Buffy stood over a bubbling crock-pot of chili, stirring it with one hand while the other lay on her aching back from the extra forty pounds she’d gained when she felt her husband’s arms slip around her waist to stroke her swollen belly.
Somebody’s been busy. She hadn’t made dinner, she’d created a banquet. A huge salad, homemade cornbread, baked potatoes, several tiny bowls full of condiments for the chili and freshly baked apple pie? Not just one, but three? Okay, sure, he’d taught her how to cook and even bake over the last year until she was fine on her own, but it seemed like an awful lot of food. And for him to think it... that was saying a lot.
“I rather like this look on you, luv.”
“And what look would that be?”
“Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, cookin’ my dinn-OW!” He received an elbow in the stomach for his jibe.
“Stand down, soldier, or you’ll be wearing your chow instead of eating it.
“Oi, pet. You know I don’ mean it.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Yes, you do. You enjoy issuing insults.”
“Tha’s not all I enjoy issuin’,” he whispered seductively, bucking his hips against her bottom.
She jabbed his stomach again. “Don’t go confusing your rank with my authority and I’ll let you live.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled. “You know you’re the Commander in Chief of this house, baby.” Feeling her tense as she placed a hand to her stomach, he asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah, mmph. Fine.” A sigh of relief rushed between her lips when the pain subsided. “Just the baby kicking.”
“He wants to get out... meet his father so we can start trainin’, get him ready for West Point.”
“And what if we have a girl?” But of course that didn’t deter his military frame of mind; his answer came with a shrug of indifference.
“West Point takes females.” He wanted to know what they were having after the ultrasound, but Buffy insisted on being surprised and even threatened the obstetrician into silence over the subject. He kissed her head again while rubbing her lower back with one hand to ease the pain his growing child was causing her.
“Mmmmm, that feels wonderful.” Setting her spoon down, she placed both hands on the counter and arched into his strong touch while closing her eyes.
“I’ll finish up here, pet. You go sit down and relax. After dinner I’ll give you a back massage, yeah?” The fact the entire house looked like she’d turned it upside down with her rearranging of things hadn’t escaped his attention. Which was fine with him, but the multitude of changes seemed like an awful lot to have achieved for one in her condition and the fact she’d done it during the eight days while he was gone?
“Really?” She turned into his arms and laid her head against his chest, enjoying the freshly showered smell of his skin. He’d come home not an hour ago from the field and this time he smelled a little too rank for her taste and had shoved a much grumbling Spike in the direction of the bathroom after only a short hug and a kiss.
“Anythin’ for you, pet.” He held her, gently stroking her long hair as his heart swelled with pride. She was giving him a child, and it was the second greatest gift he’d ever received next to her love and their marriage. “I want to have at least two more children.” He could picture a tiny house full of love and laughter, several blond children running around his beautiful wife, begging for her attention.
“Let’s get through having this one then we’ll negotiate that proposal.” Her pregnancy was as healthy as could be, but of course brought with it all the normal, physical annoyances. “I’m going to go take a quick shower then start another wash-load of your clothes.”
“You do that. I’ll have the table set by the time you’re done.” Giving her rear a playful pat, he was glad to be through with his latest FTX. His incessant worry over her being past her due date had him calling her several times a day even though cell phones weren’t allowed in the field, making her promise to text him the moment she thought she might be going into labor.
~~~*~~~
“Buffy! Would you PLEASE sit down? You’re makin’ me dizzy, pet.” She was running around the place doing chores with so much enthusiasm it was ridiculous. The house looked spotless, immaculate rather, so what was she trying to do, bloody sterilize it?
“But I need to get your uniforms pressed once they come out of the dryer, the dishes need to be put away and the bathtub still needs... what?” Did I sprout a third eye? That was the sort of look he was giving her.
He had to grab her in order to make her stop moving and face him. “Take a break.” He spoke slowly so she understood he was serious.” I jus’ got home, I wanna spend some time with my wife, not watch her run around.”
“But-”
“Whatever it is can wait. It’ll still be there waitin’ for you tomorrow. There’s no need to do anythin’ other than pay me a li’l attention.”
“But-”
“At LEAST for a bloody hour or two and then I’ll HELP you do whatever it is you feel needs to be done tonight.” So bloody difficult. Dragging her towards the couch as he spoke, he couldn’t believe how hard it was for her to relax. She wasn’t even looking at him; her eyes were still darting about like there were a million things left undone. “Sit before you burn yourself out.”
“Okay... you win.” Sighing in defeat, she knew he was right. But the last couple of days she felt great, really great. Had tons of energy and spent it spring cleaning and found it tough to remain still for any length of time. “Just... I’ll be right back.” He raised a warning brow at her. “I promise.” Kissing his cheek, she pulled his hands from her waist, er, where her waist used to be and headed for their bedroom.
