling, "but I'm hoping you care for me enough to..." He trailed off and was quiet for a second before he dropped his head and raised his eyes, meeting Liam's own over-the-shoulder gaze with his from below lowered lashes. Making him look like the self-doubting little boy he still was sometimes. "...Help me in this."

Angel turned his head to stare forward again. "She's pregnant?" He sighed out the question and stood, turning to face his friend.

"She is." Spike answered quietly.

Angel's eyes darted softly from side to side. Thinking.

He met his friend's gaze, "are you sure it's even your kid?"

Spike looked at Angel with fire in his eyes.

"Hey," Angel raised his hands in a protective, surrender manner. "I'm just asking, man. You never know."

Spike sighed and looked away walking from behind his desk towards a couch and plopping down on it, offhandedly noting that it was the same couch Buffy had been sitting in when she told him she was pregnant.

"She... she wouldn't lie to me. Not about that."

At Angel's sceptical raised brow he continued.

"She's not like that, okay?! She's... she wouldn't do that. She's not that kind of girl." He looked past Angel's shoulder to stare at some spot on the far wall. "Buffy's all... light and sweetness and," he sighed, "innocence--"

"Oh my God!" Liam exclaimed.

"What?" Spike's eyes snapped back to Angel's.

"Oh my God." He said again, slightly whispering this time.

"What?" William inquired, a bit more persistently.

"You... you love her." Angel stated unbelievingly.

"What? I-I don't." Spike responded, eyes wide.

"Well no, not yet, but you're falling." Angel stated matter-of-factly.

"Don't be ridiculous, I don't even know the girl-"

"And yet, you're falling in love with her." Angel said amusingly.

"I am... not."

"Aha!" Liam exclaimed again, "see?"

"See what?"

"You hesitated."

"Did... not."

"You did it again," the brown haired man said smugly.

"Whatever." Spike rolled his eyes and stood up to walk towards the other end of the room to gather his coffee cup.

"Admit it. You're falling."

"I. Am. Not." He said, making sure to not hesitate this time and looked into the empty coffee cup.

Angel laughed. "Buffy and Spike," he sang, "sitting in a tree--"

"Gods, Liam, how grade school can you be?" He growled over his shoulder as he walked out of his office in search for coffee.

"First comes," Liam paused. "Well, in your case marriage." He managed to say jauntily before Spike's "you best be out of my office by the time I come back," reached his ears, and the door to the office closed behind the blonde’s retreating form.

Angel chuckled loudly before dancing his way to the desk, humming the rest of the song as he did.

With one last chuckle at his own antics, he picked up the phone receiver. His friend could say what he wanted, he knew him better than anyone else, and knew that the blond was falling for his... wife, and Spike had been right. He did care enough for the younger man to go along with him in this lie, which he supposed wouldn't be a lie for long, not if the blonde’s fell in love.

Liam happily dialled his wife's number, suddenly feeling in a 'romantic dinner' kind of mood.






Spike walked back to his office, fresh cup of coffee in his hand and poked his head inside, sighing in relief as he saw his friend had indeed left, just like he'd asked. He walked in, closing the doors softly behind him and turning on the rest of the lights as he made his way towards his desk.

Setting the cup of steaming hot coffee on a coaster on the corner, he sat and reached for his briefcase on the floor. Placing it atop his desk, he opened it and removed the papers he needed for the day, before closing it again and moving it aside.

Opening up a case file, he started reading just as his phone rang.

"William Pratt." He answered and rolled his eyes as his friend's voice drifted up from the earpiece.

"Sitting in a tree. K-i-s-s-i-n--" The voice cut off as he hung up, as a small smile forming on his lips as a chuckle threatened to spill out.

"That weekend in Vegas?" Spike started as they lay in bed later that same night. He had been thinking all day about the talk Angel and himself had had earlier that day in his office, and he had known that, even if he did not want to admit it, not yet anyways, Liam wasn't too far off on the truth of his feelings for his wife. "What was that to you?"

Buffy's thoughts paused and her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Spike sighed and raised up on one elbow, studying Buffy's profile against the off white pillow below her head.

"We had chemistry, you and I. Had a right nice time, dinnit we?"

Buffy looked up into his eyes, a small, nostalgic smile playing on her full lips. "We did."

The light from the lamp at their bedside table framed his head making his mess of bleached blond curls look almost angelic. A halo placed upon his head. An angel of mercy come down to save her. Her angel.

She sighed. 'I think I might just love you.'

If her slight epiphany was revealed in her eyes, she was sure he hadn't noticed since he continued talking.

"There was something there between us, and I don't know if you've noticed, love, but uh..." his hand had trailed up to caress the softness of her arm, "don't you feel like there's something still there?"

'Oh God, does he… does he feel it too?'

"...Or that there could be? Maybe?"

She shook her head, partly to shake herself out of her thoughts, partly to clear out the confusion, before his words hit her fully.

"What-- what are you...?"

He mistook her suppressed hope for wariness.

"Nothing. Just... nothing." He breathed out and plopped back down on the bed, his arms coming to rest one, over his eyes, the other across his belly.

"No," this time she was the one to raise up to her elbow, "tell me." She could see his jaw twitching in uncertainty. "Please?"

He raised the arm covering his eyes and took her in.

Her long hair was pulled back in a small ponytail away from her face, a few un-cooperating strands were messily tucked behind her ears, and her green eyes were shining in the soft light of the lamp.

"We're playing pretend, aren't we? To a point, I mean." At her confused look he continued. "We're friends, at least I'd like to think so--"

"We are," she interrupted and smiled at him.

"Right," he smiled back. "And we're playing at the happy family. With the dad and, the mum, and..." he nodded his head, signalling her stomach, "a little bit on the way."

"Okay," her smile faltered.

"Just," he sat up and leaned against the headboard legs crossed, and she followed suit, sitting to his side, facing him, legs crossed as well. "Would it be so bad... so far fetched... to think that it could work, we could work?" His gaze drifted to his hands. "That with enough time... we... could be... real?"

"Oh God," she groaned, her stomach rolling in what she though was nervousness until a sudden wave of nausea hit her fully, helping her to suppress the feeling of guilt that had been becoming stronger a bit more every day.

"Please, if it's no good..." He sighed. "It was just an idea, Buffy--"

"Not that," she croaked and he looked up at her. One hand was resting on her stomach, the other covering her mouth, her nostrils flaring as she took in deep breaths.

"Oh," he said, "oh!" Understanding dawning over him, he sat up straighter, ready to help.

The bed rippled with his movements and her eyes widened two seconds before she bolted from the bed and to their bathroom.

Spike got up and sighed, making his way to the kitchen, to fetch her a glass of water, mumbling the whole way about misbehaving sprogs and their bad timing when he's trying to ask his wife if they could date.






Spike walked back into the bathroom just as the toilet flushed. Setting the glass of water on the counter, he moved towards Buffy to help her stand. Offering his hand, he pulled her up and guided her over to the sink.

"You okay, love?" He asked handing her the glass.

She took it gratefully and nodded, taking a sip to rinse out her mouth before taking a few more gulps.

"Need anything else?" He asked, the hand resting on her back making small soothing circles.

"No," she shook her head, smiling at his reflection in the mirror. Finishing the glass of water, she turned, burying her face in his neck, slightly nuzzling it as she stifled a yawn.

Lifting her up into his arms and elbowing the lights off, he walked them back to the bed. Setting her atop, he helped her get under the covers before slipping in himself. Reaching over he turned off the lamp and proceeded to lay down, pulling her into his arms.

They were still for a long moment before Buffy spoke. His name falling from her lips in a tiny whisper.

"Yeah?"

She was silent for a long time and Spike was about to inquire again when she finally spoke.

"Yes."

His brow furrowed in confusion, "huh's that, love?"

"I said," she cleared her throat, "yes." She took a deep breath before continuing. "With time," she said, "I do think this... thing, between us, can be real."

Spike's eyes widened and he took a breath to speak before her voice interrupted his not yet formed words.

"I want... us..." she sighed, "to be real."

William closed his eyes and let out the breath he had taken. Angling his face to look down at her, he met her eyes, hers shining with affection, and, he was sure she could see the same in his.

Hand resting on her waist, he leaned down, and with a smile, covered her lips with his own. All the while thinking that Liam had been wrong.

He wasn't falling.

He was already there.

"With time," she said, "I do think this... thing, between us, can be real."

Spike's eyes widened and he took a breath to speak before her voice interrupted his not yet formed words.

"I want... us..." she sighed, "to be real."

William closed his eyes and let out the breath he had taken. Angling his face to look down at her, he met her eyes, hers shining with affection, and, he was sure she could see the same in his.

Hand resting on her waist, he leaned down, and with a smile, covered her lips with his own. All the while thinking that Liam had been wrong.

He wasn't falling.

He was already there.


*****


The kiss was a sweet one. Soft and peaceful and slow in its intensity. His lips brushing her own tenderly, a touch so gentle it could have been mistaken for a slight breeze of air, a soft expelled breath, before they became firm against her mouth, parting just enough to nibble on the fullness of her bottom lip in such a pace that promised her more, left her wanting for more, if she would only allow it.

William's hand moved, arm wrapping around her to bring her closer to him. Their eyes fluttered closed, their hearts beating a tentative symphony against the others chests, as he relished in the warmth of her body, alight with passion, and the quiet sighs and slightly muffled mewls of pleasure that innocently escaped her.

He moved towards her then, rolling and settling them so that part of his body covered hers giving his other hand the freedom to roam about her hair.

His long fingers worked gently as they pulled the hair band off, letting it drop to the softness of the pillow, discarded and unwanted once it no longer held her golden, honey locks imprisoned. His hand moved to the back of her neck, thumb rubbing small circles against her pulse point, making her body erupt in goose bumps as he gently led his fingers into the sea of her hair, loving the way the strands curled around them.

