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Title: Ladies' Man Author: Miss Murchison Rating: "Chiaroscuro" is mostly R and PG. However, some content may be considered NC-17. Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. Only the lame plots and dialogue herein are mine. Thanks: To DorothyL for the beta and for her wonderful friendship. Notes: This is a sequel to “Demon Lovers, Part II." At this point, everything seems to be going well for the characters. Since almost every guy who’s ever walked out on her has paraded through Sunnydale over the past few months, Buffy has finally come to terms with her abandonment issues. She’s happily married, has accepted the ramifications of her role as the Slayer, has gainful employment she doesn’t hate, and is expecting some good news. Spike now has more out of life (including life) than he ever imagined he could. Willow is coming to terms with her break-up with Tara. Both Spike and Willow have successfully repressed all their feelings of guilt, and that’s as good as dealing with their emotions—isn’t it? Tara is starting to discover just who she is, and she’s liking what she’s finding. Dawn is happy and doing well at school, and even Xander seems to be adjusting to the status quo. Obviously, as a writer, I can’t let this state of affairs continue! I let Jonathan throw the first spanner in the works . .
“You know, Jonathan, I actually thought I had a date tonight. With a verifiable human female with a pretty face and a very nice figure. But she cancelled on me. She called to say that she thought I was kind of weird and that my friends seemed strange. So I thought, the hell with her. My friends are important to me. I don’t care that this pretty girl dumped me, because I still have a life. And it’s not all that weird. So what am I doing now? I’m standing in a graveyard over a hole in the ground because you want me to help you find buried treasure. This isn’t helping my self-image much.” “I didn’t ask you to do this, Xander. I wanted to go get Buffy. But you said we should take care of this ourselves.” “Yeah, well I guess I was just overflowing with machismo and wounded pride when I said that. And now I’m just overflowing with wondering why I’m about to climb down a dark hole to look for something that probably doesn’t exist.” “I’m sure it exists, Xander. The scrolls were very specific that there’s an object of value that must be found sometime within the span of two full moons. Of course, I may have gotten some of the details wrong.” “That’s comforting.” Xander looked down the hole. “And explain to me why I’m playing Indiana Jones while you stay up here.” “Well, it kind of involves holding on to a rope and lowering yourself down and pulling yourself back up. Do you remember what happened to me when we had to do that rope-climbing thing in gym?” Xander did. Jonathan had rarely managed to pull himself more than a foot or two off the floor, and he had suffered relentless and scathing criticism from the gym teacher as a result. On the one occasion that he had gained any altitude, he had fallen so hard that an ambulance had been called. At least they were doing this while there was still some daylight. Still, it would seem pretty dark once Xander got down to the bottom of that hole. He clipped a flashlight to his belt, grasped the rope, and lowered himself slowly, his boots slipping against the rock that formed the sides of the hole. His feet felt for a spot solid enough to hold him. One boot scraped against an outcrop of rock, seemed to find purchase, and then slipped out from under him. A cascade of rocks and rubble tumbled towards the bottom of the hole, and Xander followed faster and more painfully than he had ever intended to descend. “Xander! Are you okay?” Jonathan’s voice echoed down the hole. Xander swore and tried to pick himself up. All his body parts seemed to be working, but the unpleasantly bumpy surface beneath him was uneven and unstable. He tried to ignore the aches and pains that would soon turn to sizeable bruises as he groped for the flashlight and turned it on. He had a strange feeling that he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t. The thing he was sharing the hole with was roughly the same size as Xander but very differently shaped. “Bug!” he yelled. “Not treasure! Big bug! Why is it always bugs?” He tried to scramble up the slope created by the rockslide and get away from the creature, but the huge insect blundered into him. He screamed, and the monster scuttled away. Finally realizing that both he and the bug were more or less equally terrified, he scrambled to a position a few feet higher than the monster’s head and looked up. Jonathan was peering down at him. “The rope’s still there,” he said. “Part of it was buried under the rocks, but if you climb up just a little bit more, you can grab the end and climb up.” Xander looked at the bug and found sufficient motivation to grasp the rough surface of the rocks and haul himself up a few more feet. Once he found the rope, he was able to reach the surface quickly. Jonathan reached out a hand to assist, but Xander shrugged it off. “Your face is cut up,” said Jonathan. “Never mind that,” said Xander. “Jonathan, did anything in those scrolls mention a big bug guarding your treasure?” “No. I-I don’t know what that thing was doing down there. Maybe I didn’t get the location just right.” “Do you think?” Xander’s incredulity made Jonathan sulky. “Well, I didn’t want to do this on our own,” he repeated. “I knew we should have checked with Buffy and Spike first.” “Buffy and Spike, Buffy and Spike. Can’t we do anything without running to them first? And why can’t anyone mention her anymore without dragging the ex-dead guy into it?” Jonathan was appalled by Xander’s vicious tone. “But—but they’re married, so you kind of think of them together. And Buffy used to be dead too, remember? I think we should tell her. She is the Slayer.” “I’ll tell her, if I can catch her for a minute when she’s not busy jumping Spike. But I’m going home to clean up first. I think that thing down there is trapped, so our heroes can pick a convenient moment to interrupt their incessant screwing and rush to the rescue.”
