by Megan
*banner by bloodshedbaby*

Chapter One


“ Its…its…what the hell is it?” Buffy spluttered as she looked at the screwed up, red-like-a-prune thing.

Spike snorted, watching the Slayer with evil humour as she backed up several steps. The thing she was distancing herself from wailed and went redder. Which was odd when it was sort of brownish to begin with.

“Well, its, er, I mean to say, she, would appear, er, um, to be, well she’s, mine apparently.” Giles stood uncomfortably beside the strange shaped carrier housing the even stranger bundle.

The Scooby and neutered, tied-up vamp filled room all turned to him as one, eyes comically wide as they set to refute the news.

“But…but…how?” Confusion was plastered all over the Slayer’s face.

“Come bloody well off it, Slayer. The girly spreads her dimpled knees, ole Rupert climbs aboard, rumpy-pumpy and Bob’s your uncle.”

Whiplash was the new concern as horrified eyes attempted to flay Spike without getting close enough to actually touch him.

Spike grinned maliciously. Right up until his eyes fell on the delightfully blushing face of his Slayer, that is. Then he frowned. Hard. His Slayer? Was his brain malfunctioning from lack of decent blood?

“Giles wouldn’t do something like that,” Willow counteracted, displaying unwavering faith in her responsible father-figure.

Spike leered at the redhead, sniffing out the chaos in the room and cherishing it as the last honest to goodness whiff of evil he’d probably be getting in a while.

“What? The Watcher absent the stones to get a little rough an’ tumble?”

Horrified gasps echoed around the room and Spike felt his grin widen.

“Stop it,” yelled Buffy, fists sexily balled on her hips. “Stop saying idiot British words.”

“Hey!”

“Oi!”

The Brits stood united in their affronted pride.

“As…as vulgar and colloquial as Spike is being, that is no reason to attack a fellow countryman for speaking a language you Americans fail to understand.” Giles almost tore the glasses from his face and rubbed the lenses to a frantic shine.

All this was to the sound of infuriated squalling, the group moving further and further away from the bundle that emitted the awful sound. Except for Spike who was tied to a kitchen chair and wasn’t moving anywhere.

“Got vamp hearing, you wankers. Want to tone the little tyke down a tad?”

No one moved, fear overriding concern as they held their distance.

With a massive sigh formed from irritation and frustration, Spike shrugged off the ropes that held him to the chair and walked over to the small bundle of pink bunny rugs. Eyes goggled as Willow, Giles and Xander looked at the discarded ropes on the floor. Buffy just tolled her eyes and wondered what made her friends think that a little rope would be strong enough to restrain a vampire.

In a gentle voice no one had heard from him—except for the small snippets of moments he’d been overheard with Dru—he retrieved the struggling and squirming package and tucked it under his arm. He hummed and rocked until the noise quieted to almost silence. Spike turned to face the Scoobies with a contented look of achievement flashing in his smile.

“See? So easy even a bleeding vampire can get it done!”

The expressions of horror hadn’t yet abated and Spike was starting to get a bit jack of all the unexplainable fear in the room. If he couldn’t eat it, he didn’t want to smell it.

“What’s the matter with you silly bints? I thought women loved babies. Clucked over cute little onesies and stuff. Know Dru liked ‘em. Bloody convenient for a midday snack an’ all.”

“Spike,” screamed four voices and finally Giles rushed him and snatched the babe from the arms of the vampire. One look at the older, less gentle man and the baby resumed the deafening screech.

“What? Got one of you useless lot to take it off me, didn’ it?

He smirked in self-satisfaction and took to lounging on the sofa.

“Got any reception on this box, Watcher?” asked Spike as he eyed the television with interest.

Er, not alot,” Giles replied with distraction, his eyes round with terror.

“Okay, okay, everyone just calm down,” jumped in Xander, his arms sweeping wide as he mirrored the frightened looks and let his eyes dart around frantically for the quickest way to sweep this dilemma under the carpet.

“You know what?” he began again as everyone watched him expectantly, his lips pursed as if in pain. “I have to go, can hear Anya calling.” His body was a blur as he passed through the door.

“Bloody chit’s not even in town, you cowardly git,” Spike shouted at the retreating back.

The peroxided vamp was just in time to catch the look passed between the Slayer and the witch and his own eyes shot wide open in sudden clarity and concern.

“Don’t you even think of taking one more bloody step. There is no way on this green earth that you’re desertin’ the Watcher to look after the wee one on his lonesome. So you bints better think of a solution to this mess. The bathroom has an echo and I am not gonna try and sleep with this cutie screamin’ her soddin’ lungs out all night, just cause you lot are too useless to know what to do with ‘er.”

The ‘deer caught in headlights’ look was getting old but given new meaning as he was stunned with it double-barrel like.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding.” Spike bounced to his feet, snatched the baby from Giles’s too loose hold and dumped her in Buffy’s arms. All to the sound of angered ‘hey’s’.

Buffy threw him a look of pure distaste, appearing like she had the spawn of Satan in her arms.


“I don’t know what to do,” Buffy whispered, a hint of tears at her lashes as she put that wounded, ‘help me’ look on her face.

Spike clenched his jaw. Hard. And—not for the first time since working out what the chip in his head was going to mean for his continued existence—he contemplated suicide.

“It’s a human, pet. Not gonna hurt you. You might even find out you enjoy it.”

Buffy watched him, sudden hope blooming in the wild forest green of her eyes, and Spike found himself aiming an honest smile at her. Returning to the sofa, he scooted over to give her room and patted the seat beside him. He tingled in anticipation of her sitting so close to him, the blood pumping loudly through her body an invitation to something other than feeding. Which the incongruity completely set him off his game.

“Come take a load off, luv. Take a look at the little one. Seems settled in your arms. A lot more ‘en in the Watcher’s at any rate.”

Buffy settled in beside Spike, sitting a little stiffly with the restless babe clutched tightly in her hands. Spike reached over to loosen her grip slightly and smiled as she seemed to relax.

When he looked down at the child all swaddled against the world, the gurgling acceptance of the tyke made him feel all satisfied with his lot. For the first time since he’d parted from Dru—or possibly even before. Made him feel like when he’d made a decent killing for the night.

Yeah, with the Slayer by his side, a baby in her arms, it made him feel all… His smile slipped.

Made him feel bloody peculiar.


A/N...Please, please, please review...it feeds me and gets the creative juices pumpin' hard....

 

Chapter Two


The little face was scrunched up in preparation to let rip when Spike began to stroke the baby’s cheek with a slow and soft-moving finger. He added a lullaby in a low, soothing voice and before long, the little princess had relaxed her facial muscles and succumbed to sleep.

As the vampire relaxed back against the sofa, hands crossed behind his head and nothing less than a self-satisfied smirk on his face, he finally noticed three sets of eyes watching him. Their wordless, intent stares were starting to worry him, and he suddenly ran his fingers through his hair to make double certain that yes, William’s poncy curls were well slicked back, and HELL NO was he sporting any of Nancy Boy’s hair gel. No, he was looking pretty sharp as the good-looking vampire that he was, and he went back to relaxing, content to let the trio squirm on their own.

“You are so going to start singing me to sleep, mister.” In one smooth sentence, the Slayer had set his dick to throbbing. How the bloody hell could she do that? He hated the bitch! Spike could feel internal hysteria tickle his throat, but instead of letting loose with edgy laughter, he pinned Buffy to the spot with a manufactured molten gaze. He swept his burning blue eyes over her body and grinned appreciatively.

“Not a problem, pet. Might put a bit of a dampener on your love life, though.” Despite his derogatory commentary, he was almost hoping she was serious. Sitting on the Slayer’s bed, singing her suggestive rock songs while he got her off with the huskiness of his voice. Oh yeah, he could see real potential there.

Buffy’s cheeks flushed hot as she imagined Spike sitting beside her bed, or better yet, on it and using that oozing sex he called a voice to lull her into the land of lusty dreams. Oh yeah, crampy style might just be of the so worth it if that was on offer.

“So, I guess the question isn’t a question anymore now that we’ve made with all the answers...” Willow paused for effect, then beamed her answer. “It’s a baby!”

“Well you’re a sight more chipper about the event than you were a whole ten minutes ago. ‘He wouldn’t do that’,” Spike mimicked in an alarmingly similar Willow whine.

The redhead blushed and quickly hid behind the clueless Watcher.

“Yeah, it’s a baby. Girl munchkin, too. You people are in bloody trouble if it’s a little bit like this that gets your knickers in a twist.”

“And what the hell are knickers?” Buffy snapped, but shushing him as soon as he opened his mouth with a tart comeback, indicating the bundle on the move.

Everyone stilled, guarding the silence avidly to ensure the baby calmed back into slumber.

Multiple shoulders heaved sighs of relief as they all settled back into the situation.

“So, Giles. Want to explain the sitch? I know I speak for all of us…” Buffy looked around at the smaller Scooby group with a frown. “Well, okay, I speak for Willow and myself when I say a resounding ‘huh’?”

Spike couldn’t tear his eyes off her. The clueless California girl routine was—in his eyes at least—simply adorable. Unfortunately, looking at her gave his dirty mind all sorts of images that had him shuffling uncomfortably in his seat.

“Yeah, Watcher,” he croaked, feeling suddenly hoarse. “Already got a houseguest. Why’d you go looking to get another for?”

“I did not go looking…” The older man froze, his cheeks turning an amusing shade of pink. “I had a friend…”

“That is so not possible,” Buffy barged right in, her body tensing with a strange form of sibling rivalry, jealousy of someone givng him a real child that wasn't her. Giles was hers…where did he get time to go and find someone else to be with anyway?

“Why do you silly bints find it so hard to believe that the Watcher might get lucky? Some deaf, dumb and blind woman might actually find him attractive.”

“Hey,” shouted Giles, the flush having spread from his cheeks to the little tips of his ears. “That’s really not necessary.”

Spike’s smirk was evil as he sat back, taking a deep sniff to determine everything was right and on the edge of chaos in his world. Which it very apparently bloody WAS NOT! He bolted to his feet and took long strides to the bathroom.

“Right then. Be gettin’ out of your hair. Not interested in hearin’ how the Watcher knocked some poor bird up. Prolly was too drunk to remember the mediocre event, anyways.” With one nervous, pained glance at Buffy, he was gone, nudging the bathroom door closed behind him.


Willow and Buffy were back to communicating telepathically, except without the real knowing of what each other was thinking. They shared nervous looks anyway, and then the pungent aroma began to filter through the air.

Buffy was the first to turn up her nose. “Ewwww…” she shouted, hastening to her feet and thrusting the baby back into Giles’s unwilling arms.

“But…what…surely you don’t expect me to…?” Giles spluttered in a perfect balance of confusion and horror.

He held the baby out away from his body, hardly having a small clue of what to do with it. He sought the help of the two girls in the room, the ones who should have possessed even the smallest inkling of what to do in a situation such as this, and was defeated in his expectations before he even opened his mouth.

The three looked at each other, desperation to get rid of the smell overriding all prejudice. As one they turned to the closed off bathroom and opened their mouths to yell.

“SPIKE!!”

“No bloody way!” was shouted back, and instead of seeking again an answer from each other, Buffy marched to the door and kicked it open.

“Oh, Buffy. Now really, I don…” was completely ignored as Buffy grabbed Spike by a fist full of black tee and hauled his ass out into the open.

“Oh no, the mighty Slayer and her fearless Watcher can deal with the Nibblet’s nappy change. This well of knowledge is all dried up,” he said with a satisfied air, but his smile turned way upside down as he found the squirming child back in his arms.

“Oi. What are you lot on about. This is NOT my responsibility. Little Prissy over ‘ere couldn’t keep his ding dong in his pants…torture him with the job.”

Determined eyes were unmoving on the issue.

“Bloody vampire, you stupid bints and wanker. Nappy changin’ is more cruel torture than even Angelus could dish out.” There was a slight edge of panic in his voice now, and he was more than thinking the Whelp had the right idea by bolting from the situation earlier.

The reference to torture gleaned only the slightest reaction and Spike felt oddly guilty as he saw Rupert’s flinch. But there were more important problems to be solved, and seeing his escape, he put the baby in the carrier chair, bestowing a quick and completely uncharacteristic kiss on her downy head, snatched up his duster and made like a hare on steroids right out the door after Harris.

Shock greeted his departure as the girls and Giles stood staring open-mouthed at the open door, eyes drawn in a morbid curiosity as the sunlight bathed the carpet just inside the door.

“I guess Spike would rather risk being a crispy critter than change junior’s diaper. Huh!” Then Buffy’s eyes widened as she realised the implication. Grabbing Willow’s arm, she tugged her to the door. “Got a class. We’ll check in later for the scoop.” She stopped, suddenly grossed out by her own words. “The story, not the…ewww…” and the girls almost dived out the door, leaving an ignorant watcher with a dirty baby and a bag full of mysterious objects.

He pulled out a fresh diaper and struggled with opening it out. The container of nappy wipes followed and he alternated looking at the haul of necessary changing implements, and the baby.

“Oh dear,” he muttered with disgust and grudgingly got to work.
 

Chapter Three

When Buffy finally made it back, Giles was happily strumming away on his guitar, a settled baby presumably cleaned and fed—judging by the empty bottle on the floor—and gurgling happily along with the entertainment. The last dregs of sunshine were chasing her heels as she shut the door behind herself and blocked it out.

“I…I guess we weren’t entirely helpful before. Or, well, you know, supportive?” She offered with her presence, feeling a little sheepish about earlier.

Giles smiled as Buffy came further into the room and peered down at the angelic face relaxed in sleep.

“She’s actually kinda cute.”

“Well, I suppose it was a bit of a shock for all of us.” Giles was forgiving, even if the too recent memory of nappy changing made him shudder involuntarily.

“And what’s with evil Spike knowing more about babies than any of us?” Buffy said with a pout, feeling unusually jealous of the vampire’s ease to adapt to the human world.

Giles chuckled, amused at the vampire’s contradictory nature.

It was a strange moment when both of their smiles slipped in unison.

“Er, where is Spike exactly?”

Buffy shuddered again, a feeling of dread clutching at her heart.

“He left,” she spoke, wondering at her own lack of Slayer responsibility. She had allowed herself to become so swept up in the event of avoiding the baby that she had not even blinked when Spike departed. He could be happily fattened now on fresh blood, draining the innocent.

Well, except for the chip. The chip they still knew so little about and which could easily have stopped working in the interim. Not like Spike had had a chance recently to test its boundaries out. He could be out there now, testing it out on a hundred vulnerable necks.

Buffy jumped to her feet, anxiety twisting her stomach into knots, and wondered why she’d let him out. If she had to dust him…well, it actually kind of hurt. Not that it would stop her from dusting him if she had to, but she had association now, had shared time with him other than fighting. She’d caught glimpses of non-vampire Spike, and secretly, she liked it.

Duty crawled along her arm as she reached behind to take out the stake tucked into her waistband. Hesitation kept her beside Giles while she settled her mind to the fact that ‘on the loose’ Spike could not be good for the Sunnydale community.

Completely unbidden her eyes fell upon the door, and an image of Spike’s look of shock and betrayal as he turned to dust hit her hard. Buffy gulped and took a step toward the door, stopping abruptly when it was flung open and a black blur streaked through.

Only small puffs of smoke escaped the leather covering as Spike threw his duster aside, stood up tall, and ran both slightly singed hands through his flattened peroxide locks.

“Evenin’ all,” he greeted, completely composed and without a hint of guilt. Until his appreciative glance swept over Buffy and rested on the stake gripped tightly in her hand. “Goin’ somewhere, pet?”

Buffy felt something settle in her throat and she squeaked out a response. “Was…” she cleared it and tried again. “Was going to go look for you. You’ve been gone all day,” she accused and he raised a brow in surprise.

“And you were gonna punish me with your fancy stick of wood? How bloody original.” He continued to study her, could sense the slight trembling of her body and let out a mouthful of useless air.

“You thought I’d been out feeding. What part of the excruciating pain from the chip did you miss during my little show and tell?” His voice had taken on a sarcastic edge and Buffy felt slightly ashamed for jumping to conclusions.

“So you weren’t out snacking?” She cringed at the bluntness of the question, but she had to know for sure.

His ‘pfft’ of irritation seemed to be all the reassurance she needed and she replaced her stake and went back to ‘ooing’ and ‘aahing’ over the baby.

“So, Giles. Do you think you can reveal this little mystery to us now?”

Even Spike took a seat, though he slumped back in a big show of being unconcerned.

“Please Watcher, tell the class how you managed to get yourself all tangled in this little web.”

“Yes, well, er, remember Buffy when I asked both you and Xander if you could take on Spike-minding for the weekend? That my friend Olivia was coming for a visit?”

“Uh huh!” replied Buffy while Spike scooted closer to the edge of the seat and leaned in for the big revelation.

“Yes well, apparently Olivia wasn’t coming over to…er, this is very difficult.”
“Take it one step at a time, Rupes,” calmed the vampire without a hint of derision in his voice.

Giles looked at him startled, yet smiled at him in gratitude; at least he would have some support in one corner, as bizarre as that concept was. And even stranger was the look of pleased confusion on his Slayer’s face as she contemplated the vampire. Oh, dear. He couldn’t help but feel a little anxious about it.

But for now, it was on with the details of his current predicament.

“O-Olivia came to see me early, and, well, she brought with her a little surprise.”

Three sets of eyes turned to the well-behaved little baby girl still fast asleep in her carrier.

“Can’t keep her sleepin’ in that thing, Watcher. Little tyke needs a cot. That thing will be bad for her posture. Can’t be too comfortable, either.”

“Okay, that’s it,” Buffy interrupted the baby lecture to stand with her feet planted firmly on the ground and her hands on hips in a show of…well…not defiance exactly. More like something akin to bravado.

It made Spike feel all warm and gooey on the inside.

“What’s it, luv?” he smirked, and thoroughly enjoyed the show of her flush as it crept up her neck.

“What’s with all the baby know-how?”

He kinked his head to the side and couldn’t help but picture her holding the baby earlier.

“Don’t know,” he told her honestly. “Just commonsense, really. Guess I remember a bit from when I was still human. Now, if I wasn’t mistaken, your Watcher was filling us in.”

Everything seemingly settled for the moment, they turned back to Giles. As he opened his mouth to resume the story, the little one dressed head to toe in pink started to wake, and the transition was loud.

Spike observed Buffy and Giles sitting in a state of indecision, and instead of barking orders or insults at their inept behaviour towards a baby, Spike stood and ambled toward the carrier and took the little one out.

Returning to his seat, he rocked and cooed until smiles broke out on her tiny face. Buffy and Giles watched, completely transfixed by the uncharacteristic gentleness—but said nothing.

“So, Rupert. What’s the little bit’s name?”

The older man looked rattled for a minute, then something seemed to come back to him and he beamed.

“Her name is Ophelia,” and didn’t even finish before Spike was laughing.

“What a bloody name to saddle a kid with!”

“Yeah, yay with the expectation of insanity in her future.” Buffy couldn’t resist the dig.

Something suddenly occurred to her and Buffy let out a whoop of merriment.

“Hey, that’s how you know how to deal with her! You’ve got an affinity with the sanity challenged.” She grinned and even winked, causing Spike to almost drop his handful.

“Laugh it up, Slayer. An’ how did you get with the big words? Crack open a dictionary lately?”

“Children, children. Let’s keep this calm for now, please.”

“So, this Olivia woman had your brat, and now she’s dumped her on you. When is she coming to pick her up?” Buffy looked at the baby out of the corner of her eye, wanting to ask Spike for a nurse but feeling too embarrassed to.

“Well, that would be the dilemma.” Giles paused and looked at the two watching him from his sofa and prepared for the reaction. Neither spoke, just watched him with an anticipation he was dreading.

“She…she isn’t coming back. She’s left little Ophelia here with me. Indefinitely.”