They broke away from each other, panting. Their lungs greedily pulling in air, readying themselves for the ambush of the other's lips, before their mouths crashed again. Lips parting sooner this time and ready to taste, to savour, the other.

William ran his tongue against her bottom lip, gentle and sure, and Buffy responded to his invitation, her mouth opening, welcoming him in, as her own tongue slid out to taste, to caress, his.

Spike gasped and groaned, the fingers of both his hands tightening, digging, some into her soft flesh, the others tangling further in the soft strands of silk as she responded in kind. Her own hands, that had till then rested flat against his strong, firm shoulders, making their way, one up and around his neck, fingers further trailing their way into his hair, fisting around the bleached locks as the other moved. Smoothing down the fabric of his black cotton t-shirt. Making it's way down to the firm muscles of his abdomen, trailing each one over the material of his shirt, then over and around, to rest at the bottom of his powerful back. Her small fingers slipping past the waistband of his pyjama bottoms to slightly brush against the starting swell of his ass. The soft downy hairs there tickling her fingertips, and bringing him even closer as his leg slipped to rest in between her own.

Buffy moved then, rolling onto her back and bringing him with her. She parted her legs, letting her thighs, and the apex of them, cradle his slim hips. His full weight pressing her against the bed in the most delicious way.

William pulled away and whimpered as his erection pressed and settled against the warmth of her sex, stealing a breathy moan from her as well before his lips seeked hers again, his teeth holding captive her lower lip in between their bluntness, delicately biting, liberating, and nibbling at it again. Her tongue flicked out to taste him and he replied by encountering hers with his, gently pressing and circling hers, luring, tempting it out of her delightful mouth and into the warm cavern of his own.

He knew they weren't ready to take that next step. Not now, not yet. He knew it was too soon, knew that they still had a long way to get to that, knew that feelings needed to be revealed, their relationship needed to be established. But he was just a man, and as such, having her soft body beneath his own and pressed so intimately, that he could feel every swell, every dent, her hands wrapped around his body as his own held her tight, and her lips yielding to the suggestion of pure pleasure and ecstasy their love making could bring and their kisses inspired, he wished, with all his might he wished, they were.

Instead he had to settle, for the time being, on the whisper of a promise to have her willing and ready to love him, in all the ways and basic meaning of the word, as he loved her.

There was no doubt in his mind now, as he drowned in her gentle kisses and the feel of her body, all soft curves and yielding flesh, beneath his own, that he had, in all the significance of the words, in its purest, rawest form, aided by her innocence and naivety, by her sweetness and charm, fallen madly, and completely in love with her. Body and soul.

William kissed her harder then, pushing his tongue more forcefully into her mouth, tangling with hers, to keep the words from forming and spilling from his mouth.

As Buffy cradled his body with her own, his full weight resting on her, making her feel protected and, for the first time in her life, fully loved, as a woman, she silently thanked him for deepening the kiss. For just as surely as he had known, her slight epiphany of earlier that night had become clearer and she knew now as well, without a doubt, that she loved him. She loved him. Mind and body. Heart and soul.

~Four Months Later~



"Spike?" Lilah Morgan, personal assistant to the senior partners, inquired stepping inside the office of the blond man. "You in here?"

"Yeah. Kind of anyways." Came the muffled reply. "You need something?" He asked as he finished pulling the tie over his head and tightened it around his collar, fixing it. He stood up, grabbing his suit jacket as he did, and shrugged it on.

"You going somewhere?" She asked as he grabbed his briefcase.

"Yeah, and I'm late, ducks."

"I need to talk to you." Lilah stated.

"And again I say: I am running late. Any way you can make this quick?" He made his way from behind his desk and to the office door, Lilah following him.

"You're in a hurry."

"I am." Spike said. "I thought we already covered this." He muttered, rolling his eyes and turned off the lights to his office, ushering the brunette outside and pulling the door close behind them.

"Any reason why?" She followed him to the elevator and watched amusedly as he repeatedly hit the button that would bring the car up to their floor.

"I'm late for my wife's doctor's appointment." The corners of his mouth twitched into a guarded smile and she looked down as a twinge of jealousy ran through her. "But uh... you needed something?"

"Oh. Right. I wanted to talk to you."

Spike raised his eyebrows, lips pursing in a silent question.

"It's about--" her voice cut off as the elevator doors opened and Spike stepped in.

"Right. Find me tomorrow, ducks, and we'll talk." He managed to say as the doors closed behind him and the lift started its way down.

"...a promotion." Lilah finished in a whisper before sighing and turning around to go back to her own office.






Spike walked up to the room door, the nurse at the front desk told him his wife would be at, and lightly knocked on it before opening it up to take a peak inside. He smiled as he saw Buffy laying on top of the medical examining table reading a magazine and only wearing a hospital gown. A faded diamond pattern sheet covering her lower body.

"Hey love," he greeted, grinning at her shocked gaze.

"William, I-- what are you doing here?" He closed the door and made his way towards her. "I thought you had a thing - a court work thing."

"I did. It got done pretty quick so I thought I'd surprise you." He leaned down to leave a slow and lingering kiss on her lips, both of them blushing as Dr. Montgomery walked into the room.

"Let me guess," the redheaded doctor said, obviously amused, "you must be William." She extended her hand and Spike reached out to take it, shaking it as he would that of a client.

He smiled and cleared his throat. "Yes m’am. William Pratt."

"Addison Montgomery," she said closing the door and smiling as the blond shyly settled himself besides his wife. "How are we doing today?" She continued, addressing Buffy.

"We're doing good." Buffy smiled handing the magazine she was reading to William and placing a hand atop her swollen belly.

"American Baby." Spike mouthed the words, interested. "Where do I..."

Buffy pointed to her purse laying on one of the chairs and William picked it up. He paused as he opened it to place the magazine inside, seeing an old photograph, slightly wrinkled and curled at the corners, laying on the bottom of her purse.

It was of Buffy, a much younger Buffy. Surrounded by what he guessed were her high school friends - some he recognized others not so much - among them, was a brown haired, hulking boy, his arms around the waist of his wife. 'Ex-boy toy,' he guessed.

Noticing the redhead doctor talking again he put off asking her about it for a later time.

"...Have you decided if you want to know the sex, yet?"

"You can tell that now?" Spike asked, suddenly very interested in their conversation.

"Well, actually, sometimes it's possible to tell as early as 12 weeks, but Buffy here," Dr. Montgomery signalled the young blonde, "has been reluctant to have me tell her. Not that I've been pushing," she quickly added with a half laugh, "but she's--"

"I've been indecisive." Buffy finished, interrupting the doctor and smiling up at her husband. "I didn't know if you'd want to know." She told him, slightly self-conscious.

"Do you?" He questioned as the doctor busied herself getting the sonogram machine in place and everything in order for their monthly check up.

"I don't know." She answered honestly. "Kinda, I want to. But... at the same time, not."

Spike took her hand then, smiling down at her as he brought it up and brushed his lips across her knuckles.

"You wanna be surprised, yeah?"

Buffy smiled shyly and nodded.

"Then my love, surprised we shall be." He leaned down and, smiling, left a kiss upon her brow, sneaking a subtle sniff at her hair. "Will that hurt her?" He asked as he noticed the doctor smearing some sort of gel on her stomach, using a wide wand-like object attached to the sonogram machine.

"No." Buffy answered him instead, "it kinda tickles," she let out a small giggle, proving it so.

"And there," the redhead interjected, after a few moments of silence, pointing to the middle of the screen as she did so, "is your baby."

William's hand grasped his wife's tighter as he stared, in wonderment, at the fuzzy yet focused enough image of their child.

"Buffy," He whispered, his eyes filling with tears as his heart swelled with love. "Look at her." He said, awed and with a reverential hum to his voice. "He's... beautiful."

Swallowing down the lump that had formed in her throat at his worshipful words and gaze, and pushing away the guilt that threatened to overwhelm her, Buffy did the only think she could think of, and with a gentle tug on his arm brought him down for a chain of sweet kisses.

Excusing herself, Dr. Montgomery quickly made her way out of the room to give the couple some privacy.

Buffy could feel William's lips mouthing something against her own in between kisses, as part of the kisses, and when she separated from him enough to make out his silent claim, she cried. Tears spilling freely from her eyes and tumbling down her face as she responded in kind.

"I love you, too."

"What do you think about 'Annabeth'?" William asked as they lay in bed later that night.

"Who?" Buffy asked bunching up the white cotton material of her new 'Lovin' My Buddha Belly' maternity tank top to expose her stomach and stifled a yawn. She was tired. No, exhausted was more like it. They had gone out to lunch after her doctors appointment and then shopping at William's insistence, since the night before she had been complaining about having nothing fit anymore, not even the maternity clothes she had bought just two weeks before.

"For a name," he glanced up at her, smiling as she took her finger and pressed down softly on her belly, then back as they waited for the kick that usually followed. "For a girl." Their smiles grew larger as her skin moved with the force of a tiny foot kicking underneath.

"Annabeth?" She questioned, brow furrowing in thought.

"Yeah."

She smiled, "it's pretty. I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Buffy nodded. "And for a boy?" She questioned, wondering just how much thought he had given to this.

"I don't know. I always, ever since you know, you told me, and it sunk in, I've always pictured a little girl."

"You have?"

"Yeah." It was his turn to smile. "A little girl. Looks just like you, she does. Blonde hair, green eyes, cute, little, button nose." Buffy giggled at the face he made. "But for a boy...?" He hummed in thought.

Buffy looked down, insecure in the thought she was about to express. Noticing this, Spike gave her his full attention without pushing.

"I..." she paused and took a deep breath. "I-- I've always... I was thinking..." She sighed frustrated. "I like 'William,'" she was finally able to say and Spike smiled slightly before making his face blank again.

