Sorry for the delay…this chapter turned out longer than I anticipated. Thank you, also, for the quick and numerous responses! Glad to entertain!
"What do you mean you're going out patrolling?" he demanded, visibly shocked by her casual declaration. "You're six and a half months pregnant. How on Earth are you going to fight?"
"Last time I checked this whole chosen thing doesn't have an expiration date and unless you think Faith can take over from prison you're stuck with me doing my job."
The blond looked at him and echoed his horrified look but for entirely different reasons. She was very aware of her condition and why he was being protective of her but she just couldn't understand his outburst. He was the one always stressing duty over personal circumstance and even sent her to die for it. Sure, they'd bent a lot of rules together and even incited a full scale rebellion against the Council but there was one thing she couldn't escape – her so called destiny.
"I won't allow it!" he burst out and then stopped short when he realized what he'd said.
"Allow?" she asked back. Her voice was colored with amusement rather than anger and she arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him. He backpedaled.
"It's dangerous. We cannot have anything happening to the baby. It's so close to term."
"Evil doesn't take a break. As it is I'll be out of commission for a month before and a month after the birth. I have Slayer healing and all but I'll need some time to rest.
"You want to go patrolling up to your eighth month?" he couldn't hide the disbelief in his tone. She stared at him, confused.
"Honestly, Giles, what would you do without me?"
"I don't aim to find out." He responded, his heart tightened.
"Look, Faith's only just now come back to the light. She's in prison paying her debts. It's just me for now."
"But the gang and I can…"
"Oh, please, Giles. You'll get yourself hurt and you don't heal like you used to when you were young."
It was her turn to pause and his turn to wince. There were only a few taboo subjects in their relationship and his age seemed to be turning into one of them. He was mortally afraid of being useless and not being able to care for a child. He didn't like to think about it but when his baby so close to being born but he had to admit his age. He'd only just turned 46 and by the time the baby was old enough to start school he'd be in his fifties. He shuddered to think how old he'd be when the child graduated high school, let alone when it started having children of its own.
"Yes, I'm aware, Buffy." He said patiently. "But we have little choice. I'll take Willow and Xander with me."
"I can't risk you guys."
"You'd rather risk the baby."
"Yes!" she stopped, frustrated, "No! That's not what I meant. There's no risk to the baby."
"Buffy?" His tone wasn't improving. It was rather skeptical. She sighed.
"I'm not gonna get my way here, am I?"
"Not even a little bit."
She sighed and threw herself down onto the couch. Her lover followed her with his eyes and felt like he'd let her down somehow. He couldn't tell her about his dream and upset her without cause, especially not in her delicate condition. He couldn't prove that it was only a dream and not something prophetic and couldn't risk losing her for the child's sake. It took him a moment to realize her gaze was throwing daggers in his direction and he looked up to meet them. Catching her stare head on wasn't any better. He almost shied away from it, feeling vulnerable.
"Buffy." He began, feeling his resolve almost crumbling against the weight of her being angry with him. They'd been angry at each other a lot in their long acquaintance and each felt the brunt of that anger from one side of the fence or the other at some point. Still, somehow they always managed to pick up the pieces and put them back together again.
"What?"
"If I go with you to keep an eye on you while you patrol will that be a sufficient compromise?"
He delighted at the grin that broke out over her face and she nodded. "Suits me!" she admitted, springing to her feet. He had to admit she was still fairly spry for being so far along in her pregnancy. They were even still making love though most books said she'd be too uncomfortable for the exercise. He was always gentle about it except when she urged him on with her small, pleading whimpers. Then he did his best to satisfy her whims. He suspected, though, that she'd soon get to that uncomfortable state and his fun would be over until after the child was born.
"Alright. Let me grab my jacket."
"It's March." She deadpanned. "In Sunnydale."
She herself was dressed in only a short sleeved top and a loose pair of pants. He shrugged and stripped off his collared shirt to the tee shirt underneath. He went upstairs and now her eyes followed his body. She silently condemned her hormones and trailed after him. She caught up to him in their bedroom with his pants off pulling a pair of jeans from the closet. Just now he was in only a pair of boxers and a tee shirt. He looked like he could have just come from bed. She gulped. She moved forward and he noticed her presence just in time to feel her arms around him and her lips meeting his own.
The jeans slipped from his nerveless fingers to the floor.