A/N...whoa...what a hornet's nest...before I go and thank everyone I just wanted to address a few things to Tammy. Tammy, your comments about Buffy and Giles were helpful and I went straight back and changed it. Luckily no one else has had the same problem. Your further comments, though...seem to have struck a nerve. I don't think it is so much the way these days for girls to automatically be all gushy around babies. This is a different world. As for who is the baby's mother? Try a little patience...must everything be revealed in the first chapter? Thre is such a thing as build-up. As for whether Americans know the term knickers or not, I asked a Californian if they would have known what they were before being exposed to Britishisms on recent tv, and she told me she would have thought knicker-bockers, and, well, not the thing!

Quick glossary : Pram = stroller, Nappy = diaper, apparently a cot = baby bed, nappy wipes = plain old wipes, or baby wipes...man, who thought writing a fic about babies would get so confusing?

Anyway, enjoy and review!!! I'll love you if you do!!

“Well, that’s not bloody right, Watcher. You need to go track the bint down.” The outrage in Spike’s voice was moving, and Buffy found herself staring at him with a fresh set of interpretations. And a tinge of respect.

“What?”

Spike squirmed in his seat as he became the object of attention, and he suddenly felt embarrassed for his outburst.

“It’s…well, I never suspected you could be so protective,” spluttered Giles in a moment of insight.

“Little tikes need their mums. Not right for this bird to just dump her on you and take off. You need to get her back and get things sorted.”

Buffy’s expression was now filled with open amazement, and while Giles turned his head to smile fondly at his newest family member, she scooted closer to Spike on the sofa. Spike immediately looked at her as if she’d gone loco—but didn’t move away. Buffy could see a little smile tilt the corner of his mouth as he looked down at the floor.

“Well, I suspect she may have returned to England, but I can’t go traipsing all over the countryside looking for her while dragging along a baby.” Giles screwed his face up with concentration while he thought through his options.

His silence stretched into minutes and Spike finally caught on to Buffy’s longing looks at the baby, and decided to give her a reality check.

“Here you go, little Lia…you hop on over to your Aunt Buffy.”

Buffy jumped, then held her arms out eagerly for the gurgling baby. Her hold was awkward at first, but then she became mesmerised by the baby’s eyes and started to coo at her, talking baby gibberish.

Spike watched and felt something so fundamentally deep that it felt like a throb throughout his body. He couldn’t help but wonder what in the bleeding hell he was doing being all domestic with the Watcher and Slayer, but as he watched Buffy play cutesy games with the bub, he couldn’t prevent the tingle in the back of his neck.

“I can’t help but agree with you, Spike.”

Spike was suddenly on alert, knowing that the world was completely whacked out of balance. Two days ago these people had him chained to the bloody bathtub, controlling him through rigid feeding times like he was a zoo animal kept under observation for research purposes. Now they were chatting to him like an old wise uncle, taking his advice and even commending him on it. If he didn’t feel the heat of attraction circulating through his body and zeroing in toward his groin, he’d think they were completely off their rocker, or that they’d dusted him and his ghost hadn’t worked it all out yet.

“Of course you can’t,” was his automatically cocky reply. Then he tilted his head to the side and the wonder took over. “Wait. What are you agreeing with, exactly?”

Buffy’s curiosity got the better of her and she stopped playing with darling little Ophelia and glanced up to watch her Watcher and vampire. She blanched a little at Giles’s new enthusiasm, apprehension swirling inside her gut. She had the very real compulsion to fling the baby away and run for her life.

“Yes. I must take your advice and go and find her. Sort out whatever it is that is going on and see if I can’t make sense of the situation.”

Spike was nodding, feeling all manly about the Watcher agreeing with him, when his eyes shot wide open, drowning in confusion and an escalating fear. One quick look to the side saw Buffy getting red as she started to connect the dots as well.

“One little problem there, Rupes. You said you couldn’t take Junior here while you did the search and rescue. What are you plannin’ to do with the bit?”

He could have kicked himself as soon as the Watcher opened his mouth, knowing he was in for a world of trouble. Buffy had no reservations though. She did kick him. Got to her cute little shoed feet and kicked him hard.

“Spike,” she hissed, and he could sense her heart pounding. But as Giles began to talk, she slumped back in the chair with a sadly defeated whimper.

“Quite right. It just wouldn’t do to take the little one through what could potentially be an unknown situation. I would get nothing achieved if I had to care for a baby as well.” He stopped and stunned them with his infectious beam. “So, I’ve thought of the perfect solution.”

Buffy started to shake and darted quick looks to the door as they waited out his pause.

Spike let his eyes sweep back and forth between the three focus points: Watcher, Slayer and door. It was dark now, so no worries for the flame act. But he had a feeling that Buffy wouldn’t be so distracted and let him make an escape this time. He had a gut feeling she would tackle him before he got half to the door and drag him back to hear his death sentence, offered up with a smile.

Buffy decided to brave it out.

“What…ah what…is your solution?” She risked the question; her voice was husky with building concern for the all important, possibly life-altering answer.

“Well, it’s simple really. Quite the perfect solution.” He stopped while he thought out the details, picturing his best course of action while Buffy looked imploringly at Spike.

They both were frantic for escape, and as they were about to charge to their feet, Giles caught them again with his plan, and they rewarded him with classic ‘deer in headlight’ stares.

“Spike is rather skilled in sensing what a baby needs, how to care for them—which in itself is more disturbing than I wish to face at this juncture. And Buffy, I am sure with your love of fashion and footwear that you would be delighted to earn some extra cash. So I propose,” and both Buffy and Spike cringed, “that Buffy, you move in and mind Spike, while he minds the baby.” Giles grinned, completely comfortable with his suggestion despite the fact that Buffy—as speechless as she was—was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Have you gone completely burko? What the bloody hell kind of watcher are you to leave a vampire babysitting your offspring?”

Giles didn’t even blink.

“The kind that is thoroughly convinced that your chip makes you as dangerous as a…a…fluffy, white bunny. And the kind who knows that his options of caring, available, child friendly adults is rather limited. I might have asked Joyce, except well, she works, but if I understand from Buffy, she isn’t even in Sunnydale right now. That leaves me with you to.”

Buffy offered a cringe in sympathy of the putdown, but then her eyes bugged as the implications of Giles’s suggestion crowded in on her. He wanted her to sit the sitter, be nanny to the nanny. That kind of meant she would have to be around Spike. A lot!

“Um, Giles? You know I’ve got school, right? I can’t exactly take little Ophelia…” she looked at Spike and remembered, “ little Lia here, to class.”

“And how many hours would that take you away again? Three? Maybe four some days?”

Buffy huffed.

“And the studying! There’s studying time, too!”

She was completely appalled when both Giles and Spike snorted their amusement.

“Fine,” she spat at the pair as she took to her seat again.

“Buffy, I will expect you to move in here for the duration of my absence. I can accept Spike being left alone with…er…Lia… but not for more than those hours for the day.”

Giles seemed beside himself with good humour as he grinned at the pair sitting unhappily on the sofa.

“Right, I’ll go and pack and organise the plane tickets.”

He jumped to his feet and bestowed an uncomfortable pat to his daughter’s head, and took off for the phone.

“Oi! What about all the stuff for the mite? Cot, pram, nappies, clothes? I don’t know how to do all of it, you ponce!” Too late Spike thought of the arguments to get out of this surreal situation.

Giles ducked his head around the corner from his kitchenette.

“Oh, I will leave you some cash and you and Buffy can go and buy whatever it is you think you’ll need.”

Oh, that does it, thought Spike in rising panic.

“You can’t bloody expect me to go nipper shopping with the Slayer. That’s even poor form for you, Watcher.”

Buffy giggled, hysteria beginning to get the better of her.

“YOU!” she pointed as she screeched with laughter. “The Big Bad pushing a stroller and feeding a baby… with bottles!”

Spike stood, very gently positioned Lia in her carrier chair before shooting the Slayer a furious look filled with hatred, and left.

He got all the way into the bathroom and stared at the glaring white of the tub before climbing in and switching on his telly.

“Bitch is gonna get it good. Nanny Spike might get stuck pushing the bloody pram, but she’s gonna cop the upchuck when junior has her bottle.”

Spike reclined as best he could against the cold enamel, and smiled in satisfaction at his inner image of Buffy covered in baby puke. Oh yeah, that was going to be his one really good day.

Buffy and Spike stood dumbly looking at the lovely pile of cash sitting next to a credit card on the dining table. There had been barely enough time for words in between Giles’s announced trip to search out his daughter’s mother, and leaving to catch the plane. He’d offered up a grin as he laid out the finances on the table, giving them permission to spend freely for little Ophelia’s comfort, and then walked briskly to the door.

A rather loud and obvious throat clearing from Spike had Giles dead in his tracks, a guilty return trek to kiss Lia’s downy forehead, and then he was gone. Leaving Buffy and Spike completely speechless.

Five minutes elapsed in silent contemplation of the table’s contents.

“Huh!” was Buffy’s first attempt to offer anything in the face of Giles’s desertion, her eyes compelled to rest sympathetically on the quiet baby. A weak jab with her elbow to Spike’s ribs didn’t seem to dislodge his stare at the pile of notes on the table and she could practically see him salivating.

“Spike!” she shouted, and he mumbled some inarticulate response, his eyes making sure the cash didn’t move.

Getting impatient, she punched him in the gut and smiled as he keeled over. Cupping his chin she lifted his upper body back up and smiled sweetly at him.

“It’s for the baby, honey.”

Spike’s eyes flew open wide as he watched the playful nature of the Slayer at work.

“This is a load of bollocks. You do know that, don’t you, pet? Bloody Watcher buggers off to parts unknown, leaving a teenager with no experience of kids and a vampire with more of it in the food category than you lot should be comfortable with. He’s no better than the bleeding useless mother that dumped her ‘ere in the first place.”

Buffy frowned, wondering why he hadn’t attempted to bite her head off for the cutesy endearment. Then she frowned some more trying to work out why she wanted to even call him honey in the first place.

Okay, Giles had just completely screwed up her life. What with the making her grow up too fast, and completely unnecessarily with the responsibility of babies, and vamp sitting. She just knew this whole experience was going to scar her for life.

Before she could berate her Watcher much more, Lia began to wriggle and screw up her face. She started to turn red, and Buffy panicked.

“Spike,” she screeched as she grasped his arm. “Do something. She’s going red.”

Spike stood back, rocking on his heels and smirking as he watched Buffy stand shaking on the spot, indecisive and hating it.

“Don’t just stand there. There’ something wrong with her, you idiot.” The tone of voice was frantic as Buffy began to wring her hands, getting rougher and rougher the redder Lia became. Suddenly, the tiny girl opened her mouth and let rip.

“Bloody powerful set of lungs on this one, that’s for bleedin’ sure,” Spike crowed proudly, despite the necessity of covering his ears with his hands.

Buffy stared at him hard, her lip curling with irritation, but almost within seconds she was cringing in desperation, willing to do anything to stop the caterwaul from making her eardrums explode.

“Ah,” she cried with hands clamped tight over her ears. “Please, Spike,” she begged, and nearly collapsed in relief when Spike rolled his eyes but reached for the writhing bundle that was Ophelia.

“There you go, Kitten,” he cooed as he scooped the baby into his arms. Her yowls immediately softened to a whimper and Buffy watched transfixed, having no clue—and no real eagerness to get a clue—how he did it.

“Uncle Spike’ll take care of you.” He rocked her gently and started to sing as he waltzed around the room with the baby girl in his arms, stopping abruptly when his eyes caught hold of Buffy’s amused stare on one of his graceful pirouettes.

“Not a word, Missy. This gets out to the rest of your merry band of mates, an’ I know exactly whose entrails to collect the second this chip stops working.” He’d started out pinning her with a hard stare, but the mirth seemed to be catching and Buffy could only gasp at how the blue altered in warmth.

“So, luv. We’ve got ourselves a bit of a problem.”
Buffy couldn’t help it. She rolled her eyes as her hands rested on her hips.

“Only one?” she had to emphasise with more than a touch of sarcasm.

Spike held up the baby as point of reference. “The bit’s hungry. Rupert didn’t explain any kind of feeding schedule?”

Buffy’s eyes hurt with the width they gained in her panic.

“Feeding schedule? You mean we’re expected to feed the baby?”

There was nothing left for him to do but snort his incredulity and laugh Buffy into a becoming blush.

“You’re not serious, are you?” He narrowed his eyes at her, sniffed the air and immediately lost the smile. “You bloody are. What? You think the mite will survive on air alone? I thought you birds would have a better grip on the practicalities than a vamp that hasn’t cared for a live baby for over a century.”

Buffy pouted and Spike couldn’t help the little shuffle and the drop of the baby rug, which quite conveniently curtained over his bulging crotch area. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the Slayer put out the lower lip for the express purpose of driving him bonkers through the existence of a permanently hard cock. The pressure of an unrelenting hard-on was surely known as a cause of insanity?

Other realities of their situation filtered through to his mind and he couldn’t stifle the smirk that flashed across his lips, completely at odds with the escalating volume of Ophelia’s displeasure. He tilted his head to the side and contemplated the girl who had caused him so much trouble in the past. He wondered what kind of parent she was going to turn out to be over what could be the week.

Buffy was watching him, the lip still poking out beyond the normal line of her mouth, and Spike found himself compelled a little toward her, eyes glazing over as she darted a pink tongue out to wet it and make it glisten invitingly. The boundaries of his pants just continued to get excruciatingly tight, its demanding presence only dimming as the baby’s cry reached deafening decibels.

The squawking broke through the burgeoning lust and both Buffy and Spike cringed simultaneously. It was successful like nothing else in deflating his aching member to a more reasonable tolerance.

“Little one’s hungry, pet.”

Buffy seemed to click to the urgency of the situation and allowed her eyes to dart frantically around her, searching for something that might provide a clue on what the baby needed to consume in order to make her quiet again.

“What do we give her, Spike?” Buffy’s eyes met his and where once he might have rejoiced in the edge of fear in her gaze, he now felt more sympathy than he thought reasonable.

With a sigh of frustration, motivated more for the preservation of his image than for irritation with the little blond, he did another eye lap around the room in search of something, anything that would tell them what to feed the little angel before his ears began to bleed.

“Did the Watcher tell you anything before he left?” he asked hopefully.

The almost hysterical shake of her head dashed his hopes in one, and he began to understand that the Slayer wasn’t all about the everyday practicalities. For a girl who had the world resting on her shoulders, she knew remarkably little about the smaller inhabitants.

“Right, then. Process of elimination. How old would you say this babe is?”

Again her shaking head and body told him he would be making all the judgement calls in this bizarre situation. The huff was real this time, frustration mounting with each denial of an answer the Slayer gave him.

“Okay, littleun. Let’s have a look at you. You’re small, not much fat on those bones yet.” He bravely stuck a finger into her mouth and felt the gums. “No teeth, then.”

“Oh, oh!” interjected Buffy suddenly enough for Spike to jump in surprise.

“Bloody hell, Slayer. Warn a bloke when you’re gonna shout out like that.”

“How could I warn you, Spike, when I would be yelling at you in the first place?”

Spike gritted his teeth and braced himself against the almost desperate howls of the baby, and turned his full attention to the other substitute parent.

“So, what bright little spark of information are you bringing to the party, pet?”

She grinned as if completely taken with her own brilliance.

“We could check for her size on the label on her clothes, Spike. Won’t that help?”

How could he be anything but annoyed with the self-satisfied look on her face, and the first example of rational problem-solving she had attempted since they had been landed in this mess.

“Right you are, pet. Right you are,” he squeezed out through clenched teeth and juggled Lia around until he could comfortably look at the label in the back of her… “What are these bloody things called again?”

The way her confused brow scrunched up her face made his body throb. With a quick jerk, he stopped his thoughts from broaching any other temptations and focused on squinting at the label.

“Ah,” she shocked him again when he was unprepared, and he felt the baby slip a little before he got her back in a secure hold.

“Can you stop with the bleeding loud and unnecessary exclamations. On top of this ones crying…” he stopped in thought. “You know, luv. This one still sounds like a newborn. The wail is enough to set my teeth to bloody powder.”

“I…I was just going to say, that thing she is wearing is called a romper.” Her eyes suddenly looked alarmed, like if she got it wrong she was going to lose the biggest test in the world. “I think?” she finished off in that little girl’s voice that melted the big bad in the Big Bad more than a little.

“It’s okay, pet. Romper it is. But this baby is less than 8 weeks old is my nearest guess. An’ there’s an echo in my head. We have to find a way to feed her, right bloody well now. This kind of torture sends people insane, you know.”

Desperate panic added to the search around the room, and finally Buffy’s gaze rested on a puffy navy blue bag, brimming with something as the sides bulged out.

Without thought, she dived on it, attacking the zip with a zest she usually only showed her pizza.

It seemed like a gift from Heaven when things that looked like feeding implements fell out of the bag, along with a piece of paper. A quick study of the writing had her eyes fixing back on the pile of cash on the table, and when she turned back to Spike, her face was pale.

“Spike? There’s a list. She left us a list. What kind of mother leaves a list? I don’t know what to do with a list…” Tears were brimming at her eyes as her heartbeat increased, thumping a rhythm of hysteria that Spike was quickly finding wasn’t his favourite music anymore.

Two strides and he had the note out of her hand and retrieved a tiny bottle and small container of a powdery substance. The bottom of the note held the short answer to their mystery, however. Without further thought, he shoved Ophelia in Buffy’s arms, took the small bottle and what he was taking on faith was formula and not some other more damaging substance, and followed the instructions to the letter. He returned with a lukewarm bottle of milk and shoved it at the Slayer.

Her eyes widened in alarm, already sensing impending disaster.

“No objections, Slayer. You feed; I’ll look in the phonebook. We’re going to need a few things and I need to find where to go shoppin’. So get that into the tyke to stop her frettin’ and lets get on with it.” He looked angry and Buffy gulped hard.

“Okay,” she squeaked, and went about sitting comfortably, trying to work out the best way to hold the baby while aiming the nipple to her mouth. Buffy sighed in relief as the small mouth puckered and then latched on.

“Mission accomplished
“This isn’t so bad. This is actually kinda neat,” Buffy whispered conspiratorially to her teeny little charge as Spike spoke on the phone. The milk level in the bottle had fallen so fast that Buffy wondered if the silicone actually had a leak and she just hadn’t noticed it yet.

No way could a baby suck that fast!

The last drops gurgled down to the bottom of the bottle and Buffy smiled at how successful she was at her task.

“Okay, Mr. Experience. Princess Lia is all fed, no more gripees for her.” The smile faltered as the baby’s face screwed up slowly into the most adorable pout the Slayer had ever seen, before letting the most heinous cry explode from her lungs.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the only explosion. As Buffy tipped Ophelia up just a little, leaving her head admittedly a bit wobbly, she screamed in pain, quickly followed by a round of babysick that covered all of Buffy’s front and half her face.

The Slayer—covered from cheek to waist with baby formula—was speechless for all of two seconds, then her own wail built in her diaphragm and she shouted in near hysteria.

“Ewwww…Spiiikke!”

Her frantic eyes landed on the carrier and she quickly put Lia back in, then snatched up a coat—looking pretty tweedy—before rubbing herself raw in desperate need to get the baby vomit off her.

Spike was in front of her in seconds, his smile derisive as he took in her altered state and Rupert’s now ruined jacket.

“Do something,” she pleaded with him, holding her arms out—speckled in puke, her voice all wobbly. “She spit up all over me, Spike.”

He tilted his head to the side and contemplated her thoughtfully. “Did you burp her, pet? Help get her wind up?”

Buffy’s emerald orbs widened. “You couldn’t have told me about doing that?” she spat at him, beyond irritated that her only set of clothes weren’t fit to be worn outside the apartment. Weren’t fit to be worn in the apartment.

“I need to take a shower right now,” she screamed like a banshee at the smirking vampire. He made the mistake of following along behind her and quickly got smacked in the head by her flying top, damp and sodden from Ophelia’s upchuck. That he had his hands buried right in it as he gripped the top in his fists didn’t even register. The bare smooth expanse of her back was the hypnotic focus of his eye as she rushed for the bathroom door, giving the taps over the bath a sharp twist and almost moaning as the water burst through the nozzle.

