Angel placed the last pen in the pot carefully, and stood back. The desk
Wesley had assigned him was as tidy as when he had first sat down at it,
and heard Wesley slide the doors to his own office closed, the familiar
sound making him growl with annoyance. He stepped back, and looked at the
objects that had accumulated on the desk. A stake. So Cordy could 'murder
you if you even *think* of going psycho on us', she had told him. Paper.
Lots. And the cute little mug Cordy had stuffed all those pens in. No
photos, or objects to inspire memories. Just the bare essentials. Like
Angel.
He stepped back, and put his coat on, the coat that was a signature of him, and the darkness that clung tantalisingly close. He knew that the essence of what he was fighting recognised evil, and shrank in fear. It was a good coat.
He shoved a stake in his pocket, and strode toward the exit. After a moment fighting with his weakness, he gave in, and turned to survey the different personalities of his staff...ex staff, he berated himself, on each desk. He turned, satisfied, and walked straight into Cordelia who clutched a crossbow, one finely plucked eyebrow arched.
'Where do you think you're going?' she demanded. Angel gestured to the doorway. 'Oh hell no buster, the only way you're getting out of that doorway is with your dusty cremated body floating in the air to the cheesy version of Candle in the wind!' she yelled. Angel winced. 'Cordelia, Wesley has control. You guys were doing fine without me. Carry on. I don't belong here,' he said, as a way of explanation. Her eyes narrowed, and she aimed the crossbow. 'So what? You've decided that yet again big vampy Angel walks alone, a law unto himself? He doesn't like actually bushing up against reality and humans because he might just give in? Well boo hoo!' she said sharply, surprising him. 'You don't give in. We *trusted* you Angel, you were the one who brought us together. The only connection we all have in common. Wesley and I would never have gotten to be friends if it wasn't for you. You don't walk out on that, and I will stake you myself if you attempt to. We lost you once, I don't intend to let you walk out that door anytime soon!'
Angel turned and walked away, to the bottom of the staircase. Then he whipped around and brushed the crossbow out of her hands, his riged forehead and fangs flashing in her viewpoint for a second. He moved so quickly, the bow was gone before she realised he was there. He was at the bottom of the staircase when she moved, calling over his shoulder, 'what was that about trust?'
********************************
Sunnydale, 2002.
Buffy stood with her back pressed against the tree, feeling the gnarled old wood support her, as she resisted the urge to race into Spike's crypt, and lose herself yet again in a moment of feeling.
Why was she fighting the urge? Why did she keep denying herself what her body so clearly craved? Because she was a sucker for punishment- That's WHY. She had a man....pire wrapped around her little finger, so hopelessly in love with her that he would allow her to beat him, scorn him, neglect him and abuse him just to spend a millisecond in time with her. But she was naive and vain, and would rather punish herself than admit she wanted, or needed him.
She would take him for granted and she thought he's always dote on her. But then, hadn't she thought the same about Angel? Yeah. And just look at how that turned out. The last she'd heard of him was that he was busy fighting the good fight in LA. With CORDELIA nonetheless. The thought made Buffy sulk. It just wasn't fair. He should be here, with her, and instead he was off....doing whatever it was he did....with a whole troupe of new people. His new friends. His new family. Meanwhile, she had no one. Even Giles had run out on her.
Exhaling deeply, the slayer pushed herself from the tree and trudged towards her home. Tonight she would feel nothing but alone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Spike lay flat on the tomb, like the corpse he had been over 100 years ago. He could smell her. The simple knowledge that her smell still pervaded the darkness of his crypt had left him with a dull ache where his heart beat a long time hence. He hurt.
He had heard her earlier, stop outside the crypt, awaited her falling into him again, and welcoming her with open arms and accepting the bruises that were his trophies from an encounter with the Slayer. But her pride had stopped her. The pride that placed her above him, the pride that was born of the Council's black and white, evil and good. He thought Buffy had learnt to read the shades of grey. But her falter had been controlled, and the Slayer had run. Not far off, she had to learn to deal, as he was, with the pain of a body that wanted, craved the comfort of another, and the beatings that excited it. But she had fled from him.
Angrily he sat up. He was in limbo, he was no longer accepted by the ranks of darkness, and was openly laughed at by those who were comrades in the war against the light, since the day he had ripped out his heart and given it to the slayer. 'Spike, I don't.. I don't love you. And it's tearing me apart, being with you, but hating you. I can't.. I can't keep doing this. You're...' she had paused. Turned back with the look of pity that crossed every woman's face when she loosed the ties of love that bound her to a man's fantasies. The look h had been given the night of his death. Sick dread filled his stomach. 'You're beneath me,' she'd said sadly, and walked away, into the darkness. He had been broken, torn from his vampiric self that kept all emotions except those linked with violence away, and been mocked by those who could still claim demonic Hyde to their Jekyll.
And yet, he still wanted her. Yearned for her with every fibre of his being. And it was driving him crazy. He was THE BIG BAD. She was the VAMPIRE LAYER...er...SLAYER. It wasn't natural. It was wrong. He knew that they weren't supposed to be together. He'd seen the effects way back when Angelus had been with her. But he couldn't help it.
The poet within him, thought long ago dead, mused. It was just as Shakespeare had written. 'Love and Reason hold little company together.' Love was unreasonable, this he had learnt the hardest way possible.
Forcing the mopey thoughts away, Spike growled and leapt from the tomb. He wasn't going to let this....THING for the slayer hold him back. After all, he was the BIG BAD. Spike. William the Bloody. Not some stupid blonde bint's lap dog.
He took large, determined strides to his crypt door and reached for his duster. Shrugging it on, he realised that this was going to be the turning point of his unlife. Not that he really knew why or how it would be, but he had to do something....anything to rid himself of the torture she'd put him through.
With that in mind, Spike waltzed out of the crypt and disappeared into the darkness of the night.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Anya sat in front of the television, flashing images of the wedding going by blurred by the unfallen tears in her eyes. She watched as she rushed around, beaming with smiles, her relatives and friends congratulating her, and the beautiful dress swirling behind her. All gone. Xander was for a second on screen, then disappeared. Anya blinked back a sob.
Then anger, hot and red flooded over her. She was not going to sit here, like some of the pathetic mortals, limp and weak, not responding to the opportunity to curse their once loved ones. She would show Xander Harris! She picked up a tissue, and looked angrily at the soft pastel colours, then methodically tore it into strips.
