Spike growled as his feet were roughly knocked from their perch on the living room coffee table. “Christ, woman! You’ve already dusted the bloody thing twice!”

Buffy shook her head, but proceeded to vigorously wipe away at the table anyway. “Well, if you’d keep your feet on the floor--where they belong, might I add--I wouldn’t have to keep cleaning up after you.”

The vampire bit back an acerbic retort--no use pissing off a very pregnant Slayer. “Look, luv. Why don’t you just sit down and relax a bit? I’m sure the living room’s clean enough--you’ve been at it all morning.” Truth was, Spike was a bit worried about Buffy. She’d been tired, listless for well over a month, practically lacking the energy to climb the stairs to go to bed. But that morning something inside of her had snapped and she’d been scrubbing away at any and every surface she could still reach. Surely, she’d wear herself out...

“Well, that’s just the living room--have you seen the dining room? There are some finger marks in the cabinet’s glass, and the carpet needs a good vacuuming...”

That’s it... the bleached blonde thought to himself, as he went to stand up. Someone had to stop the whirling dervish before she hurt herself. “Ok, pet. I think that’s more than enough... ow!!”

Turning around, he looked up and saw Joyce standing behind him. He rubbed the back of his head where she’d hit him with the wooden spoon. “What the hell was that for?”

The older woman bent over beside him, resting her forearms on the back of the couch. In a quiet voice, she tried reasoning with him. “She’s not going to hurt herself. She’s nesting--it’s something that many pregnant women do right before they’re ready to give birth. It’s kind of a... boost of energy, I guess. Anyway, if she wants to clean the house from top to bottom, you’re going to sit there and keep your mouth shut. This is the first time I’ve seen her put so much effort into dusting without my having to threaten her.”

Spike couldn’t help but chuckle. It was odd seeing Buffy in such a domestic tizzy. He got up and decided to follow Joyce into the kitchen. She’d be much better company than the young blonde armed with a dust rag.

“Must be strange, for you, to go through all this...” Joyce kept most of her attention focussed on the lasagna she was preparing, but let Spike know that she was there if he wanted to talk. Which they still did often over a cup of hot chocolate, after Buffy was in bed.

The vampire hopped onto one of the barstools and rested his elbows on the counter. “Strange doesn’t even cover it, Joyce. The whole thing’s bloody out of this world. I’ve never even given tots a second thought, really--not even before I was turned. Well, not a positive second thought. Now Dru, she was the one who was...” He saw her back stiffen, her imagination obviously running a mile a minute. He’d shared a few of his stories with her, so she wasn’t ignorant of the kind of activities he and his sire were capable of. “Well, ‘s not the place for that anymore. But I never imagined I’d be in a situation where I was preparin’ to take care of a baby.”

He paused, taking a moment to breathe in the aroma of the onions and ground beef. Vampire diet be damned--he could bet that given the choice between a cup of blood and Joyce’s lasagna, he’d choose the latter. “When I was still human, we didn’t have all the gadgets you folks have nowadays. No monitors, no breast pumps, car seats... It’s all so bloody confusing having to wrap my mind around all of that rot.”

Sprinkling generous amounts of oregano on the cooking mixture, Joyce turned back towards him and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Spike--we’ve discussed this before. You’ve been around for more than a century--as weird as it always is, saying that. It just shows that you adapt well. You use the microwave, you’re the one who set up the DVD when we got it, you’ve managed to teach yourself to use my laptop...” She chuckled out loud at the deer-in-the-headlights look that the vampire gave her. “I don’t mind, just as long as you clear out the history when you’re done. It’s really best if I don’t know what it is that you’re using it for...”

If the vampire had enough blood in him, he knew he’d be blushing at her revelation. What the heck could he say to that? ‘Sorry I’ve been looking at porn on your computer?’ He just sat there, mouth agape, trying to find anything to say in response. However, Joyce spared him the trouble.

“I said I don’t mind, Spike--I really don’t. I remember what it was like when I was pregnant with Buffy. Not that you need to hear this from an old lady...”

“You’re a babe compared to me, Mum.”

“Oh, that‘s right--I keep forgetting that. But I remember that sex wasn’t exactly at the forefront of my mind. Actually, I doubt it would have been on my top twenty list... So don’t feel bad about it. Just mind that nothing pops up on me randomly. I can’t imagine what excuse I’d have to come up with if I was sitting with a prospective buyer and a marital aid window were to pop up.”

Spike was about to thank her when Buffy walked into the kitchen. She looked around and gave him a dirty look, prompting him to remove his elbows from the countertop. Hopefully this nesting thing wasn’t a week-long affair or he’d be moving back to the crypt...

