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Chapter Four

By the time Buffy reached home, she was exhausted. She knew however, that she had to speak with Spike. She just didn't know if she should do it before or after a nap.

"Baby, you look wiped," he told her as she curled up next to him as he
fiddled on the computer. "How'd it go?"

"It was all right. Willow seemed nice enough. Very uh, forthcoming with
information."

"Such as?" he asked and leaned back on the couch with her, placing her in
his lap and stroking her hair as she spoke.

Buffy relayed her visit at Giles', skimming over the parts where she had
spoken to Giles about her dream.

"See? Told you he loved you."

"I know," she sighed and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You know what? I
love you."

Spike put his hand under her chin and kissed her softly.

"What were you doing while I was gone?" Buffy asked gesturing to the
computer.

"That's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?" she tried to keep the dread in her voice down to a minimum. It was
silly really, but with all the changes that had been going on recently, she
wasn't sure if she could handle another one. She wasn't very often the ‘roll
with the punches' sort of girl. One would think she would have to be with
what she was and what she did, but change was something she never did
well.

Spike pinched the end of her nose lightly. "It's nothing to worry about it. I
can feel the tension in you. Relax Buffy, what I have to tell you is a good
thing. At least I think it is."

"Just tell me already!" she burst out.

"I've applied for a job at Boston College and I got accepted. I'm going to
teach British Literature at night."

Now it was Spike bracing himself and filling with tension.

Buffy looked up at him and smiled, "I think that sounds great Spike! Why
didn't you tell me sooner?" Like you have room to talk, she chided herself.

"I didn't want to say anything in case I didn't get it. You know how it is,
not wanting to curse your luck."

"Don't you have to have a teaching degree and all that?"

"Well, most often, yes."

"You fudged some documents didn't you?"

"Little bit. Helped that I told them I studied at Oxford."

"Which you did."

"Exactly."

"In the Victorian era," she giggled.

"Ah well."

"On the off chance that you wouldn't have gotten it, would you have told
me then?"

"Depends on how embarrassed I was about it," he told her sheepishly.

"Well, I'm just thinking that if they were stupid enough not to hire my
brilliant husband, then I'd have to go down there and put the smack down on them."

Spike laughed and nuzzled her neck. "So good to me, you are."

She wrinkled her nose. "Not always."

He brought her face up to his. "All in the past." Resting his hand on her
stomach, he rubbed circles on it gently. It rumbled back at him. "Hungry
kitten?"

She nodded, "I think so. Do we have any buffalo wings?"

"I think so, if not I'll order out for some. You're looking knackered luv,
why don't you lie down for a bit while I make the food."

"Okay."

Making her way to the bedroom, Buffy sat down lied down and stared up
at the ceiling. So, Spike had found his nitch. Now she just had to find hers.



Buffy woke up starving. Apparently she'd fallen asleep for a while because
the room was now engulfed in darkness. The scent of Buffalo Wings
lingered in the air along with . . . fries!

"Spike?" she called out as she made her way into the kitchen. No answer.
"Spike?" she called again.

Just then the door burst open and a scraggly looking Spike came through.
His clothes a bit torn and blood seeping from a cut on his forehead. Buffy
flew into autopilot, grabbing the first aid kit. "Spike, what happened?"

"Got into a little rough and tumble. Quite a few baddies out there tonight,"
he sighed, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it.

Buffy grabbed it, "sit down. I'll get it all for you."

"Buffy, I can take care of a wound or two."

"Please? You take care of me all the time. Let me take care of you."

Settling down in a chair, he watched her as she tended to his cuts and
scrapes. Her fears were bubbling to the surface.

"Spike, I don't think you should do this anymore," she told him as she
applied some antiseptic.

"Buffy," he started on a sigh.

"Spike, I don't want our baby to not have a father."

"Buffy, it's going to take more than a few vamps to take me down. It's not
like they come armed ya know?"

"But one wrong move and—"

"Buffy! Stop. I'm fine. Nothing is going to happen to me. I promise pet, I'm
here to stay."

She watched him as she went to the fridge and to get something to drink.

"Fine, then I want to come with you," she told him.

He set his cup down on the table and faced her with a stern expression.
"No. You're not going out there in your condition."

"I can watch your back, make sure nothing happens. I can be back up. I
won't get involved unless you're in danger. I'll even hide."

"Buffy, I said no."

"Since when are you the boss of me?" she demanded.

"Since you're carrying my child and I don't want to lose either of you!" he shouted at her.

"When did you become so goddamn thickheaded?" she shouted back.

"When you became so goddamn stubborn!"

Going to the fridge, she started taking things out and slamming them down
on the kitchen table. She had to eat now if she was going to keep up this
argument with Spike. Grabbing a cup, she started to gulp it down. Spike
shouting her name stopped her.

"What now?" she asked annoyed.

Startled, Spike grabbed the cup out of her hand. "Buffy. You just drank my
blood."

She looked up at him and then down at the cup three quarters empty. The cup of blood she probably would have finished if Spike hadn't stopped her. The cup of blood she still wanted to finish.

"Oh."


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