"That's good," he said, voice serious, "because William likes you too."

She looked up at him and his twinkling blue eyes and breathed out a laugh. "That's not what I meant."

"I know." Spike said and made his way up the bed to sit next to her and take her into his arms. Bringing her head to rest upon his shoulder. "You just got kind of shy and frowny face there for a moment. Wanted to make you smile again."

She smirked against his chest, "so what do you think?"

"About 'William'?"

"Yeah."

He shrugged, "I don't know. I mean, it's my name. I never loved it, but..." he trailed off as she interrupted.

"It means protector," she said, voice soft. "And... that's what you have been. To me."

Her admission of what she thought of him caught him off guard it was all he could do to not show her how much her words affected him.

"Oh," he managed to say after a few moments of silence. "Well then," he placed a hand atop of her own where it was resting on her rounded stomach. "'William' it is."

A moment of quiet silence, then...

"William?" She asked, entwining their fingers.

"Yeah, sweet?"

"Will you sing for me?" A kick from the baby had her smiling and correcting herself. "For us."

He stayed quiet. Contemplating.

"Please?"

"Sure," he murmured against her hair. "What'll it be?" He felt her shrug against his chest.

"I don't know. Anything?"

"Hmm," he hummed, thinking for a moment then cleared his throat and started singing.

"Christopher Robin and I walked along
Under branches lit up by the moon.
Posing our questions to Owl and Eeyore
As our days disappeared all too soon."

Buffy snuggled closer into his side, sighing as she rested her head more firmly. The sound of his heartbeat and the timbre of his voice resonating inside his chest.

"But I've wandered much further today than I should
And I can't seem to find my way back to the wood.

"So, help me if you can, I've got to get
Back to the house at Pooh corner by one.
You'd be surprised there's so much to be done...

"Count all the bees in the hive,
Chase all the clouds from the sky,
Back to the days of Christopher Robin and Pooh."

William smiled as Buffy yawned, her eyes falling close and her breath beginning to even out. He dropped his voice to a quiet murmur as he kept singing.

"Winnie the Pooh doesn't know what to do
Got a honey jar stuck on his nose.
He came to me asking help and advice
And from here no one knows where he goes.

"So I sent him to ask of the Owl, if he's there,
How to loosen a jar from the nose of a bear.

"Help me if you can, I've got to get
Back to the house at Pooh corner by one.
You'd be surprised there's so much to be done...

"Count all the bees in the hive,
Chase all the clouds from the sky,
Back to the days of Christopher Robin and Pooh."

His voice wobbled as he stifled a yawn and started to fade as he closed his eyes as well.

"It's hard to explain how a few precious things
Seem to follow through out all our lives
After all said and done, I was watching my son
Sleeping there with my bear by his side

"So I tucked him in, I kissed him
And as I was going
I swear that old bear whispered;
'Boy, welcome home.'

"Believe me if you can I’ve finally come
Back to the house at Pooh corner by one
And what do you know there's so much to be done...

"Count all the bees in the hive,
Chase all the clouds from the sky,

"Back to the days of Christopher Robin,
Back to the ways of Christopher Robin,
Back to..."

Spike trailed off as he too drifted into a tranquil sleep.


*****

The song Spike/William sings is called "House at Pooh Corner" and it's by Kenny Loggins. It's my son's favourite "sing me to sleep" song and I couldn't think of a better chapter to share it in than this one.

For those of you who haven't heard it and wish to do so I uploaded it to yousendit, and you can find it here...

http://download.yousendit.com/9929669A368429CC

~

I also made a manip, Buffy manip, inspired by one part of this chapter that you can find Here

He had taken to driving through the suburbs of LA ever since Buffy's doctor visit a fortnight before. He had been imagining what life in a neighbourhood like this - houses filled with families, kids playing around in their yards and in the peaceful streets - would be like. He knew with the arrival of their child, they just couldn't stay in his flat anymore. It was too small, with only one bedroom, and even though they could probably make it work - moving his working space to the living room and use the other half of the room for the baby - he wanted something bigger, something better, for them.

The thing was a bachelor pad anyways, not suitable for families and that's exactly what him and Buffy were slowly, but surely, becoming.

A family.

He had started to feel that they were the moment their lips had touched, for the first time again, while fully sober, all those months ago.

They had agreed to date, in a serious sense, and had been doing so for the past four months. Longer still if you counted those few weeks when she had moved in with him and they had started to get to know each other. Since then, they had shared a hundred kisses, and sleeping spaces. Fears, and friends - hers coming down from Sunnydale to visit them every other weekend - and lately, declarations of love.

Driving by the russet roof, white, two story, English style house, he knew this just was the next logical step.

Slowing down his black Mercedes-Benz, he checked the rear-view mirror and the side ones before making a U-turn back and drove his car into the driveway of the house. He put the car on park and opened up his briefcase to look for a pen. Jotting the number down quickly he placed it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, patting it to make sure the paper was settled, before returning the pen back to his briefcase and, pulling out of the driveway, he made his journey to a coffee shop intent on calling the number to ask for a showing before making his way to work.

He spent the rest of the morning, after the call, in quiet contemplation.






Lilah Morgan was waiting for him in his office by the time he got to work.

"You're late." She said as way of greeting, and he couldn't read if her smile was out of amusement or at finding a reason to yell at him.

A glance at the clock behind him - even though he knew the time - then, "seems like I am."

"Is this a first for William Pratt?" She asked half jokingly, getting up off his office chair and coming to sit at a corner of his desk.

"Hardly, ducks," he snorted. "I'm sure I've been late before." He made his way to his desk avoiding passing by the corner in which she had seated herself at.

Lilah sighed out a laugh, "is there any special reason why?" She inquired, turning so she could look at what he was doing without having to get up or look over her shoulder.

Spike placed his briefcase on his desk opening it up to take out the case file Gunn and he were currently working on, intending to go find the younger man as soon as Lilah was finished... doing whatever it was she was in his office for.

"Had to make a call," he answered. Tersely.

The brunette pushed herself further onto his desk so her legs were dangling, then slowly brought one leg up, brushing it against the other, and crossed it. Exposing her pale, bare thigh.

Spike didn't bat an eye.

"Must have been an important call."

"Guess it was."

Lilah slightly narrowed her eyes hopping off the desk. "Going to tell me to who? I mean... if it was something, hmm," she smiled, "...work related, don't you think we should know about it?" She placed her hands on his desk, leaning on them, the fabric of her blouse stretching and moulding against her upper body, offering him a nice view of her breasts, if he cared for a look.

Spike pursed his lips and let the file he was holding drop to his desk. He looked up the ceiling, jaw twitching and sighing once before meeting her gaze. Blue eyes never shifting from hers.

"It was to a realtor." He stated matter of factly. "We're buying a house."

Lilah straightened, understanding dawning on her, and showing itself on her features. She fixed her light brown suit jacket.

"You really do love her, don't you?" She questioned after a moment of silence.

Spike didn't even have to think about it. Not anymore.

"I do," he stated with perfect clarity.

Lilah scratched the back of her ear with one hand, thinking, before slightly nodding her head in acceptance.

"The senior partners wish to speak to you." She finally said after a long moment of silence.

Spike straightened, suddenly self conscious. "Yeah? Do you know... what about?"

"Yes," she turned to make her way towards the door. "A promotion." She told him over her shoulder as she reached it. Hand on the doorknob she turned to look at him, and he quickly wiped off the goofy grin that had formed on his face at her words.

She looked at him, thoughtful for a moment, before speaking.

"Spike?" She paused and he waited patiently for her to continue. "Was she the reason you--"

"No." He interrupted her question.

"So if she had never walked into your life, you and I...?" She trailed off.

Spike shrugged, apologetic. "You're just not--" He stopped, contemplating. "We still wouldn't have dated or... gotten together, Lilah. I'm not the kind of man that could make or keep you happy, and... you're not the kind of girl I need."

"But she is?" It was a statement more than a question but he answered her anyways.

"She is."

She gave him a sad half smile and walked out of his office, reminding him that he had a meeting with the senior partners at the end of the week as she did.



*****


A/N: I don't know where this chapter came from. I was laying down in bed, trying to fall asleep at three in the morning, when the need to write just happened and you guys know how it goes, the muse gets what she wants and this is what came of it. Hope it made as much sense to you as it did to me at the time I was writing it, lol..

.

The sale of the house had happened pretty quickly. The call he had made to the realtor had ended in him making an offer and by the next day he had gotten the call that the owners had accepted. Now, a couple of days later, he was waiting for the guy, some bloke by the name of Robin Wood, at the driveway of the house to sign the papers that would make the house, his.

A frown crossed his face before a smile replaced it. 'No, not mine. Ours.'

"Must be looking forward to this, then." A male voice interrupted his thoughts and Spike turned towards the voice, extending his arm in greeting.

"Uh, yeah. I am. You must be--"

"Robin Wood. Yeah." The man the voice belonged to said, and took the blonde’s hand, shaking it.

"William Pratt."

"Is your wife joining us?" He asked, noticing the wedding band on William's ring finger.

"Oh, uh, no. No. She doesn't know I'm buying it. Surprise gift and all that."

"Hell of a gift." The brown eyed man laugh, Spike joining in with a chuckle. "So, shall we go inside? Have a quick look before you sign?"

Spike bit his lip as he looked up at the house and nodded, "yeah, yeah. Lets do that."