“Oh, no,” said Dawn. “Here comes trouble.” “What?” asked Janice. “Kyle. He’s trying to catch up with us.” “So, walk a little slower,” said Heather. “No chance,” said Dawn. “He’s a jerk, and every time I meet him he finds a new way to prove it.” Heather ignored this and began to drag her feet, casting glances behind her at the young man who was following them down the block. Kyle was tall and good looking, but he wasted no time reinforcing Dawn’s impression of him. Heather and Janice uttered simultaneous squeals as the boy stepped up behind them. “Kyle!” said Heather, twisting around to face him. It was a warm afternoon, and all three girls were wearing shorts and t-shirts, but Heather’s clothing was minimalist even by southern California standards. Kyle stared at her, but he never even glanced at her face. Janice stalked away from him to stand behind Dawn. “He grabbed me!” she said in shock. “I mean, he didn’t just pat or touch. And he went as far south as he could get!” “Just a friendly squeeze,” said Kyle, as he tried to maneuver himself behind Dawn. “Don’t you dare try that on me, Kyle,” said Dawn. She dropped her backpack and moved one foot back a pace, balancing her weight carefully in a defensive posture. Kyle ignored these signs and reached for her. Dawn flipped him over onto his stomach and held him down, one hand grasping his wrist and twisting his arm behind him. “Hey!” He tried to struggle, yelped as his own movements twisted his arm more painfully, and subsided onto the concrete. Dawn released him and stepped back cautiously. “Waddya do that for?” he demanded, still not getting up. “I don’t bluff,” said Dawn. “I told you not to touch me.” Kyle uttered an obscenity and started to push himself up on his hands and knees. He found himself rising to a standing position faster than he had intended. He staggered and almost fell, stumbling to hold on to a tree for support. “Watch your mouth in front of the ladies,” said Spike. He had given Kyle an unwanted assist by grasping the teen by the back of his shirt and hauling him to his feet. “Yeah, ‘cause I wouldn’t want to hang around a guy who swears all the time,” said Dawn sarcastically. “Wow!” said Heather. “That was so cool, Spike! I didn’t even know you were here.” “Yeah, well I drove up in time to see him try to grab the Little Bit.” Spike looked at Kyle. “I’d advise you not to try that again.” Kyle shook his head and dodged off behind the tree, running through the yard of a nearby house and over to the next street. “Thank you, Spike,” effused Heather. She started to play with her hair, reaching her arms over her head to pull it up into a ponytail. Simultaneously, she shifted her weight from one leg to another. This made her already skimpy shirt pull up, and her breasts wobbled from side to side, just barely out of view. “I’ve never been rescued before.” “Yeah?” Spike looked her up and down. “Well, maybe you’ve never bothered to yell for help.” “I can’t believe Kyle did that,” said Janice. “You know, I think they should prostitute him for it.” Dawn winced. “I think you mean ‘prosecute,’ Janice.” “I don’t know. The other might come under the heading of poetic justice,” said Spike. “Come on, ladies, get in my car. I’ll give you a ride home.” “That would be wonderful, Spike,” said Heather. “I just wouldn’t feel safe walking alone.” She turned, wiggling her bottom as she crossed the sidewalk to his car. Spike didn’t bother watching the display. He turned to Dawn. “Gee,” said Dawn. “I’m glad you were there to protect her. Heaven only knows what he would have done from that prone position on the sidewalk if you hadn’t arrived just in the nick of time.” “You’re going a bit heavy on the sarcasm, Bit,” said Spike with a grin. “And don’t take it out on me. You should know by now that people see what they want to see.” Dawn turned to the convertible and was annoyed to discover that Heather had taken the front passenger seat. She grimaced and hopped into the back without bothering to open the door. “Wow,” said Janice. Dawn shrugged. “I just feel all revved up. Probably adrenaline left over from having to swat that jerk.” “I didn’t know you could do that,” said Janice. “Heather still doesn’t know,” grumped Dawn. In fact, Heather was still thanking Spike for her rescue. She admired his car at some length. She also told him she liked his accent and she thought his name was cute. She was actually batting her eyes. Dawn was making gagging gestures by the time Spike pulled up in front of Heather’s house. Heather finally stopped uttering thanks and got out of the car. “What’s the matter with you?” asked Janice as Spike pulled away without bothering to watch Heather sashay up to her house. “I know you don’t know Heather that well, but you must have realized by now that she’s always like that around guys.” “Well it’s gross,” said Dawn. “It’s like her brains bleed out of her ears every time something with a penis walks in the room.” “Yeah, well everyone’s got issues,” said Janice tolerantly. “It’s like Harrison not being able to eat peanuts without having to be rushed to the hospital or the way Cheryl goes all rigid in Driver’s Ed. When Heather sees a hot guy she starts squirming around like something’s crawled down her shorts. The guys don’t seem to mind. Hey, are you okay, Spike?” “I’m fine,” said Spike, who seemed to be suffering from a sudden choking fit. “I have some cough drops if you want them,” said Janice earnestly as she got out of the car. “No thanks.” “Well, thanks for the ride and for throwing that guy into the tree. See you tomorrow.” Dawn hopped into the front seat before Spike pulled away from the curb again. She spent the rest of the trip home haranguing him for encouraging Heather. “That silly little bint needs about as much encouragement as a mosquito,” he said. “And I didn’t think you wanted me to swat down your friends.” “Well, I don’t like her hanging all over you. You belong to Buffy.” “Belong? Didn’t you Americans have a Civil War or something that outlawed that?” “You know what I mean.” “Yeah. I also thought you knew that you could trust me.” “It’s not you I’m worried about. It’s just not right. She should treat you with more respect.” “Respect? Since when do you worry about respecting me? You and Buffy are always telling me to shut up, ordering me about, telling me what to watch on the telly, and treating me like your chauffeur.” “Yeah, but that’s me and Buffy. We—we’re supposed to do that. We’re your family.” She looked a little anxious. “Besides, I thought you liked it.” “I do.” His smile was reassuring. “Well, okay then. But I don’t like having Heather call you Spike and sit in the front seat when you’re giving her a ride.”
