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Chapter Seven

"So it would be totally wrong for me to follow you huh?" Buffy asked as she watched Spike gather papers into the briefcase she bought him for work. She gazed admiringly at him, thinking how yummy he looked in pressed khaki's and a crisp blue button down. She'd taken him nearly kicking and screaming shopping for new clothes. Now she was rethinking the idea seeing how scrumptious he looked. Images of her being the naughty student and him the heavy handed professor started dancing through her mind. She shook her head. Now was not the time for horny Buffy to make an appearance.

He looked over his shoulder, "well, not wrong but—"

"It'd be too mother sitting in on class on the first day of school."

"Future reference? Images of you as my mother doesn't get me hot."

She giggled, "Duly noted."

"All right. I'm all set. Kiss for good luck?"

"Like you have to ask," she stood from her place on the couch and made
her way over to him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him
sweetly. Then she started straightening his collar. "You look so handsome."

"Thanks pet," he said huskily, watching her.

"I'm very proud of you. You're going to do great. I remember when I was
in college and taking British lit. I got 4.0's under your tutelage."

He smiled. "Should I imagine a class full of you?"

Her smile faded and she poked him in the chest. "Definitely not, mister."

He chuckled, "love it when you get territorial."

She rolled her eyes and pulled out of his arms. "So, you'll be home after
class then?"

"After I do a quick sweep."

She bit her tongue. She should accept it was a losing battle. She'd be lying if
she said she didn't miss it. She wanted to be out there again, but she
couldn't.

"What's with the frown lines?" he asked, caressing her brow.

Turning away from him, she grabbed his briefcase. "You have to go."

He knit his eyebrows together for a minute and took the proffered
briefcase. "What will you do while I'm gone?"

Bake cookies? Put on a dress and heels and vacuum? "Probably visit my
mom."

"Would you like me to go to your moms after?"

She cocked her head to the side, "is that so you can escort me home."

He had the decency to look sheepish.

"That's fine," she sighed, "I'm sure my mom would want to see you
anyway."

Spike pecked her nose, "keep your cell phone on you kitten, just in case."

"Yes dad."

He stopped and turned to her. "Future reference? Images of me as your
‘daddy' might get me hot."

She burst out laughing and shooed him toward the door. "Go to work ya
big perv."

Laughing, Spike walked out of the apartment. Buffy ran to the window and
opened it. "I love you! Good luck!" she shouted down to him.

He looked up at her and beamed. "Love you too!" he called.

Buffy watched him go, feeling unsettled about this for some reason. Was it
jealousy? The fact was she'd been trying to beat that feeling down and
squash it like a bug. Spike deserved this. It made him feel good about
himself; like he was doing something to support her and the baby. Which,
he was. But. . . she wanted to do something too. Was it selfish of her to feel
that perhaps her entire life was on hold now that she was pregnant? She
couldn't slay now and she had no clue what she wanted to do with herself.

"I need my mommy," she murmured. It was funny that no matter how old
she was, or the fact that she was going to be a mom herself, she still needed her mom.



There really was nothing like coming home. She loved her home with Spike and the life they had together, but there was something about visiting her mom that made her feel like a kid all over again.

"Mom?" she called out as she entered the apartment.

"Buffy?"

"Yep, it's me. Where are you?"

"In the study, just doing some bills. Hold on, I'll be right out."

"Okay!" Immediately, Buffy sent to the task of getting cookies and milk.
Settling down, she tucked into the chocolate chip cookies, dunking them in
her milk before letting the cookie crumble effortlessly in her mouth.

"Still my little girl," Joyce said affectionately as she came into the kitchen.
"How do you feel?"

"Good. How are you?"

"Fine, thank you," Joyce looked at her daughter critically. "Buffy, that
shirts looking a little snug."

"I don't have any maternity clothes yet," Buffy explained, mouthful of
cookie. She swallowed. "I took Spike shopping a few days ago and that was
a trip and a half. I figured I'd be pushing my luck if I asked him to help me
find maternity clothes."

Joyce smiled brightly and stood. "Let's go then."

"Huh?"

"Let's go shopping. Let me buy you some things."

"Really?"

"Yup. Come on honey, finish that cookie and let's go."

Buffy smiled sappily, "Okay mommy."



"Buffy, there has to be something you're interested in doing," Joyce said as
she watched Buffy devour her ice cream.

"I don't know and it's not like I can go out there and just find something.
No place is going to want to take a pregnant woman."