He returned her kiss eagerly, their small fight all but forgotten. He held onto her and relished the feeling. It was still novel to be able to hold her like this and not feel hesitant or afraid of repercussion. He kissed her with an unbridled passion that she returned eagerly enough. As her tongue slipped past his lips her hand strayed past the waistband of his boxers and he gave a low purr of approval. She took that as permission and grinned against his lips like a cat with cream and wrapped her hand around his already hard length. She drew her fingertips up over the silken skin. That drew an inarticulate sound of pleasure from him.
"Buffy." His voice sounded strained.
"Mm?" She did nothing more than tease his sensitive member with her soft hand until he thought he'd go mad from wanting her. He vaguely remembered something else he'd been ready to do…something that existed outside of his bedroom. His eyes strayed to the window in front of him to see the sun setting off in the distance. The sky was turning from the bright blue of day to the dulcet hues of twilight, bright pinks and oranges mingling with the darker blues of the oncoming night sky. Sunset, yes, that's what he'd forgotten! He pulled away from her body though it took a great deal of strength to do so.
"Buffy…patrolling? You were so adamant." He was breathing hard trying to will his body back into some semblance of order.
"I know." She pouted, reaching for him again. "But then you were up here and all sexy looking in your boxers and I just couldn't help myself." She pushed out her lower lip and raised her eyes up at him adorably. Rupert Giles thought he might die from the unbearable cuteness of it. She was even using her innocent voice, a little quieter and more childish than normal. Where Buffy could recognize any emotion her lover felt by the look in his eyes whether he admitted it or not, he could tell by the tone of her voice. Right now her tone said she wanted him and right now his eyes said he wanted her, too, but if they tumbled onto the bed they wouldn't rise again for a long time.
"Patrolling first?"
She sighed. "Sure." She didn't admit she was mildly horrified he hadn't thrown her to the bed and ravaged her to within an inch of her life. In her mind's eye it was the sexier and more fulfilling choice. She grumbled about being the chosen one while he dragged on his pair of jeans. By the time they were buttoned his body had relaxed enough to let go of her intoxicating affect on him. He could look at her again without wanting to pin her to the nearest wall or welcoming surface.
In most ways the Britishman felt every year of his life. He took pride in earning all forty six of them with all of the grace and dignity that one might expect from someone of his background and profession. However, when it came to loving Buffy and their intimate physical contact he felt like a randy schoolboy again, eager to devour every inch of her skin in carnal delight at any given moment. The dangerous part of this was that she knew it and frequently used it to her advantage whether he wanted her to or not and even despite his protests that it wasn't fair he never seemed to mind enough to stop her when she got it into her mind that she wanted him.
He picked up a cross and a stake from the downstairs standing wardrobe and slipped them into their appropriate places. She was wearing her own cross necklace and he knew she had her own weapons secreted on her body. Hell, her biggest weapon was her body. Still, he saw the bump from her pregnancy showing and felt a rather large pang of dread in the pit of his stomach. She was pulling open the door and he hurried to catch up to her. It was a short trip to the local cemetery and he was glad of it. The sooner there the sooner they could get home to safety.
"How has your patrolling been lately?" he asked her as they walked.
"It's been fine." She replied easily and he detected something she was holding back.
"Fine?" he queried, keeping his tone light.
"Well…" she hesitated.
"Yes?"
"It's no big. Probably just hormones but a few times it's felt like I'm off my game. Like this one vamp I fought a week ago. I knew I was aiming for his jawline but somehow I glanced off his ear. He barely blinked."
"Vampires don't tend to blink, love."
She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."
"Is that all? A missed hit or two?"
It really wasn't like her. She wasn't the most methodical of all the Slayers he'd ever heard of but she was a natural talent. He'd never seen someone with such innate skill and if she was missing blows enough to be nervous about it herself, he counted himself doubly worried. He put his arms around her shoulders as they passed through the wrought iron Sunnydale Greens gate.
"No…it's not all. I mean, don't freak out but I just don't feel like my hits are having the same effect they used to. I'm not weak but I just think I remember doing more damage. I don't know. I'm not sure.
He pulled her to a stop by grabbing onto her elbow. She turned, looking up at him with questioning eyes. "Buffy, why didn't you tell me about this sooner? Why are you so desperate to go patrolling when you're not sure you even can safely?"
"See?" she responded heatedly. "I knew you'd wig! I said it wasn't a big deal. It might even be in my imagination. I'm still winning!"
"What part of this am I not supposed to be upset, by, exactly? That you didn't come to me when you first suspected something was wrong? That you are, in fact, off your game? Or that you've continued to patrol even in these conditions without consulting me about a possible cause!"
He was over reacting and it didn't occur to him to realize it. He didn't realize he was yelling at her for something he was guilty of himself and he was being overly protective of her because of this dream. It just occurred to him to fear for her life and the life of the child. She took a step away from him and looked wounded. "Giles? What is your deal?"