An hour later, Anya left her apartment, looking a little like someone that the Scoobies remembered for her dangerous liaisons. A little bit of Faith was back.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Spike strolled into the Bronze, running his hand along the bar. Here he'd sat, moping about Dru, and to moan about the annoying Harmony. Here he'd sat the first day that Buffy had walked away without satisfying what lurked beneath the innocent exterior, shell shocked, and burning with embarrassment. Now he hopped up on the stool with a devil may care expression, prepared to let the world have its way with him. He was free, immortal, and a damn sight better looking than most.
He gazed around the room, not sure exactly what it was he was looking for yet. Then *she* caught his eye. Was that really her? Sizing her up, he realised that it was. Sure, her blonde tresses were unusually curled, and she wore COMPLETELY uncharacteristic black leather on black leather ensemble.... But it was really her. And, as much as he really didn't want to admit it, she looked gorgeous. Wait a tic, was it wrong of him to think of her like that? OF course it was! Especially seeing as it was her kind he was trying to avoid. And yet, even through her tough girl exterior, he saw the glimmer of pain in her eyes. It was similar to his own. Wanting that which she really shouldn't. And for this reason, Spike couldn't help the yearning to walk up and talk to her.
Urgh! What was his problem? Here he was trying to avoid ANYTHING that would remind him even remotely of the slayer and *she* turns up.
"Well screw that!" He muttered aloud, pushing himself away from the bar. He turned to make his way from the club unnoticed. After all, he was the soddin' big bad and the slayer and her pals could just go and f-
"Spike?"
Her voice cut him from his thoughts and he spun to confront her. "Anya."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Buffy studied herself in the mirror carefully. The short blond hair was curled slightly, and she wore a tiny red top, and a pair of her favourite jeans. She nodded.
'No black. Definitely a good sign.' She turned to walk out the room, then dashed back, to slick another layer of lip-gloss on. Who knows who will be there? She told herself to ward off any unwanted conversations with the little voice inside of her head turning cartwheels at the thought of Spike.
****************
'Spike.' Anya gave him an appraising look. Tight jeans. Buffy had dropped him, or she would be being shadowed right around now.
'So what are you doing without the whelp, luv?' Spike asked, a smirk quirking his lips. He'd seen her checking out his ass.
'The whelp should be burning in hell right around now, if Hallie wasn't on vacation. Ya wanna take his place?' Anya demanded crossly.
'And a large helping of PMS from the lady,' Spike said, holding up his hands. 'I didn't come to hit on you. I came to..' he scratched his head. 'T o hit on people who are not you,' he admitted, an apologetic sheepish smile she had never seen before making his eyes shine. Damn he was fine!
'Not PMS. Annoyed. If De'hoffryn hadn't got me into this whole stupid mess then I wouldn't be here,' Anya said angrily, trying not to cry. Spike slid into the chair next to her.
'Here doin' what, pet?' he asked gently. He had experience with crying women.
'Trying to get over Xander,' she admitted, a tear trickling down one cheek. Spike wiped it away softly, and she stared at him. He pulled back quickly.
'So why are you here? Don't give me the Buffalo wings story, I know that you prefer the Fishtank's,' she said sternly, referring to the sleazy dive Faith had frequented.
'Trying to move on,' he replied. She raised one eyebrow, and he blustered, ' this dumb bird left. Miss the shagging.'
'Spike, when will you realise that your pathetic crush on Buffy was seen by everyone? And the waves o sex coming off you and her was appalling after you'd been patrolling,' she said, air quoting the word patrolling. Spike stared at her.
'You knew?' She nodded.
'So you realised that the dumb bitch would tear me up, spit me out, and you didn't *tell* me? Bloody hell, that girl's a man eater, what did you think she'd do with a man...pire! She's a slayer, for pete's sake!' He sat hunched over. Anya put a hand on his back, an oddly motherly motion, averse with the extreme leather corset that seemed to put everything on display.
Spike sat up. 'Drink okay with you?' he asked briskly. Anya nodded.
**************
Half an hour later: Spike slammed the tequila glass down and lined it up.
'So I can't decide what I'm going to do to him. I mean, it was our wedding! I told him ages before that he could stop, and if he really wanted to he could have told me, but to embarrass e in front of everyone,' Anya broke off.
Spike leaned in, and cupped her face in his hands.
'What are you doing?' she whispered.
'Movin' on,' he replied, as he kissed her.
****************
Buffy strolled into the club, and scanned the room automatically for Spike. Her stomach dropped. He was spread out in a corner, his leather duster marking him out as bright as a beacon for her to see, making out with another girl as trussed up in leather as he. Her blonde hair was mussed, and curled, and the two were so engrossed in what they were doing, she doubted he remembered she existed. So much for undying love.
The Slayer, warrior of the light, fled from her ex lover with tears streaming down her face.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Meanwhile, in LA, Angel was losing his mind. He'd come back after a night on the town, drinking it up, only to be lunged at by his 'friends'. When would they realise that even though he loved them and cared about them and all that crap, he needed them to give him his space because otherwise he was bound to go insane and fire them again? (Not to mention sleeping with a painful reminder from his past....Of course, Cordelia could never know that.)Plus, he had a hangover (which meant he'd REALLY REALLY had a lot to drink) and Cordelia's constant nagging was starting to get on his nerves.
He knew she meant well, he really did, but right now he didn't really care. "Cordelia...." He mumbled for the tenth time. "Please....I'm not losing my mind again....I just needed time to think...." He was starting to sober up due to the supernatural vamp healing he had going.
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Are you sure you don't mean you needed to drink?" She tossed back angrily, sizing him up with her usual glare. She paused and seemed to soften. "Look, I get that We can be a little overwhelming sometimes...." He raised his eyebrows, an amused expression playing on his face. She shrugged. "Okay, *I* can be a bit overwhelming....but, Angel, it's only 'cos I care about you....and I don't want to lose you or my pay cheque ever again. You get that right?"
Angel only had to look into her hazel eyes once, before giving way. He sighed. "Yeah.... I get it. But i need you to trust me again." He gave her the patented Angel puppy dog eyes. "Can you do that?"
She brightened a little, and moved to reply, but faltered at the last second. Angel noticed her demeanour's immediate change and wondered what it was behind him that caused her to back away.
The voice sounding out behind him answered his questions. "Now, why would she want to do that?"