Buffy came downstairs to find Dawn and Spike bickering in the kitchen. She listened for a few minutes before asking Spike to desist hostilities so that she could speak to him upstairs. He followed her to the bedroom and shut the door. Buffy wandered over the window. “What were you and Dawn arguing about?” Spike frowned, obviously finding it hard to read her mood. “We’ve hit a broad range of topics this afternoon. Among other things, she’s decided she doesn’t like her friends calling me Spike. Unfortunately, none of the other options seem to strike her teenage sensibility as appropriate either, so I don’t think I’m going to have to put up with being called ‘William’ by the giggle squad, or, worse yet, that bloody stupid last name your Watcher made up for me.” “Oh.” Buffy had spent the past hour trying to decide how to break some serious news, and she had no mental energy to spare for this silly an issue. She looked into his eyes and changed the subject effectively by saying, “Well, you may have to cope with another name from another source.” “What’s that?” “Daddy.” She thought for a moment that he had stopped breathing. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and stared up at her. He swallowed convulsively and said, “Are you sure?” “I waited to tell you until I was sure. I went to the doctor’s today. They did two different kinds of tests to make certain. I’m having a baby.” There was a strange, faraway expression in his eyes. “I thought this couldn’t happen.” “It was the doctor’s fault. He told me I couldn’t do this, and you know how poorly I take direction from my elders.” She laughed uneasily. “He was so upset at being proven wrong that he turned me over to another doctor in the office for my prenatal care.” “Prenatal—” He tried out the word. “But, you’re all right, love? All those things they told you about not being quite normal—they won’t affect your health or the baby’s, will they?” “No. I seem to be doing just fine. They want me to come back in soon, but that’s just to meet my new doctor and have a regular checkup. You have to go to the doctor a lot when you’re pregnant, apparently.” “Pregnant.” This was another word he seemed to be trying out. Then a thought struck him. “When?” he asked. “When did it happen?” “You know when,” she said. “You can’t have forgotten that wild night when we killed that thing by the beach.” She sat down on the bed next to him. “I’ve been thinking about it. I believe that everything had to happen just that way before I could conceive this baby. We had to fight and to—to feed, in our true shapes. Then we had to make love, first as—you know—and then as we are now. It makes sense, in a strange, incomprehensible way.” Gently, Spike placed his hand over her stomach. “A baby,” he said. “The ultimate act of creation.” “I hadn’t quite thought of it in those cosmic terms,” she said. “A new life,” he muttered. “Something that was never there before, someone who never knew us before—” He kissed her, first gently, then passionately. A few moments later, they were helping each other undress. They were fumbling and incompetent with buttons and zippers because their hands were too impatient to caress each other to concentrate on more immediate and practical goals. Buffy lay down on the bed, letting him take the lead in their lovemaking. She still hadn’t told him everything she knew about the baby, but all the stress and worry that she had felt about breaking the news to him had changed to desire, and she was no longer in the mood for conversation. She felt his hands roam over her body, as if searching for any changes being wrought by the life growing inside of her. The tenderness of his touch excited her almost to the point of madness. She reached down and touched his erect cock, feeling the urgency of his passion. She opened her legs and guided him inside her, pulling his head down to hers so that she could see the wonder in his eyes as he thrust first gently, and then with abandon and what seemed to her a wild joy. When he gasped in ecstasy, she thought that she saw tears on his cheeks. Buffy nestled her shoulders back into the pillows and closed her eyes, relaxing into sleep. She felt Spike slide down her body until his head rested on her abdomen. She smiled and stroked his hair a time or two before her hands stilled and her breathing became steady. He lay as unmoving as she, eyes closed, his own breathing quiet and even.
“Hi, Dawn.” “Hi, Xander,” she replied, looking up from the TV in surprise. “When did you get here?” “Just a minute ago. I came in the back way.” “What happened to your face?” “Minor demon issues. Nothing for you to worry about. Is Buffy around?” “She and Spike are upstairs. I don’t think you should interrupt them.” He grimaced. “So they’ve hit the mattress again. Don’t those two ever stop?” “I don’t know,” said Dawn uneasily, as he sat down on the couch next to her. “It’s awfully quiet up there. I hope everything is okay.” “Ow!” Xander stuck his hand down among the sofa cushions and brought out a small hardbound book. “What’s this doing here?” “I think it’s Spike’s,” said Dawn. “Just toss it on the table.” “It’s poetry. This can’t be Spike’s.” “Sure it is. He reads that stuff all the time. When he thinks no one is looking, anyway.” “Spike reads sappy love poetry?” Xander started to laugh. Dawn snatched the book away from him. “Don’t be mean! How do you know it’s sappy, or even love poetry? Maybe it’s, like, profound stuff.” She opened the book to the place marked by a red ribbon and read the first words that came to her eyes. “Full nakedness! All joyes are due to thee, as souls unbodied, bodies uncloth’d must be, to taste whole joyes.” She slammed the book shut. “Okay,” said Xander. “Now I can believe Spike reads that stuff.” Dawn dropped the book and stood up, her face red. “I’m going to go make some popcorn.”
