The ups and downs of a pregnant wife.

Some random drabbles in December and January until I get around to posting the next real chapter.

Mid - December, 2004

Angel had decided a few months ago to reopen Angel Investigations; Buffy had send word to England that a new Slayer 'internship' program would operate though the business cover.

Those new Slayers would get real world slaying experience under the supervisor of the 'professionals'.

After proving their abilities at the Hellmouth, they would be sent to needed areas all over the world.

With a lot of help from Angel's money knowing pal David Nabbit, they got the business up and running again in only a few weeks.

Giles had suggested the entire school just be moved to the Hellmouth, it would be easier to have everyone in one spot rather than have to travel such a distance constantly.

The team all agreed and they found an old office building to convert. The bottom floor would be business related, offices for customers to meet in and a cafeteria to supply food for the building.

The basement was fitted as a training facility, complete with weight rooms and combat facilities. Weapons training and demon hunting would be taught back to back.

There was also a full functioning medical center, since almost all the people working in the building were at least partly supernatural and hospitals tended to ask too many questions when you came in with a sword wound.

The second and third floors were housing for the trainees. Dorm style rooms that were designed for comfort and durability.

The top floor held a few offices, Angel's and Buffy's as well as the research center. All their collections of books and electronics were kept in the library.

Giles, Xander, Willow, Faith and Spike all had an office to call their own if they wished. Sometimes the trainees would request one on one session with their 'teachers' just to talk and vent. Other times customers would want private meetings.

All their offices had at least a couch and a closet to store an extra set of clothes, in-case an all night research session was required.

Most of the building was still under construction and Xander was in charge of it all. Not only was he a construction manager by trade, he was also really good at his job.

Late December 12, 2004

Christmas, their first holiday as a married couple.

In all honesty, Angel hadn't had much experience with holidays over the last few hundred years.

As a man in the 1700's, he'd spend most of them getting drunk.

As a vampire, he used the cheerful times as leverage against his prey, killing and torturing until he too felt the holiday cheer.

With a soul, he spent those times in deep depressing remorse and regret.

Now as a man again, all Angel wanted was to spend time with his loved ones.

They sat on the couch together a few weeks before Christmas and talked about the occasion.

"We've been so busy with renovating Angel Investigations, we've sorta lost track of time. So what are we doing for our first Christmas? A repeat of thanksgiving but with less turkey and more presents?" she asked him with eager curiousness.

He smiled, "Our first Christmas." He repeated, enjoying the sounds of the words. "I don't know. What do you usually do? I'm a little rusty on holiday celebrations."

She leaned against him, using his shoulder as a pillow. "Same as everyone else I guess; spend way over budget on flashy gifts, eat yourself into a food coma, open said presents until you find one you like, and then try not to judge your family against what they bought you."

He grinned and nodded, "Okay, how about decorating?" he asked.

She sat up, "Oh yeah, that's what this house is missing! We're treeless, lacking a tree. Can we get a tree?"

"Of course we can." He pointed across the room to the wall of the bathroom, "We can set it up right there next to the stairs."

December 22, 2004

And that was what they did, now only two days before Christmas Eve they sat together on the couch again, finalizing their plans.

"Willow invited us over to her and Oz's house for Christmas Eve, they're going to have snacks and drinks and watch a Charlie Brown Christmas." Buffy explained to Angel.

He seemed to frown.

"Are you going all anti-social on me again? I thought we talked about that." She asked at his frown.

"It's not that." He clarified as he wrapped an arm around her baby filled waist, "I was just hoping to start a new tradition."

"What kind of tradition?" she asked before he could continue.

He grinned, "Well I was hoping Christmas Eve would be ours. Just us…and our children." He finished rubbing the spot the future Katie was kicking happily from within his wife.

Buffy smiled, at both the concept of a new tradition, and Angel's constant fascination with her belly.