"Okay well..." Robin started as he opened the front door. "It's a two story, English cottage style home. Four bedrooms, three bathrooms. Living and formal dining room, and as you can see," he said pointing up then down, "cove ceilings and hardwood floors." He smiled as they continued into the kitchen. "The kitchen has all new appliances and is here, on the first floor, along with the living, dining, a bath and one of the bedrooms. The master bed and bath, are up in the second with the rest of the--"

"Your backyard has a swimming pool, and a water fountain." A female voice interrupted that of the realtor as the tall, long-limbed, attractive brunette made her way inside. "Are you positively sure you want this house, darling? 'Cause I think I might just kick you out and take it instead," she laughed.

"Hey, Cordy." Spike greeted, smiling, and brought the younger woman into his arms for a hug. "So, then you think Buffy'll like the house?"

"Oh, yeah." The brunette widened her eyes, "she'll love it." She grinned, then covered her mouth surprised and a bit embarrassed. "I'm sorry, where are my manners, or his," she poked Spike's ribs with her elbow, earning herself an 'ow' and extended her hand. "I'm Cordelia Chase-Angelus..."

"Oh, right, sorry. Uh... she's a good friend," Spike said taking over the introduction as they shook hands. "Cordy this is Robin Wood."

"It's a pleasure," Robin smiled.

"Likewise."

"I asked Cordy here to uh, take a look around with us, since she's the one decorating this." Spike said as way of explanation.

Robin nodded in understanding as Cordy spoke.

"Are you sure Buffy's going to be okay with that? I mean, this is her house, wouldn't she want to... I don't know," she shrugged, "add her own touches?"

"As I'm sure she will, love. You're just taking care of basics."

"Such a charmer you are," she joked then turned to the other man. "Shall we? I want to see the whole house. See what I'm going to be working with."

"Of course," Robin smiled. "Right this way."






"I'm serious Cordy," Spike spoke, holding on tightly to the small piece of plastic in between his fingers as the brunette tried to pull it out of his clasp. "You are not to spend a quid outside of anything that's not related to this house. I am not treating you to a shopping trip. Got that?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it bleach boy. Now, let go."

"Promise?"

Cordy sighed, "if it means you let go and let me do my shopping then, yeah, okay. I promise."

Spike raised an eyebrow.

"Jeez, I swear it okay? I won't use this credit card to buy anything that's not house related."

Spike pursed his lips, as she bit her bottom one.

"Your... house related," she relented. Spike held on to the card for a few more seconds then let it go and gave the brunette a hug before watching her make her way to her car and open the door.

"Oh," she paused before getting in. "Spike?"

He turned to look at her, "yeah?"

"How 'bout dinner?"

Spike bit his bottom lip, thinking, before shrugging and nodded, "yeah, guess you could buy yourself dinner."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "I'm not asking if I can buy dinner, idiot, I'm asking you if you'd like to come over for dinner tomorrow night. You and Buffy."

"Oh," Spike looked down, ears tinting pink, before looking up to meet Cordy's brown eyes. "Yeah. Sounds right nice."

He smiled as she chuckled and got into her car, following it slowly down the drive, hands in the pockets of his jeans, then watching as she drove away. 'No doubt,' he thought, 'heading towards the mall.'

He sighed looking around the neighbourhood filled with single family houses all with neatly manicured lawns. Driveways full of family cars, minivans and SUV's. Children making their way home from school.

Turning around, William looked up to his newly purchased house. The house he hoped to make a home with his wife. He took in the russet colour of the roof, the sunlit paleness of it's white exterior, hiding the comfort of the cottage like feel of the inside. Took in the blue trim around the windows and the arched doorway with it's greyish white screen door. The curved, brick walkway leading you to it and the green grass of the lawn that it parted. The trees that seemed to engulf the whole house in a warm hug, protecting it, and the families that had lived before and would long after, from the harshness and unkindness that was sometimes part of the outside world.

Making his way to the front door to make sure it was locked and clasping the keys - minus the spare set he had lent to Cordelia - in his pocket to make sure they were still there, he then made his way to his car. Unlocking it and opening the door, he paused before getting in, a grin forming on his face as he took in a deep breath, through his nose, as if scenting the air around him.

Getting inside the car, he let it out in a breathy "Ah," and chuckled.

"Suburbia."

William was... ecstatic didn't even begin to cover it.

He had woken up that morning a nervous mess. Excited but worried about the meeting with the senior partners and the promotion Lilah had informed him it was about.

Buffy had tried so hard to calm him down without success that by the time he had to leave she was just as stressed out as him, and as a last attempt to calm them both down, she had given him a goodbye, good luck kiss that had made his toes curl. The dazed look on her face had him smirking, knowing he hadn't been the only one affected. After that, he had left his apartment building, jogging to his car and whistling all the way. He hadn't even stopped at his favourite coffee shop. Already too jittery to think about ingesting any more caffeine.

Now, sitting in front of the senior partners, hands sweating, throat dry, and wishing for some water, some very cold water to tell him he really wasn't dreaming, he was speechless.

The meeting with the senior partners hadn't been for a promotion as Lilah had originally made him think. It was for something else, something... dare he say it? Better.

'Yes. Much better,' he thought. 'Maybe I am dreaming,' he forced himself to stop from pinching his arm, as one third of the senior partners continued talking. Informing him, that they were planning to open up a new firm, and that they wanted him, and Angel, to run it.

They weren't offering him a promotion, no, that they were not. What they were offering him, what they were presenting him with, was a chance to make all his career dreams come true.

They were offering him partnership.

Partner. They wanted to make them partners. Liam and him.

"So what do you say, William?" Mr. Survata, spoke. "Would you be interested?"

"Have you," he cleared his throat. "Have you talked to Liam about this?"

"Yes, we have." Mr. Survata nodded along with the other two.

"And, he said yes?" Okay, so, maybe he wasn't dreaming.

"He did." The older man confirmed. "What about you, Will, my boy? What do you say?"

All Spike could do was nod, quiet for a moment before speaking, "Yes, yes I... I'm very interested. I don't know what to say... Thank you," he smiled, "thank you."

William stood as the senior partners did, and stretched out his hand, grasping each of theirs in a grateful handshake.

He nodded his head in thanks once again before walking out of the conference room to go look for Angel.






"Spike." Angel greeted Spike as the blond walked into his office. "Guess you know then." He smiled, noticing the grin on Spike's face.

Spike nodded as he made his way towards Angel, the older man standing up from his chair and meeting him halfway, embracing the bleached blond as he reached him, patting his back with one hand as the other moved to ruffle his hair.

"Liam." Spike whispered, holding on to the other man tightly, "I... can you believe this?"

Angel smiled, chuckling softly at Spike's awed voice, shaky with emotion, as he tried to gulp down his own.

"We knew it was going to happen." The brown eyed man spoke, and they separated enough, Spike's hands still resting on Angel's forearms, to look at each other. "You deserve it, Spike. William. You deserve this."

"I feel like such a poof," Spike joked and sniffed, "all teary and 'bout to cry," he laughed and Angel pulled him in for a hug again, hand resting on the back of the younger man's head.

"Angel, dear?" A familiar voice interrupted their little male bonding moment, "is there something you want to tell me?"

Both of them looked over at the owner of the voice, startled, then grinned at Cordelia's hand on hip, eyebrow raised, trying to hide a smirk, look.

"What can I say," Angel joked as they let go, "he's just... so damn cute." He patted Spike's shoulder one last time before walking over to his wife and pulling her in for a hug, kissing the pout off her full lips.

"He knows then?" Cordy asked, smiling up at her husband.

Angel nodded, "he knows."

Cordelia squealed, delighted, and made her way to give the bleach blond her own congratulatory hug.

"I'm so proud," she told him kissing his cheek. "This gives us another reason to celebrate." She said letting go of him and turning to take her husband's hands. "Now, I know I said I was going to cook dinner, but I think we should all go out instead, what do you say?" She grinned.

"Well," Spike started, "if it means I don't have to put up with your cooking..." He joked then laughed as the brunette woman slapped his arm.

"I'm a good cook," she argued. "I am," she insisted at their disbelieving looks.

"Of course you are, sweetheart," Angel smiled and brought her back into his arms, kissing her forehead. "Spike here just doesn't know good food when he tastes it."

Spike rolled his eyes and made his way towards the door, "I'm gonna leave you two love birds and go call my wife. Give her the news and tell her we're going out tonight instead." He reached the door and walked out, pulling it close behind him. He paused just before it closed completely and peaked his head back in.

"Oh, and Liam?" He waited for them to turn around. "Don't forget to air it out after the hot, sweaty, monkey sex." He chuckled at their looks and closed the door, running into Harmony, Angel's secretary, as he did. One look at her face, told him she had overheard, and he left her standing there, walking away with a smile all the way back to his office.

Everything was looking absolutely perfect. What he most wanted had just been offered to him, he had just bought a house, he loved his wife and she loved him, and they were going to have a child. There was only one thing missing, to make his life perfect and complete, but he was planning on fixing that as soon as possible. He just had to find the right way to go about it first.

(for those of you who usually skip it, read the A/N lol :P)




Dinner with the Angelus' had been a casual affair, as most dinners with them were.

They had gone to a mini-bar type of restaurant serving mostly finger food and specialty drinks.

The atmosphere had been friendly with a touch of romance, the girls spending their time talking clothes and shoes, and with Cordelia's sneaky ways, house furnishings, and their husbands, business dealings. To which Cordy and Buffy had rolled their eyes, exclaimed "men," and kept talking.

The mood had changed to amorous once a bluesy-jazzy singer and her band had taken the stage, causing both Angel and Spike to extend their hands, asking for a dance.

Each married couple had spent the rest of the evening flirting and sneaking kisses on the dance floor, as only couples in love do, and whispering compliments, once having returned to their dinner table.

All in all the night had been perfect.

Now Buffy waited on the sidewalk, in front of their apartment building, as William paid for their cab.

He smiled, standing straight, and reached for her hand. She took his without hesitation, entwining their fingers as soon as she did.