He’d bumped right through the door as she attempted to swing it closed, not even noticing when he continued to follow her and began salivating when she peeled off her pants, his focus on her back falling as the naked globes of her arse that appeared extremely bitable.

And then she turned around and he felt the fabric in his hand tear as his claws extended and got caught. Holy fuck was she a picture. Bloody perfectly rounded tits that made his fangs itch to taste them, to mark them and make them his property. Her muscular abdomen and arms, the neatly trimmed curls that kept her pussy hidden from his gawking eyes.

And then her hands were intently scrubbing at her skin and he could feel drool dribbling out the corner of his mouth. It must have been a cold breeze that reached her from the open door because she turned suddenly and caught him staring. A scream pierced the steamy air.

“Spppiiiikkkkeeeee! What the hell are you doing?” she screeched at him while frantically trying to cover her luscious body with the shower curtain.

“You know what, Slayer? Lia needs a wash, what with all that baby spew on her.” And he spun on his heel, though unfortunately not quick enough for Buffy to miss seeing the bulge of his pants and flushing bright red over every exposed inch of her body.

When he didn’t come back straight away, Buffy released her death-grip on the curtain and turned back into the water, panting still in shock at his behaviour and then taking a second to wonder at the lack of his snarky comments. She hadn’t expected anything less than his emphasis on how imperfect he found her—too slim, way too small breasts, too muscular for a girl. Not like he wasn’t evil or anything. But he’d been silent, almost an admiring glint in his face just as he was caught and rushed from the room.

Just as her blood pressure resettled on normal and the heat of the water seeped back into her clammy flesh, the shower curtain was torn back and a naked baby thrust into her arms.

“Know what, pet? Best I take off my T-shirt if I’m to help you scrub the little one clean.”

Buffy’s eyes bugged as Spike whipped off the black that hid…the most amazing and sexy abs she had ever seen. No way did Riley or Xander have muscles like that. As she gawked, she completely forgot that she held a baby against her slippery naked body and a Spike poised to do a bit of washing.

He leaned across her, trying hard not to stare at her as he reached for the soap, offering grateful prayers of thanks to the big guy in the sky that good little Ophelia had relaxed her lungs and was finding the warm water soothing.

“Right then, lather up time.” And he soaped up his hands, rubbing them lightly over the baby’s soft skin. Was it his bloody fault if Buffy was holding the munchkin so close to her torso? Course not! So when he went to wash Lia’s back, how could he stop himself from brushing against an agitated nipple? Was bleeding well impossible.

A strangled gasp jiggled the nerves that fed his cock to action, and he felt his hard flesh expand painfully against his zipper, almost wishing for another bout of baby vomit to project from the baby right on his crotch. Any excuse would do in a crisis.

More rubbing, more accidental nipple stimulation and suddenly his hands where on her belly—under the guise of washing Ophelia’s back. Buffy didn’t move, stood completely still as her body began to shake. In Spike’s mind, that was just wrong. Here he was, the Big bloody Bad stroking her tits into delicious peaks and she hadn’t moved or made a noise other than that first painful exhalation. So he let his hand circle her belly, revolutions getting larger and larger until his fingers were brushing the hairs between her legs.

The pounding of her heart stirred his cock some more and he felt like growling—he kept it in with the vicious control on his will that he’d mastered over the twenty odd years spent being piggy-in-the-bloody-middle of Dru and Angelus. Thank fuck that Darla hadn’t wanted a go.

His eyes shot wide as he felt the infinitesimal shift of her position, the subtle parting of her thighs and his finger slipped, diving unintentionally between her pussy lips to attach itself to her clit. Once there it seemed stuck, and the only way he could shake it free was to rub it back and forth. Gently at first and then more vigorously in an effort to get loose.

“Ohhhhh,” she moaned as he desperately tried to get his finger back to safety, grateful again to Higher Powers that she hadn’t at least dropped the baby. Lia seemed to be so comfortable against the Slayer’s warm flesh that she’d closed her eyes, softly breathing the sleep of the innocent as Buffy bucked her hips against his finger.

“Thata girl, luv.” And by some odd fucking twist of hysteria, more of his fingers got caught in her sticky honey, delving up her hole in a way that made him think he was more likely to lose them than ever get them back. As much as he wished to taste whatever it was that held his grip so firmly, he was terrified for his lips and thus stayed on his feet.

She was gyrating against him, dislodging the fingers one minute and giving him hope when they were suddenly sucked back inside, leaving him desperate and with a head full of mush.

So, in the midst of such turmoil, was it so beyond the realm of possibility that he would bend down to kiss the sleeping baby and instead find his head lodged between two scrumptious bodies, teeth latched hard to a nipple as he sucked in a shocked breath.

“Gahhhh,” Buffy told him and he could only nod, the pressure of his suctioning mouth twisting the aching bud from her body. “Spike,” she sobbed and his fingers twisted against the cruel thing that held him hostage, feeling it right to the tip of his cock as the funny nub and the slippery moisture heated and pulsed in his hand.

And only then, when Buffy was panting her way to calm, was he able to pull free, his hand squeezed weak in the nicest way. At the same time, he worked out that the reason he was dripping was because he’d lost his head. Quite literally, even under the pelting shower water. Spike hid a smile as he grabbed up a towel in one hand and turned the faucet off with the other. He thrust the big fluffy towel at Buffy, marvelling at her confused, spaced out expression and took Lia into another. The baby stayed relaxed as he patted her dry.

Then he was gone, dressing and placing his precious excuse into her carry-cot once again.

And Buffy hadn’t moved one lax, brutally satisfied muscle.
A/N:some people were offended over the shower/baby squicky sex. For that I apologise. As a veteran mum of four babies (the last only 18months) I have to say that you have to take the time where its offered. Kids are ALWAYS around! So, as my beta is also a mum, the fact that some might have problems with it didn't occur to us. Also, yes baby puke is slippery stuff. Lia had it on her CLOTHES, not her body. It mostly went on Buffy who had by then soaped herself vigorously. Older babies are very wriggly, so yes, not an option. However, Lia is only newish, and fell asleep. So therefore, she wasn't wriggly for Buffy. Our baby girl loves the water. Those secrets might come out later. We'll see ;)
Now, on with some more.

Thank you Tami (spikeslovebite) for helping me kick this chapter out and in shape.


Buffy could hear Spike in the other room; it sounded like he was singing to Lia while he was getting the baby dressed and settling back to sleep. The imagined sound of Spike’s steps forced movement into Buffy’s limbs and she dried herself in a fury of towel fluff, almost left whimpering when she went to dress and came to the sad conclusion she had nothing to wear. Her panties on, she was horribly aware that she had nothing else but the decorative tangle of her towel around her body. Feeling a nervous shake seize her limbs, Buffy looked desperately around the bathroom, hoping for something other than the reality of nothing. And then she saw it and her relief was almost painful.

By the time Spike walked through the doorway, a smirk firmly in place, she had donned his discarded black T-shirt. Despite the fact that she was feeling rather exposed, Buffy twisted her lips into a stubborn line of irritation, unable to tear her eyes away even as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the loops. She gulped as his fingers released the first button on his jeans, feeling the jolt as each following button popped open and then he was naked, standing proud and erect in front of her. Every sour word she had gathered for her rant about his audacity flew right out of her brain as her eyes were drawn dangerously to his jutting form.

Feeling a bout of shakes surge through her body, Buffy slammed her eyelids closed and squeezed them tight for that added security measure.

“I am so ignoring this situation. The last hour has been completely wiped from my brain and anything I have seen and…and…” Her lip wobbled as her body attempted to force her to relive those mind-blowing moments when Spike’s fingers played with her.

Her eyes shot open at his amused chuckle, forgetting that he stood full on frontal and showing her things she had never really seen before.

“Gahhhhh, “ she screamed, frustrated tears prickling at her eyes. She turned on her heel, intent on making it to the door, only to have it closed before she got there. Not slammed, ‘cause that’d wake up the baby. But she collapsed against it, defeat in every limb and then whimpered as something hard pressed her into the wood.

‘Spike chest, Spike chest’, she repeated in her mind, feeling the glorious nakedness of his muscles as his cool skin burned through the back of the thin cotton. Her palms rested flat on the door as she felt his hands settle playfully on her hips. Then they swept down and hiked up underneath his own shirt and rested over the thin string of her panties, scorching her skin as he again rested on her hips.

Her breath ceased to flow, caught in her throat as if she had forgotten the trick of breathing, only a thing learned and practised religiously for the last nineteen years.

“Sp…” His name didn’t even quite pass her lips as a heavy weight collapsed in her belly. She’d felt something move. Something twitched against the cleft of her barely covered ass and the moan was caught in her throat as well. The build-up was making her flush; making her shake in fear, and anticipation, and excitement and desire.

She wanted to move—run out of there screaming like a woman abused.

She didn’t want to move. Wanted to push herself back onto him, feel his thickness slide between her legs and rub against the nub that was desperate for further attention. And then because she obviously had no self-control and she was about to burst, she did, feeling his hands clamp onto her flesh as he held her against him. Her panties were useless—too thin and now sopping wet and soggy as the friction increased. The electricity that was passing through her body at his touch sent tiny shocked bumps to mount a revolt on her whole body.

He moved, pulled his pelvis back so that the tip of his erection bumped her hole as he left, before oh so slowly rolling back, stopping only as the belled head teased her swollen clit.

And finally it exploded from her throat—the breath she’d held, the moan and now the mini pants and cries as his hands swept up her ribcage.

Her head fell back on his shoulder when he had at last reached her breasts, letting the underswell rest in the cup of his hands while his limber thumbs rubbed against her sensitive nipples. She was so wet she could smell her own arousal, knowing that the scent must be overpowering for a vampire, and somewhere in the back of her mind that fact made her feel proud.

“Spike? We have to stop,” she told him, force lacking from her voice as she moved over him again, wanting him to abandon her upper half and tear her panties away from her body. “This is so wrong,” she couldn’t help point out the second she grabbed one of his hands and directed it to her panties. She didn’t want to make all the suggestions, but God! She was so stimulated, so wet. And he was here, behind her and so gorgeous and sexy and dangerous and strong, and thank God he had a brain!

She felt his lips at her neck, blowing cool air over the wet marks left by his tongue, kissing it before latching on and sucking some more. His hand brushed over the front of her panties before going back to the side band, and then she was quivering. All turned to jelly as her panties were dragged down her thighs and left in a sodden puddle at her feet. It was so easy to step out of them in her still bare feet.

By the time she realised that his cock was now rubbing her bare, moist flesh it was too late. She’d left for lala land and she wasn’t coming back until the end of the road.

“We’ll stop, pet,” he whispered in her ear and Buffy almost sobbed her objection. “When we’re completely bloody satisfied we’ll finish. Already playin’ mum and dad, may as well work with the fringe benefits.”

She had no clue what he was saying—other than that he wasn’t going to stop. Was going to push her until her face was mashed into the door. But it wasn’t enough; her body was covered and turned away from him. Her pussy ached so badly and her nipples were almost screaming out with her intense need for friction that it was enough to finally get her hands off the door. Within seconds the black cotton tee lay in a heap on the floor and she felt him fully against her skin, finding herself writhing on the flat edge of his cock as he continued to tease her.

She needed stuff so bad, needed to feel him and burn him. One arm curled behind her, drawing his face to hers. Lust-drugged lids barely took in the sight of the other’s capitulation as she dived on his mouth, memories of Spike lips flooding her mind and turning her on even more.

Then he spun her around, diving on her mouth as he sucked the life right out of her. Certainly her sense as he pulled her leg around his hip. A little jump and she had both clamped tight around his waist, feeling her teeth clench as he tried to keep his cock away from her slippery tunnel, seeping now in enthusiasm to take him in. A hand reached for him and directed him to the place, and he stretched her opening.

“Arrggghhh,” seemed strangled from his throat as she sucked him all the way in, her mouth claiming his tongue in an erotic mirror-image. Then she found her back slammed against the door and he was thrusting into her with all the power of an extremely horny vamp, letting go of her lips to alternate little sharp nips at her nipples, at her throat. His hands made prints in her ass as he squeezed her around him, holding her tight.

It was fast and furious, a mindless round of animal instinct and Slayer loss of control. It was like she didn’t understand when his demon appeared in front of her, only looked on in fascination as hot amber eyes burned her senses. His teeth actually seemed desirable, and having no idea what she did, she tilted her head to the side, writhing and moaning when sharp points slit her skin was slammed out with pussy pulsing pleasure.

She held his face to her, bucking against him like a desperate wanton. Everything hurt in the most exquisite way and as the climax finally hit, she could feel everything so intensely. Could smell her own blood along with the spill between her thighs. She could hear her thundering heartbeat, Spike’s desperate pants for useless breath. Could feel the warmth of the door at her back and the heat of their bodies joined. And what she felt most, was the rightness of how it all was.

It was too much, the day had blown her right away with things she had never expected. Sure, Willow’s spell had given her ideas—ones she had taken firm action in dismissing from her mind, even if she slipped up now and then. But to think of herself with the evil vampire like this? She’d never allowed herself to wallow there. And now she had the reality and it was never going to leave her head.

Tears were strong in their push for release, so when her cheeks felt wet, she couldn’t even be surprised. When her body slowly slid down the door, his fangs and cock deserting her, they fell even faster. But rather than admit that what had happened was so, so beyond good, Buffy resorted to defense. One look into his shocked face made her want to cave in and hug him, hold him close while they calmed. Even try that afterglow concept out. But it wasn’t her. She was the Slayer, with a new set of fang-marks for her stupidity. And how could he do that again?

She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to lick his bottom lip. She wanted to reassure him that it was all okay, that they’d work it out—just not yet. Not now.

She hit him. One big slap across the face for the affronted girl’s sake. The embarrassed, shy girl who had just had her first time with the evil vampire up a door. How unromantic was that!

She remained speechless as she snatched up her discarded panties and tee and left the room, determinedly ignoring his look of hurt and the red handprint on his cheek.
 

A/N...I am seriously hoping you all don't mind the smut, because I can't hold it back. It's completely taking over the story!



Spike clenched his teeth and swallowed hard. Bloody bitch! Always with the hit and run. Didn’t help that he felt something kind of twitchy. Felt a little like guilt—but that couldn’t be right. He didn’t do guilt. Big Bad here. He scratched his head, rubbed his abs and succumbed to being at a complete loss. What the bleeding hell was a bloke to do when he’d just had an awesome shag and the silly bint couldn’t recognise the power of it?

Well, he was naked and he’d be buggered if he was going to stand around making a fool of himself while she went to hide in the living room. He twisted the faucets on and a burst of heat created a cloud of steam to immediately filter throughout the bathroom. Just before he was about to step into the tub, he saw her small pile of dirty clothing and with a groan of self-disgust, he took them into the water with him.

Soap and water got her top and pants clean and he set them on the side of the tub while he swished his own body with a soapfest. He loved the smell of soap. Not many vamps used it so it was nice when he smelled fresh amongst the refuse of the rest of his kind.

Cleaned and dried, he was left shirtless as he got his jeans back on and cinched up his belt. Spike didn’t mind, though. How could he when he had the comfort of Buffy boob imprints when she threw it back in his face?

Problem was, they had to go out. The little bit needed some clothes and a cot, and a pram. Rupert left money and it was time to go shopping. However, as fetching as Buffy might be in his black T-shirt and knickers, he didn’t think security would let her get far at the mall.

So what he needed was a dryer, and as Rupert obviously didn’t have a washer, he seriously doubted he was going to find the laundry companion. What to do, what to do?

“Slayer,” he called to her, determined to ignore the way she’d covered herself in watcher tweed while she hid in the farthest corner of the sofa.

Her eyes watched him, skittish, and her lips were wordless. He could read nothing of how she felt about their earlier interlude in her face and he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Gotta go shoppin’ for the midget, pet. You’ll need some clothes as I’ll wager you’ll want some input in what we get for her. Clothes and some other essentials.”

She nodded, her eyes wide as she felt her body go taut against the thin cloth that covered her.

“I don’t have anything else here. And I wouldn’t be caught dead at the mall in anything from you or Giles.”

Spike felt a smirk tickle his lips. There she was, riled up and ready to shoot her mouth off at him. If only he could shoot something into it rather than put up with the abuse that would come out.

“Right then. I washed your other stuff, but Rupert doesn’t have a dryer. Any suggestions?”

Buffy raised a brow, perplexed that he’d done something so helpful as wash her clothes after what she’d just done. Which didn’t mean she was going to jump in and fix the situation.

“I could call Willow and have her bring some of my stuff over?”

“Or I could just go over and pick it up. Be faster—you know, vamp speed.” He leered at her, hoping she’d say yes so he could have a little gander at what little snippets of lace the little red witch might see fit to include.

“Nah uh, too dangerous, Big Bad. Commandos after your butt, remember?”

He frowned in irritation, sick of his life being held captive to a bunch of weak pussywillows—hiding behind their nifty little vamp-zappers so they could neuter those far more powerful than themselves. Wankers!

He flopped down on the couch, defeat obvious in the slump of his shoulders and the bow of his head as he stared at the carpet, completely missing the hot stare Buffy treated his bare upper half before she staggered over to the phone.

In his head Spike was brutalising the little poofter soldiers in every way imaginable. He was peeling back their scalp to drill in monster shards of metal, shocking their little pea-brains with a direct blast of electricity. He was carving up their genitals so they could feel as impotent as he did. He mumbled the violent images all the while that Buffy gave her directions to Willow. When he left the thoughts behind and looked up again it was to a face of Slayer grins.

“Guess you want to hurt them, dontcha?”

He nodded vigorously, for a second thinking that she was going to actually let him.

“Pity you’ve got that chip in your head. Makes you all, flaccid?” she offered with an evil laugh.

“Didn’t hear you callin’ me flaccid just a while ago now, did I, pet?”

He hit her with his own burst of evil hilarity as her face burned red.

“Willow is bringing my stuff over right away. Xander was over there so he can get her here safely.”

“Oh, bleeding brilliant. Jus’ what I need, the bloody whelp seeing you in your knickers and my T-shirt. Bloody marvellous.”

Spike’s eyes goggled as Buffy sashayed her way over to where he sat and lifted the shirt over her head. She straddled his lap, grinding her pelvis against his hardness. “Do you think it would be better if he see me like this?” she asked, her voice coy and mischievous.

Spike stiffened—in more than one way.

“Are you gonna belt me again if I touch you?” He surveyed the perkiness that bounced gently right in front of his mouth and felt his fangs subtly piercing the gum as they sat and waited.

The way she tilted her head to the side, watching him with a nervousness betrayed only by the pounding of her heartbeat, captivated him completely, and so without waiting for her reply of positive or negative, he latched hold of one juicy pink nipple and sucked on it hard.

“Eep,” she squeaked. “You’re so…bad,” she told him, already writhing with the piercing pleasure of his blunt teeth scraping over the tip of her nipple. “Sp-Spike?”

He buried his teeth in her breast, fangs slipping past the soft flesh to mark her again. Not a lot of blood spurt into his mouth but it was enough to get him as hard as a straining erection could possibly be. He supped at her flesh, his mouth holding on to her with a tight suction as she gyrated in his lap. His hands on one side of her panties stretched the fabric taut until it split, leaving her crotchless with the cloth hanging from one leg. Her flesh met the stiff fabric of his jeans and his demon was going wild with the scent she was transferring to his clothes.


His demon receded through Spike’s force, letting go of her nipple and flesh so he could drag her lips to his. They’d not done enough of the kissing. So he held her head with one hand as his other loosened his zip and his cock sprung free and tall. Then he was directing himself to her slick hole, no thought in his mind other than he needed desperately to get inside. One smooth upward thrust and he met the edge of her womb, tickling the surface and leaving her writhing uncontrollably while she gasped around his lips. Her sensitive nubs rubbed like static friction against his chest as she bounced up and down on his cock.

