Clean Slate

Chapter Seven – Horseradish

*Three Months Later*

The three months since Carrie had stumbled out in front of Spike's car seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Carrie worked in the office, silently seething whenever one of Spike's 'special' customers showed up to have their car worked on, but she kept her jealousy under control and maintained a polite façade, although quite a few of the work orders she filed were a bit wrinkled from being crumpled in her fists. During Spike's 'dates,' she curled up on the couch in the living room, staring at the blank television until he came home. They wouldn't really talk while she doctored any injuries he'd received, and then they'd go to sleep, separately, of course.

Her stomach troubles had cleared up a week or two after meeting Spike, and once she'd been able to keep down a couple of meals in a row, Spike had remarked that she was too thin and then he'd set off on a course to put some meat on her bones. He'd brought home meat, vegetables, fruit, milk… pretty much any 'healthy' food he could find at the store. No processed foods, snacks, or anything with empty calories, although he'd indulged her seemingly uncontrollable craving for chocolate ice cream. He'd even purchased a massive bottle of multi-vitamins and had doled them out to her once a day like clockwork, telling her that because they didn't know how long she'd been getting less than optimal nutrition, the vitamins were needed to build her immunity back up. He was an excellent cook – something he'd learned from his father – and so she'd eaten… a lot… but she'd only managed to put on about ten or twelve pounds… most of it seeming to settle in her lower abdomen.

Spike had 'date' nights two or three times a week, and Carrie looked forward to the nights when he'd be home. They'd cook dinner together – she'd found out that she was a menace in the kitchen, so she mostly handled making the drinks, setting out the dishes, and simple tasks like buttering the bread – and then they'd sit and eat, talking about anything and everything… except Spike's extracurricular activities. Once the dishes were washed and drying in the dish rack, they'd go for a ride on the motorcycle then come home and play cards or watch something on TV until they couldn't keep their eyes open.

It was a simple life, one they both enjoyed. They'd developed a warm and comfortable friendship, but they carefully maintained a 'hands off' policy except for when Carrie had to play medic. There'd been a few instances of accidental touching, mostly when they were both maneuvering around Spike's small kitchen, and they'd both blushed and had mumbled apologies, neither one noticing the longing in the other's eyes as they'd continued their dinner preparations. They were as close as two people in their particular situation could be, but the whole 'Spike's a whore' thing and the super-sized box of condoms on his dresser were like the elephants in the room… always there… always seen… but never discussed.

Carrie's memory still hadn't returned, although she got flashes once in a while. She'd see something on TV or they'd ride by a building that seemed sort of familiar and it would rattle a memory loose, but they never contained enough information to let her identify anything useful. All she'd gleaned from the flashes was that she'd apparently grown up in a household that was moderately well-off. She'd remembered a few nice cars, a bathroom that was larger than Spike's living room, and the busy hallways of a large high school, but there hadn't been enough detail to give her anywhere to start some research. They'd visited the Sunnydale High library after that particular memory flash and had looked through yearbooks for the past six years, only to discover that Carrie wasn't originally from Sunnydale… or if she was, then she'd been homeschooled.

She also hadn't remembered anything at all having to do with a boyfriend, which made her ridiculously happy, even though that happiness was tinged with a touch of bitterness. No, she apparently wasn't attached, which was good, but the one person she wanted to be attached to was stuck maintaining their 'just friends' status, which was bad. She was so in love with Spike that it was physically painful to think about him with those other women, and she'd had vivid fantasies of what she'd like to do to each and every one of them for daring to touch her man.

And damn, but she was horny. Pretty much all the time since her stomach problems had stopped. She'd spent a lot of frustrated nights lying in Spike's bed all by herself, wishing he was lying next to her, or on top of her, or beneath her – she wasn't picky – instead of sleeping on the couch. He'd gotten good at making sure he took his clothes with him into the bathroom when he showered, so she hadn't gotten a look at anything but his torso, and what a torso he had. She'd had to seriously concentrate on NOT rubbing her hands all over his shoulders, arms, back, and chest while she was doctoring his 'date injuries,' and most of Spike's 'date nights' had ended with Carrie waiting until he was asleep to slip into the shower and have a little 'private time' with the detachable shower head.