"Did you have fun tonight, blossom?" Spike asked as they made their way inside and to the lifts, nodding and smiling their greeting to the doorman and night watchman as they passed.

"I did, William," she smiled and leaned up to leave a chaste kiss upon his lips. "It was..." she hummed, "perfect."

He wrapped his arms around her, as best he could with her swollen belly taking up space between them.

"Perfect, eh?" He led them inside the lift and pressed the numbered button for their floor. She nuzzled against his chest, contented and full.

"Yes," she purred, inhaling his aroma.

"I'm glad," he buried his hand in her hair, pulling softly at the loose strands to tilt her head up, and covered her lips with his.

Since the day they had shared their first kiss, as an actual couple, their reunion kiss so to speak, they had silently agreed to take things slow.

Neither of them ready to take that next step, and had, because of it, only shared kisses and soft caresses, that had, with proper time, become more.

Now, as Buffy's soft, small fingers unbuttoned the top of his shirt, slipping inside to caress his chest, and to entangle her fingertips in the small hairs there, he wondered, for a fleeting moment before deciding, if it was time to take another step. If it was time to move it a step closer to what they were both truly wanting, and to add to the enjoyment of the journey getting there.

His other hand, that had till then been tracing small circles on her back, moved to the swell of her ass, grabbing a cheek and bringing her closer, promising more, just as the elevator doors opened, announcing that they were there.

He parted from her lips, smirking at the dazed expression in her eyes, and took her hand, leading them to their door.

Buffy's fingers found the belt loop of his pants and slipped in as he unlocked the door. Brushing past him as the door opened, she giggled, dragging him in by said belt loop and he couldn't help but to chuckle along with her.

She left him, along with her shoes, at the door as he locked it, and made a beeline for their room.

He could hear her moving around the bathroom - washing off her make up, brushing her teeth, getting ready for bed - as he picked up her shoes and turned on the lamp in the living room at the lowest setting. He made his way to the closet - smiling as he passed the closed bathroom door, hearing her humming to herself inside - to place her shoes in their proper place and to grab a change of clothes.

Making his way back to the bathroom, he paused halfway there, grabbing Buffy by the waist, as she passed him, and pulling her against him. Her back to his front. He moved her hair, gathered up in a ponytail, aside to kiss and nibble at her slender neck.

Buffy tilted her head to give him better access as he ran his hand up her side, brushing against the side of her breast a few times before engulfing the soft mound with his long-fingered hand.

Buffy moaned in response and he let his fingers, thumb and index, find her nipple, now erect under soft, white cotton from his ministrations, and rolled it around.

Letting the pyjama bottoms, he had gotten to change into, drop to the floor, he walked them to the bed in darkness, the only light in the room that of the moon and the dim glow from the living room lamp that managed to shine in from the outer rooms.

Feeling Buffy's knees meeting the soft mattress of their bed, he spun them around, sitting on the edge and bringing her to rest on his lap.

"You're beautiful," he informed her, voice low but not a whisper. He smiled as she blushed and brushed his lips against her cheek. Her ear, behind said ear. Her neck.

"Are you happy, Buffy?" He questioned, "with me?"

Buffy raised her eyes and met his gaze. Curious. Searching.

Her hands lifted from his arms to rest upon his face, one on each cheek, holding him there as her lips found his, puckering against his own once, twice, before meeting his eyes again, her hands falling to his shoulders.

"I am." William could hear the truth in her voice. "I don't think there's ever been a time... I've been happier," she smiled, "unless... you count the time you walked out of that night club to follow me, because it led us to this, here."

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her closer, burying his face in her hair.

"I just wish..." she paused and he parted to look at her, hearing the tears in her voice.

"Buffy?" He asked concerned, "what is it, sweetheart? What do you wish? Are you crying?"

She breathed out a laugh, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Nothing," she finally answered him, "nothing. All that I could ever wish for is here, in your arms." She forced a smile on her face. "I'm just being silly," she said as an excuse for her tears, "we'll blame the hormones," she joked.

Spike rewarded her joke with a smile. "Are you sure, sweet?" He inquired.

"Yeah," she nodded, "I'm fine." Silence then, "there is one thing you can do, though," she smiled and bit her bottom lip.

"Yeah? What's that?"

Buffy lowered her eyes, heart filled with guilt, and sighed.

'You should tell him,' she though. 'You should. He deserves to know.'

She raised her eyes to meet his again. Stared into his. Willing him to see how much love she held for him, how happy he made her. How blissful her life with him was. She took a deep breath and licked her lips.

"Kiss me, William."

It was more of a request than a command, but he obeyed her anyways, and covered her mouth with his.




He gave his all in kisses. Gave his all and took her all at the same time.

Buffy could feel his passion in his kisses. His love, kindness and compassion. She could also feel his determination and rage.

William gave his all in kisses, and she took it.

She knew she should tell him the truth about her child. She knew he deserved to know. But, she also knew that, if she ever did tell him, if he ever did find out the truth, he would hate her.

And as he laid her down on the bed, stripping himself of everything but his boxers and undershirt, and settled next to her, pulling her into his arms, she also knew she was weak.

Much, much too weak, to ever let him go.

"Where are we going?" Buffy asked him from her place on the passenger side seat of his car.

William glanced at her and smiled, "you'll see." At Buffy's questioning raised eyebrow he continued, "it's a surprise."

Cordy had called him early in the week after their dinner with the other couple letting him know that the house was ready.

To say he had been surprised was an understatement. He had been expecting her to take at least three weeks, a month tops, to get the house move-in-ready for him and Buffy. She had done it in a bit over a week.

And though surprised was his first reaction, he was also incredibly grateful. He had noticed a change in Buffy after the dinner with the Angelus', and he couldn't figure out exactly why. She seemed a lot calmer, a lot more quiet and thoughtful, and a lot more emotional - having found her crying for no apparent reason on more than one occasion. Of course, she always blamed it on the pregnancy hormones and if it hadn't been for her reassurances that she was happy with him, and telling him constantly that she did loved him and how much, he'd be worried that it was him - be it through his actions or words - the one making her feel that way.

And now as they drove through the streets of L.A. in journey to their new, fully furnished, house, he was hoping the surprise would cheer her up, and as she asked the next question, he knew it was.

"A good kind of surprise?"

"Yeah," he paused, smiling. "At least I like to think so... Hopefully?" He chuckled, turning the corner into the street that would lead them to their destination.

"You're nervous." Buffy stated, watching amusedly as William's fingertips tapped against the steering wheel to some song playing in his head.

Spike smiled and blushed. "A bit."

"Why?" Buffy breathed out in a laugh.

"Because, love, I don't know if you'll like it."

"Well, what is it?"

"I can't tell you that," he laughed.

"Why not? Oh!" She exclaimed, "because then it wouldn't be a surprise."

"Exactly, blossom." Spike smiled and chanced a look at her, "and we wouldn't want that now, would we?"

"Guess not," Buffy pouted, crossing her arms, making Spike laugh at her petulant look, her own lips twitching into a smile.






Buffy gave William a questioning look, her brow furrowing in confusion, as he pulled into the driveway of a white, two-story house. She waited patiently as William parked and turned off the car, getting out to make his way to her side to help her out, before speaking.

"What is this?"

Spike bit his bottom lip, thoughtful, before responding. "It's your surprise, love."

Buffy looked back at the house. "I don't get it," she stated and turned back to her husband for an explanation.

"Well then," he said reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a small, white box, "maybe this will help." He handed it to her, chuckling as she tentatively took it from his hand. "It's not gonna bite, pet."

Buffy laughed at her own silliness, before slowly opening the box, frowning at the thing inside.

"A key?" She asked, still very much confused.

"Yeah, um... c'mon." Spike cleared his throat and grabbed her hand leading them to the front door. Taking her key from the box, he inserted it in the lock and turned it, the door opening with a soft creak.

"William?" She questioned, and placed her hand on his arm. "What's going on? Why are you nervous?"

Spike closed his eyes before turning to her, taking her in. He looked down, biting his lip, before looking back at her from behind lowered lashes.

"Why don't we get inside first, sweetheart. I'll explain everything then."

She held his eyes for a few moments more before nodding her acquiescence. Opening the door fully, William stopped her from entering, bending at the waist to lift her into his strong arms instead, her own going around his neck. He smiled at her, bending his head to cover her mouth with his own, crossing the threshold as he did and kicking the door close behind him. Their lips separated as he made his way to the living room, placing her carefully back on her feet in the middle of said room.

Buffy looked around, taking in her surroundings, and wondered if the house belonged to the Angelus'.

It was decorated in the same style she had just been discussing with Cordy the week before when they had joined the other couple for dinner. She was just about to ask William when a picture caught her eye.

It was sitting on the fireplace mantel in a thick, silver frame. She walked over to it entranced and picked it up. It was of her and her friends, Xander, Willow, Tara and Faith, before Riley, not too long after she had come to live with the Maclay's.

She picked it up just as William stepped up behind her, placing his hands around her waist and atop her swollen belly.

"William?" She questioned as she felt his chin come to rest on her shoulder. "How did you..?"

"Talked to Xander, love. Asked him to send me a picture."

Buffy frowned in confussion, "why?"

William took a deep breath, "it's ours, love." He stated. "This house is ours. And this," he moved his hand, covering one of her own holding the framed picture, "...you've been distant, Buffy. Not," he added quickly feeling her tense, "in the way you may think. There's a part of you, that I haven't been able to reach, and I understand, really, I do. We haven't known each other long, just a few months, and even when... we're a couple, and even though we're in love, because I am, Buffy. I'm in love with you. You seem to... and forgive me, love, for not having the right words but, I'm a bit nervous here," he chuckled and she smiled. "You seem to still think of everything as either yours or mine, and... I don't want it to be like that anymore. Buffy, you are my wife, and I love you, and because of that I want you to..." he paused contemplating. "Everything I am, what I feel, my words, my mind, my heart, my body, my soul... All that I am, and all that I have, is yours. Home is where the heart is, yeah? Well, you're my home, Buffy. And I guess I'm asking, well hoping is more like it, that this place, and I, can be home to you too."