Xander checked to make sure Dawn was really gone before he picked up Spike’s book again. He found the poem that had so startled her and began to read at the top of the page. “‘Licence my roaving hands, and let them go, before, behind, between, above, below.’ Why didn’t they ever give us this stuff to read in high school?” He read on avidly for a few minutes before he was assailed by the image of Spike reciting this verse to Buffy in the midst of lovemaking. He gave a grunt of anger, tossed the book on the couch, and went out the front door.
A few minutes later, Dawn returned to the living room to find Xander gone. She looked unhappy for a moment, then put the bowl of popcorn down on the table and picked up the book, paging through it and stopping occasionally to read a few pages. She was engrossed in a particularly interesting passage when Spike came down the stairs and snatched his coat off the peg by the door. She closed the book, tried unobtrusively to slide it down between the sofa cushions, and cast him her most innocent look. For once, Spike failed to notice her suspicious behavior. “I’m going on patrol, Bit,” he said in a distracted tone as he shrugged on the leather duster. “Without Buffy?” “She’s tired. Asleep. I don’t want to wake her. If she wakes up, tell her I needed to go check on something and I may be late. I’ll call.” He started to go out the door, stopped, felt his pockets, and looked around aimlessly. “Try the desk,” said Dawn. He went to the desk, removed his cell phone from the charger, and left. “Wow. He remembered all by himself,” said Dawn. “I hope he’s feeling all right.” She worried about this for perhaps half a second before pulling the book out again and resuming reading.
When Dawn came downstairs the next morning, Buffy was listening to the end of a message from Spike on the answering machine. “He’s gone already?” asked Dawn. “Still,” said Buffy. “I don’t know what he’s gotten into. I hope it isn’t dangerous.” “He seemed kind of distracted last night,” said Dawn. “He didn’t tell you what he was working on?” “No,” said Buffy. “We were kind of preoccupied, though.” She opened the refrigerator and poured Dawn a glass of orange juice. “Drink some vitamins before you have coffee. I shouldn’t even be letting you have coffee yet.” “You guys are always preoccupied,” said Dawn, pulling some pizza out of the fridge and preparing to put it in the microwave. “We weren’t—well, we were, but that wasn’t the main thing preoccupying us.” Buffy took the pizza away from Dawn and handed her a banana. “I’ll make you some oatmeal.” “You’re into the mothering today,” said Dawn sulkily. “Well, yes,” said Buffy. “More than you realize.” “Huh?” Dawn suddenly realized that this conversation was heading towards more than an indictment of her eating habits. She tried to read Buffy’s expression. “What does that mean?” “How does the concept of aunthood strike you?” said Buffy hesitantly. Dawn’s eyes widened. “Does this mean you and Spike are thinking about having a baby or that it’s actually happening?” “It’s happening.” said Buffy. “I’ve got the test results and the nausea to prove it.” Dawn burst out laughing. “You and Spike with a baby,” she said finally. “That’s going to be something to see.” She hugged her sister. “No wonder he looked like a cartoon character who just had a sixteen ton weight dropped on him! How are you dealing?” “I’m okay. Excited, even. But I’ve suspected for a few weeks, so I’ve had time to get used to the idea.” “For weeks? And you never said anything to me! But I’ll yell at you about that later. Wow, a baby. Does this mean you’ll stop treating me like a baby?” Then she looked less pleased. “Does this mean you’ll start treating me like a babysitter?” “Count on it.” Buffy became serious. “This kid is going to need you, Dawn. Spike and I don’t exactly have the safest jobs in the world. If anything ever happens to us—” “It won’t,” said Dawn. “It can’t. But—Buffy, you know this is the best thing to happen to this family since Spike started needing oxygen again.” “Yeah,” said Buffy. “It is.”