"Children?" she laughed, "Getting a little ahead of yourself aren't you? We have just the one in progress; let's wait for this one to finish baking before we plan to bake more." She said in half joke. She did love this baby, completely, and could stand a few more…but not all at once.

He was silent to that, and she wondered if she gave him the wrong impression with her sarcasm.

"So x-mas eve is ours, what's the plan for Christmas day?" She asked to keep him talking.

He grinned at his tradition idea passing, "Everyone still coming here? Connor will be on school break until after New Years, Dawn too right?"

Buffy nodded, "Yeah, the gang will arrive between 11 and 12, serve dinner around 1:30?" She asked.

He nodded, "Anything's fine with me."

"Well as the cook you get to determine the eating schedule."

"Cook?" He asked a little amused at the idea.

Buffy shrugged, "You make dinner for us most nights, why not for everyone. You're actually good at it."

He snorted, "You sound surprised."

"Well based on the fact you didn't eat human food for centuries, and that little newly human food fiasco…"

He shook his head, "I'm never living that down am I?"

She grinned, "Nope. That memory is a keeper."

"What am I cooking?" he asked to get off the subject.

Buffy thought a moment on what everyone would agree on and what would be easy to cook for so many. "Lasagna?" She finally said, one of her favorite dishes.

Angel thought a moment and nodded, "I can do that."

"And meatballs, we need meatballs with lasagna…it's a tradition." She added.

He nodded, "Can do."

"And garlic bread."

He grinned, "No longer an issue."

Scrooge - December 24, 2004

There was a fire crackling in the fireplace as Buffy descended the stairs into the living room, the smell of pine was rich in the air and the decorated tree glistening in the dim light completed the picture.

She was rapidly discovering winter here was NOT winter in California, where it had only snowed the once. Outside, there was at least 8 inches on the ground, Angel was spending a great deal of the afternoon shoveling the driveway and walkway for tomorrow's company.

She had helped for a little while, but he'd made her go back inside fearing she would hurt the baby with all the movement…it also could have been her turning blue from the cold.

They had plans for a snow blower in their immediate future.

Buffy had just settled into her favorite spot on the couch when the back door in the kitchen opened and she heard Angel muttering curses under his breath as he walked towards the living room.

"You best not be tracking snow and salt onto my clean floor!" She warned, having spent her 'not shoveling time' cleaning for tomorrow's party.

He paused, grumbled more and turned back into the kitchen to remove his boots. A few minutes later he reappeared, barefoot and stripped down to his undershirt and boxers, so he wouldn't leave a trail of snow into the house.

As he passed to head upstairs, the word that popped into her mind to define his mood was growl-y.

"Hey, what's with the scowl? Did something happen?" she asked, feeling a little ignored.

"No." he muttered without slowing down.

"Angel? What's wrong?" she asked, worried. "Come sit with me." She would have gotten up and grabbed his hand before he could reach the stairs, but the blanket she was wrapped in slowed her down a lot, before she could stand, he was ascending the steps.

"Later." He muttered sounding cranky as ever, and then he was gone.

Buffy frowned and started up the stairs after him. When she reached the bedroom, she heard the shower running, figuring he was just cold and tired, she sat on the bed and waited for him to come out. If he hadn't been in such a fowl mood, she might have snuck into the shower with him, but snippy remarks didn't supply much in the romance department.

...

Ten minutes later Angel walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped tightly around his waist, he paused when he noticed Buffy staring at him. "What?" he snipped.

"I think you need to go back in the shower." She told him.

He looked confused, "Why?"

"You missed washing off the grouchy." She deadpanned.

He rolled his eye. "Buffy, I'm not really in the mood for this."

"It's Christmas Eve tonight, you know, the occasion you wanted to spend together; kinda hard to do if you're off in a corner being moody." She said crossing her arms across her chest.

He signed, realizing he was being an ass to her for no reason and lost some of his agitation. "Yeah, I know. Sorry. Just…not having a good day." He admitted.

