Author: ghostyouknow27
Rating: R, mostly for swearing and violence
Summary: Begins at the start of Season 7, but immediately goes AU. Buffy gets pregnant with Spike’s baby, and it fixes everything that’s wrong in their relationship. Don’t try to figure out any timelines, because they won’t fit.
Disclaimer: Characters and settings belong to Joss Whedon. The prose and plot are my own.
Word Count: Around the 37,450 mark
WARNING(S): There’s not much violence in this fic, but what’s there involves a baby. That’s right, a baby. Also, don’t expect too much happy mushiness. This is Pregnancy-With-Minimal-Plot and does involve consensual non-sex, naughty words and the author’s rather sick sense of humor. Uh, enjoy?
Thanks to slaymesoftly, who helped me polish this baby into something less monstrous. :-)
This Be the Verse 7/9
Giles waved his book in an uncharacteristic show of triumph. “I do believe I’ve found good news!”
Buffy blinked. Good? How good? Boy-the-dewey-decimal’s-fun good? Because she and Giles? Not always with the agreement.
She eased back into the couch cushions, trying to ignore Dawn, whose sharp elbows threatened the painful possibility of bone-to-rib impact. She caught Willow’s wince on the other side of the Dawn-sandwich and flinched in sympathy.
Giles had taken an armchair, while Xander sat a little out of the way, on the floor. Spike leaned against the wall, apart from the rest, leafing halfheartedly through a book. Anya, though re-humanized, wanted no part of the group, or so Giles had said when Xander asked after her.
“I looked through some old Watcher’s diaries – specifically those from Watcher’s whose Slayers became pregnant,” said Giles.
Wasn’t the picket-fence lifestyle exactly what she had been asked to give up? “Is it a normal thing?” asked Buffy. “I thought Slayers were usually busy with, y’know, dying young.”
Giles hands twitched around his book, like his hands had moved to clean his glasses before remembering they were occupied. “There have been two in all recorded history,” he said. “In addition to yourself. A Slayer living in colonial Mexico and –” he glanced sidelong at Spike – “Nikki Wood.”
Buffy thought for a moment that Spike had stiffened. But on second look, he had all of the appearances of an indifferent slump. “So what’s the news?” he said, bitingly. “Their sprogs human?”
“As a matter of fact, they were,” said Giles. “But their children also had human fathers, so the situations aren’t entirely analogous. My good news is in regards to the Pursuers. Namely, that they were convinced that both Slayers were carrying their God. In fact, it rather seems that they’ve, well, pursued a number of pregnant women throughout the centuries. Witches and seers, for example, in addition to Slayers.”
Giles beamed, looking so pleased that Buffy felt bad for not understanding. She glanced at Spike again. The vampire looked thoughtful. But sometimes he wore that same expression when deciding between cinnamon-raisin and normal toast.
Xander raised his hand. “Color me confused, but how is this good?”
“Means they could be wrong about the kid,” said Spike, softly.
“So what if they can’t find Waldo?” said Dawn. “As long as they think Buffy’s carrying this Nameless God guy, they’re going to be chasing after her with horses and swords and stuff.” She raised her chin defiantly at the group’s discomfort. “It’s not like we don’t have experience with psycho medieval cults. The only way to stop them is to kill them. And, hey, these are just vamps, so who cares?”
Willow raised a hand to pat Dawn’s shoulder, then thought better of it. “We know, Dawn. We’re not trying –”
“And I know that they’re staying underground, in the remains of a temple somewhere on the outskirts of town,” Dawn interrupted. “My source said –”
“Your source?” snapped Spike in an abrupt change of mood. “That code for the vampire you snogged?”
Buffy took in Dawn’s flushed, angry expression and tried to come up with something, anything to say. She knew things weren’t resolved on the Dawn front, but public humiliation wasn’t exactly a winning tactic. And hey – what was this about snogging? Dawn hadn’t mentioned snogging! Not that she would, because, hey, American –
“Good God,” said Giles, aghast. “How could you be so stupid? So utterly, shamelessly foolish as to think that you had any business interacting with vampires for any reason, much less in pursuit of romantic entanglements?”
“Well, the monks made her out of Buffy,” said Xander. “Maybe the burning attraction to homicidal maniacs is part of their genetic code?”