Spike was having much the same problem, and while he also had an outlet for his lust, he'd found that he couldn't maintain an erection or achieve climax unless he imagined Carrie's face instead of the face of the woman he was buried balls-deep in. There had also been a couple of close calls – he'd very nearly called out Carrie's name instead of the name of the woman he'd been shagging because he'd been so deep into his fantasy. But he didn't just want to shag Carrie… he loved her. He was in love with her. Completely head over heels. Everything she did, everything she said… just everything about her, he found to be completely adorable. He loved spending time with her, no matter what they were doing, and though they weren't together, he felt connected to her. More than connected… he was hers, heart and soul, if not in body, and the guilt from his continuous cheating was nearly crushing him. But what other choice did he have? He'd set that train in motion years ago and there wasn't anything he could do to stop it, but he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to. He'd give anything to be hers. Only hers.

XX

XXXX

XX

Carrie put the last washed bowl from their breakfast into the cupboard then turned and lifted the lid off the crock pot. The aroma of cooking meat wafted up and she inhaled deeply. She looked up when she heard the rumble of a motorcycle's engine then smiled and replaced the lid. She walked to the French doors and pulled them open in time to see Spike setting the kickstand on the bike. He looked over at her and smiled as he dismounted. "Hey, pet."

She leaned a shoulder against the door frame as he opened the saddlebags and lifted out the rest of the dinner ingredients. "Hey. How was shopping?"

He held up two shopping bags. "Good. Found some fresh horseradish. You're in for a treat."

She wrinkled up her nose. "Horseradish? What's that?"

"It's bloody delicious, is what, and if I'm going to prepare a proper Sunday roast, I have to serve horseradish. The Queen would most likely lop off my head if I didn't."

Carrie giggled. "You're in America now, Spike. I'm pretty sure the Queen doesn't really care what you eat."

He winked as he stepped through the door. "Maybe, but I can't call myself a proper Englishman if I don't serve a proper roast for our special dinner."

Carrie laughed as she followed him into the kitchen. "You're a proper goofball." Her stomach fluttered a little, though, because today was going to be special… she hoped. She'd been planning things out for a week, trying to decide the best way to tell him that he didn't have to whore himself out anymore. Her stomach fluttered again. And then she was going to make her move, finally claiming the man she loved as her own.

He set the bags on the counter and started emptying them, putting things away in cupboards and the fridge. He held up a clear plastic bag that contained what looked like a piece of tree root. "This is horseradish."

Carrie looked at it skeptically. "That doesn't look very delicious, Spike. It looks like an old stick."

He set the bag on the counter. "It's not delicious yet, but it will be when I'm finished preparing it. You just wait."

"If you say…" Carrie broke off with a gasp and looked down, laying a hand on her lower belly.

Spike looked at her. "You all right, luv?"

"I think so." She pressed her hand lightly against her belly then gasped again, her eyes widening as she looked up at Spike.

He stepped closer and looked down at her hand. "Is it your stomach again? I thought you were doing better. You haven't said anything for a while." He looked back up at her face. "And you look miles healthier than you did when you got here. You, well… you sort of… glow."

Carrie swallowed hard as a few puzzle pieces suddenly slipped into place, then she said in a whisper, "I need to sit down… and maybe you should, too."

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch, Spike's brow furrowed with concern. "Tell me what's wrong. Please."

Carrie looked down at the hands folded in her lap as her mind went over the puzzle pieces once more, trying to decide if they really did fit or if she was trying to force them into place. She decided that she wasn't forcing anything then nodded to herself and said quietly, "I don't think anything is really wrong, exactly, but…" She looked up at him. "Okay, um… I kind of haven't had my period since I met you… well… I've bled off and on, but it was way light and not on any kind of schedule or anything. Since I didn't know anything about myself, I just figured that was normal for me, and when I talked to Anya about it, she said my cycle might be messed up because of the stress and how skinny I am." She shrugged. "I figured I'd even out once I gained some more weight, so I stopped worrying about it, but now…" She fell silent and laid a hand on her belly again as she closed her eyes.