"Are you kidding?" he asked.
She turned and ran off, away from him. He was quick to pursue her through the darkened graveyard. Of course, she was the Slayer and he a middle aged man. She was blessed with strength and speed to fight demons and vampires. He had knowledge and the ability to call up trivia at will. With the differences between it was amazing he kept her in sight for quite a while until he tripped over a low headstone and tumbled to the ground. By the time he got back to his feet she'd disappeared. His shin wasn't feeling spectacular and he cursed aloud before turning to limp back home. He felt foolish and sick at heart to imagine her out there without him now all because he couldn't tell her about his dream and what it said. When she returned to the flat he resolved to do just that.
Buffy was across town engaged in a fight with a new vampire. He looked younger than usual and was a bit sloppy in his fighting. Despite this, the Slayer found she was having a hard time actually beating him. It was like she said before to her lover: some of the hits were falling short of the mark and the others didn't seem as effective. They were still remarkably powerful hits but they didn't seem to go as far as they used to. She thought of her eighteenth birthday and a pang of fear swept through her. It was the same feeling of weakness and a lack of control over her own body.
The vampire seemed to notice that she wasn't performing as well as she ought to and took advantage of it. He swept her legs and brought her down, throwing himself on top of her with a savage growl of hunger. Buffy struggled, thrashing, and tried to get enough leverage to change the situation. As the vampire lowered himself down to take a taste she cried out in panic. She closed her eyes and braced herself for a bite that never came. Instead, the vampire poofed into dust on top of her. A hand was reaching out to her but it wasn't until she took it that she realized who it was.
"Spike." Her tone wasn't pleased.
"Sod all to you, too, Slayer." He responded, hauling her to her feet. He noticed the bump for the first time. "You're knocked up." He added in an incredulous voice.
"Yeah."
"Riley's?"
"He's been gone a while, Spike." She replied. He paused.
"I know it's not the nancy boy Xander….oh my God! Surely you're joking!" She pursed her lips as he laughed. "The Watcher?"
"It happens to be Giles', yes." She replied no more amused now than when she started.
"Watcher finally had himself a time, did he? Do you fancy you're in love with him?"
"I am in love with him." she responded stubbornly. "I always have been."
"You don't know what you want, Slayer. That's been your biggest weakness all along."
"Well, I want this baby and I want him and if you keep it up the next thing I'll want it a stake through your heart."
"As if you could."
"As if you could fight back." she responded pointedly. "Or did they finally get that chip out of your head?"
He growled a response and threw his hands up in the air. "This is a fine response for the man that saved your life no more than a minute or two ago."
"You're not a man. You may look like one but you're not."
He growled again, taking stock of her as she stood right next to him. "You can be a right bitch, Slayer." he muttered.
She hesitated. He was right and she was defensive and she really didn't want to admit that out loud. After a minute of silence between them she heaved a long sigh and looked up at him. "You're right. I'm sorry. Thank you for saving my life."
"I only did it so I can have the pleasure later, you know, once this chip is out of my head."
She cried out after he said that feeling like a fool for trying to see things his way and thinking he might be man-ish after all. She stalked away from him, stomping her way through the cemetery and she heard Spike following after her. He grabbed her elbow and she spun, throwing a blow to his head. He ducked easily, expecting some sort of retaliation and shied back a step or two.
"Listen. Let me walk you home, Buffy. Something's not quite right with you."
"What do you mean?"
"You and I both know you're not hitting 100%." He raised his hands. "You and I both know if you were you'd have landed that hit you just threw."
He was right and she made a motion for him to follow her. As they spoke they walked and she tolerated it with good humor and partly because she knew he was right though wild horses couldn't drag that admission from her. She wished it were anyone but him. Thankfully he kept his sarcastic British mouth shut and didn't torment her further. When they headed in the direction of the Watcher's flat and not in the direction of Rubello Drive Spike raised an eyebrow. She shrugged in response.
"What did you expect? We're lovers."
"Try not to remind me."
"You're welcome to walk away."
"No." he threw back in a deliberate tone. "I can't."
She stopped where she stood in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to look at him. That tone…there was something about it she couldn't put her finger on. Her hazel eyes glanced up to his and she arched an eyebrow back at him. He kept her gaze, leveling his own eyes with hers.
"What does that mean?" she asked softly.
"Tell me you think about it."
"About what?"
"We spent the night together, Buffy."