Buffy made an unbelieving fish-face. Whose ex had just slaughtered a whole frat house, anyway? Though maybe that was the problem, and Xander was just lashing out, leaving it to her to, uh, be the better person. “Xander, I know this is tough right now,” she began.
“Lay off Buffy, you berk.” Spike was obviously operating on a less mature wavelength. “Not like you haven’t dated a demon or five.”
“Wow,” said Willow. “So this can go nowhere good.”
“A temple by the forest!” yelled Dawn.
Spike snarled, looking angrier than Buffy had seen him in awhile. “Think you’re so bleeding clever? You know how many things have been buried in this town? And with all your worrying about whether your vamp really liked you or not, you never considered that he might be playing you? You’re the Slayer’s sister for chrissakes! You think vamps can’t figure that out?”
“About that,” said Buffy. “You never mentioned liking this vampire! Dawnie, to him, you were dinner!”
Dawn’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t ever trust him. Not really. My sister’s pregnant with the spawn of her undead rapist. Do you really think I’d trust a vampire, ever?”
“Stop trying to make this about me,” said Buffy, anger flaring. “Or Spike. I’ve forgiven him, and we’re dealing. And if any of you have a problem with that speak up – no, you know what? Scratch that. Keep it to yourself.” She grabbed Dawn’s arm. “And you? If you’re not in class, you’ll be with one of us. No dates, no Janice, no sock hops –”
“We don’t even have a sock hop!”
“No nothing! Nothing except school! And homework! And staying in your room, where there will be no stupid attempts to kiss information out of vampires! And don’t you dare try to run away from me this time. We’re dealing with this.”
“No we’re not,” said Dawn. “I’m going to my room!” The teenager wrenched her arm free from Buffy’s grip and jumped to her feet.
***
Spike growled as Dawn ran past him, a whirling mass of feelings rushing and crunching and telling him that it was hopeless – and the rage was there, too, bubbling in his gut, furious that Dawn had risked herself, that she would hurt him like this, and that he deserved far worse.
Dawn was acting like a bitty Buffy – the bitter, half-dead Buffy that had crawled from the grave – whether she realized it or not. The only thing missing was a punch to his nose or a beat-down in a dirty alley.
“If she did uncover useful information –” ventured Giles.
“She didn’t,” said Spike. “Heard the same thing from some vamps at Willy’s. Didn’t check out.” He bobbed his head, exasperated. “Stupid chit risked her life for nothing.”
“And why were you checking things out alone?” asked Buffy. “These guys kidnapped you once already.”
Spike took up his own defense. “Just did a bit of poking around. I’d have gotten you lot if I’d seen anything worth mentioning. Didn’t. Pursuers might be shit at finding reborn gods, but they’re bloody good at staying under the radar. Haven’t even noticed more humans kicking it of late.”
He paused, wondering if murders were going unreported or if the monks had simply gone on a religious fast.
“Well, don’t do it again!”
Spike squinted at her. She’d asked him to use his contacts in the demon world, what little were left of them. What did she think that meant? Passing notes? Flashing a fang-shaped beacon?
“I’m not losing anyone this time, okay?” said Buffy. “We have to stick together. And – and not do stupid things and get killed!” To Spike’s anguished surprise, the Slayer promptly burst into tears.
Willow scooched across the couch to hug Buffy. ‘Hormones,’ she mouthed. Spike saw his own sudden, blessed understanding mirrored in the faces of his fellow males. He shifted on the balls of his feet, rolling his weight from toe to heel and back. Wanted to go to her. Knew it wouldn’t be welcome, not in front of the others.
“I’m sorry, guys,” sobbed Buffy. “These demon pregnancy hormones are making me such as a spaz, and Dawn, and we’re no closer to knowing anything!”
“Sure we are,” soothed Willow. “We know that the Pursuers have the worst track record ever ever. So the chances that they’re right about your baby being the Nameless God?”
“Zilch in goose egg,” supplied Xander. Looked like tears disarmed him, too.
Buffy eyes were wet, her nose red. Spike heard her elevated pulse, the faint whirring of Monster’s heartbeat. “But it’s still not normal, is it? I just woke up one day and it was there, and then it stopped growing until Spike – and I don’t even feel like myself – I want –”
She shot Spike a terrified, confused stare, one he never wanted to see on her again. “We’ll figure it out, Buffy,” he assured her. “Not like you can stay pregnant forever.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Buffy turned her face into Willow and resumed wailing. The redhead glared at him over the top of Buffy’s head.