“Hi, Xander,” said Buffy. “May I come in?” “Of course,” said Xander. “You’re always welcome. I said so when you called to ask if you could come over, remember? And Willow’s here too.” Buffy got a good look at Xander’s face and asked, “What happened to you?” “I came by to tell you last night, but you were too busy doing the nasty with Spike to come downstairs. I fell into a bug’s nest.” “It must have been a big bug.” “Demon bug,” said Willow. “He was telling me about it. But it sounds like it’s trapped way underground now. We can discuss that later, Buffy. We’re on the edges of our seats wondering what you wanted to talk to us about.” Buffy came into the living room and perched gingerly on a chair. Xander went to sit next to Willow on the couch. They both regarded her uncertainly. “I have kind of big news,” said Buffy. “Oh?” said Willow, looking worried. Xander made a show of looking around. “I notice the former undead guy isn’t here,” he said. “Is this news about him?” “Well, yes, he’s involved,” said Buffy. “You’re leaving him?” asked Xander. “What?” Buffy looked astonished. “No, of course not. It’s nothing like that. Kind of the reverse.” “What could be the reverse and news at the same time?” said Xander. “You’re already married to the freak.” Now Buffy looked hurt and astonished. “Don’t call him that, Xander,” said Willow, giving him a disappointed and angry glance. “Buffy, tell us your news.” “I—this isn’t something I expected to ever be able to say. Spike and I are going to have a baby.” Willow and Xander’s initial reactions were identical; they stared at her in astonishment. Their subsequent behaviors, however, was almost exactly the opposite of each other. Willow dove forward to hug Buffy, smiling with pleasure. “A baby? I can’t believe it! I’m so happy for you!” She pulled away for a second. “You are happy for you, aren’t you?” “Yeah, I am,” said Buffy. Willow hugged her close again. “And Spike must be so thrilled! This is so great. Mega-great. Now he must feel really human. We should have a party to celebrate.” Xander stood up and stepped back, staring at the two women as if they were alien creatures. “Celebrate? Celebrate what? That she’s been knocked up by that creep who she should never have let touch her in the first place? That she’s—You’re not going to go through with this, are you Buffy?” “What?” Buffy stared at him, appalled. “I’ve been waiting to tell people because I was afraid it wasn’t true. This is something I thought I could never have. To find this out—it was a gift, Xander. I know it’s not going to be easy, but I want this baby. After all the horror and death in my world, I want to be able to give life.” “Yeah, if you were with someone decent. But Spike’s baby? What’s that likely to be like?” “That’s enough, Xander,” said Willow, standing up and meeting him eye to eye. “How can you say these things? Can’t you see how much you’re upsetting her?” “Yeah, because we don’t want to upset the delicate pregnant lady,” said Xander. He was about to push past Willow to confront Buffy, but Willow grabbed him by the arms and tried to restrain him. “I’m leaving,” said Buffy, heading for the door. “I can’t listen to this, not today. Not ever. Xander, I can’t believe you would say those things to me.” She was gone, slamming the door behind her. Willow looked as if she wanted to chase after Buffy, but she was too angry with Xander not to let her feelings out to him first. “You idiot,” she said, shoving him in the chest. “Why would you talk to her like that? I know you’ve never quite gotten over her choosing Spike, but how could you say those things about Buffy’s baby? How could you act this way?” “How could I act this way?” demanded Xander. “How could you act the way you’ve been acting? Do you think I haven’t noticed the way Spike can’t do any wrong in your eyes anymore? What’s that about, Willow?” He had put his hands on her shoulders to hold her away from him. Now, his hands slid down her arms and then to her waist. “What, did you spend so many nights listening to him bang Buffy that you’re starting to get interested yourself?” His hands started to move up under her shirt. “Deciding you’re not quite as gay as you thought you were? Or just wanting to see what it was like to mess around with an ex-corpse?” Willow shoved him away in disgust and turned to leave the apartment, urgent to get away from Xander and to console Buffy. But by the time she reached the front entrance, Buffy had gone.
“Spike?” Dawn came into the kitchen to find Spike leaning over with both hands on the counter, his gaze apparently transfixed by an empty cereal bowl and a loaf of bread. “Are you okay?” “Yes, pet,” he said looking up and smiling with an effort. “Just tired. I was out all night.” “I know. Buffy was worried.” “Didn’t she get my messages?” “Yeah, but she hoped you’d let her know where you were and what you were doing so she could help.” “I thought she could use the rest,” said Spike. “I get it,” said Dawn, smiling suddenly. “You’re going to be the overprotective expectant father. This should be interesting.” “Buffy told you?” “This morning. Then she went out to tell Xander and Willow.” She laughed, unable to restrain her pleasure. “It’s such great news, Spike!” Forgetting how difficult he found it to accept a friendly embrace, she threw her arms around him. Startled, he did nothing for a moment, then slowly raised his hands to return her hug. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Xander was standing in the kitchen doorway, gaping at them in rage. “Bloody hell,” said Spike, pushing Dawn away so that he could stand between her and Xander. “I don’t believe this,” said Xander. “You’re one slimy bastard! First you knock up her sister and now you’re going after Dawn!” “What!” Dawn turned to stare at him incredulously. “Xander, what’s the matter with you? You can’t think that Spike was coming on to me?” “Oh, no, I can’t think that the randiest guy in Sunnydale would make a pass at a beautiful girl! I can’t believe we all let him stay in the same house with you for so long. I’m sure he’s already been banging Willow on the side, and now he’s after you.” “Xander, this is just sick,” said Dawn, looking pale. But Xander, beyond reason, stepped forward and threw a punch at Spike’s head. Spike dodged it almost absent-mindedly, ducking down and sweeping out one leg. Xander was knocked off balance and hit the floor with a thud. “I don’t know what bloody stupid idea you’ve got in that head of yours,” said Spike, “but I’ll break your skull open for you and let it out unless you get out of this house and stay away from my family.” He picked Xander up by the back of his shirt and the seat of his pants, and threw him into the back yard before slamming and locking the door. Dawn ran to look out the door and make sure that Xander was not too badly hurt. She saw him pick himself up and walk away with several angry backwards glances. “Stupid git,” said Spike almost reasonably. “If I thought he had half an idea of the real reason why he was so upset, I would break his head open.” He looked at Dawn. “I need to go to the magic shop, and I don’t like the idea of leaving you here alone in case he comes back.” “That’s okay,” said Dawn. “I was going over Janice’s anyway to work on a school project with her and Heather.” “Good,” said Spike. “I’ll drop you off there.” “But, Spike, what are we going to do about Xander?” “I don’t know, pet. He’s the least of my problems right now. I’ll talk to Buffy about him. But from what he said, she may already know he’s gone off the deep end.”