She patted the spot next to her on the bed.

He walked closer but didn't sit.

"What happened?" she questioned, just now noticing him trying to hide he was limping slightly.

"Nothing." He replied too fast.

Knowing he was not going to tell her without coercion, which could take a while, she just went with her instincts and ripped the towel off him.

He tried to grab the towel back, but she was too quick. He didn't bother trying to cover up his manhood, he wasn't shy about nakedness, it was a large black and blue bruise on his butt he had been hiding.

"What happened?" she asked when she saw the bruise.

While she was gaping at the injury, he grabbed the towel back. "Fell." He muttered while re-wrapping the cloth around his waist.

"You fell? Angel, you're as hard to bruise as me, you don't just fall and get a bruise that bad.

He shifted, "I fell, honestly." He said truthfully.

"Fell from what?" she demanded, getting mad he was evading her.

He was silent a moment, then grumbled, "The roof."

They lived in a two story house, but the roof was pitch rather high.

Her eyes widened, "You fell off the roof! Angel! Why didn't you say anything? Are you ok? Wait, why where you on the roof?"

He shook his head, "I'm fine, bruised, but fine. Doesn't matter why." He told her turning away to pull some clothes out of his wardrobe.

"It does matter!" she shot back, angry at him for doing something that could have gotten him either killed or injured. She really didn't want their first holiday as a married couple to be their last…or have the memory of his death tainting the holiday forever.

"Fine." He sighed, figuring it was better to just tell her than face the wrath of pregnant wife Buffy. "I was trying to put up those stupid lights everyone else has on their houses, I slipped and fell."

She looked at him a moment than asked, "That's it?"

His brow furrowed confused and angry at that, "What do you mean 'that's it'?"

She shrugged, "Well the way you were hiding it, I thought something worse happened, like demons or something evil…not just 'whoops I slipped'."

He shook his head, "Demons would have been preferred."

"Why's that?" she asked, wondering what was going on in that head…also wonder if maybe he hit his head.

"At least I would have had an excuse if I were being attacked by something and not just being clumsy."

She laughed, finding the whole conversation ridiculous.

He practically growled in anger she was laughing at him.

"You're mad you fell off the roof?" She said still laughing, "Angel, you have no reason to be mad, I mean, I have a reason to be mad at you for being an idiot and climbing an icy roof…but that lack of common sense comes with the Y chromosome so it's not really your fault, it happens. There's no reason to get all growl-y about something so trivial." She scolded.

"I'm pushing 300 Buffy, I've fought demons and demigods and been to Hell…and I fall off my roof onto my ass…Yeah, I'm mad." He defended.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his chin since he wouldn't bend lower. "You're only human now Angel, well human with some special features…but you are human, just like me. Just because I'm a slayer doesn't mean I'm infallible, and neither are you. That doesn't make me love you less, if anything; it makes me love you more. It makes us equal."

He was silent a moment, pondering her words. Figuring she was right, he answered a minute later. "I suppose." He looked down at her, looking up at him, and brushed a lock of her long blond hair behind her ear and gave her forehead a sweet kiss.

"Did I melt that icicle of irrational anger or are you still being scrooge?" She asked him.

He grinned and shook his head, "No, I'm not angry anymore. Hard to be mad when I'm with you. I'll be cheerful enough, as long as I don't need to sit." He admitted.

"Good" she said pulling away but grabbing his hand, dragging him towards the stairs, "I'll sit while you make me a peanut butter and pickle sandwich."

He halted them at the bedroom door, "I will, just let me put on some pants first." He said indicating the towel about his waist.

"You could also forgo the pants." She suggested.

"A little cold for that." He said, indicating the house wasn't that warm.

"Doesn't seem to be a problem with you." She smirked.

"20 seconds tops" He told her and headed to grab some clothes.

She was still on the top steps when he slid in beside her, helping her down the stairs. With her center of gravity constantly shifting it was hard to get her balance sometimes.

