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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You thinking ‘bout the bit, luv?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

“Buffy, please look at me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So how old’s the bit now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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