Unexpected Blessings
Pattyanne 's Fic
Kings of Mercia
LoobyLoos' Fic
Jen's Fic


Chapter 6:

The Sixth Month

"G'morning, sweetness." Spike stretched and yawned. "Sleep well?"

"Mm..I did." Rolling over in bed, Buffy snuggled up against him kittenishly. "I really did."

He wrapped one arm around her, leaned over and kissed her. "How's my baby doing today?"

Buffy smiled. "Which baby? Me or the fetus?"

"BOTH my babies?"

"We are very well, thank you for asking."

"And are we hungry this morning?" he asked, patting her tummy. The small swelling was firm, with silky soft skin, the result of Spike's gentle hands massaging lotion into it every night after Buffy bathed.

She walked her fingers teasingly up his abdomen to his chest. "Is a bear Catholic?"

Spike laughed. "Funny, aren't you?"

"Does the pope sh...."

"Buffy!" He cut her off before she could complete the question. "Watch your language. Baby can hear you, ya know?"

"Really?" Buffy asked with a smirk. "You mean baby heard all the loud grunting and groaning you did last night?"

"Me?" he asked, feigning shock.

"Well, how about when you yelled, "Oh! Oh, fuck me! I'm gonna come...I'm gonna come...!!"

Spike slapped her lightly on the bottom. "That was you, honey."

"Oh, no it...wait, I...you're right," she giggled. "That WAS me."

He sighed. "Now that we've gone all the way around the mulberry bush," he said, "let's get back to the subject, which WAS...are you hungry?"

Sitting up in bed, Buffy answered, "I'm so hungry I could eat a whole herd of horses."

"I'm sure I can do better than that," Spike said as he climbed out of bed and dressed. When he noticed her starting to get out of bed, too, he urged her back down. "No, you stay here. I'll bring you some breakfast."

"You're too sweet," she informed him, giving him her prettiest smile. "And you're spoiling me."

"Yeah, I know," he agreed. "I'm practicing on you so that I do a good job spoiling the baby rotten."

"Good plan."

He leaned down and kissed her once more. "What would you like to eat, luv?"

Buffy shrugged. "Surprise me," she said, reclining back into the pillows.

Spike was halfway down the stairs when Buffy suddenly screamed. "SPIKE...COME HERE NOW...COME HERE!!"

He turned so fast that he nearly lost his footing, then raced back to the bedroom. If his heart had still been beating, Buffy's screaming would have stopped it cold.

He burst into the room, wild eyed with fear. "What's wrong? What happened?" He fell to his knees beside the bed. "Are..are you in pain? Bleeding?" He looked terrified. "Oh, God...you're not bleeding, are you?"

Buffy was sitting straight up in the bed, her hands cradling the gentle curve of her belly, smiling like an angel.

Looking at him, her eyes danced with excitement. "It's moving. The baby's moving and...and kind of kicking me." She reached for his hand and placed it on her tummy. "Feel."

"Oh...oh, Christ..." Spike moaned. He fell forward onto the bed, burying his face in the blankets, as relief robbed his body of all it's strength.

"Buffy," he said, his voice muffled by the bedding. "Sweetheart...please don't ever...EVER...I'm begging you...scream like that unless something is....th-the baby moved? Really?"

"Uh-huh," Buffy squealed, moving his hand. "Right there...just keep your...Oh!...did you feel it?"

"I did," he said, his eyes wide with wonder and an ear to ear grin on his face. "Does it hurt?"

"No," she shook her head. "It feels kind of..fluttery. Hard to describe. Sort of like a little..." She looked up and caught him staring at her intently. "What?"

"I just...I just love you," he said softly, taking her hand and kissing it. "And in case I haven't told you this lately..you're the most beautiful pregnant..."

"Cow," she slipped in, grinning.

"Woman..in the entire world."

Buffy sighed. "Getting turned on by fatties these days, honey?"

"Stop that!" he ordered her. "You're not fat...you're pregnant."

"Pregnant?" she gasped, looking horrified. "How'd THAT happen?"

Spike stood up. "All right, funny girl, that's enough. I'll get your breakfast."

Buffy stopped him when he was almost out the door.

"Hey, if you find out who did this to me, couldja let me know? The least the cad can do is...marry me."

He turned slowly to face her. "Marry you? You want me to marry you?"

She pointed at her tummy. "Are you responsible for this?"

He hung his head, trying to look ashamed. "Guilty."

"Well, then?" When he didn't answer right away, she stuck out her lower lip and pouted. "Don't you WANT to marry me?"

He still didn't answer. Instead, he opened the closet door and took something out of the pocket of his coat. Returning to the bed, he sat down next to her and opened his hand in front of her face, revealing a small black velvet bag, tied with a drawstring of black satin ribbon.

Buffy's eyed widened. "Is that for me?"


"What is it?"

Spike smiled and shrugged. "Don't know. Why don't you look and see."

She took the bag and untied the ribbon. Holding out her palm, she emptied the tiny bag of it's treasure.