“Mom--what are you doing?” She’d just cleaned the kitchen that morning, and now her mom had the gall to actually use it, getting it dirty in the meanwhile.

“I’m cooking dinner, dear--what does it look like?” Joyce bit her lip at the tone of voice her daughter had used with her. She repeated her mantra over and over again: It’s almost over, it’s almost over, it’s almost over...

“But I just cleaned this room! Now you have tomato sauce on the counter...”

Spike could sense an imminent battle brewing, with Joyce’s back gone ramrod straight and Buffy’s increasingly loud whine. If he let this go on, both women would say things they’d regret. Life in the Summers household--well, in any household--was Twilight-Zone weird when the vampire was the level-headed one. “Ok, pet. Your mum’s gotta keep us fed, now doesn’t she? Why don’t we go upstairs and make sure you’re all packed up for the hospital. Wouldn’t do anyone any good if you forgot something important, now would it?” He didn’t even give her any chance to respond as he tore the dust cloth from her grip, tossed it onto the counter and dragged her out of the room.

***

“Do you think I need to bring my conditioner?” Buffy called out from the bathroom, where she had the cupboard open to her perusal.

“Don’t know, luv. Really up to you, innit?”

Spike sat on the bed and pulled the baby bag onto his lap. He turned it upside down and dumped its contents out onto the bed. There wasn’t much in it--not like there would be in Buffy’s suitcase, once she fit the kitchen sink in there. He picked up one of the diapers--sure as hell didn’t have nappies like these, he thought as he noted the notch that was cut at the waist. He played with the side velcro strips, peeling them onto and off of the cartoon character--some fuzzy orange thing with a big nose. The diaper instigated a dual thought--first, that the baby would be tiny to actually fit into this piece of plastic; second--that something so big would have to come out of someone as small as his Buffy.

“How about lip gloss?”

Spike shook his head as he picked up a tiny sleeper. “Lip balm, they said. Don’t know why you’d need lip gloss...”

“But I’ve already got the lip balm in my makeup bag.”

“Then leave the lip gloss behind. You won’t be in a mind to think about lookin’ pretty when you’re in labour, pet.” The little outfit he was holding was beige and had Winnie the Pooh on it--now there was a character he recognized. Not like those Moppets or Muffets or whatever the hell those other things were... He brought his attention back to the grumbling blonde; hollering so she could hear him, he continued. “You’ll be ravishing, love--glowing. No need for false beauty.” Ok. Maybe he was laying it on thick, but she seemed to have accepted it since the grumbling had died down.

A pack of diapers, two outfits with matching hat, a couple of blankets and a soother--the baby’s bag was much, much lighter than its mummy’s...

The vampire turned his attention to Buffy’s suitcase. Two pairs of pyjamas, slippers, a nursing bra, a change of clothes to come home in, a pack of heavy-duty hygienic pads... and the pile kept growing. He grumbled when he saw the pads--waste of good blood, in his opinion; but then he’d never been on those kind of terms with the Slayer when she had had her period, so he had no way of knowing if she’d go for that kind of thing.

As he was putting everything back in the suitcase--who could guess how she’d react to an unmade suitcase in her present mood--Spike heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by an ‘oh!’ coming from the bathroom. A few things were knocked over before Buffy called out to him.

“Spike?”

If she asks me ‘vanilla bath gel or strawberry’, I swear I’ll snap... “What’s up?” The bleach blonde’s brow furrowed as he heard the Slayer turn on the sink faucet. What the heck was that girl up to?

“Eww... Can you come here, please?”

There was an eerie calm to her voice that had been absent all day. She’d been on pins and needles, edgy about the cleaning, nervous about everything else. Spike finished placing the pyjamas back at the top of the suitcase and walked over to the bathroom. When he found Buffy in her top and underwear, on the ground on all fours, scrubbing the floor, he nearly lost it.

“What the bloody hell are you doing on the floor? I thought you were done washing, luv--I don’t care what your mum says, this can’t be good for either you or the bit.” He knelt down beside her and paused for a moment. Something was off. Something smelled... strange. What was it that she was cleaning off the floor, anyway?

His eyes grew wide as they met hers. “Buffy?”

“Yup. My water just broke.”

Author's Note:Ok, guys--one chapter and and epilogue left to go. I'm really hoping to get the chapter done this week, but as it'll probably be a long one I can't make any promises. Mini-Piper is on the way (due in one week to the day), so that may also affect my tentative schedule.
Thanks so much to those who reviewed--it always means so much to me.