Then she arched her back and she started leaning back, her hands holding his shins as her hair brushed the floor. Her moans got louder as Spike took control of the movement and he propelled himself into her with avid thrusts. He felt the bounce of her body and it made him harder and frantic, felt the tip of his cock brush against the small protruding bundle of nerves that had her panting and sobbing in need. His hand stroked her belly as he held her with the other, himself falling forward a little as he fell to his knees on the floor, her pelvis arched in his lap and her back close to lying flat. It was so erotic, so hot that he could now touch her tits and pinch the tantalising little pink peaks into hard and aching little peas. He bent her legs and directed them around his neck and started to pound her into the ground, his cock swollen and needy for the end. For the pinnacle that would see his juice flow out of her and tickle her arse crack.

He could feel her muscles pulsing around him, could feel the push of his cum in his balls as it told him to let go. He did so with a shout of pure satisfaction when her hand cupped his balls, giving a firm squeeze before she bucked at him a little more. Knowing that Willow was probably getting close to being at the flat, he grinned as he recognised the excuse. He pulled out his cock and milked it on Buffy’s breasts, little spurts catching at her bottom lip. His finger latched hold of her clit and he rubbed—distracting her burst of vitriol with a little mindless end to their activity.

It was firmly set in Spike’s mind that they were screwed. And not so much in the good way. He’d had her now, felt the warmth of her pussy and her blood and if he had to stay and help out with a baby, there was no way, no how he was giving this little sideline up.

Their breaths matched as they desperately gasped for air. Despite not needing the air to expand his lungs and promote speech, it was Buffy that came to first.

“Oh My God,” she said, her legs still would around his neck and licking experimentally at the pearl of dead semen on her lip. Her face screwed up waiting for the moment of ewww, but it wasn’t there. As she tasted her once mortal enemy, he took to rubbing his spendings into her nipples, delighting in the slick movement of his fingers over her flesh. He only stopped when he smelt approaching danger.

“Right you are, pet. But it might help if you take to thankin’ the Big Bad. God had little to do with it. An’ now you need to wash up. I’ll get your bag from the witch.” His sentence finished with a full stop of a knock at the door. Buffy shot him a panicked glance as she fell about untangling herself from his neck. He grinned as he spanked her arse hard, laughing low in his throat at her heated glare as she ran for the bathroom.

Spike stood, tucked himself into his jeans and slinked back into his tee, already loving the warmth of Buffy boobs against his pecs. Christ it was erotic and had him wanting the little spitfire Slayer all over again. Still, first things first.

Lia woke up just as he opened the door. Spike grinned proudly at his little girl who knew just when to keep to sleep, so dad could get in his not so little poke.

Willow stood at the door with a nervous smile, offering her equally nervous wave as she offered the bag. The sound of the baby had her rushing by Spike, though, as she raced over to pick Lia up.

“She’s so adowable,” Willow pouted at the tiny Ophelia, rubbing the baby’s chubby cheeks in an expression of delight. “Where’s Buffy?” she asked, looking around Giles’s apartment curiously.

“In the shower. Baby puked on ‘er. Bloody hilarious. Slayer freaking over munchkin vomit. She of the one used to wearing demon slime on an almost nightly rate.” He chuckled as he collapsed back on the sofa, imagining again slick slayer skin as she was probably washing him off her body.

No doubt about it the night was turning into something quite memorable.

He rolled his eyes back as an emasculating thought bounced around his brain in a similar enthusiasm to when she’d bounced on his cock. If he could just get the bint moving so they could go do some shopping!

Just a quick note to address whether Buffy's first time with Spike was crude. Ordinarily I would say--if it was ehr first time then yeah. But many affairs start out from hot sex, or you wouldn't do it in the first place. She hasn't embarked on a relationship with him...yet! So, hot is what got her motor running...so I don't agree its crude. I am sorry if that scene was offensive to some. But it is rated NC-17 for a reason. And ultimately, this IS Buffy and Spike.


Chapter Nine

What on earth was wrong with her? Buffy stood once again in the shower, hot pulsing water washing essence of Spike from her body. The memory of what he’d done, what he’d sprayed all over her; it set a fire in her belly that just kept building and causing the rational part of her brain—the part that was saying she should grab stake, dust now, think later—to completely and uselessly shut down. She was a Slayer of sensation now; a girl balanced on the precipice of change, of growth that might just connect on too many levels with a dangerous vampire.

It scared the living crap out of her.

That she really, really enjoyed what they had done—that she rejoiced in every new, softer layer of Spike that was uncovered—was really beside any kind of point she could think of.

Okay, deep breaths. Who needed points anyway? Then her mind wandered to lovely hard points that did so well at pointing out certain spots that it made her garble incoherently a language completely foreign to her. Alrighty then. Spike had a nice point, of the rounded fleshy kind. And it brought up many, interesting…points. But no way could she let this go any further. Her own best-friend could have just walked in on her while Spike sprayed her with his load and she lay there like a ho and licked her lips clean.

Buffy whimpered at her riot of thoughts as she attempted to scrub herself clean, but then her hand slowed and she thought again of him rubbing his cool fingers in the slimy mess and how it had warmed every cell in her body.

Deep breaths just weren’t cutting it. The bathroom suddenly held too many memories. Her first time with Spike. Sex with Spike. Her third time ever in the intimate realm of sex, and despite the venue—which even she couldn’t deny was way hot—it was by far the moment that blew the lid off her preconceptions of sex. Spike blew the lid off everything. And what was she thinking again? Oh yeah, she was thinking with that thing that was reacting to the cool slide of him between her legs.

Gahhhh. Stop. Thinking. Now!

Right, what had he sent her in here for? Other than to hide from the all-seeing, all-knowing eyes of her witchy friend? Shopping. The thought brought a wide and almost painfully excited smile to her lips.

SHOPPING!! Oh God, this was gonna be such a blast. Someone else’s money, to splash out and really spoil a girl. So, that girl was a baby on this occasion. Buffy could work with that. She could see pretty pink sleepsuits and funky coloured socks already. And those adorable curls. Did they have baby hair accessories?

The enthusiasm of this venture swept her mind clear of the other more confusing thoughts and she rushed through her shower, drying and tucking the towel around her body once again. She’d left Spike’s T-shirt out in the living room—not that Willow should really see her in such a thing. Buffy blushed already just imagining the questions and raised eyebrows.

It left her resorting to squeezing her head through a small gap of the opened door and trying to get the attention of her friend, indicating a need for her bag of clothes while determinedly ignoring the leering vampire that had her heart thumping wildly. She didn’t even need to lay eyes on him to know he was trying to see her through the narrow slit of the door. Evil peeping vamp!

Oh God! Buffy thought, relief relaxing all her limbs as she snagged her pack from Willow and dived into it to find something to wear. The horrible colour clashes and completely mismatched items of clothing caused Buffy to cringe—finally accepting how negligent she had been as a friend in not trying to take Willow’s quirky style a little more in hand.

A tight orange spandex top fell out first, and Buffy nearly collapsed when she managed to find some close fitting black pants that would go okay. Not how she usually wore either of these two things, but beggers so weren’t choosers right now. This definitely wouldn’t be too bad, she decided with a nod. She was dressed, hair brushed and make-up applied within the next twenty minutes.

Just as she packed away her left over belongings there was a harsh thump on the bathroom door.

“Bleeding hell, Slayer. We’re only going to the bloody mall, not the Ritz for dinner. Put a bit of leg into it and get your lovely arse out here, pet. Mall won’t wait forever.”

Just the throwaway reference to that part of her body—which had had its fair share of Spike attention—made her flush right down to her gaping cleavage. Buffy frowned. Not really the best kind of top to wear when out shopping for baby things. Oh well. Thanks Willow!

The redhead had her arms full of baby when Buffy rushed from the bathroom, steam and faint fruity smells drifting out behind her. Spike hovered at Willow’s elbow, attempting to act all cool and evil, but Buffy felt stunned by the look of protective concern for the little girl that clouded the clear blue. His eyes were trained on Willow like a hawk, ready to spring to action should he not approve of any of the witch’s moves. Buffy didn’t know whether to smile affectionately or gulp in horror.

Who the heck was this evil murdering vampire that was gushing over a tiny baby girl in Giles’s living room? This situation, this vampire—and okay, mucho with the hot steamy sex—had her way beyond wigged. Shaking her head and leaving the oddness to sort out much later when she wasn’t still hazy from the sexfest that kept her body singing said vamps praises, Buffy turned to collect the collection of bills and credit cards that Giles had left for this trip. The clear empty table didn’t compute with her for a moment, her inner eye replaying an hour ago as she sunk onto big powerful and hard Spike.

Spike pinned her with a knowing glance when her heartbeat accelerated, smirking and eyeing her top lewdly. If Buffy didn’t feel the tight hold of the fabric keeping her in her top, she might have been convinced that Spike saw a lot more than was possible. One reassuring look found hard pebbly outlines where her nipples were and she couldn’t prevent the groan of embarrassment as she quickly covered her breasts with crossed arms.

“So, looks like Spike has money,” Buffy proclaimed with a steely look at the not even slightly guilty looking Spike. “Let’s go then.” Buffy grabbed the coat that Willow had brought to match her hastily chosen clothing and cringed at the pale green. She was so stopping at her dorm before they brought the baby home again from their shopping trip.

Home. The thought made her flush return as she thought of the things that home entailed for her right now. Home was a bed in Giles’s apartment. An apartment that only had one bedroom, one bed and knowing evil nasty Spike, he wouldn’t be giving it up so Buffy could get a decent sleep. Which added to the images of sharing that she was trying desperately to keep out of her head. She swallowed, hard, as naked Spike images persisted, limbs entwined with her own as they moved together.

Damn, this top felt tight. Right in front of her, right in front of softly cooing Willow, Buffy’s eyes fell to Spike’s crotch and she felt both horrifyingly fascinated and fevered that he seemed to be growing.

Buffy flapped her lips, desperate for some kind of noise to get her back to thinking with something other than hormones. Spike beat her to the punch.

“Can’t do that yet, luv.”

The sexy promise of his voice completely robbed her of her usual cool and she started to fidget nervously, her mind flashing rapidly over her morning activities that she suddenly wished hadn't been interrupted by Willow’s arrival.

“Wh-why not?” she stammered, wondering if she was going dumb. Could sex with Spike make her lose braincells? ‘Cause she so wasn’t thinking. Not if she was getting hot again just because he used all those stupid pet names. Pet names that were driving her wild.

“Haven’t got the baby bag together. Need to take some nappies and things. Bottle incase she gets hungry. Not sure yet what her feed times are.”

Buffy watched him and completely flew to the next wiggy level of wigged.

“Huh? And again I say wha? And who are you again? And what the freak is a napp-whatsa-hoovy? Feed times? Like in the zoo? And when did going to the Mall get so hard?” Buffy felt herself approaching a tearful breakdown. For the first time since Giles dived out the door, leaving his pile of lovely guiltfree-in-the-spendage money and a sexy vampire she suddenly couldn’t keep her hands off, Buffy felt close to hyperventilating. She’d suffered, dammit. That baby had puked smelly milk all over her clothes, leaving her to resort to Willow’s wild and whackily uncoordinated dress sense. This burden was proving completely out of her league.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she pushed through wobbly lips, and then the sobs began and in front of a stunned Spike and Willow she ran for the bathroom.

Spike eyed Willow to ensure she was still holding the baby correctly and instructed her to stay put and guard the littlun with her life if she knew what was good for her, and he headed into the uncertain Slayerhaven to find out what the hell was wrong now.

He found her sitting on the toilet lid, her face in her hands as she cried quietly and her body shook.

“What’s wrong?” His voice wasn’t exactly cold, but neither was it infused with much sympathy or interest. He felt exasperated, not sure why she had collapsed in this weird emotional slump when they had things to get done.

“As if I’m gonna tell you,” she mumbled miserably, her head rising to hit him with the impact of a Slayer all red and snuffly, face saturated with tears. There was no sign of her usual Slayer fire and insult.

He groaned and crouched down in front of her, tugging her hands down and holding them firmly as he looked into her shimmering green eyes.

“Please tell me, pet. Can’t put things right unless you do.”

She looked at him like he had horns sprouting out the top of his head.

“That,” she said and he scrunched up his face in confusion. “Right there. Who the hell are you? Because I did not just have sex…twice…with my number one mortal enemy. He with all the baby info and knowledge. And having a baby is so much responsibility. I’m only nineteen. I’m too young to play mommie.”

Spike grinned and hauled her off the loo, thrusting gently against her as she settled into a rather good feeling straddle.

“Stopped being mortal enemies when I came to you for help, I reckon. And moreover, I think we should wait to discuss what happened earlier when little Scooby ears aren’t so much present. You pick up stuff about things when you’ve lived as long as me, and contrary to what you might think, I didn’t kill every woman I came into contact with.” That revelation seemed to embarrass him and Buffy looked intrigued as he dropped his head, avoiding her eyes. But then she felt her body heat as he seemed hooked on her breasts, the revealed slope of them so very close to his mouth.

Buffy jumped when he laid his lips against her warm skin, sweeping them gently over the swell before moving up to place gentle caressing ones on her neck. He reached her chin and then nipped at her lips.

“An’ yeah, it’s a big responsibility, ‘specially for a girl like you.”

Her eyes bugged at the automatically assumed insult, and he chuckled at her. She was so predictable it was hardly fun.

“I meant that you’ve already got the world on your shoulders. Don’ need to be mum on top of that. ‘Cept the Powers have seen fit to bring you this. An’ me. I’m here too.”

His voice had lowered to almost a sensual rumble and Buffy forgot her panic and wondered how it would have been if this was real and Lia did belong to her and Spike. Sadness consumed her when she had to be strong with herself, reminding herself that the current situation was because Ophelia was Giles’s. A niece, or sister maybe to Buffy, but not her daughter. It felt wrong.

Buffy couldn’t help but feel like his lips on hers were right, that he was comforting her about something that was theirs, that he was sharing something personal. It felt too good to kiss him, feel his tongue roll against hers and push at her teeth, nibble her lips and hold her close. Her tears wouldn’t stop flowing as she dealt with this need. She held him tightly against her body, crushing herself against him as she took some more of his yummy taste, the kiss becoming more passionate.

They were stopped by a cry from the living room, Willow’s attempts to placate becoming more distraught.

“Time to go be heroes, goldilocks.”

Buffy blushed at the new name, feeling more than confused and yet happy that he was branching out on her.

One more quick kiss and she released him, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

This sitch was way with the weird, yet Buffy followed him, smiling past the blur in her eyes. She could handle responsibility. She ate responsibility for breakfast. She owned responsibility.

And Lia was hers!

Spike stood in the middle of the store and let his eyes spin around the floor and wondered what the hell he’d done to be tortured in such a manner. Within thirty seconds of stopping, they had been bombarded by the gushing enthusiasm of a salesperson. The woman’s eyes passed quickly over Buffy and lingered on Spike before finally falling on the baby.

“Oh, isn’t she the most precious thing,” she cooed as she let Lia play with one of her chubby fingers. Spike counted to three before he grinned at the woman’s change in expression. “She…er…doesn’t look a thing like either of you.”

“We’re bab—“ Spike began before his explanation was completely run over by Buffy.

“She’s adopted. We’ve been waiting ages for her but now we have her she’s just the love of our lives.”

Spike just watched in horror as Buffy seemed to be all dazed about the romanticism of their apparently much longed for adoption.

“Oh, how darling. Congratulations. You are such a handsome couple, too. So what do you need?”

Buffy looked at the woman with a weak, sort of helpless expression on her face, almost panting in sincere looking relief that an expert had arrived to save the day.

“Oi, let’s keep it simple, huh. We’ll need a cot, a pram, a bottle steriliser for the microwave, and a supply of bottles.”

“Oh,” the saleswoman breathed, turning to Buffy in one awed moment. “You lucky, lucky girl. That is the sexiest voice I have ever heard.”

Buffy giggled her agreement and looped her arm through Spike’s spare one, the other dangling with the baby carrier clasped tight in his fist.

“And now you have a little bundle of joy to coddle. I’ll bet she’ll be Daddy’s girl in no time.”

Spike flinched at the wording that conjured up images of how much a Daddy’s girl Dru had been, then shook his head clear and tried to catch up to how this expedition had turned on him.

“I’m so sorry, sir, but I’m not so sure about your terms. A cot…?”

Both women looked at him in expectation and he was silenced in confusion. “You have different names for baby furniture? Well I’ll be buggered. That’s just takin’ the whole independence from the motherland a bit too far, innit?” He shook his head. “Right, cot. Thing so long, slats on the side to keep the tyke inside, adjustable base for the different ages…”

Understanding drifted across the woman’s face and she broke into an impressed smile.

“You certainly know your product, sir. Right this way and I’ll show you what we have.”

Buffy and Spike followed along obediently, Buffy looking at all the little knick-knacks and gadgets with an enthusiasm that was making Spike’s wallet hurt.

Before they even reached the section where all the selections were lined neatly beside one another, Buffy had torn herself from Spike’s side and was walking fast to a polished oak with a pretty pink frilly bedding set.

“This one, honey. It’s perfect for Lia,” Buffy oozed, making Spike’s groin tighten painfully and his brow furrow in shock. He’d never seen the little actress in the Slayer before, but it was fairly dripping from her lips now. No way could she be falling into a pipe-dream, no matter how much the thought of sharing this child was doing to Spike’s ego and libido.

“That’s a lovely one, dear. Sir, we call these cribs over here. Same functions, though,” she winked as she mentally began to tally the cost. “This one is called the Erika; beautiful handcrafted Italian design. Isn’t it just the most gorgeous thing?”

Buffy nodded, completely enamoured with the cathedral style crib.

“Are you sure you don’t want to have a look at the others…?” She stopped as Buffy shook her head emphatically, her mind very made up.

Spike rolled his eyes as he looked at the price tag. “You sure about that, luv?”

“Oh honey, of course I’m sure. Besides, it’s not like we don’t have the money,” she said as she petted his butt cheek. “And these sheets with little angel’s all over them are just perfect.” She shot him a cheeky smirk just as she curled her arm back around him.

“It truly is an excellent choice, and we have some in stock if you need it straight away.”

“Absolutely,” Buffy breathed in obvious relief and approval, almost falling to grasp the woman’s hand in gratitude. “Now the other things my husband mentioned?”

“Oh yes, a…pram?”

Spike was about to squeeze something hard when he saw the perfect thing. He stomped his way over to the assortment and eyed the navy pram, the high carriage and big wheels offering perfect cushioning comfort for this new little charge. The tray underneath was bloody brilliant to hold weapons if they happened to get caught with her out and about.

“This is the one,” he told them confidently, completely ignoring Buffy’s fish-like gawp as she eyed the price tag.

“But sweetie, that’s awfully expensive,” Buffy giggled nervously while shooting Spike an icy glare, as if he didn’t already know she wasn’t amused.

“Ah, but as you rightly pointed out sweetling, we can afford it. An’ if not, ‘m sure the council will help out with a bit of overtime. Our princess deserves the best of everything.” He winked at Buffy before pulling her back to his side and draping a leather-clad arm over her shoulders.

“Can I just ask,” butted in the saleslady with a sweetly concerned voice. “Has the little darling been stuck in the carrier for long?”

Buffy nodded hesitantly, suddenly worried that she was about to get into trouble for something. “We haven’t really had anywhere else to put her. Is that a bad thing.”

“Oh, don’t worry dear. It isn’t the best thing for baby to lie in a carrycot for extended periods, but maybe you could try a baby sling? Your husband could give your baby a bit of something different and carry her around in one of those while you go about the rest of your shopping?”

Spike’s eyes widened in alarm, ready to bite the woman into shutting her lips before Buffy got any embarrassing ideas. He knew it was too late as he watched her light off and run after the woman.

“Ooh, ooh, Spike. This is perfect.” She waved him over, her body fairly vibrating with excitement. “Can we use this now? My husband would love to be able to carry Lia around in this. Give his arm a bit of a rest. He’s a bit of a weakling, you know.” She gave the saleslady a conspiratorial wink.