Buffy smiled, blinking to keep her tears from tumbling. Placing the frame back on the mantel, she turned in William's arms, hugging him and resting her forehead on his chest. She took a deep breath before looking up and into his blue eyes.

"William, I--" she gently shook her head, at a lost of words to convey what she was feeling. "You are, you're my home," she spoke, voice soft and filled with emotion. "Thank you." She said before wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing him down for a breathtaking kiss.

The world seemed to go quiet and melt away.

The noisy sounds of kids playing outside becoming so blurred, so foggy, that it seemed instead that they were on some far away, deserted island where the small spots of sunlight, from the setting sun, shining through the window, were stars instead. Stars burning bright and flashing a pale electric blue, on a sky so clear that you could almost see the heavens. A paradise of gods in clouds made of fluffy cotton pillows and blankets, and a soft mattress that was their new bed.

They were already mad with lust, as they had made their way up the stairs, into their new room and slid into their bed. Their mouths fused together, noses working overtime to keep lips from separating. Flushed with passion so hot, his breath on her skin burned her, his tongue tattooing her skin with liquid fire, marking her as his.

Spike's fingertips lightly brushed her skin, awakening a part of her that had till now, even when he forced it to expose itself, been asleep. Hidden below the surface of naivety and inexperience. True innocence at its extreme. Even as her belly was filled with life. A life she wished he would have had a part of in creating.

Buffy moaned and her fingernails faintly scraped against his back, making the strong muscles there quiver, as if dancing for the enthralled audience that were her hands.

Her lips parted in a silent gasp as his hand made its way from the soft skin of the bottom swell of her breasts, around her swollen belly and down to the engorged lips of her labia. His fingers parting the velvety lips to allow his thumb access to her clit.

"Buffy... my Buffy. My sweet, sweet girl." William groaned, his voice sounding strangled in their haze of love filled lust. "So warm, you are. Like heated honey. Burn me... you're going to burn me, baby..."

He pulled up on his knees then, breaking contact with her for the first time since they started kissing. Keeping himself and his weight from resting on her belly and the babe that lay sleeping there just beneath the surface of her flexible skin, stretching to accommodate life, he moved his hands to the fly of his jeans as she finished stripping. She dropped her bra off to the side of the bed and waited as he pulled his jeans down to his knees. Leaning on his hand, as he pulled them the rest of the way off, she waited till he was exposed to her, to hand him her feet, her small fingers pinching the dusty rose coloured tip of her breasts as he pulled her shoes off her.

She had never seemed so beautiful to him as she did just then, and he had to stop and catch his breath at the wonder that was his wife. His eyes were heavy, lids half closed in desire but he could still make out every detail.

Every shadow of her lashes on her face. Every wrinkle of her lips. Every fleck of gold or black or pink in her green eyes. Could count every beat of her heart by the pulsating vein visible on her neck. Could make out every freckle on her nipples, and could almost taste, by her aroma alone, the dew of arousal that covered her sex.

He was tempted to make her wait a bit more, torture her longer, but the need for her, to feel himself inside of her, feel her liquid heat surrounding him, was too much and instead of settling himself between her thighs to taste her, to savour the rich essence of her with his tongue, he moved till he was laying next to her. Turning her as he did to face him.

William lifted himself, allowing his wife's leg to slip into the soft crevice of his waist, the patch of skin in between his broad chest and slender hip. Supporting himself on her leg before bringing her other one to rest atop him, in the same position, allowing his hips to nestle in between her legs, and his belly to cradle her swollen one.

Snaking a hand in between them, he encircled his cock, grasping it tightly, and softly, tentatively, caressed the pink folds of his love's warm sex with the head of his penis, coating his manhood with her arousal.

Lingering at her entrance, he licked his lips and dipped his head to catch her own in a soft, chaste kiss, seeking permission to invade her body with his.

"Please, please... William," she murmured, breaking the kiss, knowing that he needed to hear it as much as she needed to say it. "Please... come inside... I need you... need to feel you." Her body was alight with passion and her thoughts hazy with lust.

Moaning at the feeling her words incited in him, Spike removed his hand from his cock and pushed his way, gently, inside her welcoming heat.

They had made love before - with each and every kiss, every caress, every soft spoken word - they had made love, but never had it been like this. The last time he had been in her body they had been too drunk to remember anything and as he lay there, next to her, on their sides - their bodies pressed together from hips to chest, heads resting on the same pillow, eyes locked - he promised himself that this, their true first time, he would make it memorable. Would engrave it in her mind, in her body, and in her heart as he etched it into himself as well.

Though, he had a feeling, as he looked into her love filled eyes and heard the soft declarations of love spilling from their lips that this night would already be an unforgettable one.

"Buffy," he whispered. Voice rough. Husky. He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. "My beautiful wife." He sighed then groaned, kissing the sweat off her brow.

Trailing one hand down her arm, his fingers gripped at her waist, marking her with his fire, passion and nails, bringing her closer as his other hand tangled its fingers in her silky strands, her own hands resting one on his neck, the other on his arm.

Their pace was slow, Spike sheathing himself inside of her fully, her inner muscles squeezing him delightfully, before slowly tumbling out of her, only to guide himself inside of her again.

Buffy moaned, burying her face in the shelter of his neck, kissing the soft, hot skin presented to her there. Licking, sucking, taking in the beads of sweat that had formed, her taste buds worshiping their salty flavour. She felt the hand resting on her hip make its way to her lower back, the arm wielding it hugging her, strongly, to the body it belonged to, and her own tightened in response.

Whispering words of love into the rich air their mingled breaths created, and keeping their pace deep and slow, they held tightly to each other as they reached mutual climax and came undone in arms, they both knew, would keep them safe for a lifetime.

Spike nervously stood at the counter as he opened his wallet and took out one of his credit cards, handing it over to the cashier, a tall willowy girl with a nametag on her crisp black blouse, proclaiming to the world her name was 'Dawn.'

"How long have you two been dating?" The brown haired girl asked as she swiped the card.

"Oh, um..." he chuckled nervously, "five months?" He questioned more than answered.

Dawn raised an eyebrow, "don't you think it's a bit soon for you to be asking--" the words cut off as she clamped her mouth shut.

Spike smiled as he figured they must be paying her out of commission and was afraid he might change his mind, and by doing so, taking away a good part of her salary.

"No," he said. "We're already married," he opened his wallet again and took out a slightly wrinkled Polaroid and passed it to the girl. She took it and smiled at the happy couple and the Las Vegas city background.

"Ah," she said and passed it back along with a receipt for him to sign. "So you're..." she trailed off, contemplating. "What?" She asked partly confused.

William paused, the pen stopping with his thoughts.

"I'm..." he started after a while, "hoping," he finished signing and handed the slip of paper back to the girl. "Just hoping."

Taking the small bag from Dawn and nodding his thanks at her 'congratulations,' he walked out of the jewellery store, a bounce to his step and a smile beaming on his face.






"You look happy, B." Faith stated as she took a drink from her plastic cup. "Bleach boy treating you well?"

The day after they had officially moved into their new house, William had insisted they have a house warming party, calling both her friends and his, to tell them the news and invite them. Buffy had been especially thrilled since it had been almost a month since they had last seen her friends.

It had been then that she learned Cordy had helped her husband with the decorating of their new house, and figured that's why the older woman had kept calling her, asking her about furniture and the placing of said furniture in rooms. She was incredibly grateful for the help, though. Feeling touched that her husband's friend considered her enough of a friend to care about what she may or may not like in her house.

"I am," she answered Faith. "He is," she smiled.

"But...?"

"But..." she shook her head, "nothing, Faith." She responded and her eyes met those of her husband on the other side of the yard, both smiling as blue met green. "He's wonderful."

The brunette noticed the love filled look the blonde's were giving each other and had to smile herself.

"You got it bad, B," she teased, laughing as her friend blushed and looked down. "But it's a good thing, right?"

Buffy nodded, "it really is."

Faith had been doubtful about Buffy and William's relationship when the small blonde had called her, all those months before, and told her about her new life in L.A.

Not one of them had known that Buffy's date, with a man she had just met, had resulted in a drunken Vegas wedding and in her becoming pregnant. They hadn't exactly been that surprised either. They all knew she had still been hurt from Riley's betrayal and that she saw their trip to Vegas as a way to be free, to be someone different, if just for a night. And she proved it so.

Now, as she noticed William heading towards them, arms at the ready to wrap around her best friend, she knew she could no longer be doubtful. It was clear to everyone that came in contact with the couple how very much in love they were, and how happy they made one another.

Faith smiled and excused herself as Spike reached them, taking Buffy into his arms and stealing a kiss from her smiling lips, and made her way over to where Xander was grilling and drinking a beer. Seeing the two blonde's together, always made her yearn for some loving of her own.





"You're in a good mood," Buffy said as William walked into their bedroom later that night, singing some old Sinatra song.

"Any reason why I shouldn't be, love?" He asked as he made his way to her, taking her into his arms and swaying her to the rhythm in his head.

They had gone up to their room, after everyone had said their goodbyes, or settled in, the ones that were staying, to rest and get ready for bed.

She swayed with him, the faint moonlight shimmering in the silk of her pale green night gown as if it were soft rolling waves.

"Not any that I can think of," she giggled as he carefully turned and dipped her, "I just figured you were tired."

"I am a bit," he smiled kissing her laughing mouth. He lingered there, tasting the sweetness of her strawberry lip gloss, his mouth teasing hers, fervently yet undemanding, until his tongue brushed against her lips once, slowly. Gently.

