Down Time

Spike woke up to Buffy fondling him. Initially enjoying the sensation, he then sat up when he got his brain in gear.

"Ah ah!" he said, shaking his head and pushing her hands away, "What are you doing?"

She tried for a coy smirk as she reached for him again, "You know what."

"Buffy," he began, holding her arms tightly at her side.

She pouted. "You don't want me anymore. It's because I'm big, and pregnant and horrible."

The ex-vampire rolled his eyes, "You're bloody gorgeous and you know it, Slayer."

Buffy didn't smile at the complement – she was too busy trying to hold back tears.

"Then why don't you want me?" she asked, her voice breaking.

Loosening his grip with one hand, so he could bring his other up to stroke her face, he echoed her earlier words, "You know why."

Suddenly an anger came over her, and she pushed away his hands.

"Well you're wrong!" she yelled, "I'm fine. The only thing wrong with me is that my husband-" her voice cracked again, and her tone lowered almost immediately - "My mate, won't be with me."

"Oh, Kitten," he said, feeling torn up, "I'm just trying to stop you from exhausting yourself. I love you. And being apart? It's killing me, too."

The Slayer shook her head but didn't protest further.

Spike got up completely, then, and grabbed his pants, deciding in that moment to not sleep naked any more.

"I gotta get ready for work," he said, laying a kiss to Buffy's forehead on his way to the bathroom. A fat tear rolled down her cheek when he closed the door.

Over breakfast the couple ignored the tension hanging over them. Buffy tried breaking it by asking how Giles was, but all she got was a grunt in response.

"What is it he's getting you to do anyway?"

"Research."

"Research?"

"Yeah."

"Could you be any vaguer?"

"Yes."

"Spike!"

"Bloody hell. He's made me his guinea pig, okay?"

The Slayer frowned, "What for?"

Spike rolled his eyes but finally gave in to her questions, "He's running some tests to find out more about where I stand on the whole demon-human axis."

Buffy's frown deepened, but he reassured her it was okay.

Reaching out his hand across the table to clasp hers he said, "Really, pet. Nothing to worry about."

"Okay," she said, finally.

Changing the topic Spike asked if she was taking the day off work, but that only served to bring back the frosty atmosphere with a vengeance.

"I'm fine!" she insisted, throwing up her hands. "I'm not going to break, and I'm not going to sit around all day losing money just because I've got dizzy a couple of times. I'm the Slayer, Spike, not some fragile little girl."

In as even tone as he could muster he replied, "You're carrying a fragile little girl, though, aren't you? You…"

In shock she clapped a hand over her mouth and stared at him, incredulous.

"You!" she responded shakily, at last, "You think my stubbornness could hurt her?"

"I- no. Not intentionally. I mean-" he cut his sentence off mid-way through when he saw tears beginning to collect behind her eyes again. "Buffy, I love you. And I know you love our tyke, and would never, ever, do anything to hurt 'er. But I worry, is all. You maybe can handle doing things the way they have been. Point of fact, I know you can, but that doesn't mean the intensity of us isn't too much for her. I'm just…" he broke down a little himself, then, before continuing. "I'm just terrified that I could lose something so good, jus' outta being selfish. How could you ever look at me if that happened?"

They were both crying by that point. The Slayer whimpered his name and he stood up and swept her up into his arms, cradling her head against his chest. "Love you so much," he said.

"I know," she replied, with a sniffle, "I love you so much, too. I… I'm going to be good." – She gulped, then carried on – "We're not gonna be together. But, Spike-"

"I know, kitten, I know. It's gonna be hard. Wanna be with you in every way for every bloody moment of the rest of this soddin' existence I have but-"

"It's not worth the risk," she finished for him.

"Yeah," he said, in a sigh, before kissing her deeply. When they finally broke apart, and he put her down, Buffy still had her arms around his neck. They laid their foreheads against each other and she said, "Think I am gonna take a day off after all. Feel in need of major mope-age. I'm thinking TV, ice cream and cuddles from Harriet."

Spike raised his eyebrow at her, which was difficult seeing as it was pressed against her skin, "Harriet?"

"What I called the stuffed animal you gave me."

"Oh," he chuckled. "Sounds like an excellent plan. Want me to make the call?"

She shook her head, "Nope. Buffy is strong enough to pick up the phone."

"I didn't mean-"

"I know," she said, "Just teasing. Ugh! Sorry for being such a mess, earlier. I just-"

"I know," he said, kissing her again.

Getting home to his Slayer after spending the day being poked, prodded, and asked every question under the sun by her Watcher, Spike smiled when he saw her stretched out on the couch, asleep.

"Bloody adorable," he muttered to himself, and she shifted slightly, then slowly opened her eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey, pet. How's Harriet?"

Buffy smiled. "She's good at the cuddles, but I still think I'd rather have you."

"Soppy bint," he teased.

"You love it," she replied.

He laid a kiss on her forehead in agreement, then went to make dinner for the both of them.

When it was done he brought it back into the living room, but didn't hand it over when she reached for it.

"Hey! What's the big idea?"

He chuckled, before resting the plate on the coffee table and picking Buffy up instead.

She wriggled in his arms, despite enjoying the spontaneous embrace. "What are you doing?"

"I've heard," he began, "That beds can be used for things other than shaggin' you silly."

She offered him a confused look, and he carried on.

"Thought it might be nice to use it for one of those other purposes."

"Okay?" she said, as he put her down and wrapped the comforter round her again before lighting some candles.

"Yeah," he said, "Romantic night for two, right here. No shaggin' necessary."

"Okay," she said, with a grin, still not fully understanding what his plan was.

He retrieved the plate from where he left in the other room, placed it on her lap, on top of the covers, then took off his shirt and boots to climb in beside her.

"Gonna share this," he said, by means of explanation, as he scooped the first bite onto a fork and lifted it to her mouth. She ate it without question – closing her eyes to enjoy the flavor.

"And then?"

"And then I thought I'd give you a massage, and I could pull the box in here."

"Box?"

"The telly, luv."

"Oh," she smiled, then took a second bite. "That sounds excellent, you big softy."

He was tempted to growl at that, and remind her he was still the big bad where it counted, but then he realized that would only set them both back to thinking about the things they were trying not to do. So, instead, he let the comment slide.

"I'm bloody lucky to have you," he said, "Gonna be whatever you need as long as that means keeping you, and keeping you happy. God! Just to hold you is more than I deserve. More than I ever thought I'd get."

"Me too," she replied in a whisper. "I love you, Spike. Thank you for this."

"Shut up and eat," he told her, lightheartedly, before brushing a kiss across her cheek. "You're determined to turn me back into a soddin' poet."

Buffy just continued to smile and do as he said.

Within a week of that they had their flights back to the states booked, and packing had begun. Dawn was just waiting to hear which colleges she'd got accepted to, and then they'd be off.