“You’d better,” he called after her. “Jus’ because I can’ take you over my knee doesn’ mean you won’ get spanked.” Chuckling after her biting retort of ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’, he went and grabbed himself a cup of tea before sitting in front of the telly.
“Ughh. I so can’t wait to have this baby... to be able to see my feet again will be bliss.”
Waddling into the living room, Buffy carried a small pink tote, busy fumbling around inside it looking for something. “What are doin’ now?” he asked, exasperated. She sat next to him on the couch and propped a foot on the edge of the coffee table.
“I just need to paint my toenails.” Hey, if she had to sit, she may as well do something productive, right?
She opened the bottle and then struggled to get into a position that allowed her belly proper clearance so she could lean forward, but he could see it was difficult for her to breathe when she stretched to reach her toes. “You’re stressin’ yourself and crampin’ my son. Here.” Snatching the bottle out of her hand, he gestured toward the couch. “Lie back and get comfortable. I’ll do it.”
“You’re going to paint my toes?” she asked, her tone suggesting he wasn’t capable.
“Pfft! `S not rocket science, luv.” He pushed another pillow behind her head and moved so her feet were in his lap. “Have you been takin’ your vitamins like you should while I was gone?” Removing the brush of her strawberry pink polish, he grabbed a foot and started with her big toe.
“Of course, er, well, I did forget the other day.” Pausing from his work, he fixed her with a scolding pair of eyes.
He shook his head disapprovingly but let it drop. She’d become increasingly forgetful about a lot of things, an apparent hormonal by-product of pregnancy. “How did your appointment go the other day?” He tried to attend all of her appointments whenever he wasn’t in the field, but unfortunately that wasn’t very many. So with the help of Oz and Willow playing informant, he strictly enforced any orders or limitations the doc gave her.
“It was fine. I’m another half centimeter dilated,” she chirped happily, but it quickly turned to a frown. “I just wish there was something more I could do to speed this up. I hate getting poked, prodded and probed. So not fun.” Pouting, she went on to complain. “I mean, I’ve been eating spicy foods, taking super hot showers even took castor oil once... tried all the old-wives tales but nothing works.” Wow, he was a doing an awesome job on her toenails. Fast, too, she thought as he started in on her other foot.
Thinking it was pure rubbish for her to be doing any of it; he kept his opinion to himself when remembering something both Gunn and the doctor told them. “There’s one thing you haven’ been able to try that I’ll be glad to help you with tonight, baby.” His suggestive smirk had her pouting even harder. “Orgasms might trigger contractions plus-” he lowered his voice. “-you wouldn’ want to deny your husband after bein’ gone for several days... now would you, sweetheart?”
“I’m as big as a house!” she cried. “How can you even WANT to sleep with me? I’m fat for Christ sakes.” But that never stopped him... thank God. He was all too happy to feed her incessant desire for sex with no qualms whatsoever despite the positions she was limited to. Matter of fact, he was quite creative on occasion.
“You’re not fat, you’re pregnant. Look absolutely gorgeous bein’ pregnant.” Despite the moody factor, she was beautiful to him, stunning even. She wore her pregnancy well; constantly glowing, looking all sorts of cute in maternity clothes... he even admired the funny way she walked. Finishing the last of her tiny toes, he set the bottle down just as she winced and held her breath. “Are-you-alright?” he asked, rushing to place a hand over hers as she clutched her stomach.
She had to wait for the pain to pass before answering but managed a smile over his worried look. She adored his constant concern for her well being and even his over-protectiveness. From the time she’d told him he was going to be a daddy, he went from treating her like a princess to treating her like a queen, hardly letting her lift a finger or anything over ten pounds, making sure she napped whenever she needed, went to the store for any cravings she had and was always cooking a ton of food, insisting she eat “jus’ a few more bites... for the baby.” “I’m fine.”
“Kickin’ you again?” Lifting her shirt, he laid his hand and cheek on her belly, caressing it with his fingertips, listening as her stomach gurgled from dinner.
“My ribs. Really strong, too.” She placed a hand on his head, smiling as she listened to him coo and talk to his child.
“Better stop kickin’ your mum or you’ll be givin’ me fifty pushups the sec... bloody hell! Would you look at that? Guess he knows my voice, wants to talk.” A tiny limb rolled beneath her skin, a visible bump on the otherwise perfectly round mound of flesh. The sight never ceased to amaze him. He kissed the last place the baby appeared then sat up to shift on his side at the back of the couch so he could hold her. “Now, back to our original conversation...” Grabbing a handful of her breast, he fondled it while his lips sought out the patch of skin on her neck that always drove her crazy.