Spike's eyes tracked to her hand then back to her face. "Now… what? Are you bleeding?" He turned and looked over the back of the couch toward the bedroom. "Do you have the… uh… woman things you need for that?" He looked over at her. "I could go get some if you don't."

She shook her head. "No, I don't need tampons or anything." She took a deep breath. "When I was in the kitchen just now, I felt something move…" She patted her belly. "…in here. I thought it was nerves, my stomach was kind of fluttery a few minutes ago, but in the kitchen… it was stronger. Way stronger." She opened her eyes and looked at Spike. "I think I'm pregnant." A small smile formed on her lips. "I just felt it again." She lifted her shirt and looked at her slightly rounded stomach then smoothed her hand over it. "That would explain why all the weight I've gained has gone right here. And it would explain the no periods thing. And it completely explains why I was sick to my stomach so much." She motioned toward her breasts even as she kept staring at her stomach. "And why these have gotten bigger and why they're so sensitive." She looked up at Spike again, her smile a little wider. "I'm pregnant, Spike."

Spike's face had drained of all its color and he whispered, "You're… Oh, Dear Lord." He jumped up and walked across the room, standing with his back to her. He glanced over his shoulder, his face stricken. "You're… bloody hell…" One hand clenched into a fist as he turned to face the French doors and muttered, "Well, of course you are. Why wouldn't you be? Amazing bird like you, 'course you've got a bloke. And 'course he got you up the duff." His shoulders slumped and he whispered, too low to be heard, "Knew I'd never get you. I was stupid to think I could. I don't deserve you." He suddenly spun around, digging in his pocket for his keys. "Xan mentioned this private detective a few weeks ago. It'll cost, but I'll pay for it if you want so we can find out who you are and get you back to your bloke. Be a proper family."

He turned to open the door and was about to step through when Carrie said softly, "Spike, wait."

He stopped, but didn't look at her. "We should get that PI on this, find out who you are. I'm sure your bloke's worried."

Carrie barked out a bitter laugh. "Worried? Yeah, right. It's been months, Spike! Months! If my bloke was that damned worried about me and our baby, don't you think we'd have seen me in the missing person reports Xander gets from his cop friend every week? Huh? If whoever knocked me up gave any kind of a shit about me, then why was I eating at the soup kitchen? By myself? And this is Sunnydale, not New York City. Three months is more than enough time for my 'worried bloke' to search every single building in town… twice… so if I have one, then he's apparently not worried about me at all or he'd have found me by now!" Carrie got to her feet and walked purposefully across the room to the pile of mail in the tray on the kitchen counter. She shifted the envelopes around until she found a business card then held it up. "And I already have the PI's number. Xander gave it to me a month ago." She tossed the card back into the tray.

"Did you call him?"

"No, and I don't want to."

"Why not?"

She huffed out an exasperated sigh. "Because who I used to be doesn't matter anymore. I like being Carrie." She dipped her head and motioned vaguely around the apartment then at Spike. "And I've been happy here… with you." Her shoulders slumped and she turned away. "But I get it. This isn't your problem, it's mine, and I'll go so you don't have to deal with it. Wouldn't want to cramp your style or anything." She started toward the bedroom with a barely hidden sniffle. "Just let me pack my stuff and I'll call a cab to take me to one of the shelters." Her voice caught a little, and when she spoke Spike could hear the tears in it. "I'll start hunting for a room or something tomorrow. I think I have enough saved to..."

She didn't get to finish her sentence because Spike had moved to stand in front of her and his finger had landed on her lips. He slipped it under her chin and gently lifted until her damp eyes met his. "You have enough saved to buy some of the things you'll need for the baby." He nodded toward the bedroom. "There's room enough in there for a cradle, I think. I'll get one tomorrow and then I'll shift some things around. I can move the dresser out here or something." He lowered his finger from her chin and reached down to grasp her hand. "I don't want you to go, Carrie. I'm happy here, too… with you, and I'll be happy with your sprog. The flat may be a bit cramped, but my style will cope." Carrie snorted out a sniffle-giggle and leaned forward, laying her forehead against Spike's chest. His arms came up to wrap around her and he pulled her close. "Please stay."