“I have uncovered other research that gives me reason to hope, as well,” Giles said, after a long, awkward moment.
“Hope!” said Xander. “You hear that, Buffster? Giles is getting his hope on.”
“I wouldn’t quite use that phrase,” said Giles. “In fact, I wouldn’t use any of your phrases. But Buffy – there was another instance in which two vampires conceived a child.”
Spike reeled. “Don’t think so,” he said. “That would’ve been all over the demon community. Vampire having kids? It just isn’t possible.” His trailed off, a quick glance at Buffy confirming that a vampire fathering a child wasn’t as outlandish as he’d once believed. “Sorry, Rupert. Carry on.”
The Watcher gave him a cool look. “It was kept quiet. I only heard about it because I was desperate enough for answers to contact a rather – unrespectable – acquaintance.” For a second, Spike detected a bit of disdain on the Watcher’s part. “There are some differences. For example, the pregnancy developed at a normal rate. And physiologically, the female vampire remained unchanged –”
“So she drank blood, yeah?” asked Spike, cottoning on to what the Watcher was trying to tell Buffy.
“Yes, she remained a vampire. But she began to share the baby’s soul. I understand that she rather disliked the sensation.”
“Can’t see why,” sneered Spike. “Being crushed under centuries of guilt for things that seemed perfectly natural at the time – it’s a jolly old picnic.”
“And you, so undeserving.”
“And I bet she had the whole tummy force-field going on, too,” said Xander, interrupting Spike’s reply. He shrugged under the others’ stares. “Seems if someone’s going to sic a baby on a vamp, they’re going to make sure she can’t get rid of it. Otherwise, what’s the point? I mean, what vampire would want to keep a kid?”
“What vampire, indeed,” said Giles.
Spike glared at them both. He’d have wanted the kid even if he didn’t have his soul. It belonged to him, didn’t it? As much as any human being ever could. ‘Course, the better question was what kid would want a vampire for a parent Less than three decades, and they’d look like brothers. A few decades more, and his son would look older than him.
“And the baby?” asked Spike, impatiently.
“Human,” said Giles. “Completely.”
“Where’s it now?” asked Willow. “I mean, did it grow up and stuff?”
“My source refused to divulge anything about the identities of the vampires involved or the fate of the child. I believe he mentioned Brazil. In any case, I don’t believe he was lying to me.”
Xander eyed Buffy’s stomach. “So maybe I get to be Uncle Xand and not just a teething toy?”
Buffy extracted herself from Willow. “You said the baby shared its soul with its mother – could the opposite happen?”
“You mean, could you be sharing your soul?” asked Willow.
“No, I mean, remember my first roommate in college? And how I became totally bitchy Buffy? I haven’t been all rainbows and sunshine, lately.”
“I don’t think the child’s removing your soul, if that’s what you mean,” said Giles, gently.
Spike couldn’t let that one go. Ignoring the others, he moved across the room to kneel at Buffy’s feet, his hand seeking out and grasping her tiny fingers. “No, Buffy. You’ve been forced to carry a child by someone you don’t care for – you’ve every right to be less than glowing. Even pregnant women who asked for their lot get irritable, what with all those hormones whacking around their brains.”
Buffy’s fingers convulsed around his. “Spike –”
“‘Sides, I’ve been soulless, myself. Know the difference.”
Buffy’s eyes brimmed with something Spike feared to identify, and he stood up, backing away with unusual clumsiness. He bristled, trying to ignore the way the others looked at him. Like scum. Worse than.
Giles coughed deliberately. “We can’t know for sure about the child, as this is a unique case. But as much as we can’t assume that it’s not evil, it would be equally erroneous to assume that it is.”
“So we still don’t know,” sighed Buffy. “I’m kinda sick of square one. I’ve been seeing a lot of it lately.”
Spike knew the feeling. But he couldn’t dismiss good news – any good news – so easily. Made him feel like the kid he sometimes daydreamed of, the mop-top with the sweet smile and laughing eyes, was coming closer to reality.
“I can’t help but find this new information reassuring,” said Giles.
“I can,” said Buffy.
Spike tried to fend off Buffy’s unwitting blow. He knew she was mostly humoring him in naming the kid and discussing its future, that she couldn’t quite hope or trust like he could, and did, in spite of himself. But there was no way getting around the hurt.
