Buffy wearily trudged through the door tired and dishevelled with the odour of old Doublemeat Palace grease overpowering even the smell of vanilla. She threw her hat, which had a cow on it, onto a chair but felt her spirits lift as she spied the familiar blond figure that was waiting in the lounge for her. He wore a black leather coat and tight black jeans and had peroxided slicked back hair.
"Xander what the hell have you done to yourself?", Buffy cried looking over her strangely garbed friend.
"It's my new look", Xander replied. "Do you like it?"
"No, and I still wont date you," Buffy snapped. "And where the hell is Spike?"
"He's over there", Xander said pointing to the black coated, peroxide figure who was sitting on the couch. Buffy quickly realised that this person had blue eyes and very high cheekbones so therefore had to be Spike.
Xander let himself out the backdoor and left.
"Slayer", Spike drawled, unable to say Buffy's real name. "You come home early for a tumble then, luv? Come to press that hot little Slayer bod against mine, pet?", Spike said, still not saying her name.
"Spike!", Buffy cried joyously, leaping into his arms as they twirled and laughed as people in love constantly do. "I missed you so much, snookums. Every time someone ordered a strawberry milkshake I pretended it was blood just so I could think of you."
Spike quickly fall to his knees, grasping Buffy's tiny delicate feminine hand in his. "Oh Slayer, my slayer, I'd die for you, I'd do anything for you, I'd crawl on broken glass and tear off my own arms with my teeth just to have a sliver of your affections. I'd rip my own liver out with a rusted spoon, I'd poke my eyes out with toothpicks and I'd rip out my own toenails out and eat them with acid, just to be near you. I love you Slayer Summer!"
"That's sweet hon, now get off the floor," Buffy replied. "I've got some wonderful, wonderful news to tell you!"
Excited, Buffy heaved him off the floor and sat next to him on the couch, clasping his hand and staring into his eyes with love. So much love.
"So my vanilla pod blonde goddess, what's this news then?", Spike asked.
Buffy squeezed Spike's hand and took a deep breath. "Well, Spike. I've been to the doctors office and apparently I'm two months pregnant. Spike, we're going to be parents!"
Spike's eyes filled with joy at the news and he hugged Buffy tightly, love flowing him like the smell of grease flowed from Buffy's pores.
"My ripe wicked vanilla pod," Spike gushed. "This is such wonderful news my very soul would sing if I actually had one."
"I know!" Buffy replied. "We should so go out shopping for baby stuff right this minute and I'll even let you steer the shopping cart.\!"
Spike sat back on the couch a rapturous look of joy on his face. Okay, he and Buffy had a few ups and downs in the past, they'd taunted each other, made each other miserable, physically assaulted each other may times, he'd stalked her and her friends hated him, plus the last time he'd held a baby it was a snack, but damn it all, a baby represented the love that they had together and he'd rip the throat out of anyone who said that he wouldn't make a great father. A baby could finally make them one, like that song! Buffy was now trapped now and had to deal with Spike whether she liked it or not and he was the happiest vamp in vampire land. He blinked as he realised that the bint was still gabbing on.
"…so I think we should play it safe with the painting of the nursery with a more neutral colour. And I so want to get one of those new stroller things. Spikey, I don't get paid until next week, have you got any cash on you now so that we can go shopping?" Buffy's eyes shined in excitement as she tenderly stroked her convex stomach.
Spike rummaged through his pockets finding a pack of cigarettes, some yarn and a mouse skull before giving up. "Sorry luv, looks like daddy here's skint," Spike admitted.
"Don't you have any money at all?" Buffy said frowning.
"Actually pet, I'm filthy rich. Yeah. Didn't want to let on but I've been sitting on a fortune that I've collected over the last century in gold bullion and precious gems."
"Oh my god! Really? Spike, this is fantastic!"
"No, I've course not," Spike replied disgusted. "Why the hell would I be living in a crummy crypt in sodding Sunnyhell if I was rich, you stupid bint."
"Hey, you bleached freak, don't call me stupid!", Buffy yelled, a right haymaker ending the argument and the stretch of five days running where she hadn't belted him in the nose.
"You bitch, I'm going to beat you down you bloody cow!", Spike roared, advancing with a fist cocked. He quickly backed down though when he saw Buffy wrap her arms around her stomach, so pale, so frail, such a tiny delicate blossom. He sniffed up the nose blood and went to embrace her. "Sorry, Slayer, sorry, but sometimes you just make me so angry."
Buffy hugged him back. "I know, Spike. I know. Sometimes I just want to beat you until your unconscious and stuff you into a dust buster as well. But enough about us, we've got a baby to talk about!"
They sat back on the couch again, all smiles and happiness. "Okay", Buffy said. "You don't have any money, but I've got that job flipping hamburgers that gets me minimum wage. I could maybe see about doing double shifts until I can't work any more which should get some extra money in. Though it would mean less time being able to save the world…" Buffy frowned. "But Spike I think you're going to have to look at finding work."
"Work?", Spike said in horror. "Work? The Big Bad does not work, luv. I maim and steal and cheat, I do not work!"
Buffy spoke patiently, feeling slightly guilty over Spike's rapidly swelling left eye. "Darling, you're really going to have to contribute to this. Luckily I dropped out of university which means that I already have a job selling hamburgers, so yay, but there's also the mortgage to pay off and Dawn to raise and support. And I should really ask Tara and Willow to put in some money since they're living here for free."
"God, work," Spike said slowly like a stuck record that was a recording of the word 'work'. Guess you'll have me babysitting as well when you're out risking your life killing badies and being the only thing between the world and Armageddon. No more poker games, no more being drunk all the time, no more having fun." He pursed his lips and looked over at the tiny, frail, feminine girl. "Christ, Buffy, I'm only 120 something, I don't know if I'm ready for this yet."
"I've got the adoption papers in my bag."
"Oh, thank god. And by the way, how the hell did I get you pregnant," Spike said puzzled. "My seed, as they say, is very cold and very dead."
Spike continued to ponder on this vexing question, as Buffy coughed delicately into her fist and blushed furiously thinking of Xander's newly blond hair and black coat, a burnt out fuse and an unfortunate case of mistaken identity.
Opps.