“Oi, cut it out, Slayer,” Spike practically snarled, the dent to his pride almost enough for him to test the workability of his chip. “I’m not wearing that around the shops. You’re off your bleeding rocker if you think that I am.”

The disappointment in Buffy’s falling face and the disapproval in the saleswoman’s was enough for Spike’s insides to wither. He clenched his jaw, struggling against his temper.

“Bloody hell,” he exploded, his fist balled tight. His eyes fell on one that was on display, seeing how he could nurse the baby on his front, leaving his hands free for whatever he might need them free for. Random vamp dusting, playing cards, wielding the remote control, drinking from his bottle of scotch. The thing was a bloody miracle of invention.

“Right,” he said, shocking them with his complete about face and his energetic pace to the display. “Do you have this one in black?”

Buffy smirked at his back, hiding her mouth behind her hand as she imagined him wearing the sling over the top of his duster. Three quarters of an hour later and they were loaded down with purchases, standing at the checkout and signing away on Giles’s credit card, Spike loaded up with a lovely shiny baby sling and a sleeping Lia being rocked to comfort on his front.

Buffy eyed the stack and turned to the helpful assistant with a touch of worry on her face.

“Is it at all possible to leave this stuff here while we go and buy some baby clothes?”

The woman smiled, completely on the right wavelength with the pretty young blond. She was completely sold by the hunky sight of dad nursing his baby girl in the fashionable sling. It matched his leather coat beautifully and brought his precious bundle so much closer that he could look lovingly at her face. The little family was truly a picture in her eyes.

“Oh, of course dear. You go and pick up whatever else you need. I’ll keep this for you for when you get back.” The woman beamed at the young family.

“Thank you so much,” Buffy said, her hands clasping the older woman’s matronly body in a spontaneous hug.

Spike was beginning to worry about how into this scenario the Slayer was getting. It was becoming a bit disturbing. Except for the affectionate way she seemed to claim his arm. That was kinda sexy in a really innocent way. Yeah, that made him feel pretty good.

They left the carrier and Spike walked off, his big boots clomping on the floor, his duster swishing impressively around his legs and a baby attached to his front in a slick black baby sling. He ignored Buffy’s quiet giggles as he led them out of the shop.

They walked quietly for a while before they passed a store that looked like it sold clothes for children and Buffy took no time in hauling him inside. An hour later, Lia was starting to fret, and Buffy was loaded down with clothes.

“Oi, pick her out a red top and a pair of leather pants.”

Buffy looked at him horrified. “What the hell?”

“You can’t dress the mite up in all that pastel pink. She needs somethin’ a bit classy.”

“She’s a baby, Spike. Besides, I’m pretty sure they don’t make leather pants for baby girls.”

Spike pouted, then turned on his heel and went to lean against the counter. “Bloody hurry up then, luv. Clock’s tickin’ and the bit’s gettin’ hungry.”

Buffy looked moody as they wound the trip up, a last minute dash to buy some formula and they were beginning to collect all the big stuff. Some big guys from the mall helped them lift it all to the car.

Packed to the rafters, Spike thanked his lucky stars for his Oldsmobile that had a boatload of space and settled the baby in and drove carefully off.

“Buckle yourself in, Slayer. It’s Home Sweet Home for us now.” He leered at her top, letting his eyes slide all the way over.

“Time all good Slayers and Vampires retired for the night.”

And he left her body to burn.

Chapter Eleven

“Oh no. I’m not doing that again!” Buffy took three large steps backward and gave Spike and the bottle of mixed up formula her semi-evil eye. She eyed her fresh and still orange shirt and whimpered, not eager for a fourth shower for the day. “You do it. She loves you.”

Spike arched a brow, secretly chuffed that the Slayer of all people could admit to him that the Big Bad was the object of a tiny girl’s affections. Bloody hell he was going soft. But he grinned anyway.

“Right then. I’ll be the manly man of the house and give the baby her bottle, and you can be the woman and go and construct the cot.”

Buffy shot him a dirty look. ‘Evil’ she mouthed at him slowly, Spike becoming quickly mesmerised by the movement of her glistening lips. But before he could put Lia down and pounce on that lip that pouted out beyond reasonable measures, she’d spun on her heel, eyeing the boxes and the room around her.

“Um, where should I set it up do you think?”

Spike eyed her, mystified at where there mortal enemy number one bickering status had gone, wondered why he didn’t feel the urge to grab her and crack her neck for bringing him to such an humiliating level. The squirming baby caused him to finally tear his eyes from the blond who had been the bane of his existence for the past two years of his very long existence. He felt like he had been trying to kill the bint since he first lost his living breath. That’s how much she frustrated him. It only took the whine of her voice though to replace the harsh images of death and glorious bloodshed to remind him that he’d had her blood, and no chip firing seemed to indicate that he wanted something from her other than to eat away the rest of her life.

And she wanted to know where to construct the cot…crib…bloody cot for Satan’s sake.

“Er, knowing mites like I do,” he was interrupted by her disbelieving cough and he shot her a menacing glare, “would be best to have her close to where we’re sleepin’.”

Her coughing turned into ugly choking sounds and he turned away, grinning into the curve of his arm as he directed the bottle’s nipple to the starving baby’s eager lips.

“We?” she squeaked, almost like she had no clue how he could have ever put her and himself in a room together.

“Rupert’s room makes the most sense. Nice big comfy bed, lotsa room and no baby stuff clutterin’ up the space down here. Gimme a mo an’ I’ll help you with the boxes.”

“NO,” she shouted at him nervously, already pulling the box toward the stairs up to Giles’s loft bedroom. “I-I’ve got it, I think.” She shrugged her hair forward to cover the flame in her cheeks and heaved the heavy box up the stairs.

The vamp of experience took little time to burp the baby properly, letting her rest over his shoulder over the top of a rug that had been of a couple included into the nappybag. He screwed his face up in irritation. He supposed they’d call it a diaper bag or something else as equally confusing and odd. Oh well, it protected his duster and that was the main thing. A quick change of her pants and she was all quiet and comfy, batting her sleepy lashes at him as he took himself a good look.

She was a light brown, not really like that chit that claimed Giles was the doting dad. But the curly black hair was enchanting, the sparkling ocean blue eyes hypnotic as she made baby noises and sucked Spike in even farther.

“You’re a right little peach, aren’t you bit?” He couldn’t keep back the smile, couldn’t prevent the small little beat on the edge of his heart that sang praises for this little pile of girl that made him want to be her dad. ‘Cept it was Giles, and that brought a frown to his face.

There was nothing of the tweedy wanker in Lia. In fact…” He sniffed at her face, burying his nose in her small fleshy neck and dragged in her scent through his nostrils, smelling nothing of the watcher in the babe. Feeling nothing that inspired him to want to spill her blood. What he did smell made his head spin.

“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed, smiling widely as he rocked her gently, humming softly as her eyes drifted that last length to fully closed and she was back asleep. He placed her once again in the carrier, grinning like a fool. He wasn’t bothered so much as bewildered, but he was losing his heart as slowly and surely as he had closed it down in this last year since Dru dumped him.

He took the stairs two at a time till he was standing right infront of a red and flustered Buffy, grinning and excited and hopeful. He grabbed her crouching form, tossed her into the air and caught her again, spinning in an euphoric circle before collapsing in a tangle of legs and arms on the bed.

“Garaqua demon, luv.” His fierce happiness had his arms around her like steel bands, holding her hard against his body as he rocked them back and forth. He’d never felt so happy in all his unlife and bloody hell was he glad he’d guilted the bleeding git to hightail it after the dishonest bint.

“And I say loudly, huh?” Buffy squirmed against him, not entirely disliking the effects it had on his body as she found herself shifting to accommodate her different slopes and bumps to fit best against him.

She shuddered when he fell between her legs, his elated face buried against her exposed skin even as his hands were pushing up the hem.

God, it all felt so good. He wanted to taste her so bad, share his mood and celebrate the power of the vamp nose for solving mysteries. It wasn’t until he’d removed her top and had his tongue teasing her nipple while his fingers twisted the other that he saw the pitfalls of telling the secret too soon.

Maybe not the best to tell her she was babysitting for someone other than her Watcher. She’d run, leave the little one to his evil decisions, and the thought of that happening now hurt. Made his balls ache almost as much as that little awakened section of his heart.

He pulled back from her, releasing the nipple with a slurping plop and raised his eyes to meet the Slayer’s. No way was he giving this up yet. No way did he want her to start looking at him like he was nothing but an evil soulless monster all over again. Something had changed today, something that brought them to spread out on the surface of Rupert’s bed. Something that put that little spark of uncertainty, shyness and fear in her gaze but also showed the heat of her curiosity.

It seemed more than reasonable that if he was changing, then so might she be. And so, holding her eyes and melting in the fire of the jade, he claimed her lips in a gentle kiss. Only a slight hesitation and she curled her hand into the back of his head, her fingers sorting curls by kink and length. He sighed into her mouth and felt that section of his heart begin to expand, sucking in more feeling as it applied to the responsive woman in his arms.

The kiss was long and wet, gentle caressing tongues as they explored the newness of what they felt with each other. He consumed her taste, felt lightheaded with her heat and wanted nothing better than to slide along with her naked while the night was quiet.

But it had all changed in the blink of an eye; whatever carnal delight he’d stolen from her earlier in the day, he wasn’t going to receive this time. She had him caught—through her maddeningly delicious fingers loving his hair, her sweet sublime mouth that loved his lips with a passion that had him hard and waiting, with her body, pressed gently and engagingly against all the bits that hurt.

Yeah, changed, but so much better. So much juicier as he felt hypnotised by the roar of her blood, wanting nothing but to taste her passion on his tongue as she spilled past his fangs. To feel the alteration within her too as she gave a little of her heart back to him.

He was turning back into that poofy-haired poem-loving ponce and for once it didn’t seem to hurt half as bad as it always had around Dru. She’s seen him walk in other worlds alright but that didn't mean she accepted them. Poetry with Buffy seemed right, beautiful words building a picture of them as a family.

“Buffy,” he whispered at her collarbone, his tongue licking the sensitive flesh as she shuddered in his arms. His vision had hazed, passion taking him to the brink of love’s bitch once again. Love for the little girl downstairs, and maybe not love for the Slayer he loved to hate, but definitely something. Something potent and strong.

When he felt a shy hand slowly creep up underneath the front of his tee, he held in his breath, wanting to whimper like a little girl. He wanted this more than he’d ever thought possible. Their encounters this morning were based on his carnal lust without doubt, but this had more than a dash of sensitivity that altered his approach.

“Spike? Th-this is wr—“

He pounced on her lips in a fury, not caring if what he was doing was wrong, never caring if he was doing the thing that was moral or just. He was evil for fuck’s sake. Why was tasting her skin making him want to change who he was. He’d forgotten the chip, forgotten that whether there was this right now he was still fundamentally altered from who he had always been. For now there was the girl. The one that lay writing against him even as she said this feeling was wrong, that the rightness of what they were doing to each other shouldn’t bloody well be.

Well, as far as Spike was concerned, she could take her self-righteous claptrap and shove it where the bleeding Powers could never find it.

He ate away her protests as his tongue licked down her body, finding the waistband of her pants and loosening it until it slid down her legs. She offered no more argument, her body completely surrendering to his mastery and he felt the relief reverberate right throughout his body.

His nose nudging against her cleft before his tongue dived in to part her was the last of her sound, a strangled moan caught in her throat as she let her legs part a little wider for him. His tongue swept up the inner lips, gliding over the smooth flesh even as the roughness of her pussy hair scratched the edges of his lips. He pushed the fleshy appendage into her depths, twisting it inside her as he struggled to take all she had, struggled to imprint himself on the most sensitive flesh deep within her.

His teeth grazed her clit first, followed by a worshipful tongue as she bucked against him in the most ladylike display of passion he had ever seen. It brought a smirk to his lips that did nothing but tease them both, and he used all his oral talents to show her how irreplaceable he was to her now.

He wanted her and Spike would use everything he had to keep her.

Even if that meant misleading her about the origins of Lia.

Her thighs squeezed around his ears hard and he could feel the slow build of a pulse that was the precursor to her losing control completely. Her pussy jutted out sharply into his mouth, her clit rubbing against the ridges of his teeth. She screamed, her voice echoing in his ears as well as the walls as he drank her down, supped at her till he felt lazy and relaxed.

Like he had eaten a perfect dinner.

He abandoned the sensitive flesh to press kisses of gratitude against her inner thigh, his fingers stoking the hair that covered the best kept secret in all the world as far as he was concerned.

They were both satisfied and fell asleep—Buffy naked and legs spread, an evil but chipped vampire cushioned against the pillowy softness of her thigh. Feeling too good to move. Feeling the drag to slumber to strong. Feeling the awareness to confusing.

Sleep offered the most comfort and for now, escape.

She heard a soft gurgling noise in the distance and felt the heaviness on her thigh. The noise so far didn’t appear urgent, but looking down she found herself completely naked with a clothed vampire using her inner thigh as his pillow. His left palm rested just above the thatch of pubic hair and Buffy stopped breathing. Shock held her still as she felt the cool breath blow across her pussy lips, frantically trying to stifle a groan.

It was late and the noise from downstairs was getting louder and more demanding. Buffy felt her skin prickle as she tried to think of what to do, finally resting on the knowledge that she didn’t have a clue. But Spike would. That conclusion brought an impressed sigh to her lips. He just kept on surprising her.

She shook her leg gently, hoping to wake him up but instead accidentally nudged him further up her thigh. She froze, feeling his cold exhalation part the hairs around her pussy-lips. Her next try, she sat up. Instead of being able to stir him, he just curled his arm around her hip and snuggled in deeper.

“Oh God,” Buffy whimpered, not knowing how or what to think at this stage of the night when she had already shared four mind-blowing encounters with Spike. Spent time with a vampire she was finding it rather difficult to recognise. But right now, there was a baby who seemed to be not so of the happy to be left alone downstairs.

“Spike?” Buffy leaned down and stroked his hair away from his face, revealing the very masculine turn of his chin and nose even as the concave slant of his cheekbones made him beautiful. His lips were divine and Buffy felt herself easily becoming lost in the hope that she hadn’t felt the last of those lips. And wasn’t she brave for sitting up and staring at him while she was nude? She felt the telltale flush creep up her neck and quickly looked around for something to cover herself with.

All she could grab as he started to move was Giles’s pillow. Jamming it over her breasts as Spike propped open one crystalline blue eye, she nearly hyperventilated at the look of pure predator that was set on his face. He turned back into her thigh and lightly bit her with blunt teeth, making heat shoot through her body at high speed. His tongue stroked wet leisurely circles over her skin and Buffy felt a whimper rise in her throat.

“Lia,” she got out desperately, before she fell back under the influence of his tongue and teeth. He teased and touched until she was shaking silently in frustrated desire. Balled fists ensured she didn’t grab his head and jam his face in the spot she most wanted to feel him, but when she heard the cry downstairs getting louder and more urgent, her hands did find the place but instead pulled him away from her. It took a mammoth strength of will to let him go.

He didn’t argue with her, pulling his body in a fluid move to standing, bending back to her in the last to bestow a firm, promising kiss.

“You’re gonna have to learn this stuff, too, Pet. I’ll fix ‘er and bring her up.” His eyes fell on the half-put together cot and grinned. Guess the little one will have to bunk down with us tonight.

Buffy’s eyes widened in panic. “Isn’t that, like, seriously dangerous or something?”

“We’ll be alert. Everything’ll be fine. You tuck yourself in an’ I’ll go feed the cherub.” He kissed her lingeringly again before leaving, Buffy looking a little disappointed at his clothed form.

Tiredness suddenly seized her and she struggled with the bed sheets till she had crawled underneath, the fabric cool against her skin, her flushed cheeks sighing into the pillow. She closed her eyes and fell into sleep.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

He couldn’t help but think this nursing thing was kind of neat. He liked the moments he sat alone, the warm bundle of squirming girl in his arms, watching him through alert eyes as she sucked sustenance into her mouth. Dru had always loved babies; the blood was newer and fresher and redder. Sometimes the fear from an adult made her tummy rumble unhappily, made her hide within herself till the pain finally seeped from her into someone else. But babies were so innocent, so sweet and lovely, and Dru loved to tear them apart.

The thought of what Dru could do to Lia made Spike feel truly afraid for the first time since he’d been turned. This baby was his—his and Buffy’s, even if the Slayer had yet to work that out. The watcher had no claim, had been lied to for what reason Spike had no clue. But whatever the truth was, this gorgeous little love had been abandoned into his and Buffy’s care and that was where Spike would make sure she stayed.

Spike held his breath as he changed her nappy, resting her in her carrier while he took out some rugs and took them with the old-fashioned looking pram up the stairs. He set it up on Buffy’s side then disappeared to reclaim the baby, bringing her up to rest in a space other than the one she’d been in for the past twenty-four hours.

He wrapped her tight and tucked her in, losing himself affectionately in the plumpness of her face even while he said a silent prayer to anything that would listen that the little one would stay asleep for the rest of the night. Checking that Buffy was asleep, he bent and pressed a gentle kiss to the baby’s head and then got ready for bed.

He stood at the side of the bed and looked at her. Eyed her bare shoulders above the coverings and felt himself react in the way he had all day. He’d always thought the chit was pretty, in an overly strong and opinionated way. Now he saw her beauty, could feel the tantalising power that seemed to hum and pulse around her figure. He could smell her flesh under the sheet, could feel the weight of her breasts in his hands and suddenly craved nothing in his life but to hold her. The hunt wasn’t what he needed right now, but the catch seemed gloriously rewarding.

The best tactic was of course to prepare for bed in his usual way. He shucked his jeans to the floor, followed by his clinging black tee and smoothly slid in beside her. Her heat seemed to beg him to come closer, to wrap his cool body around her and sooth the fire, calm its escape till it transferred the power to him.

It was indescribable. The feel of her silken back against his chest, his hardened cock slotting into the curve of her bum and his hands resting on the more muscular shape of her belly. He couldn’t resist the temptation of trailing a fingertip into her bellybutton, his face seeking the tickle of her hair. Then the irresistible call of her rounded breasts took over his impulse and he was cupping one in his hand, his breath fanning strands of hair as he felt like he wanted to pant. It was so much, this feeling that was welling up inside him merely from a stroke of her skin.

Her erect nipple poked into his palm and he felt his body shudder. The anticipation made him tingle, a sensation that had been absent from his repertoire of feeling since he’d turned to the dark. It was welcome, and strangely something he felt an urgency to surrender himself to. Something he wanted to lay back and experience, willing to allow the Slayer to creep into his heart despite the danger that may leave him open to.

She moved back into him, her upper body craning forward a little so that his loose handful became very secure around her breast. Spike bent his head and breathed in the scent of fresh Slayer at her neck. His lips found the small raised pinpricks of his mark and latched hold, sucking softly. When he’d done this to Dru it meant a connection to his Sire, though so much weaker than this. So much more one-dimensional than this—this heat and need and belonging that scorched him from the point of her neck.

It made blood rush to his cock, achingly hard as he pushed against her, sliding down and up until he slid between her legs. In sleep her hand reached back to smooth over his hip, her legs parting so that he could reach her and touch her. The chit was driving him bloody wild.

She moaned and started moving against him, waking slightly and rolling over. Her eyes were sleepy as she looked into his tense face, and frowned as she raised a finger to smooth the line between his brows. She hooked her leg over his hip and moved down on him, letting herself slip over the swollen head that pushed against her ready lips.

“Spike,” she breathed, her body awake but her mind obviously reacting on sensation alone. And then she was kissing him as her body took him inside, sliding all the way down on him as her hips controlled their movement.

Spike was still, tasting her lips and kissing her slowly, sensually as he lost himself to her gentle rhythm. It felt different, this joining. Different to the world of sex he had known for the past century as a vamp. Dru had never kissed him like this, had never given in to him like this.