“Later. I wanna watch Passions.” Which, surprisingly, he’d actually managed to get her addicted to. But he was already getting to her, purposefully attacking ‘that spot’ with those soft lips and wicked tongue of his.
“Tha’s what the DVR `s for.” Pumping his hips into her backside, he was hard as nails. Anything past two days without sex was too long for him. “Record it.” He nipped at her skin. “Watch it later.” He reached beneath her shorts. “Want you now.” He launched every weapon within his sexual arsenal on her. She’d give in. Her libido would demand it.
Damnit! He was right and she was screwed, well, would be any second here. Hitting record on the remote, she closed her eyes, thoroughly distracted when she heard him slowly unzip his pants and let his touch ignite her needy body.
Minutes later and Spike was completely absorbed in the moment, focused on nothing else but making love to his wife when he mistook a sound she made for a moan of passion. What came out of her mouth when she suddenly whispered threw him off... waaaaaaaaaaay off in the left field of misunderstanding.
“Oooooo... Braxton Hicks.” Her hands gripped her stomach and much to her relief, Spike ceased all movement. What she didn’t expect was for him to pull out then tug on her shoulder so he could face her... with very jealous eyes and an accusatory tone in his voice.
“Who the BLOODY hell is Braxton Hicks?!?!”
“Oh my God, Spike.” She started laughing, but very quickly stopped when his expression hadn’t changed. Seems he seriously didn’t know so she clarified things for him. “It’s not a WHO, it’s a WHAT.”
“Huh?”
“Braxton Hicks. They’re contractions. FAKE contractions. You don’t remember what the doctor said? It’s the body’s way of practicing for the real thing... to contract in order to push the baby out.”
Bloody hell. Did he ever feel like a git! Wait a minute... “The doctor never told me that... and neither did you.” A guilty look spread across her features.
“Ooops?” she offered meekly. Thank God the jealousy melted from his face, because he’d seriously looked pissed. “Guess I forgot. It was probably the appointment I had while you were gone for seven weeks. Sorry?”
“No worries, luv. `M sorry, too... for over reactin’.” She nodded before he kissed her lips then teased him.
“I can’t believe you thought what you thought or think anyone would find a pregnant woman attractive.”
“Oi! `S not unreasonable some other bloke would want you. Pregnant or not, you’re bloody gorgeous, pet.”
Okay, so this was one of those rare moments he turned her to complete and utter mush. She may not believe that, but he did, every word of what he said, she could tell and it melted her heart. “Now that THAT’S cleared up, I believe you’re shirking your responsibility, soldier.”
“And what would that be, luv?” Such a bloody minx! Rubbing her bare and delectable arse against him like that while berating him military style.
“Whenever you’re not busy at work for Uncle Sam... your only duty is to please this booty.”
He was chuckling so hard the couch shook. “`M gonna have to keep Gunn away from you. He’s a bad influence.” He cracked a joke of his own in a unique way so he could get back to the ‘business’ of pleasing his wife and himself. “Mmmmmm, you can take the girl outta the Army... but-” He slid back inside her warmth to drive home the point of his jest. “-you can’ take the Army outta the girl.”
~~~*~~~
Zero four hundred hours.........
Stupid false contractions. “Oomph.” Why bother, she addressed her body while holding her stomach, I’m probably going to have to be induced anyway. Since it woke her up, she may as well use the bathroom. Oh the joy of having a baby sit on one’s bladder, making a woman have to pee nearly every twenty minutes. Night was the only time she got a break from the frequent trips, but even then it woke her an average of four times before the sun ever rose. At least she hadn’t disturbed Spike. He was exhausted from his training exercise and really needed the sleep.
Zero five thirty......
Go away, leave me alone, she groaned internally, I just wanna sleep. Looking at the digital clock on the nightstand, she was highly annoyed. Uh-uh, no way. She could hold it; ignore both the stupid tightening sensation to her belly and the need to use the toilet. The darkened form of her husband shifted to face her, his arm instinctively coming to rest across her abdomen. Ughh! She had to adjust where his hand had landed, no way could she get back to sleep with the weight of his embrace laying in such a manner as to add pressure to her bladder.
Zero six ten.........
Damn! That particular Braxton Hicks came with a hint of pain. But it was brief and passed like all the others so she dismissed it. Trip number five thousand four hundred and twenty five to the bathroom, coming up, or so it felt. They should have bought stock in Charmin because at this point, she’d gone through so much of the stuff the value had to have skyrocketed, the dividends alone were probably enough to send this baby to college.
