Count Down

October 2005 was both an extremely busy and extremely boring month for the Slayer. She was just about ready to pop, and part of her wanted the waiting to be over. Another part was terrified of childbirth, though. And a third part was occupied with the fear of being a terrible mother, therefore leaving her glad the scary birth hadn't yet happened.

Warrior of the people quaking in her boots at the thought of some physical pain and gore? There was a little bit of illogical shame coursing through her about that, also; but she only admitted such things to Spike. Needless to say, she was glad for the distraction when he came home from work one day and picked a fight with the toaster. Buffy smiled at her mate, then sighed dramatically, making him look over at her.

"You gonna to tell me what's up before or after you tear apart the kitchen?"

"After," he mumbled.

"Spike…"

"It's nothin'."

Buffy shook her head and tried to stop herself from laughing at his immaturity – not sure exactly when she started finding it endearing.

"Remember that time I was annoyed and I wouldn't say why? And you got annoyed at me for it, and we promised not to do that again?"

He grinned slightly in response, before pointing out that it was only her that made that promise.

"Spike!"

"Jokin' pet."

"So…" she continued to press, enjoying every aspect of the interaction.

"Ugh," he ran a hand through his hair. "Jus' work stuff. Caught between a rock an' a soddin' hard place."

The Slayer waited, making clear by saying nothing that she wanted the entire story.

The ex-vampire sighed in resignation, and took a seat at the breakfast bar, gesturing for Buffy to sit opposite him. She struggled, for a moment, to get onto the high stool but when she was settled he began.

"Candice came in today."

"That's the Barnkipe demon, right?"

"Yeah," Spike told her. "One of Clem's biggest clients. So, she comes in to order some work for three of her motors. Wants cages installed, in the back of pick-up trucks."

"And I'm guessing that's not for carrying dead animals hunted with a license," Buffy guessed.

"Says she's after werewolves."

Buffy nodded. "So, you feel conflicted."

"Bloody right I do!" Spike replied, though it hadn't been a question.

The Slayer was fully smiling then. She couldn't help herself.

"Wot?"

"You. With the morals, and the conscience, it's very fetching."

Spike gifted his mate with a wink, before guilt overcame him and the expression of joviality slipped off his face once more.

"What do I do?"

"You speak to Clem. He'll get it."

"Yeah, he'll understand, but 'm not sure he can afford to turn down the work, pet."

"He doesn't have to."

"Are you off yer nut?"

"Nu-uh," she replied, with a shake of the head. "Do the work, and I'll get Vi and Rona to trail the cars out to where their hunting. Get them to take out Candice and her team."

Spike considered her suggestion, for a bit, then declared it "Brilliant."

"Get the work and save the wolfies," he summarized the plan, but the Slayer shook her head again.

"Not save the wolfies?"

"Capture the wolfies. Make sure they understand what's happening to them. Offer them help to control it, if they want."

"And if they don't want it?"

"Make them want it," she said simply, but with no room for negotiation.

"Brilliant," Spike said again. "You're good at this."

"Well, duh!"

Spike chuckled. Content that his moral dilemma had been solved in a satisfactory way, he resolved to be brave and change the subject.

"Halloween next week, pet."

Buffy glared at him – annoyed that he'd broken their silent agreement to not mention the unfortunate due date she'd ended up with.

"So?" she asked, finally, almost daring him to make an issue of it.

Spike's courage died in his throat. The ex-vampire gulped and decided not to take the bait. "So… we should get some sweets in?"

"I'm not giving birth on Halloween," his mate told him, definitively.

"Course not," he agreed. "Didn't suggest any such thing…"

To be continued...