His hand stroked her back, holding her tight over him as she continued to roll her hips against him, torturing him with the beauty of her pace. It was intimacy on a heartbreaking level, and as he took in the events of the night, took in the little girl sleeping in her pram, the woman who was loving his cock, the woman he was changing himself irrevocably for.

He knew the moment she woke up fully, her heart beating a little more erratically, a slowing of her hip’s movements and the lessening pressure of her lips. Startled green eyes met his apprehensive ones. Now he was feeling this he was terrified she was going to rip it away from him. Afraid she would walk out on him and the baby—acting like there was no right for them to be together. And while his demon struggled with this new path, he didn’t want her to move. Didn’t want her to go, to walk away and leave him back in the dejected and lonely path he’d been on after Dru dumped him.

He’d come looking for her.

Why hadn’t he been able to admit it? The fascination for this slayer? He’d fought more than two in his time—not that he would ever admit his defeat. He’d been lucky to run away from bad set-ups before, could admit defeat when he was too weak or she was too lucky. But Buffy—he could never walk away from her. Kept coming back to taunt her and himself with what he could never have. Her fire lit something deep inside that he’d kept hidden for too long. Brought something back that William had held safe for him for all this time.

“I thought this was a dream,” she whispered against his lips and then her hips were moving again. Her lips claiming him again, her hands holding him and touching him and loving him.

His hands shook as he held her, allowing his lips to surrender to her even as he struggled to keep some part of his heart to himself. Despite the lack of effort it took for her to slide centimetres along his cock, he could feel the build-up even more powerfully than some of his hottest times. He was touched, in too many places to hold it back, and even as he felt her muscles grip him hard, even as she pumped him a little faster, he felt the spill.

“It is a dream,” he breathed into her panting mouth. “The very best kind.”

She watched him with wide eyes, watery in their question to him.

“It’s the kind of dream that comes true.” And he kissed her again, sweeping his tongue along her lower lip and felt himself warm even more as she moaned.

Pulling away, she smiled dreamily at him and leaned back in to kiss his chin. “Funny how something that was once your worst nightmare can suddenly seem much less frightening.”

“Oi!” he exclaimed, affronted by her implication that he was less of the big bad. Then his eyes fell on the still sleeping baby, and swept back to Buffy. “Yeah,” he grinned before snuggling into her and attempting to hold her back to sleep.

Suddenly a world without Dru and violence and mayhem seemed a bit of alright. Now he just had to make sure he kept it that way.

WARNING!!! There are certain issues addressed in this chapter that might offend some readers. If parents (aka Buffy and Spike) sharing intimacy with a small baby near or in the same bed isn’t your thing, DON’T READ THIS CHAPTER.!!! If you do read it in spite of the warning and leave a questionable or flaming review, you will be severely mocked and soundly ‘neenered’ because, hey! You were WARNED!!!

Chapter Thirteen

Buffy woke to the feel of something sucking on her nipple. The sensation shot straight to her womb and she moved a little to encourage the activity. When she felt a finger tease the other, squeezing gently and forcing a lancing bolt of pleasure straight through her body, she smiled. The sucking was intense, but it felt different. It felt good; felt like something that a primal part of her deep inside craved a connection to.

She slowly let her eyes drift open, finding them captured by the burn of passionate blue as she clamped hold of Spike and wouldn’t let him go. She raised a hand and let her finger trace his lip, marvelling at how soft he was when he had always been so evil. It was too confusing.

And then her eyes fell to her breast, finally working out that Spike’s lips danced in front of her provocatively rather than latched at her breast. Her eyes widened in alarm, panic swirling in cyclonic revolutions in her belly. It was making her feel odd, verging on ill. The act reeked of those things that she didn’t think she was ready for, things she didn’t think would ever be her chance at normal, and yet this moment seemed steeped in normal.

When she looked up, Spike was smiling indulgently, traces of awe shading his eyes a deeper blue. A hot and intense blue that Buffy knew was her new favourite colour.

“Spike?” She hadn’t stopped it from happening—in truth didn’t know how. The moment was too surreal and she was finding her breaths hitching and choking in her throat as tears dwelled in her eyes. “Tell me what’s going on.”

His expression fell a little at her distress, a pain inside catching a hold and harbouring till it could come out and be safe again. It wasn’t affecting her. Lia had chosen the Slayer as her mother and Buffy was scared. She wasn’t screaming, or pushing the baby away, but the look on her face was pure terror. Spike tried to argue with himself that she just didn’t understand and that he couldn’t tell her about Lia’s background. Couldn’t reveal the smattering of demon blood that warmed the child through, couldn’t tell Buffy the traits of the particular species that meant she was now the beloved mother of the most beautiful baby girl Spike had ever craved to be his daughter.

But it all came down to his own fear. Down to a refusal to give Buffy the opportunity to run.

“It’s natural, luv.” He cringed himself, knowing that this kind of thing would feel as unnatural to a girl who didn’t expect to make it into her twenties let alone give birth to and raise a child.

“Ho-how did this happen,” she gasped, silent sobs destroying the fluidity of her voice.

“The babe was mucking up in her sleep. I thought if she hopped in with us then it might settle her and let us get some more sleep. I guess she found you…needed you in that way. Maybe a comfort or something.”

Buffy’s look was wary, nervy and searching him for all manner of artifice. “So, you didn’t put her like this? She did it herself?”

Even though she was quite obviously upset, looking for the evil in him that he had been pretty lax in reminding her was there, he felt anger get the better of him.

“Yeah, sick joke from vamp to you. ‘O course I didn’t bloody make her do it.”

Buffy flinched at the hurt in his eyes, knowing only that she was in bizarro world and now the initial panic was waning, she could go back to feeling that strange twisting in her belly.

“Spike?” she asked, the tears beginning to finally fall. “Why does it feel so good?”

He watched the tiny lips latched around Buffy’s pretty pink nipple and felt himself harden all over—muscles taut, ready to spring. The gentle rhythmic pulse as the baby’s tongue sucked the nipple deep into her throat.

“Maybe ‘cause its bloody beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so sexy and erotic in my life.” The awe was back and Buffy felt swept away by it, shaking a little with not knowing what to do. It felt so strange, so frighteningly grown-up and parenty, and God…erotic! Just like he said.

She watched him as he put an arm around her waist, his eyes asking her a question she just didn’t know the answer to, and then his head descended and he took her remaining nipple into his mouth. Buffy shuddered beneath him, the hard pull of his tongue making her want to scream. Instead, the tears slid down her cheeks as her legs clamped tightly together. She couldn’t believe what was building; pushing at some invisible point within her that she’d never known existed. As his hand stroked her flank, her baby fed from her virgin nipple, and a peroxided head sucked her into ecstasy, Buffy felt it crash down onto her. She moaned, felt her skin prickle with strong bursts of sensation as a climax knifed through her, bringing her off a point of complete awareness. She surrendered her body to them, even as she felt the sting of fangs as they pierced her breast, even as she heard words uttered that would bond the three of them together.

She rode a wave of continuing ecstasy. As he pulled blood from a blue vein in her breast, she whimpered as the pulse of pure need and lust surged through her. Taking her to another world where this was what she was, who she was and the man she needed to complete her.

“Spike,” Buffy garbled, holding his head to her as she hung on to it all, held the beauty of this moment as her heart completed the binding. Her leg parted and curled over his hip, trying to draw his body closer to her as she began to cry. His finger found and gently stroked her, keeping her at such a high point of feeling that she responded without the slightest urge. His slow sucks of blood brought everything to a higher sensation and she found herself flooding around his fingers even as she gave another shout into the hair of her lover. Her body writhing around his name, her soul reaching out to the two and making forever promises that changed the focus slightly of who she was.

Is.

Slayer and Buffy, protector, lover and mother. It was all hers; both these incredible creatures were hers and she sobbed through overwhelming happiness.

Until the visage of a dark woman and her watcher clouded the images of her family portrait. No. They didn’t belong to Lia. She did. The baby was hers. Spike was hers. And even though none of it made sense, that none of it was what she wanted or needed two days ago, she’d kill anyone who tried to take it from her now.

She growled, causing Spike to pull his fangs from her and look at her in surprise. Lia’s lips also fell from her body and Buffy was astounded to find that her nipples now leaked. Tiny dribbles of white fluid that gave her the proof she needed.

Spike smirked as he leaned forward and licked the liquid dripping slowly from the pinkened nubs.

“That is the most fucking hot vision I have ever seen.” And he kissed her, claimed her lips like he’d just claimed her heart. She may not have gathered the implications, but little Garaqua girl Lia had chosen her parents and Spike felt hornier than hell.

Lia gurgled and smiled, her arms waving as the two super-beings stared down at her, pride and excitement at the change in them all making them quiver—a reaction to the bonding that had just taken place.

Spike’s hand ran over Buffy’s flank, teasing her flesh and making him more hungry for tastes of her. The Slayer. Fucking hell, he’d just joined his immortality to the Slayer. Gained a baby. Pinned the new label to his black duster: Big Bad Dad. Oh yeah, his world was right.

Dru’s prediction hit him right between the eyes. ‘Burning baby fishes.’ Well, Lia was certainly daddy’s little mermaid, so it seemed his sire had got it right. And Buffy—everything was truth, everything was reason.

Everything was his.


A/N...well, if you are here you made it to the end. I am sorry if I have lost some readers...and yes I am paranoid that I have :( However, I am extremely grateful for the support up to now.

What has happened so far:- Spike has discovered that Lia is not Giles's child. He calls her a Garaqua demon but hasn't revealed the truth to Buffy. Lia has decided that Spike and Buffy are now her parents and has instigated a bond that has established that. This chapter does not do the big reveal just yet, but the next one will. Stay tuned! And Enjoy...I am very grateful for the support in the previous chapter, which is why I rushed another. See, not finished yet!



Her body was changing right in front of their eyes and no matter how hard he tried, he just got plain hard. And he couldn’t rip his eyes off her either. Xander Harris was looking at the most buxom Buffy Summers he’d ever had a soggy wet dream about and he could feel himself almost losing it in his pants right in front of her. He whimpered as she moved, plump gorgeous flesh pushing against the tiny stretchy top she’d jammed herself into and he had to wiggle in his chair.

Everyone sat in Giles’s living room in silence, looking nervously around at anything but Buffy as they waited desperately for the phone to ring. Everyone but Xander.

“So, can you recommend a good surgeon?” Anya inquired, her perky grin eerily in place. “I mean, that has to be the best boob job I’ve seen in a long while. And this is California, so there’s a lot of ‘em,” the ex-demon concluded as she beamed encouragingly at a very red-faced Buffy.

Xander gawked at Anya’s words, his chocolate coloured eyes becoming even more focused on the swollen nipples poking through the fabric and he almost collapsed into a strangled groaning lump of schoolboy mush.

He salivated and just wished, wished, wished she would jiggle a little to the left and spill out of her top.

"Keep you're bleedin' perverted eyes in your head, Harris, before I chisel ‘em out with a toothpick. You’re disrespectin’ the lady, you git!”

“Huh?” replied the brunette horny still-a-teen as his mouth fell open and stayed there, picturing very x-rated visions of a topless Buffy and…

“Ow!” he cried even as Spike fell to his knees with his hands around his head.

The vampire groaned loud and miserably as he crawled over to sit on the floor at Buffy’s feet, the side of his head tipped into her leg as he contemplated the idiot boy who couldn’t control his stares. Spike growled at Buffy’s avid admirer and Xander finally got an inkling that he was being offensive. The slap up the back of his head from his irritated girlfriend helped to quicken the process, too.

“She has very nice breasts,” Anya confirmed for any that hadn’t already thought it and Willow coughed into her hand as her face fired. “That does not mean it is alright for you to ogle them in front of me.” The affronted newly humanised vengeance demon crossed her arms in a huff and sat down next to Buffy so she could keep an eye to how often her boyfriend’s eyes strayed.

Before anyone else could contribute to the discomfort of the sitch, Buffy jumped toward the phone, sighing in tremendous relief when it rang as soon as her hand hit it.

“Hello,” she barked desperately into the mouthpiece, her back to the group to shield her breasts from any more humiliating attention.

“Buffy! Well, I’ve arrived.”

Buffy could hear the relief and tiredness in his voice, and despite feeling an edge of anger that he had left and put her in this position, she passed him vibes of difficulty in finding Olivia.

“Oh, Okay. Things are of the good here. I didn’t patrol last night but I guess I’d better tonight. And the baby is good. We bought stuff. Furniture type stuff. Spike is really amazing with her.” The awe and pride in her voice when she mentioned Spike’s name was stunning. Giles, ever oblivious to certain undercurrents, pressed on with his news barely even registering his Slayer’s altered reaction to all thought of the vampire.

The vampire in question smirked at the others, stretching out with his hands behind his head and looking every inch the reposing evil vamp they’d all grown to fear and loathe. Until a small cry from upstairs had him leaping to his feet and bounding up the stairs. Willow and Xander’s jaws dropped as they watched his eagerness to go to the baby—the one still obviously alive.

By the time they’d resolved to let all the possible disparaging comments lie for the time being, Buffy was finished on the phone.

“That was Giles,” she told them, nervousness and worry emanating from her voice as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“Uhuh,” nodded Anya, still smiling like a mindless Stepford wife. “We kind of thought that. Being that we were expecting his call and all. And you were talking about buying the baby things.”

“So, I guess you guys probably are waiting to hear what he said?”

“That’s kinda why we came over, Buffster.” Xander’s eyes had once again fallen to the view below her face and Buffy felt all squirmy with the force of her blush.

Spike’s duster was lying over the back of the sofa and Buffy dived on it, thrusting her arms through the sleeves before pulling the sides to overlap at the front.

“Hey,” shouted Xander, jumping to his feet and waving a finger at the duster surrounding Buffy’s body. “Why are you wearing Captain Peroxide’s coat. That’s just not right, Buff.”

“What’s not bloody right, you stupid little wanker, is that you can’t keep your bleeding eyes to yourself. If you can’t be anything but an ignorant sod then I recommend you skittle your ever-widening arse out the door.”

The room was silent, all eyes focused on the fuming vamp that held the little bundle of baby over his shoulder, softly patting her back despite the clear irritation that had his body coiled. Xander suddenly seemed to come back to himself and lowered his eyes in shame.

“I’m really sorry, Buffy. It was just kind of…” His voice faded out as he failed in his search for the closest excuse.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Buffy sighed and the room seemed to relax. “Okay, the sitch is this,” she pushed on, more than eager for her expanded breasts to no longer be anyone’s focus but hers and Spike’s. And just like that she was in power mode to relay the information and get these people out of her home.

Home. Uhoh! They’d have to find one, make their own haven somewhere that was not under Giles’s nose. No matter how much her own opinion towards Spike had changed in the past two days, she didn’t think anyone else was quite ready to hear her do the big reveal about mushy feelings, super-hot vampire/slayer sex and motherhood.

Her blush took a raging turn towards a lusty flush and Buffy felt a sudden need to be alone. Or at least as alone as she could be with Spike.

“Right. Giles just got to London, hasn’t found Olivia yet and will call when he has some news. So for now, we’re on our own. Why don’t you guys come over for dinner tomorrow night and we can all chat. See you all then. Bye now.” And she stomped quickly to the door and flung it open, ignoring the startled looks and huge round of eyes that were staring at her.

One by one they slowly rose to their feet, Buffy taking a leaf out of Anya’s book and smiling widely at everyone as they passed in confusion through the door and into the sunlight.

“You will be coming back to school on Monday, though, won’t you?” Willow seemed uncertain, hesitant to leave Buffy in what she thought was a seriously weird and too responsible predicament.

“Shyeah, like I’m going to get behind now.” And with that confounding implication, she waved and shut the door in her best friend’s face, leaving her friends standing outside and staring at the door.

Buffy turned from the door, her body vibrating with a desperate need for connection that was new. She’d craved Spike’s touch since he had shocked her into submission in the shower, touching her breasts and driving her to her first orgasm with a man.

The fact that she was severely lusting after a vampire had completely lost its impact. The second her eyes fell on him all rational thought and old prejudices fled. He was hers; they belonged to each other and after last night, it was beyond time they’d established it exclusively. Without any kind of audience.

Her body was jittery as she clasped her hands behind her back. Buffy nodded at the still form in his arms and felt herself begin to pant.

“Is she asleep?” she practically begged, feeling little shivers shoot through her at Spike’s knowing grin.

He didn’t answer, just placed the baby in her carrycot before slowly stalking Buffy, his shoulders rolling with each step as he tilted his head to the side and watched her. Drank her in. When he was just two steps away, she felt her restraint snap and she dived at him, her legs strangling his waist as her mouth claimed his. He stumbled backward toward the stairs and the bedroom, his tongue getting lost in her wet recess as he searched and finally connected with hers. The passion was hot and he could feel her body vibrating against him, almost like she was lost in some kind of rush of primal desire.

He stripped his duster from her arms, letting it slip to the steps and falling over it as he tripped his way upstairs to the bedroom. Buffy’s arms were wound around his neck, holding his head in a determined grip to hers, not letting go of his lips as they crushed hers beneath them. She moaned against the pain, pleasure ripping through her as Spike tore her shirt from her body. She wore no bra, finding that none of her usual fit her with her now larger and more tender breasts. She wanted them against his pale, cool chest and so thrashed her hands around until they found fistfuls of his shirt and she forcefully pulled it off his body. The scratch of her tight nipples against his cold body was excruciatingly hot, and she undulated against him so the rub caused even more of an irritation. They puckered and poked into him, the sensation sending them both closer to a serious edge. His erection bruised against her stomach; the ferocity of this promised mating was making her wild, making her want everything as hard and fast as was possible.

It was a shock when her back slammed into the mattress; it was almost a dream when Spike almost tore her pants as he shoved them off her legs. Then she was naked, her opening glistening and pink as she lay open to him. But already she was whimpering, not able to wait and have him just stare. Before she could open her mouth and beg, he was on her, his tongue lapping up as much of her teasing juices as he could reach. To her own mind she felt slippery and wet and she couldn’t help writhing against his mouth as his tongue dived inside her and his finger rubbed at her clit. Miniature sparks of fire raced through her belly, spreading out in a desperate flurry of sensation against every cell of her skin. She was so aroused that she was losing her mind, opening her legs further and further so Spike would feel welcome and consume her whole.

It wasn’t enough. Something large was welling inside, something hot and fiery and bursting with sensation was holding back, just waiting for something that would make it all complete. There was no more thought as her body dictated every action. She pushed his head away with a foot against his shoulder, violently shoving him from her body. He slumped on the floor and jerked as Buffy grabbed the fly of his jeans and pulled the buttons apart. When he was free she was upon him, his cock swollen and an angry red as she straddled Spike’s legs so that it was poking up at her belly. She felt a burning itch inside her passage, wanting desperately to feel the friction of his cock as she sucked him in. But the torture of the wait seemed necessary and instead she put her hands on his chest, moved her hips in a circle as she let his shaft rub the flesh of her stomach. And then her hand curled around him and the coolness of him did nothing to cool her raging need. She burned for this, yearned for this and before she could draw breath, she raised her hips and took him inside.

She gasped against his groan and felt the haze of lust control her. Against her desire she moved slowly, wanting desperately to thrust him into the carpet with all her natural Slayer strength, something urged her to be gentle, to be erotic and tender in this joining. He took advantage of her position and the hang of her breasts to let his fingers tease, rolling and pinching the nipples until they were tight and slightly leaking fluid. She moaned in her ehad, in her throat and in her heart. Then his palms were rubbing and fingers pulling, bringing her closer and closer to ecstasy.

In the blink of an eye Spike turned her off him, her back naked against the rug on Giles’ bedroom floor. She curled her arms and legs around him, holding him in the intimate pose as she guided his pace. The terror of slayer within her wanted it fierce, wanted his claiming to be rough and feral and primitive. His demon reacted with the girl and what she got was tender, love-making of the memorable kind. Of the intensely beautiful kind. His cock slid in miniscule shifts within her as he lowered his head. He sucked from her bounty, growling against the nub drawn deep in his mouth. He bit her gently before moving on to the purpose of their being together. He licked the vein at her neck, seemingly glazed to the fact that it was a side already marked. The unknowing slayer within objected, wanted no memory of others as he took her and made her his. Wanted it fresh, and new and definite.