He growled and turned to remind his 'guest' of the promise he'd made the last he'd seen them, but stopped in horror at what he saw. His eyes widened. It wasn't possible. There was no way....While his mind raced, only one word could form at his lips. "Darla?"
She nodded, her hand resting on her stomach. "The one and only." She grinned wickedly, but he saw the fear in her eyes. "Now, i want to know what exactly you did to me and how do i get rid of it?"
Angel looked her over. She was a vampire. There was no way it was possible. And what did she mean by what HE did to her? Wait, was he supposed to be the.... no. That was wrong as well. HE was also a vampire. That made it even less possible. Finally he managed to reply. "You.... you're.... how?"
"Pregnant? yes. How? Well, i was hoping you'd be able to tell me." Her eyes flashed gold. "Considering that you're the evil son of a bitch that did this!"
"But you're a....we're both vampires. It's impossible."
She stalked towards him, hand still attached to her slightly rounded abdomen, and he almost felt the urge to run like the wind and into the impending sunlight. However, he maintained his resolve as she approached. Stopping centimetres from where he stood, she tilted her head to the side. "I know that. And you know that. And every stupid other being seems to know that....and yet this THING inside me seems to say otherwise."
He swallowed and nodded. "H-how far along....?"
"Oh I hope this thing gets your brains." The blonde tossed back sarcastically. "Think about it. You kicked me out of here about 5 or so months ago....so logic says...."
He grimaced at his stupidity. But then, he did have an excuse to be so out of it at the moment: he was in shock. He nodded absentmindedly and ran his hand through his hair. Turning to see Wesley he stated, "It's not possible." He had no idea who he was trying to reassure, but it sure wasn't working.
Then another thought hit him. He spun to look at Cordelia. "Cordy...."
She glared stakes at him. "Is she telling the truth?"
"I don't-"
"Or better yet- Did you lie to me and tell me that you didn't have sex with her?"
"Cordy....I-"
It was Darla's voice that cut him off this time. "Lied." She snorted with laughter. "Let me tell you something honey, that's all men do. Especially this one-" She gestured at Angel. "They lie.... and knock you up and then won't take responsibility for their actions. It's a fact of life....and apparently my unlife." The blonde turned and dropped onto the couch, "And no matter how hard I've tried, I can't get rid of this thing! I'm going insane here! I don't want it! I never asked for it!" She started to cry, vamping out with frustration. "And the hormones are making it THAT much harder to be a proper vampire!"
Cordelia softened and rushed to Darla's side, ordering Gunn to fetch a glass of water as she did. Glaring at Angel, Cordelia passed the liquid to Darla and smiled softly. "I'm sorry."
Angel gasped. "What?" The brunette turned to scowl at him, before turning back to fussing over his evil ex. That just wasn't fair. "Cordelia.... I...."
She held up her hand to silence him. "No....Don't even start." "But...."
"I said leave it!"
Dropping his head in defeat, Angel turned to say something -anything- to Wes, before the reality of what Darla had just told him sunk in. He spun around and looked at the blonde. "What do you mean you've tried to get rid of it but you can't?"
The blonde gave him a withering look. Cordy raised an eyebrow.
'Okay, I get it!' Angel said raising his hands.
'You ever *try* shooting yourself in the stomach? Not exactly painless, you know,' Darla snarled at him.
Angel looked hurt. 'Hey, I'm a vampire. Kinda a reason from splitting from Buffy. I didn't *actually* see this coming, you know?!' he yelled. Cordy smirked.
'Angel, you're 250 years old..'
'248,' he growled.
'Whatever. Look, condoms have been around for a while now. It is possible to sleep with a girl and *not* knock her up,' she said reasonably.
'This coming from the girl who got pregnant on a first date?' Angel snapped. Cordelia went pale.
'Okay, *that* one, below the belt. And wait a second...' she looked puzzled. 'How come you're all souled up? ' She looked at Darla. ' You not able to please him or something? Cos I figured that blonde thing would work even if you didn't. '
Darla glared, and Angel resisted the urge to chuckle. Cordy with the claws out was not pretty.
'I have no idea *why* he's not evil. Believe me, I pleased him. I used to be a professional at that, sweetheart. And my boy..' she swallowed, 'was most definitely *pleased*.' She smiled sweetly at Cordy, totally aware of Cordelia's feelings towards her ex boss.
Cordelia's nose wrinkled. 'Honey, if skank pleased him, he'd be poured into a pair of leather pants right around now.'
Darla's eyes widened. She sprang at Cordelia, her hands outstretched. Angel stepped in front.
'Darla, I think you're old enough to deal with a little name calling,' he said.
'You implanted a load of human hormones into me. I'm a demon. I'm bound to go a little skitzo, don't you think?' she sniped. Angel grabbed her hands.
'Not at this moment. You're on my ground, in *my* hotel. I'd appreciate you not killing my friends, until we've figured out what *this*-' he gestured to her slightly protruding belly '-means.' She pouted and sat down.
'Hey people. How's my man, Wes?' Gunn's cheerful shout echoed in the hotel. He came to an abrupt stop in front of Darla.
'Obviously doin' well,' he commented. Darla vamped, and snapped her teeth.
'Not his. Mine,' Angel said tersely.
'Now that is not pretty,' Gunn told Darla. 'You bein' such a fine vampire an' all.' He realised what Angel had said. 'WHAT?'
Angel shrugged. "My reaction exactly."
The young black man edged past the blonde vampiress and stopped at the ex- watcher's side. "So, English, Take it I missed somethin'?"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Spike opened his eyes and groaned. His head hurt something shocking, which meant he'd had a fair bit to drink last night. 'Oh well...' he thought. 'Should clear up soon enough.' Hoisting himself onto his elbows, Spike surveyed his surroundings. He was back in his crypt, though he had no recollection of how or when he had made it back.
But there was something distinctly different about his crypt this morning. Perhaps it was the naked, blonde, ex-vengeance demon sprawled out beside him?
Yeah. That had to be it.
Wait....hold on. Rewind and all that crap. WHO was sprawled out beside him? Spike took a double take and moaned. Why her? She'd been hurt enough times already. Just like him. This would only complicate matters further.
He watched as she stirred and groaned as well. The hangover thing wouldn't be quite as easy to kick for her. She yawned and rolled over to look into his eyes.
One look at the position she was in and she put two and two together. "Aaawww shit." Anya's hair was mussed, and her make up from the night before was smeared over her face. He couldn't resist it.
