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It took Wood a week to feel fully recovered. Willow and Tara had obligingly performed small healing charms on Darla’s mark, and though the scar would be there to remind him of his foolishness, it was painless. If people noticed that the redheaded witch seemed a little more withdrawn than usual, nobody commented.

However, during the course of the week, when the Scoobies in general were cheerful and relieved that their mentor was still alive, Buffy began to realise that both Willow and Oz seemed withdrawn from the general feeling of contented happiness blanketing their friends.

She wondered if anybody else had noticed, and watched quietly from a distance as the other Scoobs lived in blissful ignorance of the dread that seemed to hang over two of their members. Only Tara seemed to have noticed something, and Buffy often found the other witch’s eyes lingering on the two.

By the time Wood was fully recovered, Giles had approached Buffy with his concerns. “Have you noticed anything… strange about Willow and Oz lately?”

The vampiress shot him a brief smile. “I’ve been watching them for a while. It’s odd; Oz seems fine, just a little thoughtful. But Willow… She smells different.”

Giles had to pause a minute as the strangeness of her comment sank in. Buffy noticed his hesitation and smiled sadly. After that, her former Watcher kept his moments of confusion to himself, though she took care to edit her words around him and all the Scoobs except Spike.

“Different in a bad way?”

“Not really. Just… different. It kinda made me wig the first time I noticed it. I thought she was sick.”

The older man nodded thoughtfully, but Oz came into the room and they switched the topic to less personal matters. Buffy took a surreptitious sniff, but he still smelled like that strange mixture of human and beast. His eyes met hers, predator to predator, and he nodded slightly to acknowledge the fact that he could see her concern.

Things seemed to come to a head the night Wood ventured out of his bedroom. Willow and Oz had requested a full Scooby meeting. Xander and Anya settled in one corner, wrapping their arms around one another. Tara perched gracefully on the edge of an armchair. Giles and Wood took the couch, while Spike grabbed the other armchair.

Buffy, entering the room last, paused and looked around for a place to sit. That was when she heard it. Her head snapped around at exactly the same moment as the werewolf’s. At first she thought she’d imagined it, but then it came again: A low, muffled thump. A faint heartbeat.

And it all clicked into place. The way Willow smelled different, but not unhealthy, their slight withdrawal from the group. They were afraid, not for themselves, but for someone else. Understanding flickered in her eyes as her lips curled up in a grin. Glancing around, she let her eyes settle on Spike.

He patted his knee invitingly, and she crossed the room and settled onto his lap. One strong arm locked around her waist, pulling her until her back was pressed firmly against his chest. He lowered his head, nuzzling at her neck and nibbling her ear, making her giggle and slap at him half-heartedly.

When everybody had settled down and a hush fell over the odd assortment of humans and demons, Willow turned to Oz. For the first time since Buffy had known him, the werewolf let his emotions show on his usually indifferent face. A smile lit his features, a mixture of smugness and affection.

The witch gripped his hand nervously, facing her curious audience. “Um, I don’t know how to say this in a we-still-love-you way and not sound like an überbitch so I’m just gonna spit it all out in one.” She paused, taking a deep breath before blurting it out. “We’re leaving.”

A murmur of protest swept the Scoobs as they leaned forward, but Oz held up a hand for quiet. When it again fell, Willow continued. “Not right now, but soon. I wanted you to be the first to know.” She again lapsed into silence. Oz squeezed her hand and suddenly her chin came up and a delighted but dazed smile swept across her face. “I’m gonna be a mommy.”

There was a long moment of absolute silence as what she’d just said soaked through to everyone. Then the room exploded with noise. Buffy was gently lifted to her feet before Spike rose, dropping a heated kiss on her cheek and patting her on the bottom before he swooped down on his redheaded friend and crushed her in a tight hug.

When she squirmed, he seemed to realise that suffocating Willow probably wasn’t conductive to her health, or the baby’s. Releasing her, he turned to Oz, clapping him on the back with a broad grin. Then everyone but Tara and Buffy crowded to the centre of the room, enveloping the soon-to-be parents in a writhing mass of Scoobies.

When Spike finally fought his way to the open air again, he noticed Buffy looking on with a wistful smile. The realisation that she would never have this had hit her hard. As the Slayer, she’d only ever been able to think for the moment. She had entertained vague ideas of a husband and children, but knew they were unlikely.

Now, seeing Willow’s proud smile and Oz’s protective watchfulness, she felt a dull ache inside. Her eyes found Spike as he watched her and another blow struck her. She’d never be able to give him this. His future with her was a lonely one, without the many joys of parenthood.

Agony, crippling in its intensity, swept through her as she realised what she had to do. Smiling sadly, she lifted a hand and waved goodbye. Turning towards the door, she began to walk. Every step made her heart break a little bit more, and her legs felt like lead as she forced them to keep moving.

She reached for the door handle, only to find her ribs protesting as a hard body slammed her into the door. Spike’s scent filled her nostrils as he rubbed against her provocatively, his voice a low, sexy growl that couldn’t mask the hurt he was feeling.

“I knew what I was gettin’ into when I took up with you, love. ‘m not about to let you walk out of my life.”

She turned in his arms, seeing the fierce protectiveness in his eyes. “Am I?”

His brow wrinkled in confusion. “What?”

“Am I your love?”

Spike inhaled sharply, fear rising rapidly in him. Could he make that commitment, knowing what the implications of a relationship with a vampire were? He thought for a long minute before looking down into her eyes. Yes. He crushed his mouth to hers in a hard, passionate kiss, only tearing his mouth away to speak roughly in her ear.

“You’re my world, Buffy. My friend, my equal, my love. I’m drownin’ in you, Summers, and God help me I don’t wanna be saved. You’re mine.”

The air rushed from his lungs as her eyes flashed silver and she reversed their positions, slamming him back against the door. As she sucked and nibbled teasingly on his neck, her husky purr drifted to his ears.

“No, Slayer. You’re mine.”





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