Her body’s center of gravity had shifted drastically due to the extra weight she’d gained during these last two months, rendering her movements clumsy and difficult. She panted and groaned while rolling to one side, having to use her arms just to push herself upright so she could get out of bed. And there Spike lay... on his back, mouth hanging wide open, still snoring away peacefully. Envy wasn’t a word strong enough to describe how she felt that he got to slumber through the night undisturbed.
Zero six thirty.........
Okay, this was really starting to get on her nerves and there was definite pain involved this time as her stomach balled up so tight she could have dropped a pant size. Still convinced it was nothing, she made her roley-poley way to the bathroom but when she got back, Spike was awake.
“You alright, luv?” In the early morning’s light, he could see the annoyance on her face.
“No,” she huffed. “I mean yes. It’s just these stupid contractions are disturbing my sleep.” Crawling back under the covers, he startled her when he all but shouted.
“Contractions?!?!” He was half asleep, but that statement sure as hell put his brain on high alert.
“Calm down.” Jeez, jumpy much? “It’s just Braxton Hicks.”
“You sure?” He tucked her in tight then helped adjust the body pillow between her legs.
“Yeah. They’ve woken me up four times already.” His voice went suspicious on her.
“Four times?” She nodded. “How far apart?”
“Uhmm... the first one was around four... I think. Then the next was... maybeeeee five thirty. The one after that was definitely ten after six and then just now. Spike? What are you doing?” He was playing away with the controls on his watch.
“`M gonna start timin’ them.” From the sounds of things, these ‘fake’ contractions were steadily getting closer together. Turning a pointed finger at her, he ordered, “And you’re to let me know every time you have one.” She rolled her eyes at him.
“Whatever. I’m going back to sleep.”
“Buffy! `M serious!!!”
“Alright, just... go back to sleep so I can, too... please?”
Right! Like he was going to get any sleep now? He kissed her forehead then pulled her tight against him, choosing not to say anything more. If labor had begun, she was going to need the rest.
And sure as shit, every fifteen minutes for the next forty five, she had another before they steadily got closer and closer together.
Hmm, maybe I should change. She frowned in the mirror at the deep blue sweat suit she chose to wear. I look like Violet Beauregard right before the oompa-loompas started singing. “Would you stop that? There’s no need to panic.” Back and forth, back and forth Spike paced past the bathroom while she fixed her hair and makeup.
No need to panic, no need to panic she says. He was a bloody wreck. But did his wife help matters any? Nope. The bird was taking her sweet time, primping like she had all day. Until her contractions were five minutes apart, she absolutely refused to leave. According to the doctor, until they were five minutes apart she wasn’t in any danger and boy if she didn’t wait `til the last bloody contraction started at minute number four and had her doubled over.
“Tha’s it. Put the bloody curlin’ iron down. We’re leavin. Now!!!”
“Yeah... whew, okay... I’m good now.” The pain was steadily getting worse. She could barely breathe whenever the contractions came. And he was standing there looking nervous enough for the both of them, keys jingling in one hand, the bag of her ‘baby’ things he’d packed himself over two months ago dangling from the other.
He shuttled her as quickly as he could towards the car and fired up the engine, intent on breaking every motor vehicle law during the ten minute ride to the hospital. She swore he was punishing her by hitting every bump in the road on purpose, jolting her womb and intensifying the pain. And did he think she was going to drop this puppy in the parking lot when he made her perform the mad dash from the car to the doors of the hospital?
Once in the maternity ward and after being given a flimsy gown to change into, the nurse performed her initial exam and announced Buffy as six and a half centimeters dilated. “Looks like its baby today.” Then off she ran to find the anesthesiologist so Buffy could receive an epidural, leaving the couple alone.
Buffy turned to Spike, bursting into tears. “I’m scared,” she sobbed. “I don’t think I can do this.” Her Lamaze instructor said it could be hours of these contractions before her cervix reached the full ten centimeters required before she could start pushing... and that’s when the real pain began. It already hurt so bad she’d much rather go through Basic all over again, even with Spike as her Drill Sergeant.
“Yes, you can, luv.” Bloody hell he hated seeing her cry. He stroked her hair, covered her up with a blanket, did whatever he could to comfort her. “You’re my girl, you’re tough, you’re-”
“But the pain.” As if her body wanted to prove her point, another contraction hit, so hard it made her throw up.
Thirty minutes later and the nurse came back with the anesthesiologist in tow. Spike held Buffy’s hand after they turned her on her side and began swabbing her spine with iodine. At the first sight of what had to be the largest needle in history however, he began to sweat.
“Be right back, pet.”
“Wait!” she cried hysterically, gripping his hand as tight as she could. “Where are you going?”
“Needle.” He began panting. “Big. Long.” He turned white. “Bloody huge.”
Coward! But she couldn’t really be mad with him. It was better to have him leave than to throw up on her. She’d been doing enough of that for the both of them. “Go and call everyone then come back.” He nodded gratefully, leaving the room without another word from his pale lips.