"Ohhh," she said, trying hard not to look disappointed as she stared down at a pair of tiny gold hoop earrings. "How pretty...thank you."

Looking back up at him, she caught him trying not to laugh.

"Don't tease me," she scolded him.

"Sorry," he replied, then opened his other hand to display a ring, a gold band with a square emerald, bordered on both sides by a row of small channel set diamonds.

Buffy was speechless.

"If you don't like it..." he began.

"Are you crazy?" she interrupted. "It's perfect...I love it!"

Spike grinned at her. "I know these things are usually diamonds...but I fancy you in emeralds. Brings out the green in your eyes."

Taking her hand, he reached for the ring and began to slide it onto her finger, then glanced up in surprise when she suddenly closed her fist.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"Uh..well. I THINK that I'm putting a ring on your finger," he said. "What do YOU think I'm doing?"

Buffy sat back, folding her arms across her chest. "Don't you have something to ask me first?"

He looked dumbfounded. "You mean I have to ASK?"

She nodded vehemently. "Damn right you do."

"But...but you're pregnant," he told her, as though it was a big surprise to her. "With MY baby!"

"So what?" she said. "You think that means you can just take me for granted? THIS is the 21st century, you know. Women have choices. You can't just assume."

"I thought I could!" he said.

"Well, now you know better," she replied. "This is my first marriage proposal, so...do it right!"

Spike sighed and knelt beside the bed, holding her hand in his. "Buffy....


He shrugged. "You gonna marry me, or what?"

She sat there for a moment, staring at him. "Wow...you sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet," she said, pulling her hand back.

He chuckled. "Gonna answer the question, then?"

"I'm not even sure what the question was," she grumbled.

Spike repeated it. "Are YOU..gonna marry ME..or NOT?"

Buffy turned her face away. "Might...might NOT!"

He growled and pounced on her, tickling and nuzzling her. "All right, all right!" she shrieked. "I'll do it...quit it!" She held out her hand to him. "Gimme!"

He slipped the ring onto the appropriate finger.

"So, you'll marry me?" he asked, smirking.

"How can I NOT after that romantic proposal?" she asked sarcastically.

"Good!" He stood up. "Glad it's settled."

Without taking her eyes off her ring, Buffy asked, "Breakfast?"




Chapter 7:

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 starting 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."


"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 fingernails. 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 pitching 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 breakfast 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 waiting! 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..."


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 SOMETHING?" 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...incredible..."

"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.


Chapter 8:


The Eighth Month


Spike could hear the sound of the kitchen cupboards being yanked open and banged shut as he walked downstairs.

Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the doorjamb and watched Buffy ransack the pantry, muttering under her breath.

Grinning, he said, "If you'll tell me what you're looking for, maybe I can help you find it."

"That's just it," she replied, blowing her bangs out of her eyes as she reached into the back of a cupboard. "You can't help me find it...cause it's not here."

"What's not here?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said, pulling her hand back.

Spike joined her in front of the open pantry door. "Well...if you don't know, then how do you know it's not here?"

"Because if it was here," she explained patiently, "then I would see it."

"See what?"

"See what I'm looking for."

Leaning over, he peered into the cupboard with her. "But if you don't know what it is, how do you know it's not right here in front of you?"

Buffy sighed. "Because..if it was right in front of me..I would see it, because it would be here."

"What would be here?" He was about to start laughing, he just knew it.

"The thing that I want."

He decided to try another approach. "Well, if it WAS here...what would it look like?"

"Like the thing I want."

"Which is what?"

"I already told you...I don't know."

She turned on him, hands on her hips, fully expecting him to understand and endorse her convoluted logic.

So, he tried. "Okay...you want something, but you're not sure what it is. You'd know it if you saw it, but since you don't see it, then you don't know exactly what it IS that you don't see...even though it's what you want."

Buffy stared up at him. "I have NO idea what you just said."

He chuckled. "Neither do I, honey."

"Arrgghh" she growled, closing the pantry door. "There's nothing to eat in this house."

"What are you talking about?" he asked in disbelief. "Dawn was at the market for over an hour this morning. This place is packed with food."

"I know," she said agreeably. "But there's nothing that I want."

"Well, what do you...oh, no you don't" He backed away. "No fair dragging me into THAT again!"

"Dragging you into WHAT again?"

"That game of verbal volleyball that you enjoy torturing me with."

Buffy just smiled. "Be nice to me."

"I'm ALWAYS nice to you," Spike protested. "You're the one who's mean to me!"

Dragging out a chair from the dinette, she flopped down onto it and stared at the table. "I know...I'm sorry."

He looked at her suspiciously. "You're not gonna cry, are you?"




She looked so sincerely miserable that he couldn't bear it. With a sigh, he picked her up from the chair and sat back down with her in his lap.

"Oh, don't," she complained. "I weigh a ton."

"You do not," he denied, nuzzling her hair. "What's the matter, baby?"