'Morning luv,' he said lazily, and watched her squirm.
Anya gave the blond an appraising look.
' God, I knew that when humans got over people they slept with trash, but I never thought that it would be this bad!' she said. Spike's cocky smirk fled.
'What? you mean you.... he gestured to the clothes on the floor. ' If I'm filth luv, you're the one who loves to roll in it!' he said, fighting back.
'True. When there is a gallon of tequila crapping up my thought processes. Now I'm dandy, and completely sickened by what happened. Now if you'll excuse me,' she gathered her clothing, ' I assume since you gained pleasure through it I don't have to pay you? I know you're Buffy's whore, but I'm not looking for one myself'.
Anya left, with a heavy headache, as Spike ground his teeth in disbelief, and anger. He had thought only Buffy could be *that* bitchy.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ A few weeks on......
Angel investigations
'I quit!' Cordy hollered. 'I'm not snack food for your mistress, Angel! I'm an American!'
'Don't kid yourself I wanted to eat you,' Darla sneered. ' You wouldn't be appetising if you weren't, say human.'
'Children!' Wesley yelled.
The two females stopped sulkily. Angel heaved a sigh of relief and silently decided to erect a shrine to the ex-watcher. After a few more seconds Darla started to huff and puff about the lack of food.
"...And that's another thing!" She snarled. "You expect me to drink PIG'S BLOOD? I wouldn't go near that crap if it was the last form of blood on earth!"
Angel took a step backwards, hands raised in defeat. "Okay. Okay." He said, "But i can't let you drink human blood. I can't let you hunt. It's against everything i stand for."
Darla stalked towards him, one hand resting on her rapidly swelling abdomen. She glared at him. "And if your *hell spawn* dies because i couldn't provide nourishment?"
"It won't!" Angel growled in response. He took a step towards her, as if trying to intimidate her in return. It wouldn't work, but it was still worth a shot. "My *child* will be healthy because if i have to i will chain you down and force feed you."
Why was she still fighting this? They'd been through the exact same scene everyday for the past 7 weeks, and she *still* argued with him. Cordelia hadn't been too helpful either. In fact, all she had done since Darla showed up was antagonise the aforementioned vamp and threaten to quit when Darla LITERALLY snapped back.
In the middle of his musing, Angel realised something. They didn't actually know anything about this *miracle* of theirs. Sure, Wes had been looking, but they still hadn't found any answers.
Looking at the ex-watcher he tilted his head to the side. "Still nothing helpful i take it?"
"No...." Wesley shook his head. "Still no luck. Sorry Angel."
Darla threw her hands into the air and grunted in frustration. "Argh! All I've wanted to know for the past 7 months is WHAT is it, HOW did it get there-" She rolled her eyes at Cordelia "-As in 'HOW COULD 2 *INFERTILE* CREATURES PUT IT THERE' and, here's the most important, HOW THE HELL DO I GET RID OF IT????"
Angel growled in frustration. "You wont get rid of it. You've tried remember? It didn't work. Something magical protecting it or whatever. Besides, its a miracle and-"
"If you give me that freaking 'Miracle' spiel once more I'll go insane! Remember Dru, lover?" She hissed. "Besides, we don't know what this, this *thing* is yet, thanks to your wonderfully efficient research team!"
Angel cringed and fought the urge to stake her anyway. "They're trying their hardest!"
The blonde rolled her eyes. "Well it's not good enough! I want answers and i want them now!"
"And that's *really* mature." Cordelia snarked in the background. "What are you? 5?"
"Cordy." Angel warned, shaking his head in the classic 'leave it be' gesture. "Not now."
The brunette shrugged it off and stepped towards him as well. "Then when, huh? Wes has been working his ass off looking for *your* answers and has it ever occurred to either of you that we'll all sleep easier once we know what, exactly, from hell you guys created!"
"Why don't ya get a sonogram?" Fred's voice floated across the lobby. She walked towards them, "I mean, it'll probably only answer your basic 'is it demon or human' question. But it's a start, right?"
Wesley grinned. "I believe that's a brilliant idea, Fred." She blushed and he continued to smile at her, before muttering "I only wished we'd thought of it earlier."
"Ah....Wes. One problem." Cordelia said, waving her hand to get his attention. "She doesn't exactly have a heartbeat. How do we explain THAT to a doctor?"
"Well...."
Fred's hand shot up. "Ooh.... I think i know!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Sunnydale....
'Oh crap.' the ex demon shouted loudly, examining the tiny piece of cardboard. People passing by cast looks of shock. 'Haven't you ever seen a pregnant woman before?' she shouted loudly. 'Chock a block of nasty hormones, and right now I'm so gonna *kill* Xander!' Since it was America, the passers by decided it was just another crazy, and kept on passing by. But the ex demon hadn't finished. Not exactly bad with mathematics, she soon realised that Xander plus Anya plus baby was not correct.
*******************************
Spike finished the pinkie on his left hand, and sucking in a non existent breath, carefully started the next nail. His black manicure had to be refreshed every so often, cos who ever heard of a big bad with chipped nail polish?
Then about 120 pounds of hormonal female with a crossbow mucked up the near prefect beauty regime.
'What the f..?' he said disgustedly, glancing up. ' Oh it's you. For a minute there I thought it was the Vampire Layer herbloodyself. Just like old times,' he said sarcastically.
'Can it, Spike,' Anya spat out.
'Hey, you're the lady with death in her hands, I'll keep stum,' he said, holding up his hands.
'Correction. Pregnant lady with death in her hands. And apparently the so called big bad of the undead is still apparently not dead, as I haven't been with Xander for seven months, and since my stomach is not preceding me into your crypt, you do the math,' she said icily, tightening the grip on the crossbow.
'Do you bints not get it? I bloody sang about it, if you'll recall! I' died so many years ago,' he sang huskily. 'I'm dead, luv. Reason the poof scarpered from the Bloodbag with a complimentary stake. Puts paid to the nine to five job and the two point four children.'
'Well the rules have changed. Unless you're insinuating what I really hope you're *not* insinuating, unless you want the story to end, 'and Daddy turned into a pile of dust' you'll agree that I haven't been with a guy except for you. Go figure.'
' But...how?' Spike said hopelessly, gesturing gormlessly, with the now impossibly smeared nails at the still slim girl in front of him.
