Side Effects

Chapter Four – Hard Right Onto Responsibility Lane

Spike rolled off Buffy and lay on his back, panting harshly. "Bloody hell. I'll probably be the first vamp in recorded history to dust from sheer exhaustion."

Buffy was breathing just as hard. "I'm gonna die from starvation. I haven't eaten anything since this started. Well… except for… you know." She motioned weakly toward his groin.

Spike smirked. "I haven't eaten, either, except for… you know." He chuckled as he motioned toward her groin. "I think by now, considerin' everything we've done to one another, we should be able to say it."

Buffy shook her head. "No, I'm good. We both know what we mean, so we'll just leave it alone. God, I'm starving."

Spike's stomach rumbled in agreement. "We should probably eat while we can. No tellin' how long this is gonna go on."

Buffy nodded. "Okay. Let's get up and do that."

"Right. Let's."

They lay there, not moving, until their breathing slowed and the aches and pains started making themselves known. Spike stretched with a groan then looked over at the pile of splintered wood and shredded cloth that used to be Rupert's sofa. "He's gonna be a bit brassed off 'bout that, I think."

Buffy sat up slowly, her hands going to her lower back to knead at the sore muscles. "He'll deal." She turned to look behind her then picked up the book she'd been lying on. She lifted her head and cringed. "He might not deal with that, though. Look." She pointed to the jumbled pile of books and broken boards.

Spike looked and barked out a laugh. "Least it wasn't his kitchen utensils or bathroom implements. Sod never said anythin' 'bout his books."

Buffy reached over and picked up the wooden spoon that was lying next to Spike's hip. She prodded him to roll over, which he did, and she matched the bowl of the spoon to several welts on his pale backside. Then she smacked him hard, giggling when he yelped. "I'm pretty sure that spanking is an appropriate use for this, so should we tell him?"

Spike rolled back over then took the spoon and sat up, chucking it neatly overhand. It sailed through the pass-through into the kitchen, landing with a loud clatter in the sink. "Nope. I'm sure he had his arse tanned many a time with one of those in his youth… and maybe later. Hell, he might've been the one doin' the tanning. Rupes always did strike me as bein' a bit on the kinky side." He winked at Buffy. "Bet if you lot hadn't been underfoot all the time when he had me chained in his bloody tub, I'd have gotten to see a bit of it. He did threaten to warm my arse with his belt once… you know – Headmaster and errant schoolboy… but then the witch showed up and that was the end of that."

Buffy shoved him with a laugh and said, "Ewww… that's just… wrong." Spike leered and Buffy's eyelids fluttered. She moaned and lay back down, her hips twitching. "Okay… not wrong." She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "He probably still has those chains if you want me to chain you up. And I bet he has an extra belt."

Spike shivered then said in a husky voice, "I've been bad, Miss Summers."

They found the chains and the belt.

XXXX

Giles knocked on his front door – at least it was still on the hinges, that was a good sign – and called out, "Buffy? Spike? I have some news." He adjusted the bags hanging from his left hand. "And sustenance." No answer. Giles took a deep breath and opened the door, steeling his nerves for what was sure to be a scene of total destruction. His nerves weren't disappointed.

His living room looked like a bomb had been detonated on his coffee table. There were broken bits of furniture strewn everywhere, interspersed with his curtains, books, and assorted knick-knacks. Smack dab in the center of the destruction – Ground Zero, as it were – lay the unconscious forms of Spike and Buffy. They were both naked, unless you counted the manacles around Spike's wrists and ankles and the leather belt wrapped around Buffy's right hand. The chain that had attached Spike to the radiator against the wall was broken into several pieces. The radiator itself had been pulled violently from its moorings and was lying near Spike's head.

Giles carefully picked his way through the mess to the kitchen and set the bags on the counter. He took out three bags of blood and put one in the microwave, setting it to heat while he unpacked the to-go box containing Buffy's meal. When the microwave dinged, he poured blood into the 'Kiss the Librarian' mug Spike favored and set it on the pass-through counter. He transferred Buffy's meal to a plate then pulled a small glass vial from his pocket and sprinkled the contents over her food. He capped the vial and pocketed it then set the plate next to the mug of blood along with a fork and a glass of milk.

He took a deep breath and exited the kitchen, once again picking his way carefully through the mess until he'd reached Buffy's side. He snagged the blanket that had rested on the back of his sofa and draped it over them then reached down and shook Buffy's shoulder. "Buffy?"

She stirred, mumbling something he couldn't make out, then rolled to her side, laying her head on Spike's chest and draping her arm across his stomach. Spike grunted and shifted slightly, wrapping his arm around her back and pulling her close.

He shook her shoulder again. "Buffy! Wake up!"

Buffy jerked and opened her eyes, turning her head to peer up at Giles. "What?"