Buffy looked at him and made a face. "I want chocolate!"

Spike was surprised. "Dawn didn't get anything chocolate?" She shook her head.

Now, he was really shocked. The two women he shared this house with had an absolute passion for chocolate. It was as essential to them as blood was to him.

"Why would Dawn do all that shopping and not buy..."

She interrupted him. "I..sort of told her not to."

"YOU...told her not to?" Would wonders never cease?

"Wellll," she whined. "I thought I was eating too much of it."

"Baby," he said, stroking her hair. "The doc said your weight was fine. He told you to go ahead and give in to your cravings."

"I know...but...he didn't really know how much of it I was eating." Sitting up straight in his lap, she gazed into his eyes to make sure he understood. "Spike...I was eating chocolate breakfast cereal."

"Well, that's not so...."

"With chocolate milk poured on it!"


Buffy hid her face against his shoulder. "I'm a chocolate junkie," she moaned.

His arms tightened around her. "No, you're not," he said soothingly.

"Yes, I am!" she insisted. "You don't know how badly I want it. It's like...like heroin!"

Spike laughed. "I don't think it'll have exactly the same effect, honey." He kissed the top of her head. "Listen..it's hard to stop doing something, or eating something that you love. Just quitting flat out and all."

"YOU did it!"

"But I had some negative reinforcement, if you remember correctly. It really won't be good for you to have a blinding migraine every time you eat a piece of candy."

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "But you quit smoking too."

He nodded. "Yeah, but I did that for you and the baby. It can't hurt me, but I'm not taking any chances with the two of you."

Buffy leaned her head on his shoulder. "You're so sweet to me," she murmured.

"Because I love you."

"A lot?"

"Mm-hmm...more than anything."

"Enough to do something for me?" She placed a line of kisses down the side of his face.

<Uh-huh....here it comes...>

"Sure. What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Well," she said, playing with his shirt buttons. "The sun's down."


"I thought...maybe you would...go to the store for me?"

Spike pulled back a little and looked at her. "For what?"

Buffy sighed in exasperation. "For what do you think?"

Wrapping his arms loosely around her waist, he kissed her and said, "I thought you wanted to cut down on chocolate."

She shrugged. "I changed my mind."

Spike hid his grin against the side of her neck. "Honey," he said sincerely, "I wouldn't feel right about it if I didn't try to help you overcome this prob...OW!"

He rubbed his ear as she waved her small fist under his nose. "Next time you're really gonna yell," she warned him pleasantly.

"You know, that's not a nice way to treat someone when you want them to do something for you."

"Nice?" she squealed. "Is it nice to treat ME this way? Nice to tease your sweet little bride, who YOU knocked up higher than a box kite?"

"Sweet?" he muttered under his breath as he dislodged her from his lap and stood up. "She calls it sweet! I haven't seen anything sweet since before..."

"What was that?" she demanded.

"Nothing, baby...nothing important," he said as he walked out of the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" she asked, trotting after him.

"To get the keys and..." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "...go to the bloody store."

She graced him with a huge smile. "Thank you, honey."

"You're.." He frowned as she thrust a piece of paper under his nose. "..welcome. What's that?"

"A list" she said brightly, nudging him towards the stairs.

When he came back down, she was waiting for him by the door, holding his jacket.

He leaned over to kiss her, and she returned the kiss, but placed her hands on his waist and began walking him backwards out the front door."

"Bye, sweetie," she said cheerfully. "Drive carefully...but hurry home, okay?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'll just..." She closed the door. "..do that."


The market was almost empty, making his chore a lot easier.

As the cashier ran the items over the scanner, she shook her head in amazement. "Boy...someone has a serious love affair going with chocolate."

Spike shrugged. "My wife is..."



The woman laughed. "I know how she feels. With me..it was meat. Rare meat..bloody. By the time I delivered, I was almost eating it raw."

Spike was intrigued. This was a craving he could get behind! "That's entirely understandable."

She shook her head. "My husband didn't think so," she said. "I drove him nuts serving undercooked meat. He was afraid we were both going to die of botulism or something."

"That's an old wives tale," Spike scoffed. "Little blood never hurt anybody."

The cashier handed him his change and the grocery bags. "Good luck!"

"Thanks, pet."

Halfway home, he decided to make a quick stop at Willy's.

The place was fairly crowded, forcing him to roughly nudge a few demons out of his way.

"What'll it be?" the bartender growled.

Spike glanced around. "You new here?"

"Yeah. What do you want?"

Turning his head briefly, Spike let his demon loose and looked back at the man. "Take a wild guess."

Without a word, the bartender reached under the bar and brought out a tall glass, filling it from a blood bag. Pushing the glass across the bar, he asked, "You want it straight..or should I make it interesting?"

Spike briefly considered the offer, then decided against it. It woldn't be a good idea to show up at home smelling of alcohol. Buffy was a fairly patient girl these days, but he didn't want to give her a reason to yell at him.