Ten minutes later he was fiddling with the ornaments on the tree while she ate her hormone induced craving sandwich.

Fireworks - December 31, 2004

"It's almost time." Angel whispered into her ear.

Buffy slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him.

He was lying behind her on the couch, one arm holding her against him, the other just starting to trail down the length of her arm.

"Already?" she yawned and rolled onto her back so she could see him better, "I guess I nodded off there for a second." She admitted.

He smirked, "More like an hour."

She frowned, "Really? I guess this lack of slaying is doing some serious damage to my night-owl reputation."

He kissed her temple, "You didn't miss much, the reporters were just blabbering some useless filler until the ball dropped. You're awake for the good part."

They sat up and she focused on the TV hanging from the wall in front of them, the countdown to 2005 was about to begin.

As she sat there with Angel's arms around her, she looked down at the silver Claddagh wedding ring on her finger, and then to the swell of her abdomen. In a few weeks it would be her 24th birthday.

'Never in my wildest dreams did I even think I'd live to see 24, never mind being married to Angel and expecting our first child.'

She smiled. Life was finally giving her a break.

'Oh no! Just thinking that means the house will fall down us or we're going to be attacked by aliens…or…oh…the apocalypse! I just issues in the rise of the apocalypse with my thoughts!'

Her crazed internal rant was swept away as Angel began to count down in her ear.

10…9…

A smile crossed her lips.

8…7…

She turned to face him.

6…5…

Her hand raised and brushed his cheek.

4...3…

Said hand looped around his neck, fingers tangled in his hair.

2…1

Their lips met.

They forgot about the ball.

They didn't watch the fireworks.

They were busy making their own.

Late January 2005

Angel walked into the living room; Buffy was lounging on the couch, paging though a magazine with one hand, the other resting on her five month baby-swollen stomach. He smiled when he saw her; it wasn't a conscious reaction, just looking at her always made him happy.

He quietly walked over, and slid into the spot beside her. "Hi."

She turned and smiled at him, "Hey."

"What areyou doing?" he asked as he shifted behind her, wrapping his arms around her belly from behind.

She sighed heavily and closed the magazine in frustration."Being so incredibly bored I'm actually thinking about trying to read that book you have on the bureau." She replied sullenly.

"You don't know how to read German." He deadpanned.

She shrugged, "It might be fun trying to sound it out, or I could make up a story, kinda like watching a really crappy movie with the sound off and adding your own voice." She explained. "Oh, maybe I should try that!"

"You need a hobby." He commented.

"What I need is to do something!" she exhaled, "I'm pregnant, not cripple! Between you and Giles I'm not even allowed to work out! Pregnant woman work out!"

"Not like you do." He pointed out. He rubbed his hand on her belly. "Listen Buffy, I know you're feeling confined…"

"Confined?" she said, voice growing louder as she spoke, "Confined!"

She pulled out of his grasp and stood, looking down at him sitting on the couch and pointing her hand at him in frustration, "I'm going out of my mind! I have all this energy and no way to work if off! I'm built to slay things, and you have no idea how much you're starting to look slayable right now!"

She was pacing now, desperate for any movement at all to ease the intense energy buildup in her.

He stood and tried to hold her, she moved away and yelled at him, "It's all your fault!"

He backed off, clearly hurt from her words. With a brooding grimace crossing his features, "I'm sorry." He apologized, feeling horrible for what pregnancy hormones were doing to his wife.

She sighed, "No, I'm sorry…I didn't mean that." She walked over to him and pulling him into a hug to keep him from running off to wallow in brood. "I love that there's a little part of you growing in me, it's something I never thought I'd experience, I wouldn't give it up for the world. It's just this no-slay policy mixed with psycho hormones is like a Molotov cocktail in me. I just…I need to burn off some energy…like…now."

He thought a moment, on what she could do. He couldn't let her slay, it was too risky for their baby.