She mumbled against his chest. "But babies are noisy and messy and expensive. And it's not even yours. Are you sure you want to help raise another man's child?"

He squeezed her, just a little. "The little one is part of you, and that makes it fine by me. I'll help you with it; I'll even change nappies, just please don't leave. I don't know what I'd do if you left."

She lifted her head, their faces only inches apart, and gave him a watery smile. "You're sure?"

He nodded, his eyes focused on her lips, then he tilted his head as he closed the distance and lightly pressed his lips to hers. She tilted her head the opposite way and her arms came up to wrap around his back. She clung to him, holding him tight against her as she lightly touched his lip with her tongue. He moaned at the contact and opened his mouth, letting her in.

They broke the kiss nearly a minute later, both breathing hard as they rested their foreheads together. Spike panted, "Was that all right? I mean… was it okay that I kissed you? I know we're just friends… and we've been careful not to…"

Carrie lifted her hand and pressed a finger to his lips. "It was all kinds of okay. And I think we're more than just friends. Way more. At least I want us to be."

She started wriggling until he let her go then she laid her hands on his chest and gently pushed until he started walking backwards. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that she was pushing him toward the bedroom. He looked down at her hands then up to her face. "You want to…"

She nodded then licked her lips. "Oh yeah. I want to. I've wanted to since I met you." His knees hit the edge of the bed and she gave a harder push, sending him backwards onto the mattress with a bounce. "Do you want to?"

A surge of lust bloomed all through him at the way she was taking control and he nodded then breathed, "God, yes."

She smiled then stripped her shirt off. She wiped a few tears from her face then tossed it at the hamper. She wasn't wearing a bra. "Okay, but before we do this…" She crawled up onto the bed and straddled his hips, pressing down against the hardness in his jeans. "I have to tell you something."

Spike's mouth had gone dry at the sight of her naked breasts and the pressure on his cock, and he had to swallow a few times before he could croak out, "Tell me what?"

She grasped his wrists and raised his arms above his head as she leaned down, pressing his wrists hard against the mattress and her breasts against his chest. He tilted his head back, suddenly discovering that being restrained by a forceful woman was apparently one of his kinks, and she attacked his neck with teeth and lips. She nibbled and sucked then licked a line up to his ear and bit down gently on his earlobe before she whispered, "I don't share." At his gasp, she raised her head and waited until he'd opened his eyes to look at her. His blue eyes were dazed and heavy lidded with raw lust. She smiled then claimed his lips in a possessive kiss. She sat up and released his wrists, laying her hands on his chest. He left his hands where they were then moaned again when she scratched at his nipples through his shirt. "Did you hear me?"

Spike groaned when she pinched his right nipple then tried to find a clear thought in the fog of need currently clouding his brain. "So, you mean... no more 'dates' for me?"

She shook her head. "No. If we do this, then you're MY man… and ONLY mine. Nobody else gets to touch you, and I'll scratch the eyes out of any skank who tries."

A sharp jab of fear pierced the fog and Spike's eyes cleared a little. "God, Carrie, you have no idea how much I want that, how LONG I've wanted that… but what about the garage? If I stop performing my… uh… special services, Xander will lose customers."

Carrie leaned down again, her lips brushing his as she said, "I help do the books, remember? Xander's doing fine. More than fine. And he'll keep doing fine even if the skank patrol stops showing up. The work they have done is a small percentage of the garage's total revenue, and it got even smaller when Xander landed that contract with the city last week." She lifted her head and looked at him seriously. "He knows what you've been doing with those women, Spike. And he knows why you've been doing it." She sat up with a sigh. "I was going to tell you all this over dinner. I've been planning out how to do it for a week, and straddling you while I'm half-naked wasn't part of the plan. Well… it was part of A plan, but not THAT plan."

And that was it for the lust. Spike's eyes cleared all the way and he shivered as a cold wave of shame washed over him. He closed his eyes and turned his head. "How long has he known?"