He saw a gold glitter out of the corner of his eye and looked down to watch the light reflect off his wedding ring. Tilting his hand, he watched the sparkle come and go.

Spike smiled, remembering every moment of the day she had given him this ring. She had looked so pretty, she had absolutely knocked him out.


Buffy and Dawn had spent a lot of time planning the "perfect wedding," even after he had told her that no wedding could possibly be perfect, and she shouldn't expect it to be.

It hadn't worked. She had been up at sunrise, dragging Dawn out of bed and down to the back yard to start decorating.

He had spent most of the previous night stringing tiny, clear Christmas tree lights through all of the trees and bushes, so Buffy had given him the day off, assuring him that all he needed to do was shower, dress, and present himself at the proper time and place.

Waking at about four o'clock in the afternoon, he had glanced out the window and watched with a grin as Buffy bossed everyone around with the authority of a traffic cop.

"Don't worry about where the chairs will go...We'll decide when they get here...Did you find the tablecloths?...Look in the bottom drawer of the china cabinet...Where's Willow?...Go find her...XANDER!...Don't put the arch there!...Of course I didn't tell you I wanted it there!...I want it in front of the rose bushes...Then PUT it there...please!...What time is it?...Are you kidding??"

The doorbell had rung, and he had gone downstairs to answer it. He directed the delivery men to the back yard, instructing them to speak to the bride about where she wanted the chairs, explaining that they would have no trouble identifying her...just look for the small, pretty blond behaving like a cross between Hitler and a professional football coach.

Back upstairs, he'd returned to his vantage point by the window to watch the show.

"Xander...move the arch over there...Because I've changed my mind...Never mind why...Willow?...The flowers are here...You have to see these, they're my favorite...HEY!...Come back here...These roses are red!...Well, I ordered white roses...Yes, I'm sure!...If I'd ordered red roses, then I wouldn't be complaining about GETTING red roses, would I?...Yes, that's exactly what I want you to do...And move fast...Run red lights...Shoo!...What do you want now, Xander?...I am perfectly calm!"

Spike had chuckled softly, shaking his head as he went to shower and change. After the sun went down, he presented himself for inspection.

After checking him over from top to bottom, Buffy had smiled and kissed him, whispering in his ear that he looked delicious in the black silk shirt and suede pants she'd bought, and that she couldn't wait for their wedding "night."

Rewarding him with another kiss, she had called her posse into the house with her to help her dress.

An hour later, everything was in place, and the ceremony began.

One of his clearest and best memories was the moment he had turned to see his bride.

How she could be more beautiful than she already was, he couldn't fathom.

She wore a cream colored dress, with a velvet bodice and a satin skirt that fell to the floor from beneath a high waistline designed to accomodate her pregnancy.

The sleeves of the gown were velvet as well, snug all the way to her wrists, then ending in a froth of creamy lace that cascaded over her hands.

A circlet of white rosebuds nestled in her honey colored curls.

When she'd reached his side, he'd stared at her, almost hypnotized by her beauty. He had taken her hand and turned it over, then lifted it to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss into her palm, never breaking eye contact with her.

"You look like an absolute angel," he'd murmured. "Will you marry me?"

She had smiled. "Yes, I'll marry you."

They had exchanged their vows in front of a Wiccan priestess that Willow knew, although Buffy had requested a more traditional love, honor, and cherish form of the ceremony.

The actual wedding hadn't taken long, but the party afterwards had gone on for almost six hours. The night air had been warm, and the entire yard glittered and sparkled with lights and laughter and music.

The last ones to leave had been Willow and Tara. Taking Dawn home with them for the night, they had promised to return the next day and clean up the party mess, then disappear for the rest of the weekend.



Chapter 9:


The Eighth Month-part 2


After he locked the front door, he went upstairs and found his bride sitting in front of her vanity, brushing her hair.

She had changed out of her wedding dress and into a nightgown that he couldn't remember seeing before. Black satin and lace, it had thin ribbon straps and it's hem lightly touched the tops of her small feet.

Spike closed the door, leaning back against it.

Turning her head, Buffy smiled at him. "Everyone gone?"

"Yes," he said. "It's just you and me tonight."

He crossed the room and stood behind her. Taking the brush from her hand, he began to move it through her soft tresses.

Buffy sighed with pure pleasure, and closed her eyes.

"You know," he said, continuing the rhythmic strokes of the brush. "They say that all brides are beautiful..." With a smile, he returned the brush to her vanity table. "...but MY bride is definitely the fairest in the land."

Taking her hand, he drew her to her feet and pulled her across the room to the oak armoire. He opened the cabinet door that hid the television and stereo system, then pushed the "ON" button of the CD player.

Soft, slow music began to play as he led her back to the center of the room. After kissing both her hands, he placed her arms around his neck, and wrapped his loosely around her waist.

Bending his head, he buried his face against the warm flesh of her throat. Swaying gently to the rhythm of the music, they danced without saying a word.