His eyebrows suddenly shot up as he thought of something. A sly grin spread across his lips as he bend down and swung her up into his arms and headed for the stairs, she laughed and after a moment asked, "What are you doing?"

"You did say you needed to burn some energy…" he said is his best sexy voice.

She sent him a wild grin. "Does that count?"

"You tell me."

She thought a second and replied eagerly, "Defiantly."

She pulled his lips to hers as he kicked the bedroom door shut.

Late January 2005

Angel was asleep.

Buffy was on her side, hand propping up her head and she was just watching her husband. It had been nine months since he regained his heartbeat. Even now she still had trouble believe it.

This whole life just felt like a dream sometimes.

This wasn't something she could have dreamed up, not that this wasn't exactly what she wanted, it was, but she wouldn't have dreamed it. She didn't let herself have dreams like this; they were too painful since they never came true. The life of a slayer is what she had dreamed of, live for the day because it will most likely be your last.

No this would have to be Angel dreaming.

As she watched him, she wondered if she woke him now, if she would just vanish…if she was only here because right now he was dreaming about her, as his wife and carrying his child.

'God, these pregnancy hormones are making me crazy!' She thought rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of the idea.

She shook her head to clear it of those kinda of useless thoughts and just watched him again.

He stirred in his sleep, mumbled something intelligible and seemed to be frowning. After a moment the garble became a 'no' and his brow wrinkled in discomfort.

'He's having a nightmare again.' She thought sadly.

She remembered he got them a lot during their first month together; he tried to deny it, or told her he didn't remember them, but she knew. She also knew how to stop it.

A few seconds after the nightmare started, Buffy slipped against him and rested her head on his chest.

The action was simple but effective. With her touch his fearful expression calmed, his mind eased as the nightmare dissipated. A moment later, he was sleeping peacefully again.

'Like magic.' She thought with a smile. She loved that her touch alone was so powerful on him.

As she lay there she thought back to those first few months, how he reacted to becoming human again, it was interesting to say the least.

'He may be over 250 years old, but when it came to being human, he might as well have been 2. That first week at the Hyperion had been a riot. When the 'we can have sex!' had worn off (well, subsided a tiny little bit) and he really started to explore his new humanity. I'm really surprised (and thankful) he didn't have a heart attack that first week.

He had been crazy about food, almost obsessively. He wanted to try everything…like at once. He found out the hard way some flavors just don't mix; like beer and chocolate, that horrible peanut butter, ketchup, mayo and mustard sandwich, or coco puffs with OJ. I didn't let him go near the fridge alone for a week after that.

The funniest thing was whenever he passed a mirror or reflective surface he'd virtually jump out of his skin. I guess I really can't blame the guy; he didn't have a reflection for two and a half centuries. I suppose that would make it easy to forget you're looking at yourself, and not someone else, if you couldn't see what you look like for so long.

I swear, he stood in front of the mirror for hours, everyday! I'm surprised his hair didn't fall out considering how often he tried to 'fix' it. I had to coax him away from his reflection with either food or sex. Occasionally both.

The other comically ridiculous reaction had to be sunlight. I lost count of the number of times he auto-reflexed back from the rays that spilled from the windows in the morning out of subconscious fear of burning, it always took him a second to remember he was human now.

He'd only dove off the bed the once, and boy was that fun to watch. There's nothing like seeing a fully grown (and naked at the time) man dive off a bed while running in mortal fear from absolutely nothing.

He hadn't been thrilled at how hard I was laughing. Of course, he had then yanked the sheet I was doubled over on off the bed, taking me with it. At least I landed on him instead of the floor. We stayed there a while, there is actually a lot of useful space down there.

He's better now. Not 100% yet, but getting there. He can be left alone with food now and be trusted not to make himself sick with overeating or horrible combinations. Actually, he a really good cook, when you supply him with the ingredients and he doesn't add his own 'flavors'.