'Ask another, mastermind. Maybe sautéing your swimmers in tequila stimulates growth. How the hell do I know? All I want is it out, *now*,' she said slowly, aiming the crossbow.
With a little growl of annoyance, he sprang forward, and snatched the bow, and snapped it.
He vamped.
'Now, what were you saying?'
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He stepped back, and put his coat on, the coat that was a signature of him, and the darkness that clung tantalisingly close. He knew that the essence of what he was fighting recognised evil, and shrank in fear. It was a good coat.
He shoved a stake in his pocket, and strode toward the exit. After a moment fighting with his weakness, he gave in, and turned to survey the different personalities of his staff...ex staff, he berated himself, on each desk. He turned, satisfied, and walked straight into Cordelia who clutched a crossbow, one finely plucked eyebrow arched.
'Where do you think you're going?' she demanded. Angel gestured to the doorway. 'Oh hell no buster, the only way you're getting out of that doorway is with your dusty cremated body floating in the air to the cheesy version of Candle in the wind!' she yelled. Angel winced. 'Cordelia, Wesley has control. You guys were doing fine without me. Carry on. I don't belong here,' he said, as a way of explanation. Her eyes narrowed, and she aimed the crossbow. 'So what? You've decided that yet again big vampy Angel walks alone, a law unto himself? He doesn't like actually bushing up against reality and humans because he might just give in? Well boo hoo!' she said sharply, surprising him. 'You don't give in. We *trusted* you Angel, you were the one who brought us together. The only connection we all have in common. Wesley and I would never have gotten to be friends if it wasn't for you. You don't walk out on that, and I will stake you myself if you attempt to. We lost you once, I don't intend to let you walk out that door anytime soon!'
Angel turned and walked away, to the bottom of the staircase. Then he whipped around and brushed the crossbow out of her hands, his riged forehead and fangs flashing in her viewpoint for a second. He moved so quickly, the bow was gone before she realised he was there. He was at the bottom of the staircase when she moved, calling over his shoulder, 'what was that about trust?'
********************************
Sunnydale, 2002.
Buffy stood with her back pressed against the tree, feeling the gnarled old wood support her, as she resisted the urge to race into Spike's crypt, and lose herself yet again in a moment of feeling.
Why was she fighting the urge? Why did she keep denying herself what her body so clearly craved? Because she was a sucker for punishment- That's WHY. She had a man....pire wrapped around her little finger, so hopelessly in love with her that he would allow her to beat him, scorn him, neglect him and abuse him just to spend a millisecond in time with her. But she was naive and vain, and would rather punish herself than admit she wanted, or needed him.
She would take him for granted and she thought he's always dote on her. But then, hadn't she thought the same about Angel? Yeah. And just look at how that turned out. The last she'd heard of him was that he was busy fighting the good fight in LA. With CORDELIA nonetheless. The thought made Buffy sulk. It just wasn't fair. He should be here, with her, and instead he was off....doing whatever it was he did....with a whole troupe of new people. His new friends. His new family. Meanwhile, she had no one. Even Giles had run out on her.
Exhaling deeply, the slayer pushed herself from the tree and trudged towards her home. Tonight she would feel nothing but alone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Spike lay flat on the tomb, like the corpse he had been over 100 years ago. He could smell her. The simple knowledge that her smell still pervaded the darkness of his crypt had left him with a dull ache where his heart beat a long time hence. He hurt.
He had heard her earlier, stop outside the crypt, awaited her falling into him again, and welcoming her with open arms and accepting the bruises that were his trophies from an encounter with the Slayer. But her pride had stopped her. The pride that placed her above him, the pride that was born of the Council's black and white, evil and good. He thought Buffy had learnt to read the shades of grey. But her falter had been controlled, and the Slayer had run. Not far off, she had to learn to deal, as he was, with the pain of a body that wanted, craved the comfort of another, and the beatings that excited it. But she had fled from him.
Angrily he sat up. He was in limbo, he was no longer accepted by the ranks of darkness, and was openly laughed at by those who were comrades in the war against the light, since the day he had ripped out his heart and given it to the slayer. 'Spike, I don't.. I don't love you. And it's tearing me apart, being with you, but hating you. I can't.. I can't keep doing this. You're...' she had paused. Turned back with the look of pity that crossed every woman's face when she loosed the ties of love that bound her to a man's fantasies. The look h had been given the night of his death. Sick dread filled his stomach. 'You're beneath me,' she'd said sadly, and walked away, into the darkness. He had been broken, torn from his vampiric self that kept all emotions except those linked with violence away, and been mocked by those who could still claim demonic Hyde to their Jekyll.
And yet, he still wanted her. Yearned for her with every fibre of his being. And it was driving him crazy. He was THE BIG BAD. She was the VAMPIRE LAYER...er...SLAYER. It wasn't natural. It was wrong. He knew that they weren't supposed to be together. He'd seen the effects way back when Angelus had been with her. But he couldn't help it.
The poet within him, thought long ago dead, mused. It was just as Shakespeare had written. 'Love and Reason hold little company together.' Love was unreasonable, this he had learnt the hardest way possible.
Forcing the mopey thoughts away, Spike growled and leapt from the tomb. He wasn't going to let this....THING for the slayer hold him back. After all, he was the BIG BAD. Spike. William the Bloody. Not some stupid blonde bint's lap dog.
He took large, determined strides to his crypt door and reached for his duster. Shrugging it on, he realised that this was going to be the turning point of his unlife. Not that he really knew why or how it would be, but he had to do something....anything to rid himself of the torture she'd put him through.
With that in mind, Spike waltzed out of the crypt and disappeared into the darkness of the night.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Anya sat in front of the television, flashing images of the wedding going by blurred by the unfallen tears in her eyes. She watched as she rushed around, beaming with smiles, her relatives and friends congratulating her, and the beautiful dress swirling behind her. All gone. Xander was for a second on screen, then disappeared. Anya blinked back a sob.
Then anger, hot and red flooded over her. She was not going to sit here, like some of the pathetic mortals, limp and weak, not responding to the opportunity to curse their once loved ones. She would show Xander Harris! She picked up a tissue, and looked angrily at the soft pastel colours, then methodically tore it into strips.