Dawn was unable to engage Spike in any real conversation about either Xander or the baby. He seemed extremely preoccupied, but didn’t respond when she asked if there was a new big bad that he was tracking. As he drove her to Janice’s house, he asked suddenly, “Pet, didn’t you say you talked to Tara yesterday? Is there any chance she might be coming back to town early from this practicum thing she had to do for school?” Dawn shook her head. “No, she said she’d be back for sure by late afternoon and that she’d come to the shop, but she couldn’t make it before then. She had some work to finish up this morning before she could start back to Sunnydale. Why? Can’t you watch the store this morning? If you need me to be at the Magic Box, I can ask my friends to work on this project there.” “No, that’s not it. Don’t worry, Bit.” She got out of the car and headed towards the door of Janice’s house, turning once to look back with a worried expression. He had already pulled away from the curb. That in itself was unusual. Most of the time, he thoroughly embarrassed her by watching to see that she got safely inside the house.
Spike opened the door to the magic shop, pulled off his coat, and began going through the pockets. He found several sheets of crumpled up paper in the breast pocket and flattened them out one by one until he found a supermarket receipt with a phone number scrawled on the back. He went to the phone and dialed the number. “Hello, Ginger,” he said after a moment. “Yeah, I’m fine. Uh, I wondered if I could ask you a favor.” He listened for a moment in growing uneasiness. “No, that wasn’t exactly what I—never mind. No, I—I, uh, I don’t have time.” He hung up, looking startled, and went through his motley collection of phone numbers again. “Hello, Sage?” he said. “Uh, hi, Valerian. Is your grandmother there? What’s the matter? I know, you just said there’s something up with the Coven, but what is it exactly? Anything I can help with?” He looked even more startled than he had when speaking to Ginger. “Bloody hell, no!” he said, and hung up again. He ran his hands through his hair, muttering obscenities. He thought for a moment, donned his coat again, and locked up the shop.
“So,” said Dawn, “what would you do if someone you really trusted accused you of doing something and that showed you he didn’t trust you at all? Or that he thought you were just a silly kid who would let someone take advantage of her?” “I don’t know,” said Janice. “Who doesn’t trust you? Is it Travis?” She leaned across the table. This conversation was clearly more interesting than the school project they had gathered to complete. “Travis?” asked
Dawn, as if she had trouble remembering who that was. “No, I “Who were you supposed to be getting nasty with?” asked Heather. “That’s the really sick part,” said Dawn. “With Spike.” “But, he’s, like, your brother,” said Janice. “Isn’t he?” “Yeah,” said Dawn. “Too bad for you,” said Heather. “He’s so hot, it must be sickening that he’s married to your sister. Wouldn’t you like to be with him yourself?” “Ick,” said Dawn. “He’s a lot older than me, and, well, it would just be gross, Heather.” “I don’t think it would be gross. Do you remember the way he chased Kyle off yesterday? That was so cool. Spike’s, like, really strong and he has that accent and those shivery blue eyes and –” “You just don’t
get it, Heather. Spike’s not some guy I talk about like that. “Maybe this person is jealous,” said Janice. “I’m sure he is,” said Dawn miserably. “But does that mean he has to be such a jerk?”
Spike knocked impatiently on the dorm room door. The building was filled with people, and he was too preoccupied to pay attention to the humans he sensed within until he realized he had been waiting an unreasonable period of time. Then he stiffened and would have left, but the door opened suddenly. “Spike!” Willow was wrapped in a long robe, her hair in disarray. “Join the party.” She threw the door open, and he saw that there was a blonde woman lying on the bed, barely covered by a sheet. “This is Carrie.” “Hi,” said Carrie. “Uh, hi,” said Spike. He swallowed his surprise. “Willow, could I ask you a favor? In private?” “Sure,” said Willow, but she made no move and said nothing to Carrie. “I get it,” said the woman on the bed. “It’s okay. I have to use the bathroom anyway.” She threw off the sheet and walked out the door naked. “I see you’re going after a different type these days,” said Spike. “Oh, Carrie’s lots of fun,” said Willow. “Not much in the way of inhibitions, if you know what I mean.” “That’s bloody obvious.” “Hey,” said Willow. “So you’re going to be a daddy. That’s great, Spike.” “Yeah,” said Spike. “But there’s something—” Before he could continue, Carrie came back in. She giggled as she walked around him, sizing him up, then went over and whispered something in Willow’s ear. She tossed herself back on the bed and lay watching Spike with obvious intent. He ignored this and said evenly, “Willow, I really need this discussion to be private.” “Oh, privacy is overrated,” said Willow. “It’s not my usual thing, but this is a special occasion. Why don’t you celebrate with us? I think Carrie would like that. She said you have nice eyes. You do, you know.” She reached out a hand to touch his face. Spike grabbed her by the arm of her robe, arresting her movement. “You’ve looked into my eyes before, Willow,” he said. “Are you sure you want to touch me and do that again?” Willow hissed in sudden remembrance and jerked her arm away from him. She backed away slowly and shuddered. “What did you want?” she asked hoarsely. “Never mind,” said Spike. “The friend I thought I could ask for a favor doesn’t appear to be here.” He left. Willow sat on the edge of a chair, gazing deep inside herself. When she looked up again, Carrie was standing in front of her, still naked. Willow sighed, and shut her eyes. “Honey, you have to go,” she said with an extreme effort.