Buffy straightened her shoulders. “I’m sorry, guys. I don’t mean to be Depresso! Buffy. Game plan?”
“We figure out where the Pursuers are, and then we kill them,” said Xander. “That much seems obvious.”
“I’ll continue my research,” said Giles. “Maybe a scrying spell would help us ascertain the cult’s location.”
“And you get some rest and eat healthy things,” added Willow. “Keep your strength up.”
Buffy paled. “Healthy things,” she echoed, voice just a bit too trill.
Spike saw Xander and Willow exchange puzzled glances. “Not too healthy,” scrambled Xander.“That’s an American boy you’re growing. Twinkies are alike mother’s milk, only less Freudian.” He frowned. “Or maybe more Freudian.”
Buffy seemed to come to herself. “Yeah, sure. Sorry, guys. I’m more tired than I thought. Can the research party go on without me?”
“Sure,” said Spike. “Get your ass to bed, Slayer.”
She left.
***
Spike followed Giles as he left the house, moving with the easy lope of a predator too confident to mind being seen. It was an illusion of course. He still had the chip, and the prey in question knew it had the upper hand. But tucking his tail in simply wasn’t Spike’s style.
He stepped in front of Giles, blocking the Watcher from reaching his car door. “No Scoobies listening in now, Watcher. Tell me the rest of it.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” said Giles, attempting to sidestep the vampire.
Spike let out a long, frustrated breath as he intercepted the Watcher’s move. “Look, Rupert,” he said, more serious and sincerely than he intended. “Know you’re keeping something from Buffy, and that it’s to do with the sprog. Maybe you’re protecting Buffy, but we both know you don’t give a toss about me. So tell me.”
“So you can use that information to hurt Buffy?” asked Giles, upper lip twisting. “I don’t trust you, Spike. I tolerate you, because Buffy wishes me to tolerate you. And it is my dearest hope that she’ll come to her senses in that regard.”
“She will,” said Spike, with certainty. “But not today, nor tomorrow. So tell me, how’s withholding going to help the girl, exactly?” He leaned casually against the car and fished his lighter from his pocket. “Tell me how keeping me in the dark, so to speak, will bring Buffy bliss, and I won’t breathe a word.”
“That vow means remarkably little,” said Giles, “coming from a creature that doesn’t breathe.”
Spike flicked his lighter on and off, curling his tongue under his teeth – yeah, so he’d been caught out on that one. But he sobered quickly, wondering what was so bad that Buffy couldn’t know it.
“You don’t get to decide what I need to know here,” Spike said, voice soft but determined. “Remember what I said before. If it’s not human, I’m going to make sure Buffy’s not the one to kill it.” He couldn’t quite keep his voice from wavering. “If you know that I’m going to have to slay my own, best you tell me now.”
The Watcher appeared unmoved. But words came out at a machine clip, and Spike felt the full of the blow. “My source reported that the vampire couldn’t birth the child,” said Giles. “And the protective barrier surrounding the fetus made surgery impossible. She staked herself to ensure its survival.”
Spike stopped breathing, then forgot he didn’t need air, and his diaphragm constricted and burned and he felt hollowed to a husk.
“Do you see, now, why I wasn’t quick to announce that lovely little tidbit? Buffy doesn’t particularly like being told when she’s sure to die, and I don’t particularly enjoy breaking the news to her.”
“No.” Spike shook his head, vehement. “Buffy’s not dying from this. She’s not a vampire – she’s a human woman. She’s built for birth as much as back flips.”
They could take precautions. Spike would monitor her heartbeat more closely than he did already. Rearrange his work schedule so he could watch her on patrol. Hell, he’d cook three-square to keep her strength up. Anything. Everything. He wouldn’t let his child be the end of her.
Giles looked older, more tired. “Perhaps you’re right. But it won’t help Buffy to know that the situation most closely paralleling her own resulted in the mother’s demise.”
Spike nodded. He could see the sense in that. And since Buffy wasn’t going to die, not from this, there was no point in worrying her. “Won’t mention it,” he said. “But we’re not finished. Gotta find a way to keep her safe.”
The Watcher’s lips formed a thin, humorless smile. He removed his glasses, polished them. Placed them back. “The first thing you learn as a Watcher,” he said, “Is that there’s no keeping a Slayer safe. Buffy is going to die. We can only hope that this time isn’t her time.”
Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/387311.html