"He figured it out a month or so ago. He asked me why you were still seeing your customers if you felt the way you do about me. I told him we were just friends and he gave me this look like I'd completely missed the point."

Spike squeezed his eyes shut tighter. "He told you how I feel? I told him that in confidence! It wasn't his place to go running his mouth!"

Carrie tapped a fingertip on Spike's chest. "He just confirmed what I'd already figured out. I didn't tell him 'why' you were seeing your customers, though, Anya did. She's known for a while because one of your customers told her that doing you is what keeps her coming to the garage. Before I showed up, Anya didn't think it was a big deal; you're young and you're single, so why shouldn't you have fun? But then she noticed how guilty you looked every time one of the skanks made a date with you while I was in the room. She said the shame just practically drips off you every time one of them shows up, so that's why she prodded Xander into going after the city contract. They both knew you wouldn't stop if you thought it would hurt their business, so they fixed it so it won't."

Spike turned his head and opened his eyes, carefully keeping his gaze on Carrie's face instead of points further south. "So… I can call Harmony and cancel our date for tonight? Just like that?"

Carrie nodded. "Yeah. Just like that."

"What about tomorrow? She was supposed to bring her car in for a full service. If I cancel…"

Carrie shrugged. "Then she probably won't show up. Big whoop. Tomorrow's booked solid, so one missed appointment won't matter." Carrie's eyes flashed hotly. "If you want, I'll call Miss Fake-Boobs Sluttypants and tell her to go find some other guy to sharpen her claws on. I can get her number from the files in the office."

Spike smirked faintly then shook his head. "I'll call, but… what about my job? Do I get to keep that?"

Carrie frowned in confusion. "Well… yeah, why wouldn't you?"

Spike lifted a hand and motioned toward his body. "Because this is what's marketable, pet, not my skills as a mechanic."

Carrie sighed. "Have you had sex with every single one of your customers? Old Mrs. McCreevy seems to like you. Ever been on a 'date' with her?"

Spike looked mortified. "What? No! She's nearly ninety!"

Carrie smiled. "Okay, did the customers you didn't have sex with bring their car to you more than once?"

Spike nodded slowly. "Well… yeah, a few did…"

"Actually, way more than a few. So you get where I'm going with this? Your work must have been good, you doof, otherwise you wouldn't have had repeat customers."

Spike considered that for a few seconds then nodded. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." Carrie scratched her nails across Spike's nipples and he gasped. She grasped one of his hands and lifted it to her breast. "So… do you still want to do this? You want to be mine and only mine?"

Spike's eyes tracked to his hand and he sat up, nodding vigorously. "Yes. To both." He dipped his head, his mouth closing on her breast and Carrie groaned as he sucked her extremely sensitive nipple into his mouth.

Her fingers wound into his hair as she pushed her breast further into his mouth. He cupped her other breast with his hand then trailed his mouth across to that one, giving it the same attention. He lifted his head then wrapped his arm around her and rolled, laying her back on the bed as he supported himself above her. He laid a hand gently on her swollen belly. "You sure about this? Don't want to hurt the baby."

Carrie reached up to trail her fingers lightly down his cheek. "You won't." She slid them into his hair again then tugged his head down, capturing his lips in a blistering kiss. She wound her legs around his hips and rolled, putting herself back on top.

Spike looked at her, his gaze one of concern. "How do you know?"

She shrugged. "Just do. Like I know the alphabet and how to operate a microwave. Sex during pregnancy isn't dangerous to the baby as long as my water hasn't broken, so until it does…" She sat up, straddling his upper thighs, then reached down to tug the t-shirt out of his jeans. "…we're gonna have lots of sex."

Spike groaned as her fingers slipped under the shirt and found his nipples. "You like to be in charge, don't you?"

Carrie shrugged again. "Looks like." She pushed his t-shirt up then captured his wrists in her hands and leaned down, taking a nipple between her teeth before sucking it sharply into her mouth. She nibbled then released it and moved across his chest to the other one, mumbling on the way, "That gonna be a problem?"

Spike's head tipped back again as she held his wrists hard to the bed. "No problem at all. Please continue."

Carrie sat up then scooted off Spike and stood. "Okay. Strip."