She cried out in agonised pleasure as his teeth ripped at her flesh, fangs buried deep in her throat and drinking deeply of her life. Spike growled again deep in his throat, his tongue vibrating on her skin as his cock continued to tease her, continued to rub her into a building frenzy, her walls melting like liquid lava around him And then the large mouthfuls he took from her shoved her over the edge and she clung on tight, her legs bruising his hips as she bucked hard against his body, as she pulled him harder to her throat and practically gave him permission to suck her life away.

As her heart raced wildly, hurting the cavity of her chest with the force of the beat, blood pulsed at the twin holes and she felt the stickiness in her hair as a thoroughly dazed and confused vampire began lapping it up, murmuring incantations in a language mixture of growls and some dialect she hadn’t heard before. But something took over again and she was replying, somehow giving her life and promise in a ritual she had no knowledge of but a complete understanding that flooded her mind.

Once the moment had receded and Buffy came slowly back to herself, she saw Spike’s eyes fixed on the curve of her throat, awe eclipsing the satiated passion on his face.

“What the hell just happened?” she demanded, ready to stake him if he didn’t finally give up with all the secret weirdness.

Spike looked like he’d been caught at something evil, though his look of guilt was completely out of character. He was about to open his mouth when she held up her hand as a stop sign.

“No. Not just now, but last night too. What is going on?” The vulnerability in her voice tugged his heart, and even as he looked at the objects of Xander’s interest, wanting to latch hold and suck her nipples until they ached, he heaved an impatient breath and resigned himself for the awkwardness to come.

He just hoped it was something she could accept.

A/N…next chapter just might deal with Lia’s origins and bring about some explanations, so stay tuned ;) .

A/N...I apologise for the delay in posting this. Some home stuff got me out of the mood but hopefully this hasn't suffered. Again, everything you have let me know about your thoughts for this fic have been warmly read and appreciated. Thankyou all so much for your support.

Spike hugged her.

Buffy melted into his embrace and prepared her heart for answers she wasn’t sure weren’t too wiggy for her current frame of mind. His bare skin felt so nice against her that for a moment she wanted to tell him to forget all about it, to leave her in the dark about it all so she could just make it up herself and ignore the strangeness of what was going on.

But that strangeness was bound to be the precursor to something apocalyptic—experience had shown her that burying your head in the sand equaled no head. So, in the long run, wigginess would just have to take a backseat to getting the up on what Spike knew.

When he picked her up and carried her, cradled in his arms to the bed, she felt her body shivering. Not so much with cold, but in an adrenal letdown after the almost feral way she had claimed his body earlier. Claimed. That’s what had her bothered and confused and seriously climbing the wiggo-metre.

She couldn’t ask again, even though curiosity was making her want to explode with questions. It was almost like she was so filled with hopes, was so incredibly comfortable with the possibilities that she was in no rush for Spike to lay the truth on her and find it didn’t match up with her plans. Something had happened between the three of them—the sudden feeding of the baby making her bond them together as family. Buffy felt a tightening in her breasts, felt the puckering of her nipples as she thought of Lia and then groaned as she felt a wetness dripping down her body to pool at her belly.

She felt Spike’s hungry growl reverberate through her bones and she straightened a little further as Spike rushed her. His lips latched on to one nipple, his thumb rubbing the milk into the other.

“Holy fuck this is gorgeous.” And then Buffy couldn’t speak, lost in the sensation of his cool mouth soothing her heated need for giving sustenance. She felt like giving away to the sensation, but as much as she wanted to just believe what she could picture, Lia needed for her to know the truth. It was time to stop with the lustiness and get with the informiness.

“Spike,” she moaned beneath him—and very effectively smashed his face against the ripe swell of her breast.

The force of his body pushed her back and he positioned himself between her legs, mouth still avidly feeding from her nectar even as his fingers began to tease her curls. His chest brushed over her abdomen and her muscles shrank back in surprise, then stretched up to touch him again and again.

And then he was on the move, his cool tongue gliding over the dip in her stomach on the way to treating her to heaven. His tongue flickered in rapid licks over her clit, making it hard and eager for his attention. It felt like he was drinking her up, taking so much more of her essence inside of himself so that there was very little left that remained hers.

She couldn’t mind. Didn’t mind that he took such pleasure in making her moan, in making her writhe in need for him. As his tongue delved into her, loving her and making love to her, she fell deeper into that chasm that held just barely all her swirling confusion and passion for her mate and now her family. As he ate from her, she realized. Her family; they were both hers forever. Her responsibility, her heart and her soul.

When her orgasm hit, she hadn’t been expecting it, had instead been focusing on the gentle rub of Spike’s finger pad against her inner flesh, had been tracking the journey of his tongue as he lathed her into a tight curl of ecstasy. No matter what he had to tell her, she didn’t care. As long as it meant she could hang on to what she now had with him and with Lia, she’d deal.

It was now so natural, so expected that when he left her quivering lips to kiss her into another bliss, he would slide himself into her like he was arriving finally at home. He sucked on her neck, allowed his lips to focus on the bite marks that made her now belong with him while his pelvis slowly thrust within her. Hardly any movement and his resultant surge was as much a shock to her as her own had been mere minutes earlier.

Despite the lack of action, the slow and sweet lovemaking, breath was still gasped and sucked into greedy lungs as if they had both run a marathon. A relaxed numbness had settled over her body, and yet she couldn’t let him go. Felt a satisfaction in his weight as he settled over her, digging his elbows into the mattress on her sides as he attempted to keep the majority of himself from crushing her. But she collapsed his tense arms and felt so much more the intensity of having all of him on her, of owning and holding all of her mate.

Buffy was happy.

So it was time for the truth. Time for the thing that Spike knew that would probably crush her hopes and faith.

“Okay buster, tell me.”

Spike sighed, but knew somewhere within the blood he just claimed from his once enemy that it would be fine. All of it was bloody difficult to wrap a head around, but he had faith in his lover. She was a pretty cluey woman, all things considered. Still, the revelation required a deep breath.

“Right then. See, the thing is—” He paused, completely lost for words, his mouth open and just stalled, waiting for inspiration to hit him from out of nowhere.

“Uhuh, that’s quite a story you’ve got there, Spike. Can see how that might have been weird to keep all to yourself.”

“Too right, luv. You’ve no idea how hard it’s been to not tell you the bit isn’t the Watcher’s munchkin.”

Buffy’s eyes shot wide open at the unexpected confession. She bypassed the shock and went straight on to the hope part of the news. Not Giles’s, so maybe Buffy’s? Even though it still made no sense, it really did. In Buffy’s mind at least.

“Okay, so Giles isn’t a daddy. We can deal.”

He mentally groaned at her euphoric expression, hoping she was going to be as happy about the rest.

“She’s part garaqua demon.” He waited, watching as Buffy’s smile continued to beam at him, and then he saw the exact moment that his words filtered through her planning and made impact.

“Huh?” The smile had slipped, but hadn’t turned into a frown exactly. “My little girl’s a what now? And you did say part demon, right? So, does she still have a soul? Of course she has a soul. I would have been able to feel it if she didn’t. I would have had my spidey sense sending me up the wall and wanting me to kill. Nope, my baby is all with the soul-having. Phew. Okay, so what do you know about these types of demons?”

Spike was speechless as he just stared at his mate, then threw caution to the wind and smashed his lips to hers. His respect for the Slayer just grew even more as she kept her calm and seemed to have accepted within herself the changes that had been thrust upon her life.

It was a kiss that cemented their relationship.

“Buffy, thank you. Thank you for being okay.”

Her smile was watery as she held his eyes, feeling the settling on her heart that this was real, her family had found her and she didn’t need to go through anymore trauma of searching them out. Of risking her heart in hopeless relationships for a year or more and then found it went nowhere. She could already tell that this was it. This was forever. Now that she had it, the trick was to understand it. But what a relief that Giles had no claim to the baby, ‘cause boy that could have been messy.

“Okay, so we’re mommy and daddy to a baby half-demon. Give me the skinny. What kind is she again?”

“Garaqua. Water demon. Not sure exactly of all her talents.”

“But she somehow picked us as parents? Wow, that’s some kind of talent! Okay then.” She screwed up her eyebrows in deep thought and Spike started to get nervous. Couldn’t bode well for him when she started looking like she was thinking of the best way to kill something.

Then her face cleared and Spike was left with the feeling that he had been blessed with the sun and life and love and everything that made existence more than tolerable. More than astounding.

“Guess where we are?” she asked as she started bouncing on the bed in excitement. “We are in Giles’s, the land of endless books. Research party!” she exclaimed before launching herself back into his arms. “As soon as I’ve seen to that lip.”

There was only one response. As their explanation hit a silent room, the dinner guests dwelled on it for a few short moments before the slow swell of hysterical laughter filtered through their shock. Xander felt it build in his throat, a soft burst of a giggle at first, but then it got louder as he watched Buffy’s straight face get even straighter. Until he reeled it in and looked at his heroine in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious. Her mother? You? And the Bleached No-Bite Wonder? With the family jingles and the supersafe mobile. Doing the family thing for Christmas and the easter bunny and why aren’t you laughing and shouting APRIL FOOL!!! ‘Cause the Xan-man knows, you just can’t be serious.”

All eyes watched him as his hilarity imploded and he started looking between them all frantically. “She’s kidding, right? Come on, guys, it’s a joke.” He succumbed to his burst of disbelieving laughter again even as he saw the lack of humour on the faces around him.

He didn’t even take notice as Spike began to growl and take up a protective position beside his mate, looking at her friend with anger and distrust.

“That is so—“ But Willow was interrupted before she could express a complete thought.

“Congratulations,” gushed Anya. “I didn’t even notice she was Garaqua. You are truly blessed.” The ex-vengeance demon jumped from her chair and rushed around the table to envelop the blonde couple in a hug. “Its just…so beautiful. Wow!” she exclaimed while taking a step back from them, looking deeply into their eyes and then smiling widely. “I haven’t seen this happen since 1542 when the last soulless vamp mated with a Slayer and became protectors and parents to a half-garaqua child. It’s truly beautiful to see it again.”

Everyone was stunned into silence.

And Xander’s hyena laugh started up again until Willow punched him hard in the arm.

“Shoosh,” she hissed. “They’re not joking, and Anya’s being scarily forthcoming with the information. Could cut research time and get you some more pizza while it’s hot.”

Buffy was staring at Anya with a watery smile. “There was another? So, this isn’t that unusual?”

“Did you listen to that date? 1542 hardly makes this usual. It certainly isn’t common, but it HAS happened before.”

“Pffft, I’m so with the forgetting the dates part of this revelation and sticking to the bit where you know what the hell is going on. Tell us, please?” Buffy grasped Anya’s hands and dragged her over to the sofa, the newly humanised demon looking over to Xander with a huge smile on her face and pointing to her hand holding with Buffy.

“See Xander, she likes me. I can be friends with them. They can accept me.”

Buffy flashed annoyed eyes at her friend who was standing as still as possible so that hopefully everyone would forget he was there so he could gather his head around the odd occurrences of the night.

“Huh? You told your girlfriend we wouldn’t accept her?”

“NO! N-not really, no. I’ll sit down and have some pizza. Over here while my girlfriend tells you all about the freaky Slayer/Vamp matings and weird parent selection thingy. Hmmm, yummy pizza.” And he shoved a large slice as far into his mouth as he dared.

“So, with this thing. The vampire and the Slayer…wow. Did a Slayer really mate with a vampire?”

“Oh, that’s happened often. I’ve only heard once about a garaqua baby choosing their parents, though. That’s quite rare, but very special.”

“Yeah, we got the special. How ‘bout enlightenin’ us on the why? How might be a tad useful, too.” Spike sat on the arm of the couch beside Buffy and felt himself warm as she leaned back and rested her arm on his thigh.

“Oh, of course. Garaqua demons can pass easily for humans, and on the odd occasion I have heard of them leaving the sea long enough to mate with a human. Only a human female, though. Otherwise the offspring can be all kinds of mixed up in the sexual organs department. Not pretty.” She screwed up her face in a pretty obvious non-verbal ewwww before she could continue. “So, no human man has ever been with a garaqua female that I’ve ever heard of. Anyway, I have only heard about it once, like I said, of a half-demon’s mother dying and the baby choosing her maternal replacement. I have no idea about Giles’s lady friend, but if she has deserted the baby, then Lia would know and would then choose her new parents.” Anya sat back with a satisfied grin on her lips, obviously thinking she was finished as the fountain of knowledge for the night.

“So, it’s permanent then? We’re ‘er parents for good?” Spike could feel himself so close to having everything he could ever possibly want—a wife that loved him, a beautiful daughter. As long as fate didn’t decide to knock him for six and take it all away again.

“Oh absolutely. Very permanent. Of the forever variety, unless you both are deadbeat alcoholic parents that couldn’t care less for the welfare of your own child.” She said the alarming statement with a happy grin and Buffy didn’t know whether to laugh, or plead forgiveness from Xander. Judging by the choking sounds she could hear off to her side, she was really leaning toward the begging for forgiveness angle.

“Right. So, cut back on the booze? That’ll be a bloody wrench, but I s’pose it could be done.”

“That’s the spirit,” enthused Anya as she leaned over and patted the neutered vamp on the arm.

“So, tell me what she’s like? What can she do? And what do you mean of the forever variety?”

“Her demon traits? Well, number one thing you’ll want to know—“ Anya got to her feet and walked over to where Lia was playing on a play gym on the carpet. She picked her up and cooed at her while looking into her eyes.

“She has her soul, but I’m sure you could sense that.”

Everyone in the room noticed Buffy’s relieved slump into Spike’s body and Xander shoved another slice of pizza past his teeth in order to keep his mouth too occupied to shove more feet into it.

“As for the forever thing, well surely you knew that mating with a vampire would make you Immortal.”

Stunned uncomfortable silence kept an edge in the room, seemingly sucking out all the air. And then Xander’s cackle started up again.

Buffy was bright red, shaking as she sought Spike’s hand and squeezed it hard, not even feeling the bone snap as he growled low in his throat.

“Did you know about this?” she asked, tears already breaking the barrier at her eyes to slide like shimmering crystal down her face.

“Never heard of a vamp claimin’ a human, let alone a Slayer, pet. Had as much of a clue as you what would happen.”

Xander’s laugh had petered out on a miserable cry.

“You guys aren’t kidding, are you? Buffy, are you insane? You mated with the blond freak?”

“Shut up, Xander,” hissed Willow as she watched the play of emotions on Buffy’s face. Mixed with the horror of being different to what she’d been days ago was the beginnings of extraordinary happiness at being with a man, or at least a vamp, that she was experiencing strong emotions for.

“Well, it wouldn’t have happened if she was just human. But she’s a Slayer, and her power comes from something of an Immortal strain. No one actually knows what happens to Slayer’s if they make it beyond their twenties. They could be Immortal anyway for all we know. But now, she can’t be killed by normal means.”

Anya hadn’t even been looking at them, still busy talking baby language with the beauty of flailing chubby arms and legs that she continued to hold in her arms.

“Okay, now little Ophelia—and that is such a beautiful name, oh yes it is—won’t stay dark. Already you can see that her skin and hair is lightening. My guess is she’ll end up blonde.”

“Oh,” said Willow, taking up the researchy interest of the gang while Giles was far from the event. “That’s really kind of cool. So, she looks demon all the time? Or is there something we should be aware of?”

“Well, there is the colour she goes when she’s in cold water.”

Buffy and Spike looked at each other and mouthed ‘cold water’ before shooting interested glances back at their baby and Anya. “She’ll go a pretty dappled silver colour. It’s really quite gorgeous, but it might be kind of a downside when she goes swimming with friends. However, Spike might be able to teach her how to control her demon and how much of it comes out in response to cold water when she’s a bit older. I would recommend that, actually. Spike seems very good at controlling his demon—moreso than other vampires I’ve met—so I think it should all be pretty easy for you to handle. Oh, and you might not want to get her too mad or scared.”

Xander looked scared suddenly, and his mouth still stuffed with pizza was to prove no impediment. As food fell out of his mouth and to the floor, he asked, “Why? What’ll she do?”

“Oh, nothing for you to worry about honey, but Spike might need to take some earplugs around with him. She has this high-pitched cry, almost like a whale but at supersonic levels. If you are exposed to it for too long it might make your head explode.”

Buffy gasped in horror. “Oh my God!”

“It’ll be fine, just take precautions like I said. Anything else you need to know because Xander has nearly eaten all the pizza?”

Buffy shook her head in a daze, held her arms out for her daughter and watched as Anya bounced over to the table and commandeered her own slice of cheesy goodness.

Her daughter. She was a mommy. Her mom was a grandma. “Oh God, I have to call my mom. And Giles. What are we gonna do about Giles?”

“Might be an idea to let the poor bugger know that his woman has been having some fun with demons. Other than that, the git’s a granddad. He’ll deal. So long as he doesn’ expect us to pay back all that money.”
Buffy’s eyes bugged as she did a quick tally of how much money they’d already spent on setting Lia up.

“Oh boy. Spike, you need an income.”

“Yeah, Spike,” Xander yelled, already claiming his third slice of pizza. “Get a job, bloodsucker.”

And the weirdness just climbed up another notch.

“Don’ need a blood job. Need a bleeding shovel so I can smack you in the mouth.” And everyone just grinned as Xander spluttered and lost more of his prized pizza.

A/N...don't know if I will get another chapter up before I go away but leaving for a week to stay with my non-Buffy understanding family. But will have more when I get back...

Chapter seventeen (b)


Buffy grinned as Spike continued to stare forlornly at Giles’s hidden stash. Bottle after beautiful bottle mocked him, but he sucked it up. Slammed the cabinet door closed as he resolved to be the best damn vampire dad that was demonly possible.

“An’ what ‘xactly has you resembling a hyena?” he grumped at an ebullient Buffy, letting his eyes fall from her lips to her lush cleavage bulging out the top of her shirt. He licked his lips in hunger then groaned as Lia cried out her lack of humour at being left to play on the floor mat alone.

“Sodding kids, trying to spoil dad’s fun.” He swooped down and snapped her up, rocking her happily around the room until he saw Buffy—still grinning—but now with tears in her eyes. “You are one strange bint, you know. One minute smiling like you owned a chocolate factory—”

“Ice-cream,” Buffy interrupted and Spike rolled his eyes while simultaneously clenching his jaw.

“An’ the next you’re all with the weepy eyes. Give a bloke a break, yeah?”

“Nah uh. I like you all nice and unbroken. Much better to have fun with when little people are all tucked in for the night.

He couldn’t help it. Spike’s eyes glazed over in remembrance of some of their other little exploratory moments together. He was about to enforce bedtime for babies when the phone rang. He groaned again and went to slump in the armchair, holding and cooing to Lia while he let Buffy answer it. As far as he knew, none of his mates were aware where he was, let alone could be bothered with using phones to reach him.

“Hello.” Chirpy Buffy was something to behold, and Spike couldn’t get over just how much of the holding he’d been permitted so far. He couldn’t help letting his gaze wander sensually over her body either, smiling excitedly when he looked down to find Lia conveniently asleep. He quickly deposited her upstairs and raced back down to see to his girl, the hardness in his pants ruling out anything else around him till he could get some kind of satisfaction.

Vamp speed was a virtue as he deposited his bundle and made it back to Buffy’s pelvis before she’d even managed to begin her conversation. Experienced fingers unlatched her pants and he quickly tugged them down to her ankles, removing her shoes and clothing before he could register her gulp and frantic eyes as her hand beat ineffectually around his head. Before she could squeak out an excited ‘Hi mom,’ he had his face happily nestled in her pussy and his tongue securely curled around her clit.

Her knees collapsed and his back hit the floor with Buffy writhing over his lips, his hands holding her hips in position as he licked and sucked her to a bucking frenzy. She reefed the receiver away from her mouth as her quiet whimpers exploded into a gutsy moan. Spike chuckled as he heard her gasp for breath and try to talk at the same time.