An hour later, Anya left her apartment, looking a little like someone that the Scoobies remembered for her dangerous liaisons. A little bit of Faith was back.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Spike strolled into the Bronze, running his hand along the bar. Here he'd sat, moping about Dru, and to moan about the annoying Harmony. Here he'd sat the first day that Buffy had walked away without satisfying what lurked beneath the innocent exterior, shell shocked, and burning with embarrassment. Now he hopped up on the stool with a devil may care expression, prepared to let the world have its way with him. He was free, immortal, and a damn sight better looking than most.
He gazed around the room, not sure exactly what it was he was looking for yet. Then *she* caught his eye. Was that really her? Sizing her up, he realised that it was. Sure, her blonde tresses were unusually curled, and she wore COMPLETELY uncharacteristic black leather on black leather ensemble.... But it was really her. And, as much as he really didn't want to admit it, she looked gorgeous. Wait a tic, was it wrong of him to think of her like that? OF course it was! Especially seeing as it was her kind he was trying to avoid. And yet, even through her tough girl exterior, he saw the glimmer of pain in her eyes. It was similar to his own. Wanting that which she really shouldn't. And for this reason, Spike couldn't help the yearning to walk up and talk to her.
Urgh! What was his problem? Here he was trying to avoid ANYTHING that would remind him even remotely of the slayer and *she* turns up.
"Well screw that!" He muttered aloud, pushing himself away from the bar. He turned to make his way from the club unnoticed. After all, he was the soddin' big bad and the slayer and her pals could just go and f-
"Spike?"
Her voice cut him from his thoughts and he spun to confront her. "Anya."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Buffy studied herself in the mirror carefully. The short blond hair was curled slightly, and she wore a tiny red top, and a pair of her favourite jeans. She nodded.
'No black. Definitely a good sign.' She turned to walk out the room, then dashed back, to slick another layer of lip-gloss on. Who knows who will be there? She told herself to ward off any unwanted conversations with the little voice inside of her head turning cartwheels at the thought of Spike.
****************
'Spike.' Anya gave him an appraising look. Tight jeans. Buffy had dropped him, or she would be being shadowed right around now.
'So what are you doing without the whelp, luv?' Spike asked, a smirk quirking his lips. He'd seen her checking out his ass.
'The whelp should be burning in hell right around now, if Hallie wasn't on vacation. Ya wanna take his place?' Anya demanded crossly.
'And a large helping of PMS from the lady,' Spike said, holding up his hands. 'I didn't come to hit on you. I came to..' he scratched his head. 'T o hit on people who are not you,' he admitted, an apologetic sheepish smile she had never seen before making his eyes shine. Damn he was fine!
'Not PMS. Annoyed. If De'hoffryn hadn't got me into this whole stupid mess then I wouldn't be here,' Anya said angrily, trying not to cry. Spike slid into the chair next to her.
'Here doin' what, pet?' he asked gently. He had experience with crying women.
'Trying to get over Xander,' she admitted, a tear trickling down one cheek. Spike wiped it away softly, and she stared at him. He pulled back quickly.
'So why are you here? Don't give me the Buffalo wings story, I know that you prefer the Fishtank's,' she said sternly, referring to the sleazy dive Faith had frequented.
'Trying to move on,' he replied. She raised one eyebrow, and he blustered, ' this dumb bird left. Miss the shagging.'
'Spike, when will you realise that your pathetic crush on Buffy was seen by everyone? And the waves o sex coming off you and her was appalling after you'd been patrolling,' she said, air quoting the word patrolling. Spike stared at her.
'You knew?' She nodded.
'So you realised that the dumb bitch would tear me up, spit me out, and you didn't *tell* me? Bloody hell, that girl's a man eater, what did you think she'd do with a man...pire! She's a slayer, for pete's sake!' He sat hunched over. Anya put a hand on his back, an oddly motherly motion, averse with the extreme leather corset that seemed to put everything on display.
Spike sat up. 'Drink okay with you?' he asked briskly. Anya nodded.
**************
Half an hour later: Spike slammed the tequila glass down and lined it up.
'So I can't decide what I'm going to do to him. I mean, it was our wedding! I told him ages before that he could stop, and if he really wanted to he could have told me, but to embarrass e in front of everyone,' Anya broke off.
Spike leaned in, and cupped her face in his hands.
'What are you doing?' she whispered.
'Movin' on,' he replied, as he kissed her.
****************
Buffy strolled into the club, and scanned the room automatically for Spike. Her stomach dropped. He was spread out in a corner, his leather duster marking him out as bright as a beacon for her to see, making out with another girl as trussed up in leather as he. Her blonde hair was mussed, and curled, and the two were so engrossed in what they were doing, she doubted he remembered she existed. So much for undying love.
The Slayer, warrior of the light, fled from her ex lover with tears streaming down her face.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Meanwhile, in LA, Angel was losing his mind. He'd come back after a night on the town, drinking it up, only to be lunged at by his 'friends'. When would they realise that even though he loved them and cared about them and all that crap, he needed them to give him his space because otherwise he was bound to go insane and fire them again? (Not to mention sleeping with a painful reminder from his past....Of course, Cordelia could never know that.)Plus, he had a hangover (which meant he'd REALLY REALLY had a lot to drink) and Cordelia's constant nagging was starting to get on his nerves.
He knew she meant well, he really did, but right now he didn't really care. "Cordelia...." He mumbled for the tenth time. "Please....I'm not losing my mind again....I just needed time to think...." He was starting to sober up due to the supernatural vamp healing he had going.
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Are you sure you don't mean you needed to drink?" She tossed back angrily, sizing him up with her usual glare. She paused and seemed to soften. "Look, I get that We can be a little overwhelming sometimes...." He raised his eyebrows, an amused expression playing on his face. She shrugged. "Okay, *I* can be a bit overwhelming....but, Angel, it's only 'cos I care about you....and I don't want to lose you or my pay cheque ever again. You get that right?"
Angel only had to look into her hazel eyes once, before giving way. He sighed. "Yeah.... I get it. But i need you to trust me again." He gave her the patented Angel puppy dog eyes. "Can you do that?"
She brightened a little, and moved to reply, but faltered at the last second. Angel noticed her demeanour's immediate change and wondered what it was behind him that caused her to back away.
The voice sounding out behind him answered his questions. "Now, why would she want to do that?"
He growled and turned to remind his 'guest' of the promise he'd made the last he'd seen them, but stopped in horror at what he saw. His eyes widened. It wasn't possible. There was no way....While his mind raced, only one word could form at his lips. "Darla?"