The bathroom time has decreased substantially, but I know he's just standing in there sometimes, making faces at the mirror.

He still does a 'safely test' when he walks into the sun. He thinks I don't notice when he puts his hand out into the light first, just to make sure he doesn't burn.

I guess it's kinda like when you're stuck in the clear glass-walled 'fun house' in an amusement park. (Why is it called a fun house anyways, does anyone actually find being lost and confused fun?) You keep your hand held out in front of you so you don't flatten your nose on the invisible wall.

Or if you're me, just look for the smudges floating in air where the previous 'losers' ran their faces into them first. Hey, being a Slayer isn't always about super abilities, sometime a little common sense is worth more than strength or speed or healing. It's especially helpful if you can avoid needing the super healing in the first place.

So I guess Angel's little quirks are a good thing, lets me know he hasn't lost his sense of self-preservation. He needs all he can get, especially if I'm carrying his kid.

I will not raise a fatherless child. I think he's finally getting that picture. I say it to him enough, usually as I'm bandaging his wounds.

I feel bad thinking it, but sometime I do wonder if he hasn't taken a few too many blows to the head. I know he's being careful; he wants to see this baby born as much as I do (well since he's not carrying it inside him 24/7, I can guess not as much as me).

Something tells me he's awakened. That something would be his hand, and exactly where it is and what its doing is none or your business.

I suppose I'll indulge him, he did buy me a stunningly beautiful pair of Claddagh earrings for my birthday. Not to mention these prego hormones are driving my libido like a rented Ferrari.'

Early February, 2005

"You don't love me anymore."

That was Buffy's voice, but I have no idea what she's talking about.

"Huh?" I ask, waking up from partial sleep. "What do you mean by that? Of course I still love you. Why would you even think that?"

'Note to self, watch what you say, her hormones might slay you if you don't'

"We haven't had sex in over a week." She mumbled it so quietly I almost don't hear her.

"I…I thought you didn't want to, you've been really tired lately." I offer carefully.

"I have been." She countered, "What, I can't be both tired and horny?"

'Just try to keep your head above water'

"I'm sorry, if you want sex…"

I reach my hand out to her, so I can bring her closer. She slaps it away.

'Ow, man that stings.'

"So what, now I get sympathy sex? I don't think so pal!" she spits out.

'I'm drowning again, not sure how I even got in the water, but I'm sinking fast.'

"Buffy, I don't know what you want from me." Honesty might work.

'Oh shit, now she's crying.'

"I want you to love me again." She balls.

'Do I reach out to her? Do I say something? Do they have a 'Pregnant wife, for dummies' book?'

"I never stopped, I swear." I say this and moved to hug her to me.

'Oh thank god she didn't blow. Now I know how the Bomb squad feels when they about to cut the red wire.'

"Shh, don't cry my love." I kiss the top of her head. When she doesn't hit me, I kiss her again on her forehead, and then move to kiss the tears from her cheeks.

Her lips find mine before I can get to them, then I find myself on my back, Buffy straddling my waist.

'I seemed to have been pulled from the water.'

Her hands are all over me, every switch of desires for her is being flipped to 'on'. I desperately want to flip her over and bury myself in her as far as I can go…further even, but I know she's not comfortable on her back anymore. Six months of baby in her belly makes missionary a distant memory. Not that I mind where she is right now, sex and Buffy, it's always perfect.

"Oh" she gasps and grabs my hand, pressing it firmly on her tummy. "She's moving! Kicking like crazy, can you feel it?" she asked in joy and eagerness.

I smile, awed whenever I feel the little kicks. "She's dancing."

It almost makes me forget the painful arousal Buffy's erected in me.

"I love you" she says and leans down to kiss me again as I rub the flicking spot on her belly.

"I love you." I repeat to her, my entire body wanting to show her how much, in actions instead of words.

I feel Buffy's fingers pulling at the strings of my sweatpants. I have never hated a string before; I want to rip the stubborn tie to shreds at the moment for causing her delay.

