Halloween Night

One of the benefits of Spike and Buffy's new bed was that the headboard wouldn't give way when one of them was chained to it during an intense round of love making. Of course, due to Buffy's condition, only Spike had managed to take his turn as submissive, so it was he that found himself bound at the wrists and fully at his lover's mercy. The Slayer had been driving him wild for an extended period – teasing his flesh all over, before finally sinking herself down on his rock hard member. She felt a tremor go through her at that – one that was ever so slightly more pain that pleasure – but ignored it. Fully lost in bliss, as his mate rocked herself against him, Spike was unaware of the slight changes to the rhythm of Buffy's breathing. The Slayer was, of course, becoming increasingly aware of the shift in sensations, but she – also enjoying herself – hadn't managed to put her finger on the cause of the shift.

In the space of a few minutes a dull ache became a sharp stabbing pain, and the Slayer found herself jumping (as best she could) off her lover's slim frame and hunching over to get control of her breathing. Coming back to himself, Spike looked on worriedly as Buffy put one hand on her knee and wrapped her free arm around her middle. Before the ex-vampire could get a word out, her waters had broken and she was on her hands and knees at the foot of the bed, moaning.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, straining against his chains. As it turned out, one of the downsides of Spike and Buffy's new bed was that the headboard wouldn't give way when one of them was in labor five feet away and the other was unable to assist.

"Buffy, pet," he soothed, trying to sound calm; "You gotta toss me the key."

"The… the…" she panted the as a fresh contraction hit her. "The keyyyyarghhhh!"

Several thoughts went through Spike's head at once, just then: shit, damn, bugger, and help, being the most predominant. What came out of his mouth was more soothing words for Buffy, though.

"It's gonna be okay," he told her. "Gonna be jus' fine, luv. Breathe and then toss me the key. You can do that, right, pet?"

He wasn't completely convinced, but after a few more moments – when the wave of pain passed – the Slayer managed it. Once free the ex-vampire jumped into action. First bundling Buffy up in his arms, and holding her close to his chest for a brief moment, before laying her out on the bed as he ran around and got clothes for both of them. Before she knew it they were in the car speeding to the hospital.

"No, Spike!" the Slayer insisted, in between pulls of gas and air. "I'm not giving birth this side of midnight. My child is NOT going to be a Halloween baby, got it?"

"Kitten," Spike soothed, "It's jus' a regular day."

"It's a bad omen!" she shot back, "And… and you," – another contraction hit her, and she waited for it to pass before finally continuing, "You put her in me, so you better bloody well tell her to stay put!"

"But, pet," Spike tried again, but he was met with the fiercest glare his mate could throw at him, causing him to hold up his hands in defeat. "I'll do what you want."

"Tell her."

"You're serious?"

"Tell her!" she yelled at him.

"Right. Right. Umm… Sprog, yeah? You gotta be good for yer mum. Stay where she wants you, tha's a good girl."

The couple looked at each other, for a moment, taking in the ridiculousness of the situation, before Buffy let out a deep laugh. Spike felt the tension roll off his shoulders a little at the sound.

"You're such an idiot," said the Slayer.

"Your idiot," he pointed out, with a smile.

Two hours later… a sharp cry filled the room.

"Fantastic," said the doctor, who'd taken the child to wrap it in a blanket, before handing it to Spike. "You're doing fantastically, Buffy."

"Doing?" she asked, "Doing as in present tense? It's not over?"

Just as the question left her lips an innate desire to push came over her once more.

"Oh, god, twins?!"

The doctor chuckled, which she so did not appreciate. "No, dear," he said, "Just the after birth to come."

"The wha?" she balked.

"The placenta, luv," Spike provided, while gazing at the wriggling bundle flesh in his arms.

It was three minutes past midnight.

To be continued...