She nodded, her hand resting on her stomach. "The one and only." She grinned wickedly, but he saw the fear in her eyes. "Now, i want to know what exactly you did to me and how do i get rid of it?"
Angel looked her over. She was a vampire. There was no way it was possible. And what did she mean by what HE did to her? Wait, was he supposed to be the.... no. That was wrong as well. HE was also a vampire. That made it even less possible. Finally he managed to reply. "You.... you're.... how?"
"Pregnant? yes. How? Well, i was hoping you'd be able to tell me." Her eyes flashed gold. "Considering that you're the evil son of a bitch that did this!"
"But you're a....we're both vampires. It's impossible."
She stalked towards him, hand still attached to her slightly rounded abdomen, and he almost felt the urge to run like the wind and into the impending sunlight. However, he maintained his resolve as she approached. Stopping centimetres from where he stood, she tilted her head to the side. "I know that. And you know that. And every stupid other being seems to know that....and yet this THING inside me seems to say otherwise."
He swallowed and nodded. "H-how far along....?"
"Oh I hope this thing gets your brains." The blonde tossed back sarcastically. "Think about it. You kicked me out of here about 5 or so months ago....so logic says...."
He grimaced at his stupidity. But then, he did have an excuse to be so out of it at the moment: he was in shock. He nodded absentmindedly and ran his hand through his hair. Turning to see Wesley he stated, "It's not possible." He had no idea who he was trying to reassure, but it sure wasn't working.
Then another thought hit him. He spun to look at Cordelia. "Cordy...."
She glared stakes at him. "Is she telling the truth?"
"I don't-"
"Or better yet- Did you lie to me and tell me that you didn't have sex with her?"
"Cordy....I-"
It was Darla's voice that cut him off this time. "Lied." She snorted with laughter. "Let me tell you something honey, that's all men do. Especially this one-" She gestured at Angel. "They lie.... and knock you up and then won't take responsibility for their actions. It's a fact of life....and apparently my unlife." The blonde turned and dropped onto the couch, "And no matter how hard I've tried, I can't get rid of this thing! I'm going insane here! I don't want it! I never asked for it!" She started to cry, vamping out with frustration. "And the hormones are making it THAT much harder to be a proper vampire!"
Cordelia softened and rushed to Darla's side, ordering Gunn to fetch a glass of water as she did. Glaring at Angel, Cordelia passed the liquid to Darla and smiled softly. "I'm sorry."
Angel gasped. "What?" The brunette turned to scowl at him, before turning back to fussing over his evil ex. That just wasn't fair. "Cordelia.... I...."
She held up her hand to silence him. "No....Don't even start." "But...."
"I said leave it!"
Dropping his head in defeat, Angel turned to say something -anything- to Wes, before the reality of what Darla had just told him sunk in. He spun around and looked at the blonde. "What do you mean you've tried to get rid of it but you can't?"
The blonde gave him a withering look. Cordy raised an eyebrow.
'Okay, I get it!' Angel said raising his hands.
'You ever *try* shooting yourself in the stomach? Not exactly painless, you know,' Darla snarled at him.
Angel looked hurt. 'Hey, I'm a vampire. Kinda a reason from splitting from Buffy. I didn't *actually* see this coming, you know?!' he yelled. Cordy smirked.
'Angel, you're 250 years old..'
'248,' he growled.
'Whatever. Look, condoms have been around for a while now. It is possible to sleep with a girl and *not* knock her up,' she said reasonably.
'This coming from the girl who got pregnant on a first date?' Angel snapped. Cordelia went pale.
'Okay, *that* one, below the belt. And wait a second...' she looked puzzled. 'How come you're all souled up? ' She looked at Darla. ' You not able to please him or something? Cos I figured that blonde thing would work even if you didn't. '
Darla glared, and Angel resisted the urge to chuckle. Cordy with the claws out was not pretty.
'I have no idea *why* he's not evil. Believe me, I pleased him. I used to be a professional at that, sweetheart. And my boy..' she swallowed, 'was most definitely *pleased*.' She smiled sweetly at Cordy, totally aware of Cordelia's feelings towards her ex boss.
Cordelia's nose wrinkled. 'Honey, if skank pleased him, he'd be poured into a pair of leather pants right around now.'
Darla's eyes widened. She sprang at Cordelia, her hands outstretched. Angel stepped in front.
'Darla, I think you're old enough to deal with a little name calling,' he said.
'You implanted a load of human hormones into me. I'm a demon. I'm bound to go a little skitzo, don't you think?' she sniped. Angel grabbed her hands.
'Not at this moment. You're on my ground, in *my* hotel. I'd appreciate you not killing my friends, until we've figured out what *this*-' he gestured to her slightly protruding belly '-means.' She pouted and sat down.
'Hey people. How's my man, Wes?' Gunn's cheerful shout echoed in the hotel. He came to an abrupt stop in front of Darla.
'Obviously doin' well,' he commented. Darla vamped, and snapped her teeth.
'Not his. Mine,' Angel said tersely.
'Now that is not pretty,' Gunn told Darla. 'You bein' such a fine vampire an' all.' He realised what Angel had said. 'WHAT?'
Angel shrugged. "My reaction exactly."
The young black man edged past the blonde vampiress and stopped at the ex- watcher's side. "So, English, Take it I missed somethin'?"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Spike opened his eyes and groaned. His head hurt something shocking, which meant he'd had a fair bit to drink last night. 'Oh well...' he thought. 'Should clear up soon enough.' Hoisting himself onto his elbows, Spike surveyed his surroundings. He was back in his crypt, though he had no recollection of how or when he had made it back.
But there was something distinctly different about his crypt this morning. Perhaps it was the naked, blonde, ex-vengeance demon sprawled out beside him?
Yeah. That had to be it.
Wait....hold on. Rewind and all that crap. WHO was sprawled out beside him? Spike took a double take and moaned. Why her? She'd been hurt enough times already. Just like him. This would only complicate matters further.
He watched as she stirred and groaned as well. The hangover thing wouldn't be quite as easy to kick for her. She yawned and rolled over to look into his eyes.
One look at the position she was in and she put two and two together. "Aaawww shit." Anya's hair was mussed, and her make up from the night before was smeared over her face. He couldn't resist it.
'Morning luv,' he said lazily, and watched her squirm.
Anya gave the blond an appraising look.
' God, I knew that when humans got over people they slept with trash, but I never thought that it would be this bad!' she said. Spike's cocky smirk fled.