Giles motioned around the living room. "I distinctly remember asking you NOT to destroy my flat."

She shrugged and laid her head back down on Spike's chest. "Not our fault, Giles. You know that. At least we kept it contained to the living room. The rest of the place is fine."

Giles sighed. "I suppose you're right. I brought food for you and blood for Spike, and I've discovered a way to put a stop to this."

Buffy lifted her head again. "You have? What is it?"

"It's quite simple, really. You have to get pregnant."

XXXX

Spike was sitting somewhat uncomfortably on a stool in front of the pass-through, wearing Giles' spare robe as he drank down his fourth mug of blood. "Can't believe you got me human blood, Rupert." He looked at the man leaning against the kitchen counter sipping a cup of tea. "Although, I think whoever donated this must've been part demon. It doesn't taste bad, exactly, just a little… off."

Giles nodded, wearing a cryptic expression. "You may be right. And you need to drink that last bag of blood." He smiled at Spike's inquisitive look then nodded at Buffy. "Finish your meals and I'll explain."

Buffy nodded back, unable to speak because her mouth was full of food. She was wearing a brand new bathrobe that Giles had purchased on his way back to the apartment. Spike shrugged and walked into the kitchen to heat another mug of blood.

He sat back down – carefully – just as Buffy set her fork down and discreetly burped into the back of her hand. She drained her glass of milk, burped again, then took a deep breath. "Okay, Watcher-mine, what's the deal? You said I have to get pregnant? You do remember the whole 'Spike can't get me pregnant' thing, right? And I don't want to be pregnant. I can't slay if I'm pregnant. And what about college? I'd have to quit school. I'm not ready to have kids, Giles. I can barely take care of myself, how am I going to handle a baby?"

Spike muttered over the rim of his mug, "Not one breath in all of that. Quite the lung capacity you have there, Slayer."

Buffy didn't even look at him. "Shut up, Spike."

Spike smirked and looked at Giles. "I have to agree with her, Rupes. I can't get her up the duff, and even if I could, I'm not daddy material… at least not in that context." He leered over at Buffy.

Buffy's eyes widened then she screeched, "Ewww, Spike! God, you're so gross! I am NOT calling you Daddy!"

Spike shrugged. "Your loss, pet. Role-play can be a bit of all right." He shifted on the stool. "And my sore arse says you didn't seem to mind playin' the role of Headmistress, but if Daddy play isn't your thing…" He leered again. "…how 'bout Naughty Nurse? That strike your fancy? You could give me a sponge bath… with your tongue."

Buffy smacked Spike on the arm and Giles cleared his throat then said sternly, "If you two are quite finished."

Buffy mumbled, "Sorry, but he started it."

Giles gave her one of his patented 'I'm surrounded by fools' looks and set down his tea cup. He looked at Spike. "You are correct in your assumption, Spike. That blood does have demon blood in it, but just a very little."

Spike eyed the mug in his hand warily. "What kind of demon?"

"Mohra."

Spike hurriedly set the mug on the counter and backed away. "You fed me Mohra blood? Without askin' me first?"

Buffy looked at the mug then at Spike then at Giles. "What's he talking about? What did you do?"

Giles waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing that will affect him permanently. We measured the dose very carefully."

Spike squeaked, "Dose? What dose?" He glared at Giles. "What the bloody hell are you talkin' about? You know what that stuff does, right? It'll turn me human! I'm not 'bout to lose my demon strength and senses on top of havin' this chip in my bleedin' skull! I'll be a sittin' duck for anyone or anything to pop by and kill at their leisure!"

Giles said in clipped tones, "It. Will. Not. Affect. You. Permanently. Get a grip, man, you're making a fool of yourself."

Spike started to sputter, shouting curses and waving his arms. Buffy turned and laid a hand gently on one flailing arm. "Calm down, Spike. Let him explain, okay?" She turned to Giles. "So explain, already. What did you do to him?"

"Anya told me about the properties and uses of Mohra blood. It will only turn you completely human – ridding you of your vampire demon – if you mix your blood with the blood of a Mohra, say in a cut or puncture wound. If a small amount is ingested, however, you will only be human for as long as the blood remains in your system. Once it's been fully digested, you will revert to your vampire state." Giles waved at the mug. "For the blood to work properly, you need to finish that last bag."

Spike glared at the mug. "And if I don't?"

Giles motioned around his living room then looked intently at Spike. "Then you and Buffy will most likely shag yourselves to madness… or death. Even if you left right now and went your separate ways, the compulsion would still be upon you. Both of you could engage in sexual activity with every person between here and Los Angeles and it wouldn't matter. You would still be drawn to each other, and when you came back together, you would continue with this…" He waved around his living room again. "…and you would eventually be unable to sleep, to eat, to function normally. It won't end, Spike, not until Buffy is pregnant with your child."