‘The plan’ had been in place now for months. Once her parents received a phone call from Spike to tell them she was in labor, they would be on the next available flight to New York. Willow was coming as soon as she got word to film the birth while her father-in-law promised to drive the seventy two miles from his home in Syracuse to be here as well. To Buffy, Giles Speichart and his son couldn’t have been more different, personality-wise, if they tried. The older Brit, who’d quickly become like a second father to her, was so proper and reserved that it genuinely surprised her when she learned of his youthful, ahem, ‘adventures’ as ‘Ripper’. She supposed it explained where Spike got his attitude from, but when joking as to whether or not he’d act more ‘Giles-like’ as he got older, she received a unanimous 'not bloody likely' from both men.
~~~*~~~
The hours seemed to drag on, and on, and on. But with miracle of modern medicine, Buffy was good to go. Numb from the waist down and smiling, she chatted away with everyone until the nurse came by to check on her for what felt like the zillionth time. Giles cleared his throat, about to excuse himself for the sake of Buffy’s privacy but the nurse had already flipped the sheet over Buffy’s knees, forcing him to shuffle and stand by her head.
She still had a couple of centimeters left to dilate before she was ready to push and after Willow mentioned feeling hungry, the nurse told them they had plenty of time to grab something to eat.
“I’m feeling rather peckish myself. Perhaps I-I could join you?” Giles asked Willow.
“Sure. There’s a restaurant just around the corner.” Looking to Buffy she added, “It shouldn’t take us long. We’ll be back before you know it. Did you want anything while we’re out, Spike?”
“`M fine. Think `m gonna head outside for a smoke, though. Will you be alright without me, pigeon?”
“I’ll be fine. You go ahead.”
While everyone left her room, there’d been a shift change of hospital personnel. Major Lorne Krevswath, the obstetrician now on duty, made his rounds visiting each woman still in labor before finally coming to talk with Buffy for a few minutes. She was thrilled to know he’d be the one delivering her baby as he was the doctor she’d seen most often for her appointments. Good old funny Lorne was always at the ready with a quip and a smile. Their conversation was interrupted, however, when another medic stopped by to let him know one of his patients was ready to begin pushing.
Lorne excused himself and as the minutes passed, Buffy wondered what was taking Spike so long to get back, especially because she was starting to feel when her contractions came. She wasn’t supposed to feel anything, hadn’t felt anything since getting the epidural. What pain came with the next two contractions though, was relatively mild so she ignored it, especially when she saw a familiar face pass by her door. She called out, “Xander?” It was him, the only other friend she’d had in Basic. He’d been assigned to a different company when they all went to AIT and therefore lost contact with her and Willow.
At the sound of his name, he turned around, a bright smile lighting his face up when seeing who it was. “Summers?” Walking into her room, he was truly surprised to see her. “Wow! How are you?” He felt all sorts of stupid when she rubbed her swollen belly.
“At the moment... pregnant.” She was so stunned to see him, it never registered he’d used her maiden name. They embraced for a quick hug before he pulled up a chair. “You’re assigned to the MEDDAC? When did you get here?”
“I finished in-processing on Thursday. Today is my first day. I’m working the front desk.”
“Did you... ohhh!” Her hands flew to her stomach.
“Do you need me to call someone?” Ecstatic as he was to see her, the circumstances under which he’d run into her wigged him out.
“No, I’m fine. The nurse said it would be awhile.” Letting go of her belly, she grabbed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile.
“So how’ve you been? Other than, well...” he trailed off, waving a hand at her stomach.
Oh boy, did they ever have a lot to catch up on... a ton in fact! He’s never going to believe who I married. She was about to speak when another contraction hit, distracted from her thoughts by the intense pain it brought with it.
Seeing her face screwed up in genuine agony, he stuttered through his next sentence. “I-I’m just going to... to go g-get someone.” She was shaking her head no but he snatched his hand back and dashed out of the room regardless.
“I’m okay,” she huffed though he was already gone. A few seconds later, he returned with a nurse then came back to hold her hand while she was being examined. She directed her next statement to the nurse. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to feel anything.”
“Well, you’ll feel some pain the closer you-OH-MY-GOD!” Her eyes met Buffy’s. “Whatever you do... DON’T push.”
“What?!?!” came a unified cry from the two friends.
“The baby’s head is halfway down the birth canal.”
Buffy gasped and immediately snapped her legs shut. “Oh no,” she groaned, clutching Xander’s hand even tighter. “Don’t leave me.”
“Uh, uh, uh...” This was so not how he envisioned his first day on the job. But how he could say no with the way she was begging him?
“Please?”