Buffy came into the house and checked the answering machine. There was a brief message from Spike saying that he was trying to track something down and warning her that Xander was behaving oddly. She grimaced at the mention of Xander and went into the kitchen. When she made herself lunch, she found another uninformative note from Spike on the refrigerator. While she ate her sandwich, she tried to wonder what he was doing, but she found it hard to concentrate on anything except the visions she had been having of the baby. She wondered if all pregnant women became so obsessed with the lives growing inside them. She had always thought it a silly cliché to refer to babies as small miracles, but after what had happened over the past few months it hardly seemed an overstatement. Several months ago, a doctor had told her that it was impossible for her to become pregnant. But he had examined her body in its normal, human form. When Buffy became the Slayer in her primal state, she changed physically. She could feel the greater strength she possessed then, and she knew from looking at Spike’s similar change that her features were distorted into something both like and unlike a vampire’s mask. But she had no way of knowing what the transformation could do to her internal organs. Five minutes later, Buffy felt like she had vomited up all of her internal organs. She stood up, brushed her teeth, and stared at her image in the bathroom mirror. Then she felt a lurch in her stomach, and her hand curled protectively over her abdomen. To her own eyes, she looked very pale and absolutely terrified. There was a growling sound. She sighed and went down into the kitchen to make herself a second lunch. She was starving again. She hoped that this wouldn’t go on for too long; not only was it disgusting, it promised to be hard on the grocery budget.
The pretty dark-haired woman hovered nervously next to a display of candles. “It’s not anything really difficult,” she told Spike, “but I do have some concerns. You see, I have a hob.” “A goblin?” Spike was listening to her intently. “Yes. I know some of them are nice, but this one, well, it isn’t. It breaks things, and makes messes, and it has a really foul mouth. I got the apartment cheap because no one else could stand it. But unless I can drive this thing away, I’m going to have to move out too. I found a spell that I think will work, but I’d like some help on the details.” “Yeah.” Spike looked around the Magic Box. There were four or five other customers wandering around. “I think we can help you out, but now isn’t the best time. Things usually slow down here about three o’clock or so. Could you come back then, uh, is it Natalie?” “Yes,” she said, smiling. “My name’s Natalie. And I think I can do that.”
Buffy went into the office and tried to drop off some paperwork. However, the secretary who was supposed to file the papers was sprawled across her desk cuddling a telephone receiver and earnestly discussing her plans for the evening with her boyfriend. Buffy overheard enough details to make her blush. She held on to the papers and went into Tom’s office. Her boss was sitting at his desk, staring at the family portraits on his credenza. He looked up when she came in and smiled. “Hi, Buffy,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Hi,” she said, sitting down across from him. “I finished that job. The normal one. I tried to give Sarah the paperwork but she seemed kind of—busy.” “Oh?” He took the papers from her and tossed them on his desk without looking at them. “How are you, Buffy?” “I’m fine,” she said, frowning a little at his tone. He leaned forward. “Have I ever told you that having you work here makes me feel good?” Buffy’s eyes widened a little, but she said nothing. “Having someone so young and beautiful around here, it makes me—it reminds me of the days when I was a young demon hunter and how everything got so mixed up in my head—the fighting, the hating, the loving, the sex. Do you know what I want to do right now?” Buffy shook her head. He stood up. “Well, I’m going to do it. I’m going to go home and see if I can enjoy a nooner with my wife.” He left the room. “Okay,” said Buffy, who had been left sitting by herself. “That was unexpected. And not quite as scary as I thought it was getting, but scary enough.” She pulled out her cell phone, and for the fifth or sixth time that day, she tried to track down Spike. He had always just left the magic shop each time she stopped in, his cell phone was turned off, and even Clem claimed not to have seen him. She checked her voicemail again, and found another vague message from Spike from an undisclosed location. However, there was also an urgent message from Willow, who wanted to see her right away. Buffy was concerned enough by the tone of the message to go to Willow’s dorm immediately. She was surprised to pass so many couples groping each other as she walked through campus. She wondered if a couple of years away from school, a few months of marriage, and a few weeks of impending motherhood had combined to make her more prudish. Surely there had not been quite so much heavy breathing in the hallways when she went to UC Sunnydale? Willow opened the door immediately after Buffy’s knock. The Slayer stepped back a pace, startled at her friend’s disheveled appearance. “Willow, are you all right?” She stretched out a hand. Willow jumped back like a frightened animal and stared up at Buffy with wild eyes. “Don’t touch me, Buffy,” she cried in anguish. “Whatever you do, don’t touch me!”
Spike punched buttons on his phone, muttering to himself as he accessed his voicemail. There was only one message. It was just a few minutes old and it was from Buffy. “Spike, I need you to meet Willow and me in her dorm room. Something’s going on and we need your help. We’re—well, we had to go someplace, but we’ll be back at Willow’s in about fifteen minutes. It’s almost three o’clock now. Willow says to tell you that she’s back to normal again. Well, almost. She says to tell you there was a reason she was acting kind of crazy. We need to explain it to you.” Her tone became more urgent. “Please, come right now.”