"You could lie . . ."

"Mom! I'm stunned," Buffy grinned. "Not like I can like waltzing around in
maternity clothes. I think they'd know." She sighed heavily and put her
spoon down. "Spike must think I'm a loser."

"Now I'm stunned! Buffy, where would you EVER get that idea? The man
thinks you hung the moon." She leaned forward. "Did he say something to
you?"

"No, of course not. I just. . . The whole reason Spike ever came into my life
in the first place was because I needed someone to ‘protect' me and teach
me how to slay and basically be my guide. Now I'm pregnant and . . .
useless. I can't slay, I can't do anything. I tried being Suzy Homemaker and
it's just not me. Once upon a time I thought that the only reason Spike
loved me was because I had super powers. I still have them, but now I can't
use them. What if he gets bored with me? What if I can't slay again? Then
what?"

Joyce reached across the table and took Buffy's hands in her own. "Buffy,
you are a bright girl and Spike is NOT with you because of your powers.
Yes, you are his match in that way, but that is not what makes a
relationship work. Especially not when two people such as yourself and
Spike get together. I have watched you two over the years, seen firsthand what you didn't see for so long. From day one it was as if you had your own language with each other. You both know what the other is thinking before one of you can even voice it. Both of you are so in sync with each other and I've seen the looks you two exchange when you think no one is looking. Buffy, Spike is your best friend. He always has been. He was always the one you wanted to run to when something went wrong and I know that Spike wouldn't have wanted it any other way. He still wouldn't.
Remember when you went away for that year?"

"Do I ever. How could I forget? He pitched a nutty when I came back."

"Buffy, just as he's your best friend, you're his. He was miserable when you left. He used to visit me five out of the seven days of the week. And when we would talk, most of the time he talked about you. If I left the room, I'd come back to find him gazing at a picture of you." Joyce sat back, pursing your lips together. "I don't know if I should tell you this . . . "

"Well, when you start like that, now you have to," Buffy told her.

"I tried setting him up."

"Mom!"

"I guess I had to see . . . That is, he had never said the words, so I knew but I'm like you . . . I need proof of something and often need to be hit over the head with a sledgehammer. So, I introduced him to a friend one night. Someone I knew in passing really, but someone that would make no bones about showing an interest in Spike."

"What happened?" Buffy asked, her jealousy flaring.

"He ran. I'd never seen him make such a hasty exit. When I asked him, in all seriousness later on what the problem was, he said ‘Joyce, don't you know? I love your daughter. I'll wait for her. Forever if I have to.'" Joyce took a deep breath. "We never spoke of it after that. Then you came home shortly after."

"Things like that change though, don't they? It's why there's such a thing as divorce," Buffy replied, sitting back.

"Honey, I've been there and I've seen it happen to other couples and no one has ever had the spark that you and Spike have. The least of your worries should be thinking Spike will ever get tired of you. It simply won't happen. And I'm sure if you tell him what you're feeling, he'll put your mind at ease."

"No. I know it deep down, I just, I feel insecure with myself. I shouldn't have to run for reassurance every time I'm feeling a quart low on my self esteem."

"Husbands and wives lean on each other when they need it most.
Remember: For Better or Worse, In Sickness and In Health," Joyce pointed
out firmly.

"Yeah, and my current status is hormonal. I need to be better at
deciphering a legitimate worry from a hormonal worry." And with
everything going on lately, Buffy thought to herself, the last thing I should
worry about is Spike ever leaving me. He wouldn't.



"Buffy."

"Mmm.."

"Buffy, wake up luv. Time to go home."

Buffy's eyes shot open and her gaze fell on Spike, sitting next to her as she
lay on the couch. He was stroking her hair and gazing at her tenderly.
Immediately, she reached up her arms and drew him down to her. "How'd
it go?" she asked sleepily.

"Excellent. Sorry I took so long."

"Lots of baddies?"

"A few, yeah."

"Tell me about your class."

"How about we go home and you get some rest? I'll tell you all about it
tomorrow."

"No…" she moaned, her eyelids feeling so heavy. "Now."

"Ssshhh…" he swooped her up in his arms and she wrapped her tired limbs around his neck.

She looked up at him. "Spike."

"Yeah, luv?"

"I'm sorry for when I left you that time."

"Kitten, that was a long time ago and it's all over now."

"Still. I was lucky."

"For?"

"For some other girl not coming along and taking you away from me."


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