“O-okay.” He tried to remain calm but was soon panting alongside of her, mimicking her pursed lips as she practiced her Lamaze breathing. “Everything’s - ah-phoo, ah-phoo - gonna be alright. The Xan-man - ah-phoo, ah-phoo - is here,” he reassured more for his own sake than hers. Where the hell was her family? Her husband?
“Harris!” Spike bellowed upon reaching the doorway, fuming to see his old recruit holding his wife’s hand.
Xander whipped his head in the direction of the voice and immediately blanched. “I-I... I’m seeing things.” Looking back at Buffy, he asked, “Right? Tell me I’m seeing things please because it took me weeks to stop having nightmares about that man.” But Buffy’s focus was on their former Drill Sergeant when she spoke.
“Where have you been, I’m-”
“Excuse me,” the nurse interrupted, Lorne in tow, all but pushing Spike aside to drag a metal roller tray full of instruments behind her so fast it bumped into the wall with a loud clang.
Spike stood next to Willow, eyes still fixed on the boy while his father trailed past him to go and hold Buffy’s other hand. He was about to explain his extended absence, that he’d called Gunn, Faith and Tara as well as her mother to report on Buffy’s progress but Willow spoke first.
“Xander?!?!” Willow asked, caught off guard by the sight of her old high school pal.
“Willow?!?!”
Buffy cried out as another contraction hit. “SPIKE!”
“Buffy?!?!” he panicked while Harris just sat there stunned, still staring at him with a horrified expression as he spoke.
“Sergeant Speichart?!?!”
“Giles here,” the older Brit held up a finger and smiled as he introduced himself.
“Great!” Lorne slapped his hands together, grinning. “Now that we’re all acquainted, shall we get started?”
Every head swiveled in his direction as he closed the door for privacy.
“Bloody hell! This is really happenin’.” Spike said more to himself while his wife answered him sarcastically.
“Ya think?!?!” Glancing at Xander, she thought she might better inform him who Spike was, because he was clearly confused and looking more than a bit tense. “Spike’s my husband.” And if it weren’t for the pain, she would have laughed at his reaction.
Xander’s eyes instantly bulged from their sockets while simultaneously snatching his hand from her grip. “Y-you married... IT?!?!”
“Oi!” Spike responded, thoroughly irritated with the boy’s question. He stalked towards them, an evil smirk curling his lips when the lad jumped back five feet to plaster himself against a wall.
“But... you... a-and he...” His finger alternated pointing between the two blonds who were reputed for having hated one another, slinking his way towards the door.
“Long story,” Willow added to the conversation. “For another time.” Obviously, she added to herself judging from the fact Lorne had removed the sheet from Buffy’s lower half and was now holding the medical hook needed to break her water with. She grabbed up her video camera and sat down in the corner of the room, letting everyone know, “We’re rolling!”
“Harris, if you’re going to stay, why don’t you make yourself useful and hold one of our patient’s legs?” Lorne instructed Buffy next. “Whenever you feel the next contraction, you can start pushing.”
“Ahhh, uhmm, okay.” Nope! This was definitely not the way he imagined spending his first day on the job.
As Xander moved towards Buffy, Spike’s temper flared at the thought of him seeing her so exposed. “Like bloody hell you will!”
“Spike, don’t!” Buffy rushed to diffuse the situation. “Let him stay. I’m okay with it and this is no time for jealousy.”
Looking at his wife’s pleading expression, he felt guilty, knowing she was right. “Fine!” Nodding his consent towards the shaking boy, he couldn’t help the low growl of disapproval that came from his throat.
“Thank yooOOOUU-OW-OW-OW!”
“Well, my dear,” Giles interjected, pausing to kiss Buffy’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll do splendid.” Reaching over to tap Spike on the shoulder, he told him. “I think it’s time for us to step outside. Shall we, son?”
“Right then.” They both went to stand but Buffy prevented them.
“NO!” she screamed and tightened her hold to their hands. “You can’t leave me, Giles, please?!?!” Her father-in-law’s face contorted in pain while bending at the waist under her crushing grip.
“G-good Lord. Your wife is quite... c-convincing. A-and terribly strong, I might add.” Much to his relief, she released him but only to turn a stormy expression on his son, her voice angry and accusing.
“You did this to me you sonuvabitch! You’re not going anywhere.” Try and leave me to do this by myself and I swear, she grumbled internally even as he audibly gulped, anxiety painting his face.
“Don’t mind me, folks,” Lorne sighed as if bored. Comical as the situation was, this baby was going to come with or without anyone in the room. “Are you the grandfather?” he asked Giles who quickly nodded while shaking his injured hand and using his good one to tug nervously at his bow tie. “I’d like for you to hold her other leg because the nurse has to be available to hand me things as I need them.”
