Disclaimer: Characters not mine, wish they were, or the mess of Season 6 would have never happened (grumble grumble)

Summary: Someone in Sunnydale has skipped their monthly, and it's not who we all think it is. But don't think somehow Buffy and Spike aren't involved (and no, it wasn't an orgy). I promise, it's not going to be another "Buffy's preggers" story I swear . . . although I like to take ideas that lots of people use and twist them around in my strange, scary head to suit my purposes. Set around the beginning of S7.

Pairing: B/S, X/A, maybe some action for Willow later, haven't decided yet, lol

Rating: PG-13

A/N: I got all kinds of fics up the yin-yang, it's probably a little dumb to be starting another one with school and all, but I'll try and see if this is worth continuing, I just had the idea and couldn't pass up the opportunity to try it out. The premise is a little ridiculous, but we'll see how it goes. Also, I said this is set around S7, but I'm not sure just how far, because I don't really want to have to go through the crap of getting Buffy and Spike over their issues with the obligatory sniping at each other when Spike returns and eventually getting back together. I think I'll just have it be AU where Spike has returned and already gotten back together with Buffy. It'll mess up things time-wise a bit, but hey, I can do whatever the hell I want with my story, right?



Chapter One: Baby-less Buffy



"He's so cute! He's so precious!"

Buffy was bobbing the curly blonde mop-topped toddler on her knee and it gurgled responsively in delight.

"Isn't he the cutest?" she proclaimed to Dawn, sitting next to her on the couch.

"He's cute as cute babies go. I mean, pretty standard if you ask me," Dawn responded, gazing at the charming creature casually.

Buffy gave her sister a stormy look and wrapped her arms around the child defensively. "How dare you compare this baby to the world of inadequate other babies? He's like . . . Lord of the Babies. And look! Look at his cheeks! Aren't they the cutest thing ever known to man?" She nudged the velvety mound of soft skin with delight. "Like buttah, I tell you!"

Dawn laughed. "I've never seen you like this before, Buffy. Babies certainly have an effect on you."

"Yes but especially HIM. Because he's mine, mine, all MINE." She hugged the squealing baby to her chest, carefully, as to not break his fragile bones with her Slayer strength.

"Yeah, except for the part where he's NOT," Dawn pointed out. She glanced down at her watch. "And Mrs. Pfiefferson is coming in ten minutes to pick James up, so don't go and get too attached to him now."

Buffy frowned despondently at her babysitting charge. "A world of sorry to be letting you go, little feller," she pouted. She leaned down towards him conspiratorially "If I had it my way, I'd scrap the twenty bucks and keep you always."

"Since when did you go all fawny and Mother Hen-y around kiddies?" Dawn asked, making a face as she began to clear the crayons and mess of toys that James had left in his wake.

Buffy shrugged, still cradling James, who was chewing on a lock of her golden hair. "I don't know, just recently I guess. I mean, I can't help it, kids are . . . CUTE." She smiled blissfully as she tweaked James' little button nose. Getting up, she bounced him up and down as she paced around the room. "Plus you know," she started in a tone more reflective. "I just keep thinking about it in the Slayer point of view. The whole 'you'll probably die before you reach the ripe ol' age of twenty-five'. It makes you want to take things at a non-leisurely kind of pace."

Wide-eyes from Dawn. "You mean, you're actually thinking about having a. . ." she gestured towards James with incredulity. " . . . A THAT?"

An expression of conflicted wistfulness passed over Buffy's face at the inquiry. "No," she replied, rather unconvincingly. "Because, umm, hey, only prospective fathers include an undead ghoul here." She deflated a little more, thinking of the Not-So-Much-Evil-Anymore Dead she called her boyfriend and his glaringly deficient supply of swimmers. Seeing Dawn's wary glance, she straightened and donned a cheerful air. "Look, no one's thinking about heavy plans for imminent mom-age right now, not to worry."

Dawn still gave her sister a skeptical half-frown. "I take it back, you were always like this. I remember now. When we were kids, all you would do was play Mother Dearest. Even if you couldn't find your dolls, you wrapped a loaf of bread in a blanket and sang lullabies to it. You would get mad at Mom if you didn't get to hold me as much as she did. You made me call you Mommy until I was at least two."

"So I have a highly attuned maternal instinct." Buffy continued focusing on James as he turned his attentions to gnawing her pink shirt, already coated in drool. "Understandable. I mean, I AM the Slayer. Protector and defender of all that's righteous and good in the world. Maybe the Powers That Be bestowed that instinct in me so I'd care more about saving the world, not slack on the job."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but you made a terrible mother to me then. You dropped me twice and tried to make me eat glue."

"Hey! It wasn't my fault! To a six year old kid, a glue and milk bottle almost looks identical!"

"Ha, and you call yourself Protector of the Righteous. Try Super- Wrongness."

The doorbell rang loudly, interrupting such loving sisterly bonding. Getting up from the floor, Dawn answered the door, sweeping it out widely to display a ragged and harried thirty-something mother wearing a large sweatshirt, covered with dried spit (presumably the work of Little James) with her hair all mussed together in one of those horrendously huge ponytail holders. "Hey," Mrs. Pfiefferson sighed breathlessly. "Sorry I'm late, the clothes at the cleaners were taking forever, and when I stopped by the market to get James' formula, the line was tediously long there too." The woman looked ten seconds away from a total meltdown.