'What? you mean you.... he gestured to the clothes on the floor. ' If I'm filth luv, you're the one who loves to roll in it!' he said, fighting back.
'True. When there is a gallon of tequila crapping up my thought processes. Now I'm dandy, and completely sickened by what happened. Now if you'll excuse me,' she gathered her clothing, ' I assume since you gained pleasure through it I don't have to pay you? I know you're Buffy's whore, but I'm not looking for one myself'.
Anya left, with a heavy headache, as Spike ground his teeth in disbelief, and anger. He had thought only Buffy could be *that* bitchy.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ A few weeks on......
Angel investigations
'I quit!' Cordy hollered. 'I'm not snack food for your mistress, Angel! I'm an American!'
'Don't kid yourself I wanted to eat you,' Darla sneered. ' You wouldn't be appetising if you weren't, say human.'
'Children!' Wesley yelled.
The two females stopped sulkily. Angel heaved a sigh of relief and silently decided to erect a shrine to the ex-watcher. After a few more seconds Darla started to huff and puff about the lack of food.
"...And that's another thing!" She snarled. "You expect me to drink PIG'S BLOOD? I wouldn't go near that crap if it was the last form of blood on earth!"
Angel took a step backwards, hands raised in defeat. "Okay. Okay." He said, "But i can't let you drink human blood. I can't let you hunt. It's against everything i stand for."
Darla stalked towards him, one hand resting on her rapidly swelling abdomen. She glared at him. "And if your *hell spawn* dies because i couldn't provide nourishment?"
"It won't!" Angel growled in response. He took a step towards her, as if trying to intimidate her in return. It wouldn't work, but it was still worth a shot. "My *child* will be healthy because if i have to i will chain you down and force feed you."
Why was she still fighting this? They'd been through the exact same scene everyday for the past 7 weeks, and she *still* argued with him. Cordelia hadn't been too helpful either. In fact, all she had done since Darla showed up was antagonise the aforementioned vamp and threaten to quit when Darla LITERALLY snapped back.
In the middle of his musing, Angel realised something. They didn't actually know anything about this *miracle* of theirs. Sure, Wes had been looking, but they still hadn't found any answers.
Looking at the ex-watcher he tilted his head to the side. "Still nothing helpful i take it?"
"No...." Wesley shook his head. "Still no luck. Sorry Angel."
Darla threw her hands into the air and grunted in frustration. "Argh! All I've wanted to know for the past 7 months is WHAT is it, HOW did it get there-" She rolled her eyes at Cordelia "-As in 'HOW COULD 2 *INFERTILE* CREATURES PUT IT THERE' and, here's the most important, HOW THE HELL DO I GET RID OF IT????"
Angel growled in frustration. "You wont get rid of it. You've tried remember? It didn't work. Something magical protecting it or whatever. Besides, its a miracle and-"
"If you give me that freaking 'Miracle' spiel once more I'll go insane! Remember Dru, lover?" She hissed. "Besides, we don't know what this, this *thing* is yet, thanks to your wonderfully efficient research team!"
Angel cringed and fought the urge to stake her anyway. "They're trying their hardest!"
The blonde rolled her eyes. "Well it's not good enough! I want answers and i want them now!"
"And that's *really* mature." Cordelia snarked in the background. "What are you? 5?"
"Cordy." Angel warned, shaking his head in the classic 'leave it be' gesture. "Not now."
The brunette shrugged it off and stepped towards him as well. "Then when, huh? Wes has been working his ass off looking for *your* answers and has it ever occurred to either of you that we'll all sleep easier once we know what, exactly, from hell you guys created!"
"Why don't ya get a sonogram?" Fred's voice floated across the lobby. She walked towards them, "I mean, it'll probably only answer your basic 'is it demon or human' question. But it's a start, right?"
Wesley grinned. "I believe that's a brilliant idea, Fred." She blushed and he continued to smile at her, before muttering "I only wished we'd thought of it earlier."
"Ah....Wes. One problem." Cordelia said, waving her hand to get his attention. "She doesn't exactly have a heartbeat. How do we explain THAT to a doctor?"
"Well...."
Fred's hand shot up. "Ooh.... I think i know!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Sunnydale....
'Oh crap.' the ex demon shouted loudly, examining the tiny piece of cardboard. People passing by cast looks of shock. 'Haven't you ever seen a pregnant woman before?' she shouted loudly. 'Chock a block of nasty hormones, and right now I'm so gonna *kill* Xander!' Since it was America, the passers by decided it was just another crazy, and kept on passing by. But the ex demon hadn't finished. Not exactly bad with mathematics, she soon realised that Xander plus Anya plus baby was not correct.
*******************************
Spike finished the pinkie on his left hand, and sucking in a non existent breath, carefully started the next nail. His black manicure had to be refreshed every so often, cos who ever heard of a big bad with chipped nail polish?
Then about 120 pounds of hormonal female with a crossbow mucked up the near prefect beauty regime.
'What the f..?' he said disgustedly, glancing up. ' Oh it's you. For a minute there I thought it was the Vampire Layer herbloodyself. Just like old times,' he said sarcastically.
'Can it, Spike,' Anya spat out.
'Hey, you're the lady with death in her hands, I'll keep stum,' he said, holding up his hands.
'Correction. Pregnant lady with death in her hands. And apparently the so called big bad of the undead is still apparently not dead, as I haven't been with Xander for seven months, and since my stomach is not preceding me into your crypt, you do the math,' she said icily, tightening the grip on the crossbow.
'Do you bints not get it? I bloody sang about it, if you'll recall! I' died so many years ago,' he sang huskily. 'I'm dead, luv. Reason the poof scarpered from the Bloodbag with a complimentary stake. Puts paid to the nine to five job and the two point four children.'
'Well the rules have changed. Unless you're insinuating what I really hope you're *not* insinuating, unless you want the story to end, 'and Daddy turned into a pile of dust' you'll agree that I haven't been with a guy except for you. Go figure.'
' But...how?' Spike said hopelessly, gesturing gormlessly, with the now impossibly smeared nails at the still slim girl in front of him.
'Ask another, mastermind. Maybe sautéing your swimmers in tequila stimulates growth. How the hell do I know? All I want is it out, *now*,' she said slowly, aiming the crossbow.
With a little growl of annoyance, he sprang forward, and snatched the bow, and snapped it.
He vamped.
'Now, what were you saying?'
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