“Ermm, y-yes. Yes, of course.” He muttered a nervous ‘bloody hell’ under his breath but did as asked, trying for propriety’s sake not to look at his daughter-in-law’s private region.
“Oh noooo,” Buffy whined. “I haven’t shaved my legs in like three days.” It horrified her to have everyone see the stubble adorning her calves.
“Oh, that’s it!” Lorne threw his hands in the air disgusted. “I-I simply can’t work under these conditions.” When he had everyone’s attention, he winked and chuckled. “Relax, Buffy. I’ve seen it all.” He laughed some more as she rolled her eyes, allowing her head to fall back against the pillow in recognition he’d made a joke at her expense.
“I can’t belie-OWWW-ERRRRRGH!”
“That’s your cue to push, sweety.”
Giles rushed to take up residence near her foot, grasping an ankle.
“Now take a nice deep breath and let it go. Push, Buffy, push!”
She did, or so she thought, she pushed, and pushed, and pushed, grunting during the contraction, a sheen of perspiration breaking out across her forehead in the process.
Spike ignored the death grip she had to his hand and watched her face turn red; thinking the single blue vein beneath her temple was going to burst any second from the effort she exerted.
“Push for me, Buffy-sweety,” Lorne repeated.
“I AM!!!” she snapped back. What the hell did he think she was doing, filing her nails?
From behind the camera, Willow jumped to Lorne’s defense but was careful to keep her voice calm. “He-he’s just trying to help, Buffy.”
“Then hand him a pair of forceps or stay out of it!”
Everyone in the room went tense except for the nurse and Lorne. “Don’t worry, cupcake.” He threw the shocked red-head a wink. “I get cursed at daily. It comes with the job.”
“Breathe, luv.” Spike whispered when Buffy finished pushing, hating to see her in so much pain. Uh-oh! The look on her face could have struck everyone dead in the room.
“I... AM, you imbecile!” she ground out. “Like I’d STOP?” Funny how pain made for instant-bitchy-Buffy, but at this stage in the game, she simply didn’t care. “Oh, oh, oh, ow-OW-ERRRRRRGH!”
“You’re doing wonderful. Keep going.” Not long now, Lorne thought as the head traveled further down the birth canal. “That’s it... beautiful! Take another deep breath and give me a good push when you’re ready.” From the corner of his eye, he noticed the Englishman holding her ankle turn suddenly pale. “Put your head down,” he addressed him. “Rest your chin on your chest and put your head down.” He didn’t want the gentleman to pass out.
“O-okay,” Buffy replied. It was an odd request but she did the best she could, thinking Lorne was talking to her and unable to see over the mound of her stomach what was really happening.
“Not you, lemon-drop.” Lorne chuckled. “Seems gramps here isn’t feeling so well.”
“Indeed,” came Gile’s croaking reply. He did his best not to look, but the glance he’d spared by accident and the sight of fluids that suddenly gushed from his son’s wife made his head dizzy.
Lorne, seeing the old man begin to hyperventilate, turned to tell Spike, “If you would, please move your father to another chair and kindly take up his place holding Buffy’s leg.”
“Huh? Oh, uhmm, right.” Buffy was about to protest but he gave her hand a quick squeeze and kissed her cheek. “`S alright, luv. `M still here.” She nodded, letting him go so he could help his dad.
Another contraction hit her and after gathering what strength she had, she began pushing again through gritted teeth. “Aaaa-ARRRRGH!” The pain was so blinding, she simply couldn’t stifle the scream.
The sound had Spike scrambling to get his father seated so he could occupy his spot.
“That’s perfect,” Lorne told her then turned to the nurse, holding his hand out. “Local, please.”
Xander had been stoic up to this point, was quite proud of himself actually, but when he watched Lorne stick Buffy’s perineum with the needle he turned piqued. “Can I throw up now?” he asked Spike as the Brit sat down.
Lorne asked for the next instrument he needed so he could make room for the baby’s head to crown, ignoring the men on either side of him.
“Wha’s the matter with you?” Spike looked at the whelp to find his eyes screwed shut, a single finger pointing straight ahead. Turning to see the reason for Nancy boy’s distress, he was greeted by the sight of the doctor finishing the last snip to the flesh of her bottom, his child’s tiny, mucous-membrane covered head slightly visible and blood; so much blood that his vision began to blur.
“I know it’s painful, sweety, but you have to push for me again.” Lorne handed the scissors off to the nurse and brought his hands back in preparation to receive the slippery baby should he come rushing out.
“You’re a man, how could you POSSIBLY know what this feels-”
THUD!!!
“Uh,” Willow gasped from her corner while Buffy’s eyes darted left and right, confused, her question directed at no one in particular.
