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Title: Unexpected Blessings
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com





~~~~~
The Seventh Month
~~~~~



Small, soft fingers were creeping up his back,
stopping now and then to tickle him awake.

"Spike? Are you awake?"

He shook his head. "No."

"You are too!"

"No, I'm not. You're dreaming, darling."

He burrowed deeper into his pillow, tempted to
cover his head with it.

"Honey...come on." There was a short pause. "I'm
hungry."

Spike sighed. He was beginning to regret ever start-
ing this "breakfast in bed" business. It seemed like
Buffy was waking up earlier and earlier every morning.
He felt as though he'd only just gotten to sleep.

He lifted his head and stared, bleary-eyed at the
clock. It was later than he'd thought, almost 8:00.

Rolling over in bed, he looked up at the beauty
hovering anxiously over him...and melted into a
puddle. "All right, luv...what would you like?" He
moved one hand up her back and drew her down,
wanting a quick taste of her before he left the
warmth of their bed.

In his opinion, she was getting more beautiful every
day. Her hair was thick and shiny, and wonderfully
soft, and her skin glowed with good health. Every time
he looked at her, he thanked whatever lucky star he
had been standing under when she'd come into his
life.

Her lips were warm and sweet, and he kissed
them lingeringly. When he finally pulled away,
she smiled and said, "That was yummy, but I'm
still hungry, Daddy."

He grinned. God, he loved the sound of that
word. It was going to feel like forever before he
heard it from his child, but it was awfully cute
when Buffy used it.

"Yes, I know," he said. "What do you want to
eat?"

She shrugged. "I don't care. I'm not feeling
picky this morning."

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Spike dressed,
kissed her once more, then went downstairs to
the kitchen.

Dawn was sitting at the table, eating a bowl of
cereal.

"Why aren't you in school?" he asked. "What are
we sending you to University for, anyway?"

"My morning psych lecture was cancelled. I
don't need to be there until one o'clock." She
rinsed out her bowl as she watched him assemble
the ingredients for breakfast. "Want some help?"

Spike nodded. "Yes."

Fifteen minutes later, he nudged open the bedroom
door with the tray he was carrying. "Breakfast," he
announced cheerfully, "is...."

Buffy whipped her head around and glared at
him with murderous eyes.

"...served?" he finished weakly.

"What is it?" she asked, still glaring. "It smells funny."

Spike set the tray down on the end of the bed,
eyeing her warily. "Something wrong, Slayer?"

"Don't call me that!" she snapped. "Quit defining me
by my job title." She sat up and pointed an accusing
finger at him. "I don't go around calling you "Vampire,"
do I?"

"What?" He was genuinely surprised. The word "Slayer"
had become a term of endearment between them, and
Buffy had never complained about it before.

She ignored him, staring at the breakfast tray. "I
hate poached eggs," she announced.

"Since when?"

"Since right now! They look...icky."

"All right," he said agreeably, "No icky poached
eggs. How about...?"

She cut him off. "That bacon is greasy."

"No, it isn't, honey." He picked up a piece and
offered it to her. "See. Nice and crispy."

"Well, then YOU eat it!"

Keeping the words, "She's pregnant, be gentle" tacked
to the forefront of his mind, he smiled. "How about
some toast, then? It's got your favorite cherry jam on
it."

Buffy looked at the bread as though it was covered
in green mold instead of jam. "That's white bread,"
she complained. "You know I like wheat bread."

Patience...patience...

"The strawberries? You love strawberries." He felt
himself on firmer ground with this one. She couldn't
very well gripe about them being the wrong kind or
overcooked, or icky.

"They aren't ripe!" she stated. "No way are those
things ripe enough to eat." She folded her arms
across her chest. "I don't want them."

Patience was beginning to fray along all it's
seams.

"All right," he sighed. "How about the tea?"

**Let me guess...too hot?"**

Buffy took a tiny sip. "It's cold."

**My mistake**

This was becoming weirdly fascinating.

"Just drink the orange juice, honey. It's good
for you...full of vitamins."

**Balls in your court, baby**

He was surprised when she picked up the glass
and drained it.

"There!" She smacked the glass back down on
the tray. "Satisfied?"

Spike tried to ignore her nasty tone. "Do you want
something else? Does anything sound good?"

"Nothing that YOU can bring me," she said. "Just
take this...this mess back to the kitchen."

"Buffy..you have to eat something."

She nailed him with angry eyes. "If you don't get that
tray away from me, I'm gonna barf all over you. Is
THAT what you want?"

"No, honey," he sighed. "That's not what I want. I
just want you to..."

"You want me to what?" she asked, her voice
tinged with sarcasm. "Tell me...what is it that you
want ME to do for YOU?"

He mentally threw in the towel. "Nothing. Not a
bloody thing." He stood up and reached for the tray.

"Maybe...I could eat the toast," she said grudgingly,
picking up a piece and biting into it. "It's not..too bad,
I guess."

Spike felt like he'd just navigated a mine field without
having one blow up in his face. "Tell me if you want
more."

Buffy shrugged. "I might," she muttered ungraciously.

He sat down on the end of the bed and smiled at her as
he watched her eat.

She looked up and caught him. "What? Why are you
staring at me?"

"I'm not staring at you," he said. "I'm smiling at you."

"Why? What's so funny about me?" Her voice was
petulant.

"There's nothing funny, honey. I just enjoy looking
at you." He brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. "You're
very pretty, ya know?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah..I'm just gorgeous,"
she sneered. "I'm pale..I'm fat..my hair looks awful..."

She recited an entire catalog of self perceived flaws.

"...I have dark circles under my eyes..I can't get my
feet into my shoes..and I have three broken finger-
nails. I'm Miss America."