Whispering soft words of love into his bride's ear, Spike lifted her into his arms and carried her to their bed, sitting down with her in his lap.

"The most beautiful bride in the world," he said, looking into the endless green depths of her eyes. "My wife," he added, kissing her possessively. "Mine!"

"Yes, baby," she replied, laying one small hand on his cheek. "All yours...forever." She started to kiss him, then pulled back. "Hey! I just thought of something!"

"Well, can't it wait?" he asked, trying to get back to her mouth.

She held him off. "No, I really want to ask you something."

Sighing, he gave in. "Ask me what, baby?"

"What Mrs. am I?"

"What?" He looked at her, confused for a moment, then said, "Oh, I know what you mean. Um..well, technically you're Mrs. Hamilton."

Buffy grinned. "No kidding? You're William Hamilton?"

"That's right..William Thomas Hamilton."

She tried it out. "William Hamilton...Mrs. William Hamilton."

He smiled and pinched her cheek. "That would be YOU, love."

"Any numbers?" she asked.


"You know...the second, the third, the fourteenth? Numbers?"

"Sorry, sweetheart." He shook his head. "No numbers."

"How come?" she asked, tilting her head. "I thought you British types were big on the number thing."

"Not really..unless there's a crown involved."

She giggled. "I guess we can start the numbers...if this baby's a boy."

"Sorry again, love...but this baby is a girl." He stroked the firm curve of her belly.

"How do YOU know?"

"Because that's what I ordered," he explained. "A baby girl...very tiny and delicate..with golden curls and big green eyes, and a voice that'll tame the fiercest dragon in the forest and make it lay it's head in her lap..and there it will stay, happily, for the rest of it's life, doing anything she asks of it."

Buffy smiled tenderly, stroking the back of his neck. "This little girl sounds like she's gonna have a lot of power."

Spike nodded, playing with her hair. "She already does. And...she'll be so beautiful that all the wild things and most dangerous beasts will fall at her feet...and beg her to smile." Cupping her cheek, he turned her head to look into her eyes again. "Just
like her father did with her mother."

She leaned forward and kissed him, then pressed her cheek against his. "You know what I wonder?"

"What's that, love?"

"I wonder where the hell you were hiding this part of you back when you were trying to kill me."

He chuckled. "Baby, I wasn't hiding anything. This part of me didn't exist until I fell in love with you."

Buffy shook her head. "Sure, it did. You just lost track of it for a while."

He turned her in his arms and lowered her down into the pillows. "And then you found it."

"Yep, I did." She slipped her hands around the back of his neck, lacing her fingers together. "I had to dig for it, but I found it."

Her voice suddenly became serious. "You know, we're so lucky. Think about how many times we almost killed each other...how close we came. God...just the littlest thing could have changed everything. We wouldn't be here and I wouldn't be...."

"Mrs. Hamilton?"

His using her married name caught her attention. "That's me," she said with a childlike giggle.

"You need to stop talking now, because there's something I want to do. Actually, it's something I've never done before, and..."

"And what would THAT be?" she inquired.

Spike kissed a path from her cheek to her ear. "Make love to my wife," he said. "It's time to consumate this marriage."

"Oh! Well...don't let ME stop you."

"Sweetheart," he murmured against her lips. "An act of God couldn't stop me."

His mouth moved down her boy, lingering on the tender skin between her breasts. Slipping his fingers under the satin strap of her gown, he rubbed his thumb against the soft material.

"This is very pretty," he said. "Take it off."

"Wait a second," Buffy tried to push his wandering hands away. "I spent a lot of time shopping for the perfect nightgown."

"And you succeeded. It's perfect...but it's also in my way." He doubled his efforts to wrestle the garment off her.

She straightened her arms, holding him away from her with difficulty. "So, I only get to wear it for five minutes?"

"Sorry about that," he replied, sounding anything BUT sorry. "Sudden uncontrollable lust is taking over. Don't fight it."

"Yeah, but you're gonna tear it!"

"I don't care!" He took one of her arms and pinned it to the bed by the wrist. "I'll buy you another one."

Buffy was struggling not to smile. "This was the only one in my size," she informed him. "Extra short and kind of chubby around the middle."

"Oh, baby," he moaned playfully. "You're turning me on." He glanced skyward, his eyes half closed in bliss. "That's the girl of my dreams."

"Yeah, well....you're weird!"

"I am indeed," he nodded, winking at her. "And you love it, don't you, baby?"

Not giving her a chance to reply, he captured her mouth beneath his. Parting her lips with his tongue, he pushed it deeply into her mouth, finding hers and then testing the edges of her small teeth.

Moaning softly, Buffy chased his tongue back into his mouth, following eagerly with hers.

Tearing her mouth away, she panted for air as Spike licked and kissed his way to ear. "I love kissing you," he said. "You kiss like a dream. The way you taste me and suck on my tongue...I feel it all the way down in my dick."