Natalie came back into the Magic Box and smiled hesitantly at the figure sitting at the round table near the back of the shop. She approached slowly, clutching the bag containing her magic supplies. “Hi,” she said. Tara smiled. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Tara. Are you Natalie?” “Yes. Did Spike tell you I was coming?” “He left a note. He had to go out before I got back. He said you were having some trouble with a spell?” Natalie sank down gratefully onto the chair next to Tara. “That’s right. He told me you were really knowledgeable, and I just want to be careful not to do anything wrong. I mean, I’ve heard stories about people who do black magic and what happens to them.” Tara shivered. “I’ve done more than hear stories,” she said. “Oh?” Natalie looked taken aback. “My—my ex-girlfriend got too involved in magic. To put it mildly. It caused lots of problems. Also to put it mildly.” “Oh?” Natalie looked taken aback again. “You had a girlfriend?” “Well, yeah. Does that bother you?” “No, it’s just, I kind of thought you and Spike—” Tara laughed. “No way. He’s married to one of my best friends.” “Oh. I get it now. I was just confused. And, really, it doesn’t bother me. About the girlfriends. I mean, I’ve had girlfriends too.” “Oh!” Tara’s smile changed a little in character. She looked at Natalie as if noticing her for the first time. “Had?” she asked. “Yes, I broke up with someone a few months ago.” “Really?” Tara’s smile broadened.
Spike sat next to Buffy on the edge of Willow’s bed. Willow sat at her desk, surrounded by papers and smelly chemical equipment. She was still nervous and worried, but she felt in command of herself and the situation. “People are doing things they would never ordinarily do,” she explained to Spike. “But it’s not because they want to. At least, they want to do those things, but they can’t entirely control how hard they fight their impulses. It’s pheromones.” “Pheromones?” Spike looked from Willow to Buffy. “Smelly bug stuff,” said Buffy. “We had to deal with it once before with a different big scary bug. Willow found out that Xander’s new bug is messing with people’s hormones worse than puberty does.” Willow explained further. “Every cycle—and I can’t figure out how long a cycle is, but I’m pretty sure we’re talking longer than a human life span—a queen dies. Then one of the other females in the nest converts itself into a queen and comes down to the hellmouth—” “Where else?” interjected Buffy in a tone of disgust. “–to wait for some males to come and impregnate her. Once she has sex with about a dozen of them, she has enough sperm to keep making babies for her entire lifetime.” “So this is her one big bang?” Spike now looked fascinated in spite of himself. “Yes. And because the males of this species are all kicked out of the main nest when they mature, they live far away from the females. So these bugs have to send out really powerful signals so that they can find each other. I’m also guessing that the rockslide Xander mentioned has cut the males off from the queen so they can’t boogie. They just keep getting more and more excited and making more pheromones. Hence the sexual chaos in Sunnydale.” “All this is because a bunch of bugs can’t shag?” asked Spike. “Yes. But it gets worse. Xander fell into the queen’s nest, where it’s waiting for its mates. He must have picked up some of its secretions on his skin. They seem to have gotten in through his sweat glands and he’s been passing them on to other people.” “Secretions?” said Spike. “Yeah,” said Buffy. “Secretions. As in ick.” “As in, the secretions that let the males know that they’ve rounded the bases and it’s time to slide into home,” said Willow. “You see, there seem to be two kinds of the toxin. The airborne one is from the males, and it just makes people hornier than usual, which accounts for all the love in the air around Sunnydale lately. Those pheromones seem to be coming up through the vents in the tunnels under town. They should wear off pretty fast when the bugs are done mating. But the sweat-based stuff makes Viagra look like a sleeping pill. When you’re infected with it, you start out overly aggressive and you eventually reach the stage of jumping everything that moves.” She felt sick to her stomach at the memory. “I’ve come up with an antidote that gets the stuff out of the victim’s system in a few hours. But it should wear off in a day or so in any case—unless the victim gets contaminated again.” “This is just great,” said Spike. “So we either kill this bitch and her boyfriends or put up a sign claiming to be the orgy capital of the world?” “Well, that would be one solution,” said Willow slowly. “Killing the bugs, I mean. But the hive might just send down another queen and some more mates. It would be a lot easier if we just let her complete her mission. Then these things would stop making the pheromones. It’s not like they’re deliberately trying to cause havoc. And in between mating seasons, the only thing they prey on are vermin. For all we know, they’re an important part of some ecosystem.” “So you want me to help some giant bug get laid?” demanded Spike. Then he laughed. “Why does this sound like a job for Xander?” “Xander can’t do this. As soon as I knew the antidote would work, Buffy and I went to his apartment and administered it to him. He should be all right in a few hours, but he’s not in any state to help right now.” “Bloody hell. Xander. Of course,” said Spike, suddenly relating recent events to Willow’s narrative. “No wonder he was acting like the back half of a horse earlier. Do you think it was the best move to leave him alone? He was getting violent when I saw him last.” “It’s okay,” said Buffy. “We left him in shackles.” “You shackled Xander? While he was suffering from a demonic hard-on?” Spike didn’t look very pleased at the mental image conjured up by this revelation. Willow rushed to clarify Buffy’s explanation. “Oh, no. That’s how we found him. In the shackles. We thought it was safer to leave him that way, especially because I didn’t want Buffy touching anyone who was infected. I don’t want to give her the antidote unless I have to, on account of her pregnancy. I was able to convince the girls who were with Xander to take some sedatives by letting them believe the pills were something that would let them get even more excited, and they’re sleeping it off now. But Xander wasn’t falling for that ruse, so I just got Buffy to distract him, then ran up and injected him in his tush with the antidote. Then we left him there.” “And that,” said Buffy firmly, “is all that we will ever tell you about what happened at Xander’s today.”
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