Title: Everytime We Touch: Chapter Six.

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Set in season six, Spike and Buffy find themselves in the Bronze once again. Spike wants to have 'his' Slayer relax after a strenuous night. I know, not the most original, but I needed some Spiffy(Spuffy as my bestfriend, who this is for, dubbed it.) action to write. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own anything here. Save for the storyline. All characters and the like are trademark properties of Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and it's affiliates. Lyrics are copyrighted to their respected owners and blah, blah, blah. Please don't sue. I'm just a poor girl. Really, I am.

Pairings: Spike/Buffy.

A/N: I know. I know. I slacked. But with so much bullshit from work going on here, I haven't had time to work on fanfiction. That shall change starting now. :) I shall be updating all of my fanfiction that needs to be updated. Thank you once again to the reviews I've had on previous chapters. Reading them made me really have the urge to get back into writing.

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Had she fallen asleep? It seemed that way. The ride wasn't long at all. Why was he being considerate? She mentally asked herself suspiciously. A nagging voice in her head argued that he was just being gracious, as another bit back with Spike wouldn't know gracious if he read the instruction manual until the day he died.

So when the bike stopped, Buffy noticed they were down the block from the house and not directly in front of it as she suspected he might do. Spike's foot kicked out the stand before allowing his feet to fall in order to keep the bike steady. "Wasn't sure if you wanted me to bring you in front of the house where the Bit and others might see." He softly replied, turning to glance over at the Slayer who was still clung to him for dear life it seemed. It definitely felt nice to have her arms wrapped around him. Any connection from the smaller blonde was welcomed by the vampire.

"Thanks." She bit back a yawn and loosened her arms from around Spike, a hand dusting off the leather incase there was a smidge of drool. Not that she drooled, because she didn't. Just incase she might have this time she checked. That's all.

"Anytime." Spike meant it as he stood off the bike and went to help the Slayer off with a hand extended. "You sure your okay, pet?" His brows knitted when she nodded half drowsy. With the nod, Buffy waved his concern off also with a hand, throwing her right leg over the backseat of the bike to stand, only her legs wavered and she was just about to slip to the ground in a heap of exhaustion. Quick relfexes had the vampire catching Buffy under her arms and steadying her to her feet without letting go. "I'd beg to differ, luv. You don't look alright in the least bit." Testing the obviously in need of bedtime Slayer once more on her legs, Spike waited and sure enough, Buffy nearly collapsed, again.

"I'm fine. Just a bit tired. I can make it back to the house. Thanks for the... hey!" She squeaked when her legs gave out from under her and a powerful arm supported her back. Half clouded eyes from sleep were focused up on Spike's baby blues through half lidded lashes, "Really, I can walk. Just put me down damnit. I don't need to be carried like some child off to bed." She snapped, swatting at his chest.

Well, if he was meant to measure a Slayer's need for rest by the measure of her hit, Buffy needed more than a night's apparently. "Not a child, pet. Just a woman who doesn't know her own good and who refuses t'lemme be a gentleman." He smirked down at her, only to catch groggy eyes roll.

"Pfft. Suuuuuuure." She slurred, "You're my knight in leather armor." Buffy played along, her lips pressed together, head nodding vigorously.

"Tha'be me, luv. Cos y'know, they don't make enough shining armor. Besides, I think silver would clash with my gold locks." He was about halfway down the street, not that he was taking too slow of a time...it was just that he didn't want her to leave his arms anytime soon and took a leisurely walk there. What he took as a urgent need for Buffy to crash was now debatable. Because a blur of unseen energy seemed to slap the Slayer hard across the face. Her cheeks reddened, her eyes went wide and a hand flew to her mouth just as she jumped from his arms. Powerful legs that now walked on their own with no waver rushed to a naighbors bed of mixed flowers. Somewhat taken aback, Spike just stared unblinking, arms still molded in the position as if Buffy was still nestled there. The sound to come nect made the vampire visablly cringe.