His lips moved down her cheek to her jaw, then skimmed over her throat to the beginning swell of her ample breasts. Impatiently, he yanked down the neckline of her gown until he'd completely exposed the heavy mounds. Cupping the sides of them, he pushed them together and began licking her nipples.

With a cry of pleasure, Buffy arched her back, encouraging him to be a little rougher in his attentions.

He suddenly pulled away, making her whine and whimper irritably. "That feel good?" he teased.

"Feels so good," she moaned.

"Want some more?"

"Yeah...God, baby...please don't stop."

Burying his face between her breasts, he rolled them over on the bed until she was hovering over him.

Bracing herself on her hands and knees, she lowered herself, then began moving her shoulders slightly, rubbing her breasts all over his face.

Whenever she brought them near his mouth, his tongue darted out and flicked rapidly back and forth over her taut nipples.

Taking one breast in each hand, he fondled and squeezed them. Starting at the base, his hands moved up, gripping her firmly and playing with her nipples.

He lingered at this task until he felt his not-so-blushing bride pushing on his shoulders impatiently.

With a soft laugh, he pulled back. "Want me to go down on you, love? Eat your little pussy until you scream?"

"Yes, please," she said, directing him south.

He paused at the curve of her belly, lavishing every inch of it with kisses, and smiling when he felt the baby stirring beneath his touch. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said. "Daddy woke you up, didn't he? Well, I'll try to be more careful, so you go back
to sleep, little girl."

Buffy smiled. "Why bother? You're just gonna wake her up again in a few minutes."

Spike shook his head. "No, I won't. I'll be very gentle, little one. You won't even know I'm there."

"Oh, great," Buffy muttered.

"Relax, love...YOU'LL definitely know I'm there." Moving further down, he eased her thighs apart and began to apply his tongue to the wet cleft of her sex, sliding it up and down.

Buffy yelped, "Oh!...You're there, all right!"

In less than two minutes, he reduced her to a panting little bundle of sexual need. His talented tongue covered every inch of her, kissing and licking, then probing deeply
and fucking her with it.

Without pausing in his attentions, he glanced up, watching her face as he worked over her. Her swollen tummy obscured his view, and he stopped licking her.

Anticipating a loud protest, he inserted one finger inside her, using his thumb to stimulate her clit, then raised his head.

"Lift up a little, baby," he instructed her. "Put a couple of pillows behind you."

"W-why?" Buffy gasped.

Spike grinned at her. "Because I like to watch your face when I do this."

She returned his smile. "And I like watching you do it."

He waited until she found a comfortable position. Meeting her eyes, he lowered his head and licked her from bottom to top, then began to suck on her clit.

Seconds later, he sensed her impending orgasm and released her from his mouth. "Do you want me to make you come this way?" he asked.

Buffy was almost incapable of speech. "No.." she managed to choke out. "I want to come when you do...when you're inside me..."

Her words kicked his own lust even higher. He crawled up her body on his hands and knees. "Inside of you?"


"Which part of me do you want inside of you...making you come?"

"You know which part." Her hands slid up and down his arms, her fingers digging into the muscle of his biceps.

"Say it," he whispered in her ear.

"Spiikkkee," she whined. "Please...."

"Say it!" he demanded again, turning her onto her side and positioning himself behind her. "Say it...or I won't..." He pressed his erection against her soft bottom, then pulled away.

She reached behind her, placing her hand over the large swelling between his legs.

"This!" She squeezed firmly. "Your cock...your dick...your shaft...your gigantic manhood...your reason for living!"

Turning her head, she glared at him. "Now stop teasing me or I'll throw you on your back and damn well help myself!"

Spike had to laugh, rubbing his face against her soft hair. "Baby...this isn't my reason for living," he said, pressing himself against her again. He then sent one hand down to cup her wet pussy. "This is!"

Lifting one of her legs slightly, he pushed himself into the tight warmth where he loved to spend all his time. "Time to play..."Here Comes The Bride" he said, beginning to slide in and out of her.

Buffy braced herself with one hand and pushed back to meet his thrusts, biting her lower lip.

"Don't do that," he ordered her, sucking on her earlobe, laving it with his tongue. "I'm the only one who gets to bite any part of you."

"Spike..." she panted. "I...I love you."

He leaned forward to meet her lips with his. "I love you, too, Buffy...I love you...love you...."

He increased the pace of his thrusts, pumping deep and hard, reaching around front of her to play with her clit. "Gonna make you come, baby....make you come hard...make you see stars...make you scream."

Her loud panting and moaning was driving him crazy. Buffy was never one to be silent during sex, and he absolutely loved that about her. She had no shyness about telling him exactly what she wanted from him in the most graphic terms.

She threw her head back, straining all her muscles. "It feels so good...so good...fuck me harder, Spike...fuck me good."

"Mmmm...." he moaned. "Gonna give me some cream, kitten? I want to feel it all over my cock...so wet and sticky...give it to me...come for me, baby...do it...do it now!"

Wih a soft cry and a final tensing of her internal muscles, she did as he asked, coming so hard that she brought on his own orgasm before he knew what was happening.