“What the hell was that?” All thoughts of pushing and pain fled as she sat up straight to find the source of the loud noise.
“Oh-good-heavens!” Giles pulled his glasses off to begin cleaning them furiously. “I do believe William has passed out.” His daughter-in-law’s enraged reaction came as no surprise.
“WHAT?!?!”
“Huh,” Lorne looked down at the floor. “Would you look at that?” Shrugging, he turned back to Buffy and waved it off. “Don’t worry about him... happens all the time with men. Now I need you to concentrate on pushing.”
“Oh, HELLLLLL no. I’m not doing anything. Not until someone wakes him the fuck up.” Lorne gave her an incredulous look but she didn’t care. No way was Spike going to get out of this-this... birth by going unconscious on her!
“Can I slap him?” Xander asked, an all too eager look on his face.
“There isn’t time. This baby is coming whether Daddy here is out cold or not. I need for you to push, Buffy. Please?” Lorne pleaded with his patient, but she shook her head, refusing to budge on the issue.
“Slap him, pour cold water on his face, break out the smelling salts, whatever it takes. I’m not doing a damn thing until he’s awake!”
Xander gratefully left his ‘post’ to go to the drawer the nurse indicated, grabbed the white, cotton ampoule then gave it a twist to break free the pungent preparation of ammonium carbonate and perfume, waving it under Spike’s nose.
“Arghh! What the... bloody hell?” He felt arms lifting him up from the floor as he shook his head, trying to make sense of where he was until he was plopped into a chair by Buffy’s head. Rubbing the goose egg that was forming on the back of his head, he asked, “What happened?”
“You blacked out on me, that’s wha-ow-OW-AAAHHHHHH!”
“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it,” Lorne cried, encouraging her. “Don’t stop, keep pushing.”
That brought Spike back in a hurry and he reached to clasp Buffy’s hand, the knock to his noggin forgotten and the sweat from his nerves resuming.
“Give me one more good one, Buffy, just ooooone more-YES!”
“Ohhhh... God!” She let out a sigh of relief and slumped back on the bed.
The nurse held a blanket ready while Lorne suctioned the amniotic fluid from the child’s mouth and nasal cavity. “It’s a boy,” he announced happily over the sounds of the child’s first fragile cry. He took care of cutting the umbilical cord after Spike declined while the nurse took the infant so he could deliver the afterbirth then suture Buffy’s episiotomy.
Spike soothed his wife’s hair back, alternating between kissing her head and telling her what a great job she did, how proud he was of her. “Thank you, kitten, for giving me my son.”
The admiration, the twinkle of happiness in his eye had her shedding a tear of joy. She reached up to cup his cheek, truly happy to have given him what he wanted. The nurse was busy cleaning their son and checking him over, affording Xander, Willow and Giles to relay their congratulations.
“Well, my work here is done.” Lorne peeled off his gloves and covered Buffy with a fresh blanket. “You two enjoy that cute new baby of yours.” He shook Spike’s hand firmly with a smile and then left, leaving the door open on his way out.
The nurse looked up from her clip board while everyone but the new parents huddled and cooed over the tiny infant as he lay in the warming bed. “The baby’s name?”
“Charles Oswald Speichart,” Buffy beamed proudly. They’d chosen a combination of Oz and Gunn’s names since they had so much to do with getting them together as a couple.
“I still prefer Randy... it’s a strong, sturdy name, a family name,” Giles said, though he didn’t rightly care what they chose to name his perfect little grandson, he was currently too busy making with the coochie-coochie-coos.
“Yeah, why not just call him horny Randy or desperate for a shag Randy,” Spike whispered in Buffy’s ear, making her giggle. He stood to remove his sweat soaked T-shirt just as the nurse brought their blue bundle of joy to them.
Buffy nodded to Spike, wanting him to be the first to hold their child. “Go ahead.” He looked so cute, acting all nervous as he took their son from the nurse like he was made of glass, fumbling awkwardly until he had a good grasp. His face was awash in awe as he opened the blanket so Charles could wave his tiny fists about and meet his father’s kiss to his cheek.
“Hey-hey, Pops,” Gunn appeared, rapping on the open door before walking inside, his wife following behind him. “Where’s the little tax break at?”
“Awwww,” Fred sighed. “Doesn’t that just make you want to have another one?”
THE END
Have a great week and please take the time to drop me a line even if you’ve never left a review, I’d really love to hear from you and always appreciate as well as answer every single one of them. I’m shedding a tear as I let go of this story because I put so much of myself and direct experience into it... yes, even a lot of the labor and birth scenes is all me, folks - complete with the primping and taking my time, giggles. Hope you enjoyed the ride as much I loved writing it. Hugs.