She was immediately bounced to the night some six months prior when she asked him to stay with her in an abandoned building in the wake of Riley's declaration that their relationship was permanently over. She wanted him close by because he was easy to have there. She used him for his cold comfort and didn't want to be reminded of it.
"I asked you to stay because you hated me. It was easier to be with you because I knew you were the one person in the world I could count on to loathe me."
"Buffy…"
"NO!" she protested. "Don't change. For God's sake, hate me! Please! Make your jokes and keep trying to kill me and please don't ever stop hating me."
"Slayer, I…" he trailed off.
"Please." She whimpered.
"I hate you." he responded in the most infinitely tender way she'd ever heard come from his lips, even in reference to Drusilla. He saw tears welling up in her eyes and knew how it would always be between them. Most of the time he didn't mind the distance. Most of the time he didn't mind the hatred. Right now, though, he minded both. He was ready for anything she'd do except for the one thing she actually did. She threw her arms around him and hugged him close.
"Thank you." she whispered in his ear. He growled, feeling her nearness too keenly to ignore. He wrapped his arms around her as well, resting his forehead on her shoulder. She didn't even shudder at the touch. For once he didn't feel like inserting a quick quip and he didn't imagine sinking his fangs into her very tempting throat. She was treating him like a man. More than that, if he read between the lines, she was treating his as a friend.
"You're welcome. Let's get you back to that Watcher of yours before you find yourself bitten."
She scoffed. "By you?"
"Why not by me? You've given me opportunity and motive enough."
"Neutered little puppy." She reminded and he smiled.
"Appreciate it if you wouldn't spread that around. Might ruin my reputation."
"As what? Kitten gambler or former government prisoner?" she teased. He tensed, quick to anger and then quick to let it go again.
"As a bloodthirsty killer and demon slayer."
"Right…"
The arrived at the flat and Buffy could see the fountain in the courtyard. She stopped and felt awkward. It was almost like the end of a date with him staring at her expectantly and her wanting to duck inside before further damage could be done. She blushed, feeling a new rush of foolishness and ducked away from him quickly before she turned back.
"Um, goodnight." She offered shyly.
"Get better Slayer." He returned. "You're no fun when you can't come out and play like a good girl."
She nodded and headed into the house to find a distraught lover on the couch with an icepack on his swollen shin. Her eyes widened in surprise as she rushed to him. She knelt, kissing his bruise and fussing over him as a proper wife would and for a while Giles indulged in the need and want for it. He even dared to imagine her as his wife though he knew they couldn't ever cross that line. When she saw the ugly purplish black splotch under his skin her breath caught in her throat.
"What happened?" she demanded, worried. He smiled at her, seeing a softer side to her personality.
"I tripped trying to follow you, a low lying tombstone. It's nothing, dearest."
"You should have…"
He cut her off before she could finish her statement. "I should have told you the truth. I over reacted."
"Told me the truth?" He cleared his throat.
"I saw Gorgolek in my dreams the other night." He denied her any sort of response before continuing. "He told me that if you carried this child to term you'll die. I didn't want to worry you, in your condition. Especially since it was just a dream and I have no reason to think it's nothing more than my subconscious fears."
"Do you really think that?"
"No."
"Alright, then, we have to start looking into the possibilties."
"You were saying you felt weak."
"How many other Slayers have given birth before me?"
"Only two. Nikki Wood in the seventies and Elizabeth Rosen in the early 1600's. Both births were male children, if I remember, and the Slayers died shortly after the births…within five to ten years."
"Not helping." She warned. He paused.
"I'm confident you and I will be up to the challenge of trying to raise this child between us."
"I want to be around to see it graduate, Giles."
"You will…You have something no other Slayer's ever had before…allies."
"And you." He looked at her tenderly and took her hand.
"And me. Until death you have me."
"Yours or mine?"
"Whichever comes first." He joked. "Six of one, half a dozen of the other."
"Even odds." She responded softly, turning the idea in her head.
"We need to look deeper into Slayer pregnancy to see if anyone else has experienced weakness or loss of ability while pregnant."
He nodded and moved to go to his bookcase. She stopped him and brought him back to her, holding him in her arms. He held her close, knowing she was likely nervous about this whole thing and all he wanted to do was comfort her.
"I won't let anything happen to you, my darling."
She sighed in his arms and stared out the window, thinking about the implications of what he said. She finally admitted to herself something she didn't want to realize. She was getting weaker. Less focused. This dream just seemed to come in and prove what she knew all along: this baby was affecting her more deeply than she knew. She wasn't sure but it almost seemed too good to be true but she couldn't tell her lover that. He was too excited about being a father. Instead as her effort to protect him she kept silent about her fears.