The Slayer was bent over clutching her stomach with an arm wrapped around, her other hand resting ontop of her thigh. When she was finally satisfied that she wouldn't be puking anytime in the near future again, did she turn around and walk lazily over to Spike.

"Did you eat bad meat?" Was his first question, the worry written on his face as he followed Buffy at her side.

"No. I just don't feel well. Haven't for the past few...whatever." She shrugged it off once more in dismissal.

"Well, not to be obvious, but dont'cha think a doc is in order if y'haven't been feeling right for the past whatever, Buffy?" Spike gently took her upper arm in his grip and went to turn her around to face him. "Cos the last thing the Nibblet needs is you getting sick." He tried to drill that in as kindly and as pressed as he could.

Stopping midstep, Buffy yanked her arm back harshly. "I already know what's wrong with me and no. I'm not going to a doctor. Not one who could 'fix' my 'problem'." She knew she sounded more cruel than she anticipated sounding. Even to Spike. Who was now being stared at by the Slayer. Because could it be true? He was the father of the child she was carrying? That somehow what was meant to be dead troops suddenly were alive and active? For a long while she stood studying all of Spike's features, pondering just what their child would look like. From his face to his covered arms and then she hovered at his crotch. Because that's where this all went entirely wrong. It was wrong...wasn't it? Chewing on her lower lip, gnawing on the soft flesh between rows of teeth, Buffy tried to find the bad in this. But she couldn't. Not so much. Not when she felt the changes happening in her body, knowing that life had been created.

Not that he minded attention being drawn to him, and from gorgeous women at that, but there was something a little disturbing or at least peculiar at the way Buffy was doing it at the moment. "N'what problem would that be?" He questioned. If she wanted to tell, she would. But sometimes he had to ask. Buffy often wasn't just the sharing kind if not confronted. When a minute passed with no response, he asked the question over. Again, no response. With an exasperated sigh, he went for another kind, "See something you like?" Now that had the woman's attention. "Bloody 'ell! Did y'not hear my other questions?" Evidently she hadn't by the way she shook her head.

"Well then, let me repeat myself." He coughed and now had her full rcognition. "I asked, what problem is it that you have, Buffy?" Arms folded over his chest as he stood tall. An unspoken way of letting her know that he demanded, yes demanded, to be told. F'gods sake, he was apart of her life now. Even if it was secretly kept between them. "Well?" He pushed the question harder now.

If he wanted to know...well, then by all means she'd tell him.

Tell him to, "Concentrate." She instructed.

"I'm sorry, what?" Spike questioned.

"Concentrate and I'll tell you if you guess it." Buffy promised.

"You'll tell me if I guess it?" He wasn't really catching on. Defensively he lowered his arms and stuffed them into the pockets of his jacket.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" The sound of her tongue clicking would register to Spike that he had about a minute to comply if he didn't want her to retract the offer.

"No! Sodding 'ell, I'm just trying to figure out what you..." He could tell she was aggitated, "Concentrating now!" He stated, eyes closing. How else could she mean? Letting his eyes close allowed for his other senses to take on a higher sense of keen. Nostrils flared and his head canted from left to right.

God! What was she doing? Maybe she had a momentary lapse of sanity, or gazillion! Was she really going to let Spike know she was pregnant? Debating whether or not to run while he was oblivious to her actions with his eyes shut, Buffy heard him mumble something under his breath. Something even unaudible to her hearing. Then with a flash of amber, Spike's baby blues were wide and his nostrils stayed flared. His feet inched him closer to her. Backing the Slayer into a nearby telephone pole. Buffy's own eyes were wide when a growl errupted from Spike.

Okay, so he had to know.

Or he was just annoyed because he didn't know.

Or...or he knew and thought that...crap! He was likely thinking the same as she had.

"Figured it out yet?" She asked in a small voice. Her body tense as Spike slowly nodded.

"Mhmm." But he didn't look pleased.

-TBC (Ut-oh! Spike's a mad puppy. Don't worry, it won't last long. o)