He separated from her lips, sighing a contented smile, their breathing a little fast, and leaned his forehead against her own, looking into her eyes as he did.

She returned his stare, his soul, his emotions, his lust, plain for her to see.

She smirked saucily at the latter and dipped her hands to gather the hem of his undershirt with her fingers slipping her hands under the thin, white cotton, to trace the muscles of his back.

William smirked, closing his eyes, as he felt her nails graze the line of his spine, making his skin break out in goose-bumps. He dipped his head, his nose nuzzling her neck for a moment before leaving wet trails from her collarbone to her jaw, and from there to her ear, with open mouthed kisses.

He felt her shiver in his embrace and he slowly turned them around, walking backwards, leading them step by slow step to the edge of their bed.

He sat, unhurriedly, bringing her into his lap, her legs straddling his thighs sensually, letting them bear her full weight, as slight as it was, even with the life growing inside her, while her hands framed his face. The fingers of one sliding into the soft curls of bleached hair at the crown of his head.

"I love you." She whispered, imprisoning his mouth with her own, giving him naught the chance to respond, as they fell into the softness of the bed, and let the warmth of it, as well as the night, surround them.

They had made love again, the night of the house warming party, after everyone had gone home or settled into their rooms for the night. They had made love again, and again after that. Under the light of the moon shining through the window, their lips and fingers whispering words and caresses, getting lost in sensations amplified by the sheer magnitude of the feelings growing deeper in them with each passing day, hour, minute. Second. The night had been almost magical. The sweat of their bodies making them glisten in an almost ethereal light until tears burned her eyes and blurred her vision so much, she had to shut them tightly to keep the tears from falling as he brought her to orgasm, over and over again, with his fluttering fingers and unyielding cock. Buffy smiled and eyed her reflection in the mirror, sighing embarrassedly at the pink that tinted her cheeks with just the memory alone. She ran a brush through her hair again, all soft strokes that helped to straightened it out a bit while leaving soft waves at the ends, giving a look of volume and elegance to it even in its simplicity. Running her fingers through the small tendrils framing her face, she nodded at her reflection in approval and stood up to inspect the rest of her outfit. William had asked her to dinner that night, on a date if you will. His reasoning behind it that of their lack of celebration, one that was just the two of them alone, sans friends or co-workers. He had told her that they were making a lot of changes and starting a whole new life, separate yet entwined with the last, and like everything else that was new, he wanted them to also have a fresh start. Buffy wondered what that felt like. Being that confident in everything. Since the day she had met William, all those months ago in a crowded night club, he had seemed, always, well put together. He knew exactly what he wanted and why and what he needed to do to get things, his goals, accomplished. And yet... She bit her lower lip before remembering her coloured lips and reached for her lipstick to reapply it again. And yet, William still held enough of a boyish innocence and charm to not let his work or goals rule him. He was perfectly balanced in every way, and she wondered if she would ever be the same. She sighed, capping the lipstick again and dropping it into the clutch she would take with her and moved her hands to her rounded belly. At six months - No. That wasn't right. That's what William believed. - At seven months pregnant, her protruding belly, was very much noticeable under the thin layers of the flowy white fabric of her dress. She had taken to wearing goddess-like cut dresses, halter or otherwise. They fit her body perfectly, the top pieces melding against her ever growing breasts in an alluring manner while still being decent, and the braided rope like belt or thick ribbon that delimited around, just under the curves of her breasts, highlighted her waist without calling too much attention to her rounded belly. That and William always told her how delightfully edible she looked in them. Buffy took a deep breath and smiling, headed out of their bedroom and made her way to and down the stairs. William had been waiting on her to finish getting ready for almost an hour, and as she made her way down the stairs, she could almost picture him. He'd be restless, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, his fingers playing with the cufflinks on either cuff of his shirt, eyes unfocused. Buffy let out an amused giggle as she finished stepping down the stairs and found William waiting for her just as she had imagined, he turned around a look of surprise on his face before turning into a grin at the sight of her smile and twinkling eyes. "Love." He greeted her, stretching his arms, a silent plea for her to take them with her own. His eyes travelled lustily down her body and up again as he took every detail of her, from the pale pink polish of her toe nails to the silky softness of her hair, and the blush that blossomed as he made eye contact. "You look," his head tilted, his eyebrow raising, "delightfully edible." He finished and pulled her into his arms as she smiled shyly before meeting his lips in a chaste kiss. "Are you ready, kitten?" He inquired. "Sure am," she nodded, clasping her arm around his offered elbow. They were almost out the door, when he abruptly stopped, excusing himself for just a moment as he made his way to the living room, taking out something from the pocket of his coat and swiftly moving it to the inside pocket of his jacket. He smiled, shaking his head. "Wallet," he explained. She nodded in understanding and stood by him as he locked up their house, then escorted her to the passenger side of his car and made sure she was comfortably and safely in. He shut the passenger side door of his car and straightened next to it. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, letting it go as his fingers felt the soft velvet of the small black jewellery box. With slow, sure steps, belying the rapid beat of his heart and shaky nerves, he made his way to the drivers side of his car, taking another deep breath before opening the door and getting in. He let the breath out in a long sigh as he inserted the key in the ignition, turning it and starting the car. William smiled at his wife, as he met her eyes in a quick glance, as he turned in his seat to check that the coast was clear before making his way, in reverse, down the driveway. He pulled out into the street, shifting gears, and made their way into town and to the small restaurant he had reserved a table for them at. If everything turned out the way he wanted, the way he planned, tonight would be the night. The night he asked her to marry him again. This time for real. Sober and all.

The restaurant Spike had chosen wasn't too far away from their home. It was small and offered the sort of privacy he was looking for on this night and the short drive there was made in near silence. The only sound being that of William's favourite album playing low on the car stereo.

Buffy smiled sweetly at William as he reached for her hand, their fingers entwining atop the shift stick in between the seats so that he could still shift gears without letting her hand go.

To say William was nervous about tonight would be the understatement to end all understatements. He could feel a light sweat forming over his shaky hands, and he wondered if Buffy noticed. If she did, she didn't say anything and for that he was grateful. It wouldn't be fun to try to explain to his wife why exactly he was nervous without giving the punch line away.

Parking the car, Spike made his way to Buffy's side to help her out, pocketing the keys as he went.

"Love," he offered his hand and a smile as she carefully stepped out of the car.

"Thank you, sir." She playfully beamed at him, entwining her fingers with his as they walked the short distance to the entrance of the restaurant. He opened the door for her, his smile never falling, and ushered her in.








Watching as William took a fifth sip of his second glass of wine in the last five minutes and - Buffy eyed the clock elegantly hanging on the far back wall of the restaurant - twenty seven seconds, she knew something was seriously up. William was worried and nervous about something, exactly what it was, she didn't know, but it was starting to make her nervous as well.

Her husband wasn't one for keeping things to himself, always excited to share his news, good or bad, with whoever would stop and listen to him. It kept him from fidgeting too much, he had explained, but as she watched him play around with the food on his plate before taking a sixth, and then a few seconds later, a seventh sip, she was hoping he'd let it out soon or otherwise his nervous manners would surely send her into early labour.

Then again, there was nothing that stated she couldn't ask him herself. But as he met her eyes and smiled, his face flushing a deep crimson before he looked down at his plate and reached for his wine glass yet again, she knew that no matter how nervous he was making her, he was too cute and charming like this for her to be pushing him about it.








Spike was making a git of himself, and he knew it. Yet no matter how many times he told himself he wouldn't reach for his wine glass, it would take no more than a few seconds for the glass to be in his hand and the chilled red liquid to be sliding down his throat again.

Liquid courage. Wasn't that what it was called? Liquid or drunken? Because if he went through another glass as quickly as he had the last two, he feared it would be the latter.

'Conversation, then?' He thought, and glanced up to meet her eyes, which resulted in him blushing and reaching for his wine glass again, but then she giggled and he looked up to see her eyes lit up with humour and he felt silly for being nervous.

Spike smiled, licking his lips before bringing the bottom one in between his teeth, biting gently on it.

Buffy reached over the table placing the palm of her hand against his cheek smiling softly as he placed his hand atop hers.

"What is it?" She asked him and he closed his eyes, bringing her hand to his nose, breathing in the scent of her skin before leaving a kiss at the centre of her palm. He took her hand, his fingertips entwining with hers, and lowered it to the table before opening his eyes to stare straight at hers.

"I love you. You know that, blossom?" He smiled, voice low and slightly quavering.

"Of course I do." Buffy answered, concern slightly colouring her own voice. He was starting to scare her. William both nervous and reassuring was not always a good thing. "As you know I do, right?"

William stared at her eyes for a few moments, searching for the truth of her words and nodding as he found it. He let go of a breath he felt he had been holding all night and leaned back in his chair, his stare falling to the floor, eyes looking everywhere but at her as he tried to recall the words he had so dutifully practiced to perfection in front of the bathroom mirrors, both at home and at the restaurant before their dinner was to arrive.

Giving up, he smiled a self deprecating smile and looked up at their still entwined hands - hers small and delicate in contrast against his bigger one - for a few seconds before finally meeting her gaze again.

"I had this whole thing planned," he chuckled, slightly shaking his head. "I knew exactly what I wanted to say, and how I wanted to say it. I even practiced the pauses for dramatic effect," Spike laughed and looked away from Buffy's eyes for a moment before returning his gaze back to hers, "but now that we're here, and I'm... I can't remember a bloody thing, and I just... all I know, sweet, is that I love you. I think I always have, ever since that first night when you yelled at me and called me a jerk," he laughed and bit his bottom lip.

Reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket with his free hand he took out the small velvet jewellery box bringing it under the table and in between his knees to open it gently. His thumb checking, making sure that the ring was still there.