Buffy said very quietly, "I'm not ready to have a baby, Giles. I can't do it."

Giles stepped toward her and laid his hand gently on hers. "You don't have to carry it to term, Buffy. Once the aphrodisiac properties in the blood have been negated, you can undergo a procedure to terminate the pregnancy."

Buffy nodded, a single tear dripping down her cheek. "Okay."

Spike interjected, "Hey! Don't I get a say in this? It'll be my sprog you're killin'! Think I should get a vote!"

Buffy looked over at him. "You said you weren't daddy material, remember?"

Spike looked down at his feet. "Well… yeah, but that was before I knew it was a possibility."

"I can't raise a child alone, Spike."

Spike looked up at her and barked, "You're not alone! You're never alone! You're the only Slayer I've ever heard of with a bloody entourage!" He gestured to Giles. "You have him, the witches, demon-girl and her carpenter, your mum, your sis…" He stopped suddenly then his voice dropped to a whisper, "…and me."

Buffy's expression became incredulous. "You? You're gonna change diapers and do midnight feedings and take it to the park? Let it spit up all over your precious coat? Really? And who says I want to be in a relationship with you? We can barely stand to be in the same room together when we're not under some kind of stupid spell!"

Spike shouted, "We don't have to be together to raise a child, you daft bint! People get divorced all the time and still manage to raise kids!"

Buffy jumped to her feet. "What about slaying, huh? How am I gonna fight demons when I'm as big as a house? What about when I have to nurse? You think I can just tell the vampire I'm fighting, 'Hey, can you wait right here and not kill anybody while I feed my baby?' You think that'll work?"

Spike stepped closer, bringing them nose to nose. "I can do that, too! I'm nearly as strong as you and I have decades more fighting experience! You think I can't handle a few paltry demons? I've been killin' demons since before you were a twinkle in your grandfather's eye!"

Giles slapped his hands down on the counter and roared, "Stop this now!" Spike and Buffy both froze then turned as one to stare at Giles. He looked at one stool then the other and said firmly, "Sit. Down."

They sat.

"Now, Spike… you have indicated your wish to keep the child, but have you completely thought this through? How will you provide for it? You have no income and you live in a crypt. That is not a proper environment for a child."

Spike looked down at his lap. "Yeah, this is a boatload of manly responsibility to come flyin' out of nowhere, Rupes, I get that, but…" He glanced over at Buffy. "If you laugh at me, I swear…"

Buffy whispered, "I won't laugh, I promise."

Spike nodded and looked back down at his lap. "I always wanted a family, back when I was human. Didn't happen, though, and when Dru sired me I put that dream away, but now…" He looked up, catching Giles' eyes with his own. "This is my only chance to be a father, Rupert. Don't make me have to put that away again. Please."

Giles nodded slightly then frowned. "Wanting to be a father is all well and good, but I have to ask again. How will you support a child?"

Spike spoke quickly, "I have money. You don't live as long as I have without learnin' how to invest, 'specially when it's pounded into you by your lump of a grandsire. I have personal accounts, and if I talk to the poof, I can access my portion of the Aurelian funds. I have more than enough to support a child, Rupert. I could support a dozen children."

Buffy glared at Spike then punched him hard in the shoulder, nearly knocking him off the stool. "You made me PAY you to fight that demon. You made Giles PAY you to help him when he got turned into a Furry demon…"

Spike and Giles both interrupted at the same time, "Fyarl demon."

Buffy slashed her hand through the air. "Whatever. I had to PAY you to help me find Riley. You've begged us all for money to buy blood and cigarettes and booze and you had your own money the whole time?"

Spike shrugged as he rubbed his shoulder. "That was pounded into me by Darla. She never used her own money when she could use someone else's." He smirked. "I'm the product of my upbringing, Slayer. Isn't that the thing these days? To blame your problems and shortcomings on the people who raised you? Wonder what our child will blame on us?"

Buffy's glare intensified. "You think you're fit to raise a child?"

Spike looked down at his lap again. "Probably not, but quite a few humans aren't fit, and yet they pop out kids like bleedin' PEZ dispensers." He looked up at Buffy with pleading eyes. "I took care of Dru for over a century and she's harder to manage than any sprog. I can do this, Buffy. Please let me."

Giles reached out and pushed the mug a little closer to Spike. "Finish the blood. The fate of the child doesn't have to be decided just now, so let's deal with the problem at hand and discuss that at a later date."

Buffy looked at Spike for a few long minutes then nodded. "Giles is right. We can talk about this later. I promise I won't make any decisions without you, okay?"

Spike swallowed and turned to the counter with a quiet, "Thank you, Buffy." He picked up the mug and drained it then handed it to Giles. "Hit me again, barkeep."