Spike hesitated. This was dangerous territory. Years
of experience had taught him to recognize a no-win
situation when he saw one, and there was a big one
coming straight at him.

He couldn't disagree with her, because she'd accuse
him of patronizing her. But, if he was sympathetic
and told her that she wouldn't look this way forever..she'd
throw something at him, and she had a hell of a pitch-
ing arm.

She stared at him, waiting for his reaction to her
litany of self-abuse.

He opened his mouth...and completely lost his
nerve.

"Listen, sweetheart," he said, reaching for the break-
fast tray. "I told Dawn that I'd clean up the kitchen..since
she made your breakfast and all."

He stood up and edged towards the door. "Do you need
anything, Slay...sweetie?" he asked, then watched
helplessly as her eyes welled up with tears.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice trembling. "Go ahead and
go."

Two diamond tear drops traced down her cheeks.

Spike couldn't stand it. Though he could take nearly
everything that Buffy threw at him, field every foul
ball she pitched...he absolutely could not handle tears.

"Sweetheart..?" he began, only to be brutally rebuffed.

"I said GO! By all means..don't keep the dishes wait-
ing! Don't you worry about me, cause I'm just FINE!"

He had NEVER seen a mood swing so fast.

"Why are you still here?" she demanded, her
voice beginning to ride up the scale. "I don't WANT
you here! Go and wash the goddamn DISHES!"

"Buffy...calm down. This isn't good for you or the..."

"I'M CALM" she screamed. "I'M TOTALLY FINE! SO
GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!"

Struggling for patience, Spike set the tray down
and reached for her hand.

Buffy flung her head up, eyeing him like a target
in the crosshairs. "ARE YOU DEAF OR SOME-
THING?" She slapped his hand away. "GO AWAY!"

Enough was clearly enough.

"Buffy! Stop that screaming!" He grabbed her hand,
keeping it firmly in his. "Don't make me leave, honey," he
said, kissing her fingers. "I want to be here with you."

She stared at him, doubtfully. "You do? Really?"

"Of course I do," he smiled. "Really!"

"You.." She sniffled. "You don't want to go?"

**Christ, yes...I want to go** "No, I don't want to go."

And, as simply as that, the sunshine appeared as Buffy
gave him her prettiest smile. "Okay then...as long as
you're sure."

"I'm sure." **Buffy? Are you in there somewhere?**

She pulled on his hand, until he was on the bed
beside her. "I'm sorry I was grumpy," she said,
cuddling up like a kitten.

"Don't worry about it, luv," he made himself say. "You're
entitled."

Her fingers played with his hair. "No, I'm not," she shook
her head. "You brought me a nice breakfast and I acted
like a big, fat witch." She lifted her face and kissed his
cheek. "Forgive?" she asked sweetly.

He smiled down at her. "Forgive," he confirmed. **At
least the mood swings are over**

"Spike?" she whispered, nipping at his ear. "Let's
make love."

**....or not!**

Her hand began to move down his body, and he
grabbed them before they could get too far. "Buffy..."

"Come on, baby," she begged, licking his jaw. "Do it
to me...right now."

"D-Dawn's downstairs," he stammered.

"I'll be quiet." She began kissing a path down his
neck.

"Yeah.." he said weakly. "But..."

Buffy tugged on his belt buckle. "Don't you want me?"

"Of...of course I do. It's just...."

"Just what?" she breathed in his ear, her hand
brushing his crotch.

**Well....why not?**

Lifting his hips, he shoved his pants down and helped
her straddle him.

She lifted her nightgown and slowly lowered herself
onto his erection. Placing his hands on her waist, he
guided her movements.

She rode him at a steady, lazy pace..until the pressure
began to build. The escalation of her breathing and the
tightness of her lower body was driving him crazy.

Raising his hands, he pulled her gown open, then
cupped the heavy curves of her breasts, squeezing
them firmly and tugging on her enlarged nipples.

Her head dropped back as she placed her own
hands over his. "Oh, yes..." she moaned. "That's so
good, baby...so good."

He began to thrust up into her a little harder and
faster, almost bouncing her on his hips. "You like that,
pussycat?" he asked, moving one hand down to
play with her clit. "What about that, baby? Feel good?"

"Feels real good," she panted. "More...."

He closed his eyes, grinding his head down into
the pillow. "God, you're tight," he grunted. "So damn
wet...so hot...fuck me, honey...come on...make it
tighter...just...oh, yeah...like that, baby...."

"I'm...I'm gonna come," she whimpered, squeezing
her eyes shut tight. "You're making me come...now...
yes...now!"

"Do it, baby!" he ordered her harshly. "Come all over
me..give me that cream...unh...yeah..."

It was all she needed to send her over the edge
and she took him right along with her, grinding
herself down on his hard length, her hips jerking
back and forth.

Every bit of her strength left her, and she collapsed
into his arms, allowing him to ease her onto her
side to keep pressure off her swollen tummy.

"Oh, gosh.." she panted in his ear. "That was...in-
credible..."

"Mm-hmm," he agreed, covering her face with
kisses. "I love you."

"Love you, too...thank you, baby."

They stayed that way for a while, until Spike
disentangled himself from her embrace and climbed
out of bed.

With his back to her, he adjusted his clothes and
buckled his belt. Turning around to face her, he
smiled. "Are you...."

His voice trailed off at the expression on her face.

"This is so gross," she snapped. "The bed's all wet..and
it's cold, too," she added, giving him an angry scowl. "You
don't expect me to sleep in this mess, do you?"

If she'd had a stake handy...Spike was certain she
would have used it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


TBC.....
Feedback is appreciated.





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