"I think I love you more everyday and..." he paused searching for words before giving up with a softly exclaimed "Sod it."

Bringing the opened box from under the table and placing it in front of his wife, his eyes having never left hers, he asked the question he'd been nervous about asking all night:

"Marry me?"

Buffy's brow furrowed in confusion. William's words were clear yet the meaning of them didn't seem to register in her mind. That is, until she looked down.

'Marriage? Is that what he's saying?' She thought. 'What does this mean?... Did you really lie to him?'

Her eyes snapped from the diamond engagement ring back up to his face. A look of disbelief on her face.

"William." She murmured, her eyes starting to fill with tears even as he smiled reassuringly.

'That's all he is, isn't he, Buffy? All smiles and blue eyes. A good man and you...'

"I can't," Buffy whispered standing up, "I can't."








William blinked, confused as to what had happened. One minute he was smiling at Buffy asking her to be his wife... again, the next he was watching her run out the restaurant - at an incredible speed, he had to notice, for a pregnant woman - a litany of 'I can't's' falling from her lips.

After a few moments Spike shook his head, reacting and clearing his head up a bit. Standing up, he took a few bills from his wallet, dropping them on the table before quickly making his way out of the restaurant after his wife. Ignoring the looks of sympathy the other patrons in the restaurant were giving him.

"Buffy?" He called out as soon as he stepped outside. He frowned slightly at the weather noticing how cool and damp the night had become in just the time they had their dinner. "Buffy?!" He called a bit louder. Looking around when she didn't answer.

William's brow furrowed, heart pounding, starting to worry. He turned to walk towards the car hoping she had gone there but a soft whimper stopped him before he could take a step. He turned again, in the other direction and started walking toward the small alley entrance at the side of the restaurant, finding his wife there.








Buffy turned to look at William, leaning against the wall, her hand at her stomach, as he stepped into the alley, not even bothering to wipe at the tears falling from her eyes.

"Buffy, what's wrong?" He asked taking a step towards her, stopping when she took a few steps back. Away from him, he noticed.

'Yeah, Buffy,' she thought sarcastically, 'tell him what's wrong. Tell him how you've lied to him all this time, making him believe something that wasn't true just so you wouldn't have to be alone again.'

Shaking her head, Buffy took a few more steps away from him.

"I can't, William." She whispered as more tears fell from her eyes, breaking his heart.

"Can't what, Buffy?" He asked, more confused than before. "Can't... marry me?" He tried. "We already are, sweetheart." He said trying to placate her.

Spike took a chance and made his way closer to her, stopping once more when she held her hand out to stop his progress.

"Buffy? Look at me, blossom," he said wanting to make some form of connection with her. Get her to start communicating her needs to him. "Look at me," he demanded when she refused, frustrated about not being able to reach her. The pain in her eyes, when she met his own, almost knocked him off his feet.

"What's going on?" He asked her, knowing there was something she was keeping from him. He could tell from the look in her eyes. Could tell that it was hurting her, immensely, but he didn't know what it was. "What is it?"

"I can't." She echoed making him feel lost, confused, as to what exactly she couldn't do.

"Buffy?" He said, voice shaking, tears starting to form in his own eyes. Fear slowly overtaking him.

"I'm sorry," she cried, "Oh William, I'm so sorry. It's not... yours." She sighed, "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Not mine?" He asked, confused, eyes closing and shaking his head. "What's not...?" He looked back at her and froze.

Spike stood there watching as her tears paused, all of them gathering in her eyes, unable to fall as she stared into his blue eyes.

And suddenly, he understood.

"The baby." He whispered, feeling his heart shatter as she looked away, hiding the guilt in her eyes. Being able to finally see the guilt in her eyes.

Time seemed to stop for almost an eternity before he could form thoughts. Form words.

"How could you?" Spike asked. He could hear the anger in his voice even though numbness washed over him. "How could you?" He snarled, backing away as she walked towards him. Watching with dispassion as she tripped and fell to the dirty ground.

"I'm sorry," Buffy whimpered, tears falling freely now. "William, please..."

"You lied to me!" Spike interrupted, ignoring the looks they were getting from everyone passing by. Too consumed by hurt to care that they were making a scene. "I can't even look at you right now," he said turning away from her, shaking his head before taking a step and walking away.

"William!" Buffy called, trying once more to reach him, yet not being able to blame him for walking away from her. Leaving her in the dirty back alley like the piece of trash she was.








Staring down at his feet, Spike continued to walk, passing by his car and avoiding every person walking past him, already missing the slight buzz he had gotten at dinner due to the wine and wishing for nothing more than a good bottle of whiskey. Something strong to slide down his throat and burn away the numbness and hurt and anger he figured he would soon feel due to her deceit.








'How could you?' Buffy asked herself, finally gathering enough strength to pick herself up after long moments. Wiping at her eyes, Buffy walked out of the alley and down the street in the opposite direction that her husband had gone, ignoring the people asking if she was okay.

'I have to get home,' She thought before realizing she didn’t have a home to go to. 'You fucked that up, didn't you Buffy? Fucked it up when you hurt your home. When you hurt William.'

Staring down at his feet, Spike continued to walk, passing by his car and avoiding every person walking past him, already missing the slight buzz he had gotten at dinner due to the wine and wishing for nothing more than a good bottle of whiskey. Something strong to slide down his throat and burn away the numbness and hurt and anger he figured he would soon feel due to her deceit.


'How could you?' She asked herself, finally gathering enough strength to pick herself up after long moments. Wiping at her eyes, Buffy walked out of the alley and down the street in the opposite direction that her husband had gone, ignoring the people asking if she was okay.

'I have to get home,' She thought before realizing she didn’t have a home to go to. 'You fucked that up, didn't you Buffy? Fucked it up when you hurt your home. When you hurt William.'

*****

Chapter 32: Worried


The first day Spike didn't show up at work without calling, Angel thought it weird.

The second day Spike didn't show up at work without calling, Angel got pissed off.

The third day Spike didn't show up at work, and wouldn't answer his phone, or his cell phone, didn't answer the door at his home, and neither did his wife, Angel got worried.








"And you're sure neither of them are at home?" Cordy asked a distraught Angel, closing the door to her office to have some privacy for her call.

"Yeah, baby, I went earlier and no one answered. His car wasn't even in the driveway."

"The hospital?" Cordy suggested. "Maybe something happened with Buffy" 'or the baby.' she finished in her mind hoping to gods that wasn’t, and would never be, the case. "Maybe she went into labor."

"I checked, Cordy. In every hospital in this damned city. All 130 of them. Twice! They're not anywhere. Oh God, what if something really bad happened?"

"We're not sure that anything--"

"But you can't know that!" Angel interrupted, slightly hysterical.

"I can't, Liam, but you need to calm down. If something did happen you are not going to be helping anyone any if you panic."

The stern tone to Cordelia's voice made Angel's thoughts stop for a mere moment. Closing his eyes, he took a deep, cleansing breath and let it out in a sigh, "you're right, sweetheart. You're right."

"Of course I am," Cordy joked lamely, trying not to show her husband how worried she was herself. 'Spike is a grown man. He is. And he's capable of taking care of himself and very much capable of taking care of his wife.' She went on in her head, trying hard to convince herself of the fact.

"And anyway, If something were to have happened," Cordelia continued after a few moments with her thoughts, "you'd be the first to know. After Buffy, he named you his next of kin, remember? When he signed the insurance papers?" She reminded him.

"Right." He breathed. "You're right. So, it's nothing too bad... right?" Angel asked, his tone not quite pacified but slowly and surely getting there.

"Right, but--"

"Something did happen." Angel continued his wife's sentence. "It's not like William to go off like this without telling anyone, and it's not like Buffy either. But... I can't just sit around here, waiting to hear about them, baby, I need to do something. He's my best friend, I owe it to him."

"I know, baby, but what can you do?" Cordy asked.

"I don't know," he sighed before, eyes widening with an idea, he exclaimed "Wait!" Pausing, he got his thoughts in order.

"Waiting..." Cordy said, encouraging him out of his thoughts.

"Do you still have the spare key? The one you made for that designer friend of yours? The one that helped you decorate when Spike was buying the house for Buff." Angel asked his wife.

"Yeah, I do," she answered, jumping on his train of though. "It's on the key hanger by the coat rack. Are you thinking of going over there again?"

"Yeah," answered Angel. "I think I am. I have to know, Cordy, if he's alright. I'm his only family."

"I know you do, baby." Cordy said sympathetically wishing she could leave work to go help her husband look for their best friends and hoping nothing was wrong with William or his family as well, even though a feeling of dread slowly filled her every pore.








Angel unlocked the door to Spike and Buffy's house, hesitating for a brief moment before poking his head in. He scrunched up his face, his nose wrinkling as the stale, musty smell oozing out of the house in copious layers hit him. Trying very hard to push the images of crime photos from some of their more ghastly cases out of his mind, he righted himself, took a deep breath of fresh, clean air and widened the opening in the door walking in.

Even with the house as dark as it was, Angel could see it was a mess and a quick flick of the light switched proved useless in shedding light to whatever had taken place. A quick glance to the ceiling revealed a broken light bulb.

Angel sighed. He hadn't seen Spike's car in the driveway when he drove up to the house earlier that day and it was still missing. He briefly considered taking stock of their things to see if anything else was missing from their place but knew he didn't have the mind to.

"Spike?" Angel called out walking further into the house not bothering to close the door behind him. "Will- William! It's Liam."

Angel's heart thundered with each step he took until he could feel every thud-thump of his heart in his toes, the sound deafening in his ears. A look at the kitchen revealed broken glass and cracked cabinet doors. The dining room table laid in pieces against the back door and what looked like weeks old pasta and other more unpleasant looking once-foods stained the walls.

What had happened here?