“So sorry, mom. I thought I was going to drop something.”

And Spike tickled her pussy lips with his tongue as his hands slipped his own zipper down. He moved under her body until she was sitting a hairsbreadth from his cock. He lifted her up fractionally and rubbed the length of himself against her slit, and behind, ripping open the front of her shirt and taking pains to undo the not so secure bra that barely kept her enclosed.

Her voice was weak as she spoke to someone. Spike was too out of his mind with lust to listen much to what was happening, but he liked how little control she had in pushing him away or keeping herself strong in the semi-presence of others. He felt flooded with even more power as he felt Buffy’s hips begin to swivel and rub against his erection of her own accord, her hand bracing against his chest as the other grasped helplessly at the phone.

“M-mom? I have some great news for you? You’re a grandmother.”

Buffy felt the tingle in her breasts as Spike sunk his fangs beside one nipple, slurping noisily as his tongue did a rapid flick over the nipple. Buffy leaned further forward, eager to let his tongue worship her as the move opened her up for another invasion. She couldn’t help the way her mouth hung open as she screamed internally, trying to not betray her actual activity while she was on the phone to her mother. She knew what she was doing was way far in the column of bad, but she just couldn’t control herself around Spike.

“Buffy…I really think it might have been more tasteful for you to have waited till I was at home before telling me you were pregnant. You’ve just started college, you’re nineteen, and what were you thinking?”

What Buffy was thinking didn’t bear mentioning to her mother, not while her pussy was spread and Spike was slipping his cock into her inch by delicious life expanding inch. The sensation set her whole body on fire, made goose of her flesh as she wriggled and slid against his length before he could settle her into any kind of incomprehensible rhythm.

“Um…not…not with the pregnant…being…mom. I’m the Chosen one…think…I’d ever have anything…the conven…tional way?”

That tingle that was always present when she was on top was already driving her out of her mind, and Spike was making it worse by winding the phone cord around her breast and rubbing it erotically against her sensitive nipple.

“Buffy, what on earth is wrong with you? Your voice is all funny and you aren’t making any sense.” Buffy could hear the confusion in her mother’s voice, but wasn’t in any position to do anything about making it less so. Just as she was about to answer, Spike flicked her clit and she had to bury the receiver against her belly, all her flesh feeling the explosion from within as she moaned long and loud.

Buffy could feel Spike already on the move, feral in his desperation to maximise her pleasure while bringing about his own. She had to hurry this conversation before her mother realised exactly what was going on.

“Sorry, Mom. Was just…um…trying to be quiet because of the baby.” After the pregnancy comment, Buffy was praying to someone pretty high up that her mother would be too distracted by the real words coming out of her mouth rather than the noises.

Spike was positioning her on her knees and Buffy’s eyes flew wide open. This was new and felt mega on the yummy scale.

“Look mom, gotta go. Lia—that’s your granddaughter’s name by the way—is waking up and I have to go see to her. I’m staying at Giles’ so call me when you get back, ‘k?”

She waited for no answer, slamming the phone down just as Spike stretched her boundaries once again and filled her all the way up. Buffy was consumed with the deliciousness of feeling him this way, not even slightly embarrassed that her ass was waving in the air or that he just managed to sink his fangs into one of her fleshy globes. It was just wild. Giles left her to babysit a babysitting vamp and all she’d done was experience new thing after new.

The squirt of cold liquid over her lower back was a surprise, but then Spike began to sensually rub it into her skin, all the while thrusting his cock in time with the pulse of her slippery walls. When a finger approached her other hole, she arched her back, ready to pull away. His arm tight around her waist prevented the move, and as his finger sunk inside her, she was suddenly grateful that vamp strength pretty much equalled her own.

He seemed content with what he was doing, and Buffy used her hands and knees to move herself against him, loving the feel of him as her suction slowly released him and then received him back faster than she could expand. The steady rocking turned into a somewhat more violent slam, pointy digit removed from her behind as his middle finger sought forward and began massaging her clit.

That crippling hunger to come began to take over and her body tensed waiting. She couldn’t believe how good it felt to be in this situation; to be in this position with her formal mortal enemy, now lover and mate.

She couldn’t be happier, revelling in the swell and bulging pulses of Spike’s cock inside her as he began to come, finding her own release connected with his and succumbing to the carnal cries of ‘Spike’ right as a key released a lock and Giles was framed in the darkened doorway.

“Oh dear Lord.”

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Angel felt overcome by the stench about five metres from the doorway. When Giles opened the door, stopping and blocking the majority of the view, the sweet scent of Buffy’s sex permeated the courtyard and it nearly knocked him off his feet. The actual vision of his love on her knees and being pounded from behind succeeded where before grim determination had kept him upright. So, as Giles did his exclaiming and Buffy gasped for breath, Spike waved around his glistening cock and smirked at the sight of his grandsire planted firmly on his soulful ass on the doormat.

It took Buffy a little longer to notice her audience at the door, leaning back in repletion and curling her arm around Spike’s neck, pulling his lips to hers as she arched up and her heavy breasts jutted out proudly from her chest. Both interlopers felt their eyes fixated on the sight, both alarmed and confused as to how such a slight girl with not much to be stuffing into her shirt once could now boast a very impressive set of…

“Oi, get your bloody perverted eyes off my girl.”

And the moment was broken, the magic rapidly receding for Buffy as she squealed and dived under Spike’s duster, grateful for its closeness to the phone. She almost strangled her body as she tightened it around herself. Spike stood slowly, and despite the shining fluid that clung to his cock and his proud display of the fact, as well as his semi-hard predicament, he didn’t rush to cover up even one inch of his flesh. Instead, he grabbed up his pack of cigarettes and played with it while absently looking for where his jeans ended up.

“Wh-what’s the meaning of this?” Giles spluttered, trying desperately to shield and divert his eyes from soft skin and visions of succulent nubile flesh he wanted desperately to burn from his brain. Even if one of those was rather, fetching. He shuddered just admitting such a thing, knowing that it was by far something he shouldn’t have seen and he would be scarred forevermore because of it.

Angel stepped around the watcher and suddenly filled the silence. Buffy’s eyes widened and Spike could feel a growl clawing at his throat. His overbearing grandsire was looking at her, and instead of the apologetic, confused and terrified looks he had expected from Buffy on seeing her great love again—and while completely in the raw—he felt more than relieved at her stance of carefree nonchalance.

Angel flipped Spike’s denims from the floor with his foot, hitting the bleached vamp squarely in the chest. Buffy rushed forward and held her lover around the waist as he pulled the stiff material back over his hips, re-catching the zip as he leaned back into his girl.

Firmly shut away, both parties were now at least decent, and Spike couldn’t help the smirk that grew at the twin looks of disappointment on the other men’s faces. He linked his fingers with Buffy’s as her little hands dug into his waist.

“So, how was your trip, Rupert?” he goaded, almost positive that nothing he’d learned in his travels could compare to the visual that he was trying to avoid even now.

The watcher looked at Spike dumbfounded, speechless as the realities of what he’d just seen continued to buzz behind his eyes and he forgot what the vampire was even doing in his house. Then a baby cried out and it all came flooding back to memory, and the presence of Angel right beside him came filtering back.

“Oh yes, yes…of course. O-Olivia, yes…well. Where do I start?”

“She’s not your baby…” The truth burst past Buffy’s lips before she could stop it and Spike could feel the nervous shake of her body as she fell even deeper into his.

“Er…quite…that would…um…appear to be exactly the case. Perhaps, Buffy, you wouldn’t mind getting dressed and then we can discuss the matter clearly and with no further…” He seemed incapable of coming up with the correct words, taking off his glasses and waving them around his room indiscriminately and indicating nothing. He felt so guilt ridden that the sight of her and what he had just walked in on was more than distracting to him.

Spike stifled a roar of entertainment, feeling amusement at the older man’s embarrassment even as he sucked up the seething jealousy that flowed from his grandsire. He could feel Buffy’s heat all the way through his leather and he decided she needed help or she’d never get dressed so they could get this show on the road.

Spike anticipated a boatload of fun.

He turned around and let a hand snake under his coat, staring happily at her as she watched the confounded faces behind her. When Spike’s cool palm cupped her mound, a finger breaching in public a place he really shouldn’t, Buffy was too intrigued yet terrified to move and show the others exactly what was going on. Spike found her clit as he held her closer, letting his body shield her where the leather gaped open.

Her shocked gaze suddenly found his and he could feel the tightening of her body and he couldn’t release the grin. He was so bad, and he knew it. Evil, yadda yadda. But it was beyond time his nancy lightweight grandsire knew the score, and the score was Angel: 0 and Spike: homerun. Buffy’s lips latched hard to his, making garbled noises into his mouth while her body blew a fuse and melted into his hand.

“Best do as the Watcher says, luv. Can sort this situation out proper and get on with our lives, yeah?” Spike felt infused with happy pheromones as his mate nodded her head and pattered up the stairs on shaky legs, holding her leather protection around herself tightly.

Spike did nothing to hide his increasing erection as he stood in front of Angel and Giles, knowing that the elder vampire could smell what he’d just been up to and that it made him actually turn a subtle shade of green.

Okay, his day had started out bloody marvellous and it certainly wasn’t going downhill at all. He was winding himself up to begin all sorts of tactical games that would turn the house into an uproar when Buffy reappeared nursing their baby.

Their little girl.

And something akin to maturity and conscience came crashing down hard on his head. With a deep sigh of futility, Spike made his way over to his little family and enclosed them in the circle of his arms. With a wary look at the brooding git still standing frozen in the open doorway, Spike turned Buffy away and gently pushed her to the sofa. As she settled, Lia started to fuss, nudging intently at Buffy’s hardened and bulging breasts.

The visitors had made it around to the other side of the couch just as Buffy undid her top and placed an engorged nipple in the tot’s mouth. Spike sat back, proud with his legs sprawled and making not even the slightest move to quell his erection. It tented his pants and Buffy was oblivious as Angel watched, mouth hanging open in shock and Giles took a seat with a few mumbled ‘my lord’s’ and an avid act of glasses polishing.

“Well, that’s rather surprising,” proclaimed Angel, and Buffy couldn’t help think how very much like Xander he sounded.

“Yeah, we were pretty much with the shocked, too,” Buffy confirmed blissfully. There was a tingle in her belly—a feeling that wasn’t completely new since she had suddenly been provided with the means to feed her daughter—one that made Buffy fervently wish Giles hadn’t come home yet.

She knew it was probably unreasonable. It wasn’t like she and Spike didn’t get it on at every possible chance, but she knew that once this feeding was over, her libido would be clawing at her for some kind of conclusion to the stimulation. Oh well, no point being shy about it now.

She was blocking out the fact that her Watcher and first love had probably seen her ass high in the air, but the rest, she’d kind of lost any prudish inhibitions when it came to her need. It was like something else had taken over and if she needed it, then she had to have it. Damn the consequences. Buffy wasn’t ready yet to admit whether Spike was a positive or a negative in that regard. The jury was still out.

“M-my understanding is…” began Giles, replacing the glasses to an eyeful of Slayer breast and quickly whipping them off again and looking around the room. “I’m not sure if this is absurd or divine. I take it, the baby has chosen?”

Buffy was enthusiastically nodding her head, but her watcher’s eyes were aimed at Angel, his own chocolate gaze hazed over with obvious lust. Buffy jumped at the growl that erupted from Spike’s throat as he sat forward, offering a little protection by being ready to pounce.

“Might be nice if you could aim the questions at us, and not the Poof. We lived it while you went gallivanting who knows where lookin’ for a woman who couldn’t even lie straight.” Spike aimed a curled lip of derision at his elders, in human years as well as vamp. He knew that Buffy respected them both, cared about them both, but he was buggered if he could work out why.

“Er, er quite right, yes. You’ve…” Giles waved his hand around absently, seemingly encompassing everything and everyone in his living room unintentionally. “Lived it. I see. And, what exactly do you think you know about the situation.”

Spike began to revert to his natural features, snarling at the sarcasm revealing that the ponce thought they were juvenile idiots. Spike was willing to bet that’s why King Ponce himself was now situated with a birdseye view of his mate’s unmentionables.

“For the last time, get your whorin’ eyes off my bird’s tits before I put my fist through your fucked-up Neanderthal-like skull.” He glared hard with a century full of hatred and Angel defied his wishes.

Spike felt himself light up as his body flushed with fury. He was livid. Instead of recognising the bastard had nothing left with Buffy, he openly gawked at her exposed breast. He was about ready to jump to his feet and assert his place by her side with fists and fangs, when she giggled.

“Oh, Spike,” she moaned then, imploring him to do something fast even as she was ripping the clothing from her neglected breast and showing them all the droplets of milk that spilled over.

He knew what she was after, and before the others could shut their gobs and think of anything intelligent to say, he shouted them to get out and his cool mouth had seized her half down his throat and he sucked her hard. Her lusty moan told everyone in the room that Spike wasn’t just postulating. What he was protecting was his and it better be hands and eyes off in future, or there could be a few spares floating down the river.

Buffy released some tantalising little whimper/moan combination and arched up into Spike’s mouth, frantic for more of his touch. The obvious lack of control was startling, but the growls that tore from Spike’s throat at their audience and Buffy’s distressed whimpers did what the act hadn’t been able to. It was finally the impetus to have Giles and Angel bolt from their seats. With over loud calls of their intention to return within half an hour, they left the oblivious pair to their heavy petting, desire the last thing that any of them knew as they escaped into the relative safety of night.
They didn’t match. Whatever the venue, they would always look out of place together. Whether nursing a mug of coffee or a shot of spirits, lager of choice, it would always look comical to the observer.

Giles recognised this and cringed. It wasn’t something he’d ever thought of before, never having been out in a social situation with the souled vampire anytime that he could remember. But here he was, chased out of his own bloody flat by his slayer and her apparent vampire lover while they effectively mauled each other at every possible opportunity. Now stuck nursing a cup of some infernal American concoction of coffee when he’d much rather his rum flavoured tea in his own home.

Giles sighed and then looked hard at his companion. Suddenly the implications hit him and he choked on his coffee.

“Er, right. Have an explanation, do you?” He tried not to look at the other too closely, deftly avoiding the vampire’s eyes as he glanced around at the other inhabitants of the shop.

“Yeah, actually, think I do. Firstly, Buffy had huge…I mean, she seems to have grown…that is—”

“Yes, Buffy would appear to be lactating. But how is that possible?” Giles was still refusing eye contact, studying his coffee cup intently as if it had the power to unravel the mystery.

“Lactating. And then there’s the…” Angel was quite seriously at a loss for words. When Giles had rocked up on his doorstep asking for help and information, he never thought it would be possible to find his reunion with Buffy beginning with a very plain view of her being humped by one of the most evil vampires—aside from Angelus—that Angel had ever known. Almost sheepish, Angel ducked his own eyes and admitted internally that Spike wasn’t quite that, but he was without doubt the most irritating, and now he seemed to have Angel’s girl. Fury began to well up, and then the situation reasserted itself in his attention and he sucked in a deep, almost soothing gasp of air. Things had progressed and it was just too late. He’d seen the marks, saw the way Buffy had been reacting to Spike. Whatever Angel had had with the Slayer had died a very sudden death with whatever situation had progressed in Giles’ absence.

“Would you be referring to the rather blatant lack of respect for my property with the…” Giles waved his hand around in agitation, searching for the right word. “Sex.”

The word seemed to surge through the coffee shop like a bomb blast. The reactions were devastating and Giles buried his even closer to the table. He felt shamed and tried to pretend that he would never see any of these people again, nor would he ever be seen in public with Angel again for as long as he breathed.

“Um, yeah. Kinda seemed as if they were acting like they were newly mated.” As creaturey of the night as Angel was, he nearly jumped out of his skin as a jet of hot coffee came spewing at his perfectly styled hair. He jumped to his feet and thanked vamp speed for getting him out of the line of fire. Cordelia would have a fit if he came home looking like a hobo. Or even smelling like one.

The chair was ruined. Angel eyed it warily, almost as if he could still get splattered with it if he took his eyes off it for too long. Carefully choosing a chair right next to Giles, he sat and then wondered why the other man was looking almost scared as he abruptly shifted his own chair back a bit.

“M-mated you say,” Giles confirmed, his face suddenly draining of all colour.

“Yeah, and the lactating and the togetherness…I’m guessing the baby picked them as parents. Your Slayer is a mom. Congratulations, pappa Watcher.” With an uncharacteristic grin, Angel started tapping his fingers on the formica in front of him and waited for Giles to gain some momentum.

“Oh dear Lord.”

“Another thing,” Angel decided to add. “I wouldn’t attempt to spend too much time around a newly mated couple, or you’re likely to see a hell of a lot more than what we did earlier.”

“Oh good God.”

And Giles’s head finally made it the final distance and banged hard onto the table.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Buffy and Spike sat staring at the little bundle of satisfied baby, intent and serious as they contemplated their behaviour of late.

“Do you—” began Buffy, biting her lip nervously as she refused to look away from the baby. The last thing she needed right now were Spike’s hypnotic blue eyes convincing her to lay Lia down to play while they conducted themselves in another act of passion. “Do you think we might be…I mean, maybe…”

“Corruptin’ the bit?” Spike interrupted, nodding sagely while he traced a finger down the plump little cheek. His daughter was getting paler. He could see the lighter colour of her skin and her hair was now a dark brown rather than black, but still curly, and still with the gorgeous blue eyes.

“Oh no, you really think so?” Buffy was watching him now, her bottom lip wobbling at the thought that her efforts at being a responsible, mature mother might be a little off.

“Nope. Bettin’ you don’t remember a thing of when you were the same age. ‘Sides, in’t natural? I’d think after normal parents find themselves with a new one in the home, quiet, personal moments would be few and far between.”

He seemed to pause in thought, then looked back at Buffy with his usual leer strongly in place while he peered at her sparsely covered breasts. “An’ I’m thinkin’ whatever high horse seeing us in the buff knocked Angelus off, has got to be worth it. Trust me, Lia will agree when she’s old enough. If she was suitably scarred by us, an’ needs some kind of explanation of course. Otherwise, I don’t see any need to alter the way of things.”

Again he paused, a sense of apprehension settling between his eyes by way of a wrinkle. “Unless you’re not happy with things, that is.”

Buffy was shocked at the short episodes of insecurity that Spike occasionally revealed. It was too cute, that little boy look of worry. She just loved him, and was beyond happy with the arrangement as it stood. And very strangely, all that angst that had been preoccupying her life before Lia landed on their doorstep, all that love that Buffy had resolutely hung onto with a deathgrip, seemed to have evaporated on seeing Angel in the doorway. If she hadn’t been sure before, she was beyond so now. Spike was her mate, Lia was their child, and she so had to get a degree and work out how they were going to support themselves. But for now…

“Oh, I’m happy. I’m huge with the happy.” And she giggled as Spike’s whole countenance changed. Master vamp with an inferiority complex one second to sexy vamp with a cocky grin and a raised eyebrow the next. It made Buffy’s eyes sparkle and her body tingle.

Spike eyed her up and down, using looks rather than words to inspire that flush of heat that took over all Buffy’s rational thought.

“So, pet. When the two gramps get back, you wanna take Lia out for a little fresh night air? We could pass by somewhere and pick up those earplugs Anya warned us about.”

Buffy’s eyes went huge. “Oh God, yes. We can’t have Lia getting scared and making your head explode. I am way too young to take on the responsibility of single-parenting on my own. You are so not going to dust on me, Mister.” And she pouted.

Spike contemplated taking his baby and depositing her somewhere safe before he took to ravishing Buffy once again, and then the earlier conversation kicked in and he shook himself of all carnal thoughts. Well, some at least. The others would just have to wait.

“I suggest we get all prepared with baby bags and such. Can’t think the little voyeurs will be gone for long. Can you imagine those two out on a date together?” They caught each other’s eyes and shuddered at the thought.

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