FIC: To Come Home To (another snippet)

Dec 27, 2010 23:17

Yes, more of the post-NFA, post-apocalyptic Spuffy mpreg. (The post-apocalyptic part is hard to spot sometimes. But it's there, I swear!) Warning: high schmoop quotient in this bit. First installment here.

~~~~~

Buffy woke with the certain knowledge that something had changed. She lay still, adrenaline rising and waiting for permission to peak, and listened. There were no mutterings from the far side of the basement, no footsteps, no breath but hers and Spike’s.

But Spike was no more asleep than she was, she realized. “Spike?” In his chest against her back she felt him loose a long breath.

“Buffy?” he said, her name soft and uncertain on his lips.

She rolled over. “What is it?” By the casement window’s indirect light - their most recent compromise with Spike’s nightmares of immolation by sun - she could see him blinking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read, even after all this practice. Fear? “Spike?” She tried a smile, and felt it lacking. “Starting to wig me out here.”

“I can feel it.” He swallowed. “I can feel the baby. Moving around.”

“Oh,” Buffy breathed. Oh.

“Thought I did, couple of days ago, but I wasn’t sure.”

Oh, Buffy thought again. This was where she was excited, right? Was he excited? He was still staring at her with that wide-eyed bewilderment.

He licked his lips. “You want to...?” He trailed off.

Deep breath, Buffy. “Okay. Yeah.”

He reached for her hand; his was trembling. She shifted so he could lay her hand against his stomach, which had been rounding out with a purpose lately. She closed her eyes and let her fingers soak up the Spike-warmth, waiting for a tell-tale... something. A movement or a tickle, or something.

“There,” Spike said. “That. Did you feel it?”

“No,” Buffy said.

“Maybe too faint for you to feel yet,” he said, head ducking in disappointment. After a moment he returned to that intense sideways stare. “Anyway, I can, now.”

Waiting, she thought. He was waiting for her reaction. And God, she might not be - was still so not - sure how she felt about this idea, but she knew exactly how she felt about Spike, who had a grin trembling at the corners of his mouth, ready to break loose or fall on her word. She summoned a better smile than her first one and said, “That’s incredible.”

His grin shone bright enough to set a vamp on fire, deep enough to lose a girl’s heart in. “Yeah,” he said. It was like she’d come walking down Mom’s stairs all over again, the way he was looking at her now. Joy, that’s what he’d been wanting her permission for but still trying to disguise, in case she... freaked out?

She found his hand and squeezed it. Then, like a stake between the eyes, it hit her again. “Oh, God, Spike, we’re really having a baby.” She wondered how many more of these epiphanies it’d take before the reality finally sunk in.

He pulled her against his chest, and she settled in, hands pressed to his ever-wondrous warmth. “We are, are we?,” he said. “We are having a baby?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, honey, you are having a baby.”

“Just so long as my contribution here is properly appreciated.”

She pulled away far enough to slip a hand down and rub his stomach. “Your contribution's pretty hard to miss, actually.”

“Oy! I’m... It’s... I’m not that big yet.”

“But you will be.” It wasn’t something she’d thought that hard on, because the visual of Spike at nine months induced more wigging than she could squash gracefully, at least so far. But now she tried it, picturing her sleek panthery ex-vampire with a belly waxing full and sticking out to there. Then she had to fight down the giggle, because the look he was giving her wasn’t any too certain. “You’ll be the hottest pregnant guy ever,” she said. “Promise.”

He swallowed. “Right.”

Good job, Buffy. Way to crash the mood of the fragile father-to-be. “Is this one of those times where you’re freaking out and I’m not supposed to tease you?”

His eyes met her hers for an instant and dropped again. “Could be.”

“A baby,” she said, sliding her hand over his bellybutton. Get him focused on the part he cared about, and he forgot the weird. “You’re making us a baby.”

A deep Spike-breath. “Yeah.” The grin started to break through the clouds.

She dropped her voice. “And you’re looking pretty damn sexy doing it, Mister.”

“Yeah?”

Sex? Another excellent diversionary tactic. “Yeah,” she said.

But instead of taking her up on what she meant for an invitation, he relaxed. “All right,” he said. “All right.” After a moment, his hand drifted to her hair and he began curling bits of it around his fingers. “Hottest pregnant guy ever?”

“No question,” Buffy said, settling in again.

“I’m going to look ridiculous.”

“Pregnant, with our baby.”

“And also hot.” He didn’t sound as if he quite believed her, but he didn’t sound like it mattered too much, either. For now, anyway.

“Yep.” And if not, she was by every hellgod whose ass she’d ever kicked going to fake it, because her guy was being brave like she wasn’t sure she’d ever want to be, and he needed all the support she could manage. Supporto-Buffy, that was her.

But drifting off to sleep again, her hand strategically placed over his stomach in case of fetal kick repeat, what sounded over and over in her head was, Oh God, we’re having a baby.

So, still not quite used to that part yet.

Finis
(with more to come later? maybe?)

longfic: to come home to, length: longfic, ch: spike, ch: buffy, pairing: spike/buffy, entry: fic

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