"It's okay, I enjoyed looking after James," Buffy chirped happily, handing the child to his mother's weary arms. "He's a pleasure to take care of."

"Oh yeah, he's a real joy." His mother looked too gruff to sound sincere. She shifted James in her arms when he began screaming and tugging her hair. "He wasn't too much of a racket was he? He has a massive appetite for destruction and thinks himself a prodigy of a graffiti artist. You kept him away from any permanent markers and walls, I hope?"

Buffy laughed. "No, he was a fine little critter during his visit. A few mishaps here and there, and I won't even began to describe the state of the kitchen, but he was, for the most part, a sweet lil' angel." She kissed his forehead and was rewarded with a gleeful spat in the face by James while Dawn suppressed a giggle.

Mrs. Pfiefferson smiled weakly. "I used to think that the first few months I had him, that he was the most perfect thing in the world who couldn't do a speck of wrong . . . then he learned how to crawl. He's been known as the household devil ever since." She looked affectionately down James and nudged his sausage-like arms gently. She looked back up at Buffy. "Trust me, you'll know what it's like when you have one. You're lucky you don't know now."

Buffy was instantly thrown back into a world of thoughtful wistfulness. Her hand went absently to her stomach, where she knew a child would likely never be. It felt hopelessly hollow and cold inside. It pained her beyond description to see a fat adorably tiny mini-human in front of her and know that she could never have one. But she pretended to feel only advantageous relief as she responded to Mrs. Pfiefferson. "Yeah," she smiled breezily. "A lucky one I am." She accepted the money Mrs. Pfiefferson handed her and gave a last little kiss to dear James as his mother carried him out to the massive monster mini-van in the front yard. Then, quietly and a bit somberly, she closed the door and slumped against it, noting how quiet and lonely the house suddenly became with absence of churlish and childish screams echoing throughout the rooms. Dawn detected the faint sadness in her sister's expression and neared her carefully.

"You okay?"

"Huh?" Buffy shook her hair out, breaking her reverie. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"You were lying weren't you? You don't really think you're lucky," Dawn murmured quietly.

Buffy sprang back into action, clearing the broken crayons from the floor. "What are you talking about Dawn, I'm fine."

"No you're not. You're serious about the kids thing. You want to be just like Mrs. Pfiefferson with her bad hair and her soccer-mom car and her slime-covered t-shirts. You want to be a mom."

Buffy paused and reveled in the thought of how indeed nice it would be to be Mrs. Pfiefferson, with her messy cotton clothes, endlessly picking up toys as James ran shrieking about the house in his darling little bare feet, waiting for her husband to come home. He'd lurch into the door at 5, smiling tiredly after a long day at the office and wanting to know when dinner was going to be. She wondered how Spike would look in a business suit with briefcase. She blinked twice and shook her head again. "No I don't," she insisted.

"Liar. I saw you looking at Mrs. Pfiefferson holding James as if the sight was heaven on earth. I saw you touching your belly as if you wish you had a James of your own."

Buffy sighed and sank into the couch. "Maybe I did. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Dawn softened a bit and went over to sit next to her. "Of course not . . ." she paused, not knowing what to say next. In a quieter tone, she asked, "Have you ever talked about it with Spike?"

Buffy scoffed, finding the very idea ridiculous. "Please. That issue? With Spike? It'd be like asking him to tell me what personality traits he likes most in Angel. Why would he ever want a baby?"

"Why wouldn't he? He loves you more than anything, why wouldn't he want to start a family with you?"

"Dawn . . ." Buffy sighed, obviously uncomfortable to be talking about a subject she had long considered. ". . . It's not even an option. Spike and I couldn't even start a family if we wanted to. Rule the first regarding vampires: not prime procreational partners." Her mouth got tight when thinking of long-ago aspirations that had come to the same realization, and how much pain it had caused then. With Spike, it was even more painful, because she resolutely knew she would be spending the rest of her life, however long it may be, with him. The addition of a child would make their union even more blissful, so the knowledge it could never be had gained a sharper sting.

"You don't know that," Dawn pointed out. "We ARE living on the Hellmouth, all kinds of weird, funky, mystical high jinks takes place here. So you never know. That and you are in a fate-defying relationship anyways. Souled vampire, vampire slayer, doesn't happen a lot." Her eyes went wide as she amended, "Well okay, so not more than twice."

"I don't know, whatever," Buffy muttered, getting back up from the couch and moving towards the door when the doorbell rang. "All I know is that it doesn't help me to be dwelling on stuff that will probably never have the likelihood of happening, so why think about it? I'm obviously not meant for babies. I'm baby-less Buffy. One who does without the babies. It's no big. I'll just not think about it, no ponderance of the joys of motherhood whatsoever. The last thing I want to do is think about having children." Flinging open the door, Willow stepped into the foyer with a pinched, white face, wringing her hands nervously.

"Buffy, I'm pregnant," she announced gravely.

















TBC...okay so I haven't really explained anything yet, but I'll get to it, I hope I can post the next chapter really soon!