"Oh, FUCK!" he shouted. "UNH...YEAH..YEAH...AHH..."

He actually felt dizzy as he emptied his load into his wife's willing body, slowing down a little at a time, until he was buried all the way in her, pressing hard against his rear, his hand cupped over her soaking wet pussy.

After a minute of recuperation, she looked back at him and smiled. "Now that's what I call...a successful consumation."

He had to agree.


A loud blast of music from the juke box startled him out of his thoughts. He glanced at his watch and realized that, as pleasant as his little trip down memory lane had been, if he didn't get home soon his bride would be waiting with something far sharper than her tongue.

Finishing his drink, he dropped some money on the bar and headed for the exit.


"Where have you been? I was getting worried!"

Buffy was standing on the front porch, waiting for him.

"Sorry, baby." He dropped a light kiss on her cheek. "Store was really crowded," he added, mentally crossing his fingers.

In the kitchen, he deposited two full grocery bags on the table. Taking off his jacket, he tossed it over the back of a chair.

"Here you go, babe," he said when Buffy came in to the kitchen. "Knock yourself out."

She rewarded him with her prettiest smile, the one that would make him do anything she asked, and began unpacking the bags.

Behaving as though he'd brought her a treasure chest overflowing with jewels and gold coins, Buffy pulled out one item after another.

There were a dozen candy bars of different varieties; a bottle of chocolate syrup; two dozen chocolate cookies with chocolate chips in them; chocolate covered straw-
berries; three cans of chocolate fudge frosting...a particular favorite since their baby had been conceived after they'd spent hours licking it off each other; a carton of
slightly melted chocolate ice cream; and a gallon of chocolate milk.

As she emptied the bags of their treasures, she heaped words of love and praise on him. "You're my hero, baby, you really are. The way you treat me...all the sweet things you do for me."

Pausing in her task, she smiled at him and said. "You're the best husband I've ever had."

"Gee, thanks," he replied. Leaning back against the counter, he had to smile. She could be such a little girl at times, and was also so adorably unaware of it.

<Like a kid in a candy store...literally>

Sometimes, she was a wide-eyed child, capable of charming the devil himself. But, at other times, she was all woman. A sensual creature with a wild heart, who could seduce God's most virtuous angels from their hope of heaven.

Buffy continued unpacking her treats. "You are the sweetest, most considerate...wait a minute." She looked at him. "Where's the chocolate licorice?"

Spike hit his forehead dramatically. "The chocolate licorice! I knew I forgot something."

"I take back everything I said," she pouted.

"Well, I'm sorry, punkin. I meant to get it, but I got sidetracked by something and just...forgot."

"Sidetracked by what?" she demanded. "The butcher shop?"

"Careful, baby," he scolded. "Be nice to me, or I won't show you what I found."


He shook his head. "You'll be sorry." Reaching for his jacket, he dug into it's deep inner pocket and extracted a can with a brown snap on lid. Smiling wickedly, he turned the can slowly, displaying the label.

Buffy's eyes opened wide. "That's..that's..oh, my GOD!" she squealed, reaching for the can.

He laughed and held it high over her head.

"Hey!" She punched him in the gut, with no effect. "Give it over!"

He saw her prepare to jump and reach for the can. Afraid she might jar something loose, he relinquished it.

Buffy stared at the can in sheer delight. "Who is the genius that invented chocolate whipped cream?" she asked. "I want to write him a fan letter."



Chapter 10:


The Ninth Month


The evening sun had finally set, and Spike was stretched out on the sofa with a cold glass of beer and a novel he'd been looking forward to reading.

Ever since Buffy's pregnancy, he had rediscovered his love of the printed word, something he had lost right about the same time he lost his mortality.

But after reading up on every baby advice manual he could lay his hands on, he had found himself missing the pleasure of just sitting quietly with an interesting book and losing yourself in the words.

So, he had tagged along with his wife to the Sunnydale Public Library one night, and walked out with a card of his own, and a stack of books he'd heard about over the years, but never bothered with.

Taking a sip of beer, he set the glass down on the coffee table and propped his feet up, then opened the book.

He hadn't gotten halfway through the third page when Buffy's voice interrupted him. "Honey, please! I just polished that table a little while ago."

He looked over the top of his book, and saw his wife standing over him. She looked absolutely adorable in a pair of denim overalls that almost completely disguised her "nearly ready to pop" tummy, and she had her hair in two long braids.

In her hand, she held a bucket stuffed full of cleaning solutions and sponges, paper towels and dust cloths.

"Oh...I'm sorry, love." He removed his feet and placed them on the floor, then glanced up for her approval...but didn't see any. "Something else?" he asked.

"The glass. Please..use a coaster," she asked sweetly, whipping one out of her pocket and handing it to him.

"Sure, love...anything you...." His voice disappeared when he picked up the glass and saw the very large ring of moisture on the table. "Oh, I'm really sorry...I just...I didn't know...I wasn't thinking..."

