They laced their fingers, and she smiled up at him. It had been too long since she'd done this. "Corr, love," he whispered, trying to find his feet, and drawing her close. "You sure you won't fancy me a nancy boy by the time we're done?"

"Spike," she whispered, "Shh, I love this song." She led him in the dimly lit living room, Brennan fast asleep on the couch. "Just follow my lead."

At last, my love has come along
My lonely days are over
And life is like a song
Oh, yeah, at last
The skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped up in clovers
The night I looked at you
I found a dream that I could speak to
A dream that I can call my own
I found a thrill to rest my cheek to
A thrill that I have never known
Oh, yeah when you smile, you smile
Oh, and then the spell was cast
And here we are in heaven
For you are mine
At last

They stood at that same place when the song ended, their bodies warm against his other, his face flush from wine and beer, from her body being so close to his own. "You're a natural," she said, breaking the silence. The tension was thick.

"Thanks," he answered, squeezing her hand. "I know, we're supposed to be strictly business, but Buffy, I want to kiss you."

"What's a kiss between friends?" Their lips met. They grasped at one another, hearts pounding, legs, arms, hearts intertwined. Letting go of all inhibition, they made their way to the bedroom. There, between the sheets: they dualed.


When she bent over her jeans unsnapped. Her tight little tank tops and tee shirts showed off her slight belly. She lifted the shirt to assess her stomach in Spike's bathroom. She put her hand on the lump, rubbed it. "Hello," she whispered. "I'm your mommy."

"Okay in there, Buffy?"

"Fine," she called back to him, pulling her shirt down hastily, and swinging the door open. She spent the whole weekend with him, and she was going to accompany him, Brennan, and Emily to a campsite Upstate. They'd be back late that night. Buffy smiled when she caught his eye. "We going to stop at my place, so I can grab some stuff?"

" 'Course."


Buffy stayed behind while they rode horses, not sure whether or not it'd be pushing her luck with the baby. She didn't go on the hot air balloon ride. She strayed behind as Spike walked and talked with his kids, letting her gaze stray too—taking in the sights of Upstate. She had never come here before. She heard the slight plop! of the river streaming next to her. She looked up at Spike for an answer. "A fish," she imagined him saying, or "an otter," and the kids would rush to the bank to catch a glimpse. He must not have heard it.

"Where's Em?" Spike asked, turning back to look at Buffy. Buffy looked quickly back at the river. Without saying anything, she propelled herself into the river, hands clasped neatly above her head to break the water, her body sluicing through the freezing current, blindly reaching for the little girl. There, she grasped Em's shirt, pushed her up, up, up, heard her head break the surface. Someone lifted her body away.

Her lungs were on fire, and she struggled to propel herself further, her legs aching. Several more seconds passed. Where was the surface? It felt like hours.


"You're her husband, I assume?" the doctor asked, fingering the prescription pad in his pocket. Spike stood eagerly.

"Yes," he answered quickly. "Is she okay?"

"She's steady. Her blood pressure's back down, she lost quite a bit of blood...she'll pull through, just needs some supervision. However, we fear she may lose the baby."

"The baby."

"Yes, sir, she's about a month or so along."

"Right, right. The baby. I'm sorry."

"It'll be another few hours before we know for sure. But you can see her, if you like. She's awake."