Right before she pulls me free, her hand hesitates then pulls back, moving to the spot on her belly that our child is kicking steadily.

"I can't" she says with apologetic eyes and pulls back, quickly getting off me and rolling over with her back to me.

'Oh my god I want to scream.'

"Buffy?" I ask, taking a second to try and cool my heated loins, without much luck by the way. "What's wrong? Are you ok?" I ask, concerned there is something wrong with the baby.

"She's moving." Buffy says simply, as if that could explain anything.

"She's always moving, that's what she does in there…she doesn't get cable." I joke.

I can feel her frowning. Joke flopped.

She turns over and looks at me, "I know, it's just…she's right there. We can't…I can't…not right now. I'm sorry."

'Ship is sinking again. As the captain, I guess I'm going down with it.'

I nod, swallow my anger, mostly over my painful arousal. "I understand." That's what I say at least, I really don't. Seems like the most evil thing she can do to me right now, get me so hard it feels like I'll break then cast me aside like a used condom…without the benefit of the sex part…

I push myself up, slowly and painful out of bed.

"Where are you going?" she asked almost afraid.

"Shower…cold, cold shower." I mutter, hoping the icy water will help ease my throbbing groin.

She seems to notice now why I'm stiff in moving.

Before I can move away from the bed, her hand locks onto my wrist and before I know it she's pulled me down onto the bed again.

"Don't" she whispers then resumes kissing me.

'I feel like a damn yo-yo. Well at least the yo-yo gets to go for a spin…'

"This isn't going to make that go away." I tell her, indicating my arousal.

"I don't want it to." She retorts.

I could ask why, but she's kissing down my neck, to my collarbone. God I love when she kisses there…and she's moving lower, to my left nipple now…I think she's trying to get to me to lose myself in my pants…I hate to admit it's tempting.

I'm about to stop her, to tell her if we can't…then she REALLY needs to cease and desist, right now! I don't get as far as opening my mouth when she slips beneath the sheets.

I'm intrigued now.

She's kissing again, along my abs, following down my happy trail…

'oh god!'

I'm not really sure when my sweats were pulled down, all I'm aware of is Buffy's mouth around me; her hot succulent lips, her talented wandering tongue, the light nip of teeth every now and again. Her soft warm hands; gripping and teasing, stroking along my length, gently squeezing my family-making jewels.

My eyes roll back in my head as I feel her working her magic, I'm sure I moan, but my thoughts just aren't coherent enough at the moment to be sure. It isn't long before she releases me into her awaiting mouth. I feel her swallow me down, lick me clean.

"Better?" she asked me as she lays atop my chest, as much as she can with her baby belly anyways.

I take a moment to regain coherent thought then answer, "Much" I admit.

The anger and frustration, worry and guilt are all gone, now…just peace. I didn't realize how tightly wound I was until she pulled my trigger.

"Funny, sex used to be my downfall, now it's lack of sex." I observe.

"Can't go a week without your Buffy fix huh?" She asks with a grin.

"You've spoiled me, now I'd addicted." I tell her, and place a kiss on her brow.

"Great" she says playfully rolling her eyes, "My husband's a sex junkie."

I laugh, Buffy always gave me a natural high, never could figure out just exactly it was about her. Her scent? Taste? Blood? Power? Still don't know, don't really care either. I love her completely, that's all that matters.

She cuddles closer to me and I run my fingers along her hairline, brushing back a few unruly blond strands. "Only with you."

She smiles; I feel it against my chest.

I can tell she's not aroused anymore; her pregnancy is funny that way. One minute she's all hot and steaming, the next she's an iceberg.

'Let's hope I don't turn into Titanic.'

A few minutes later I realize she's fallen asleep. I grin, I love when she falls asleep on my chest. I kiss her crown, and then close my eyes to join her.

'I've survived another storm; it'll be smooth sailing this evening.'