Spike awoke to the familiar sound of Buffy’s ‘angry’ voice. When he realized that he was again chained up in the Watcher’s bathtub, he assumed she was yelling on his behalf. Buffy burst into the bathroom and in one fluid motion, validated his assumptions by snapping the chains as if they were made of clay.

“Spike, get up, we’re leaving.”

Before Spike could form a reply, Giles stormed into the bathroom, a stake firmly gripped in his hand.

“Buffy, I don’t want to hurt you, but you have to understand that this is for your own good.”

She scoffed, obviously unconvinced.

“My own good? How in God’s name would killing Spike help me? He’s my mate for sobbing out loud! Thanks in part to Ethan and Theresa, but still…mate!”

“Well for one it would break the claim those bloody morons put on you and….”

“And it would kill me too, Giles!”

“Didn’t you bother listening to me, Buffy? The only way that you could die along with this ‘mate’ of yours is if you…not just your body, but the real you, consummated the claim sexually with…oh dear, Lord! You mean…?”

Buffy nodded and Giles shook his head.

“Oh…dear Lord.”

Finally understanding the full depth of Ethan and Theresa’s actions, coupled with Buffy and Spike’s, the Watcher found himself at a loss for words, and decided that now was as good a time as any to faint. Buffy raised a hand to Spike when he moved to help Buffy carry the Watcher to the living room.

“No,” she said, allowing Giles to gently slide down to the tile floor, “he made you sleep in here, it’s about time he got a taste of his own medicine.”

Spike laughed and pulled Buffy towards himself, and kissed her with great fervor.

“I think I may be rubbing off on you, Slayer.”

“I like when you rub me,” she said, grabbing his hand and leading him into Giles’ living room.

She plopped down on Giles’ couch and motioned for Spike to do the same. When he did, she grabbed the large “Vampyre Mating Rituals” book that had been sitting on the coffee table.

“Care to do some reading with me?”

--

A few hours and a dozen chapters later, Buffy and Spike closed the book and stared at each other. Buffy sucked in a deep breath.

“So we might be….”

“Pregnant.”

“What with the whole….”

“Body switching and the claiming….”

“And the sex. Don’t forget the sex.”

“I for one could never forget the sex, Slayer.”

“Well, maybe if you’d have kept your damn hands off of me, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“A mess! Oi, now watch it, Slayer! Your pretty little hands were all over me too as I recall.”

Buffy sighed and nodded.

“Sorry…I just…I don’t want to…what if I am, you know? Pregnant?”

“Well, then we’ll have a little bundle of Slayer wandering around in a few months and kicking Daddy in the knees in a few years.”

“I’m serious, Spike. What are we going to do if…you know…if I’m all knocked up?”

“I was being serious, Slayer…I would…Buffy, pet, I would take care of you…and the little Nibblet. I’d…I’d do sodding everything.”

Caressing his face with an outstretched hand, Buffy smiled.

“Good…but, let’s not count our chicken before he’s hatched…we don’t even know if I am preggers….”

“Off to the drugstore, then?”

“I guess so,” Buffy said as she glanced out the window at the setting sun.

“Lead the way Mum.”

A playful scowl crossed Buffy’s face before she wrapped her arms around Spike’s neck and planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

“Sure thing, Daddy.”

--

A wall full of pregnancy tests towered in front of Buffy and Spike in the fluorescent lights of the pharmacy. Buffy’s mouth hung slightly agape as her eyes darted from the “Patented Clearpink” test, “EZTesty”, the “20 Second Baby Bell,” and the various other tests, each bearing pictures either smiling babies or a sleek-for-the-1980’s logo. Spike sighed as he noticed her confusion, and grabbed the Clearpink test. When Buffy opened her mouth to protest, he held his hand up.

“Into the loo’ with you, Slayer. Tinkle on the strip and call me in,” he trailed off as he read the back of the package, “Five ‘easy’ minutes.”

She nodded and walked toward the registers, grasping Spike’s hand in her own. She emitted a light chuckle as a thought passed through her mind.

“You’d think they’d try and keep the word ‘easy’ off of a pregnancy test.”

“Yeah, and one would assume they wouldn’t want ‘testy’ on it either, Slayer. Quit dawdling and get to your little piddlin’ party.”

Five ‘easy’ minutes later, Buffy walked out of the bathroom, beaming. It was now Spike’s turn to balk in confusion as she happily thrust the test at him.

“You…I…we…Slayer…you’re…you’re…YOU’RE BLOODY PREGNANT!”

A row of cashiers turned to frown at the couple before turning their attentions back to scanning and bagging. Buffy blushed and pulled Spike closer to her.

“I am! We…we are! But keep it down, I don’t want everyone to know...not yet anyway.”

“Oh, ashamed of me now, are we, Buffy? Great. Knock your sorry behind up and what’s the thanks I get? Oh nothing. Just kicked out to the street without a sodding look….”

Spike trailed off as Buffy devoured his mouth with a sensual kiss. She pulled back and giggled.

“No, silly. It’s bad luck before the first trimester. You’re only supposed to tell a few people,” she turned and counted the cashiers, “and I think that your little outburst used up our quota.”

Spike shook his head and picked Buffy up in his arms. She squealed in delight.

“Spike! What are you doing? Ah! Put me down!”

“Not a chance of that, love. I’m carrying you and junior home.”

“Home?”

“Well…to the Watcher’s home…oh bloody hell, Buffy, where are we going to live?”

--