She shook her head like a country school marm, then extracted a clean cloth and re-polished the coffee table. He made sure the coaster was under the glass, which earned him a "thank you, sweetie" and a brief kiss brushed across his forehead, before
she went on her way.

Keeping his feet on the floor, he sat back again and re-opened his book. A page and a half later, he was startled out of his seat at the sudden roar of the Hoover a few feet away from him.

"Lift your feet!" Buffy shouted over the clamor of the engine. He levitated them a few feet in the air as she pushed the vaccum back and forth many more times than she actually needed to.

"Sweetheart.." he yelled. "The carpet isn't exactly covered in filth! I think that's enough! "

"What?!" she yelled back.

"Can you turn that off, darling?!"

She nodded. "I'm almost done in here!"

He waited, as patiently as he could, until she toddled out of the room, heading down the hallway. The hum of the motor faded a little, and he went back to his book.

The story was just beginning to really peak his interest when he heard a loud thump from the stairs, and looked up in time to see Buffy hauling the heavy vaccum cleaner
from one step up to the next, intending to lift the thing all the way up the staircase.

"Stop that!" he yelped, tossing the book aside and leaping to his feet.

"What? I'm fine!" she insisted, one hand on the machine and the other on her hip.

"Buffy, please call me when you want something heavy lifted," he begged for what felt like the hundredth time. "I know you're the slayer and all...but you're pregnant, love. I don't want anything to happen to you or the little one."

There was really only one argument that worked with her when it came to this issue, and he wasn't above using it. "Baby, please...you know I like doing these things for you. Please let me." Those words, along with the most earnest and pleading look he could summon up, usually got him his way.

He hauled the Hoover upstairs and waited for her to join him. "Will you let me do this for you?"

"No, honey...go read your book. I can push the vaccum, it's not hard to push. And I'll be careful," she promised.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm positive...go. Read. Relax," she pushed him out the door.

When he was back on the sofa, he picked up his book and waited for a moment, listening to the even back and forth motions of the vaccum.

It was a soothing sort of sound, something called "white noise" if he remembered his earlier baby info correctly.

The peaceful back and forth swish was suddenly accompanied by a distinct thud that could only mean one thing...she was lifting furniture.

"Damn it!" he shouted, flinging the book down with a splat! He took the stairs three at a time, and found Buffy on her hands and knees in the nursery, dragging the heavy rocking chair back into place. The crib was completely pulled away from the wall, and the solid oak changing table was slightly out of place.


She jumped, whirling around with a guilty flush on her face. "There was so much dust down there...you wouldn't believe it," she began, but he cut her off by grabbing
her hand and tugging her out of the room.

"That's it!" he said loudly. "No more cleaning..no more nesting..consider yourself nested until this baby is born."

He dragged her downstairs and forced her to sit on the sofa next to him. Picking up the book, he turned it back to page one and began to read out loud.

It wasn't long before she was curled up next to him like a kitten, listening intently as he read. Her attention spurred him on to make the story more enjoyable for her, and he employed his entire vocal range to entertain her.

After taking a break for her to go to the bathroom, he brought her a glass of orange juice and a bag of chocolate chip cookies. She sat peacefully beside him, only stopping him once to tell him that being "nested" was a lot more fun than working to get there.

Five chapters into the book, he closed it up for the night, resisting her pleas for him to continue.

"No. Time for you to have a bath and get some sleep." He was firm on the subject, and he knew by how easily she let herself be persuaded, that she must be tired out.

She undressed in the bedroom as he ran a tub of luke warm water for her. He helped her step in to the tub and sit down, then he lathered up a soft sponge with bath gel and ran it over the wet silk of her skin, working up a creamy, fragrant lather.

He stripped and climbed into the tub behind her, making her lean back against him as he plied the soapy sponge over and over the hard drum of her pregnant belly. The baby moved beneath his touch, seeming to want to play with her daddy already as she kicked and rolled, making her mommy gasp and request that she settle herself

"See, she's not gonna do that, love," he informed Buffy with a cocky grin. "That's my little girl in there, and she knows her own mind."

Buffy smiled, cupping his cheek in her wet hand. "I think you're right," she said. "She sure isn't listening to me. In fact," she oomphed after a hearty kick in the ribs, "I was hoping maybe you could have...a talk with..her."

Obligingly, he placed both his hands on her tummy and stroked it gently. "All right now, little girl," he murmured softly. "Mummy wants a little rest now. Be my Princess and settle down for Daddy, hmm? You'll be here with us soon, baby, and I promise you we'll have wonderful adventures together, the three of us. That's my good girl...you sleep now, and Daddy and Mummy will make everything ready for you."

Miraculously, the baby stopped her incessant flip-flopping about and settled into one position, with just an occasional little tap of one tiny foot to let her parents know she was still around.

"You're amazing," Buffy sighed. "The things you can do with your voice..."

He chuckled. "Just don't ask me to sing."


More please...