TITLE: The Ticking Clock
AUTHOR: JK Philips
RATING: R (some implied sex)
SUMMARY: After my resurrection of Buffy in “Death Brings Clarity.” Can Buffy and Giles live happily ever after? Or will the very nature of the Slayer tear them apart? Is it illness, a spell, or just the next level of her slayer powers? I got this idea from a challenge on the Watching You, Watching Me website. I won’t tell you which challenge, because that would give it away. :)
SPOILERS: Everything up to “The Gift”
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters; they are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy & Fox. I simply am doing this for fun, and non-profit use.
EMAIL:
. Would love feedback. This is only my second fanfic. :)MY WEBSITE: www.jkphilips.com
--------------------------------------------------- Part 2: Last Call Giles researched through the night. The next morning was Sunday, and the shop was closed. Perfect for Scoobie research. He called the group together and explained Buffy’s situation, editing out the more intimate details of the night before. It was enough to tell them that she was putting in overtime with the patrolling and that her sexdrive had well… umm… had really gone through the roof. He blushed, and the others took a moment to tease him and further enjoy his embarrassment before he could pull them back on topic. Her behavior at the Bronze on Friday night and her flirting at the store yesterday were both explained as part of whatever was happening to her. Her friends seemed relieved by that explanation, because none of them had really been looking forward to choosing sides between Buffy and Giles. With a little prodding from Xander, Anya apologized for her comments to Buffy, and the gang were all of the good once again. They spent from Sunday until Friday researching Buffy's symptoms. Willow and Tara researched through the spellbooks and the rest poured through Giles’ volumes of past watcher journals. Every time they thought they might be close to the answer, they hit a dead end. Willow thought she’d found a love spell, and suspicion immediately fell on Spike. But the counterspell only proved that Buffy wasn’t under the influence of that particular magic. That led Buffy to remember the Tirer la Couture spell she’d done when her mother was ill. So Willow tried to “pull the curtain back,” but when she looked at Buffy, she was just Buffy, without a trace of magic. So they all focused on the Watchers’ Diaries. And through the whole week, Buffy hunted like a slayer possessed. With Giles, she was insatiable. Without him, well they never left her unchaperoned. Xander was quickly taken off the list of chaperones after Buffy kissed him too. She was mortified, and it took some convincing before Anya would agree that vengeance was not necessary in this case. A whole week, and still no closer to an answer. But then when Buffy returned home after her Friday classes, she found Giles waiting for her and Dawn spending the evening with Willow and Tara. Something was definitely up. “Uh-oh. You got Watcher-face. Did you figure out what’s wrong with me?” Giles crossed to the living room and sat on the couch, motioning for Buffy to follow. “Buffy, sit down with me.” “That can’t be good.” But she did as he asked. “I’ve been reading through stacks of Watchers’ Diaries. There are literally thousands of them, Buffy. I, myself, have filled three in the five years you’ve been my slayer. But since I started focusing on the slayers who reached your age, I’ve found other instances of these same symptoms. I think we have our answer.” Giles removed his glasses and looked into her eyes. “Buffy, I think you’re nesting.” “Nesting? What am I, a bird?” He continued, his tone and demeanor very serious. “At this point in your life, your Slayer metabolism has kicked into overdrive. Your body is telling you that your biological clock, as it were, is about to run out.” “Are we talking babies here, Giles?” Giles looked down at the glasses in his hands, answering her very softly. “Yes.” Buffy leaned back into the couch, completely stunned. “My body’s telling me to have a baby?” Giles replaced his glasses and studied her for a moment before answering her question. “Your body is telling you that, as the Slayer, you don’t have the same window of time as other women. You feel the urge to hunt so that you may eliminate as many threats as possible before pregnancy would necessitate that you take a break. And the increased sexdrive…” He trailed off. “Would be how I’m supposed to get the baby,” she finished for him. She chuckled to herself. “Guess Slayer metabolism didn’t take into account birth control.” Buffy looked over at her Watcher. He didn’t look amused. He looked like they were discussing the apocalypse. There was something he hadn’t told her yet. “So how long does this nesting stuff last?” she asked. “Do you want some tea, Buffy?” She blinked, startled by the abrupt shift in conversation. “What I want is for you to tell me why you’re looking at me like I’m dying or something.” His eyes grew wide, and he quickly covered her hand with his own. “No, no, Buffy, it’s nothing like that. You’re going to be fine.” “Then why with the long face?” He turned from her, that same expression of imminent doom flashing across his features. He laced their fingers together, his thumb nervously stroking the back of her hand. “Some of the watchers’ journals become somewhat vague or have significant periods of time missing. I think those are the slayers who gave into this drive. The Watcher’s Council frowns on pregnant slayers, so those watchers were probably attempting to protect their slayers until they delivered. But I did manage to find a few references to the slayers and their babies, so we know those slayers suffered no ill effects and had healthy children.” Buffy leaned forward so she could look into his eyes. “Why do I get the impression that I’m not going to like what happened to the other slayers, the ones who didn’t go and get themselves knocked up?” He shifted on the couch to face her. He released her hand and instead put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her up against his chest. “You’re going to be fine, Buffy.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “The vast majority of slayers who experienced this chose not to have a baby or were prevented from doing so by their watchers. The records of them are much more detailed. The symptoms always disappeared within two or three months.” “Months? Two or three months?” Buffy pulled away from Giles, her eyes wide with panic. “I can’t keep going like this for two or three months!” Giles smiled slightly, the first smile he had given her since sitting her down for their serious talk. One hand brushed her blond hair back from her face, and then rested against her cheek. “You’ll manage, Buffy. And in two or three months, you’ll be yourself again.” Buffy frowned, growing suspicious. Nothing Giles had told her so far warranted his dark mood. “What aren’t you telling me? You seem rather glum for someone who just found out his slayer’s going to be okay.” The smile left his face, and he took one of her hands in both of his. “Buffy, all of the other slayers who experienced what you’re going through, after the symptoms disappeared, they… well…” He took a deep breath and just blurted it out. “They couldn’t have children anymore.” “What?” Buffy’s head was spinning. At 20, she didn’t really give much thought to kids, but the idea that she wouldn’t ever have the option, well it was like whole worlds of possibilities had just been snuffed out. “Ever? But why?” Giles squeezed the hand he was still holding between both of his. He looked up, as if the answer could be found written somewhere on the ceiling. “None of the watchers knew why and neither do I. But after the symptoms disappeared, the slayers all stopped… umm…” He cleared his throat and finished awkwardly. “…stopped menstruating.” She was silent for several moments before she felt his eyes on her, trying to gage her reaction. She knew he was concerned, and for his sake, she tried to reassure him with a soft smile and a light joke. “On the upside, no more PMS.” And then his quiet compassion was too much, and she just couldn’t sit there anymore. She stood and started pacing in front of the coffee table. “But that might not happen to me, right, Giles?” He looked pained and in the end couldn’t meet her eyes. He hid behind the motions of polishing his glasses. “After the first few references, I wanted to be sure. I was able to find over 30 different slayers who went through this, but the result was always the same.” Buffy nodded absently and crossed her arms. He was watching her again, and then he rose and moved to stand in front of her. He didn’t seem to know what to do, but he was trying. He touched her softly on the shoulder. He swallowed and murmured, “Buffy, I’m so sorry.” Part of her wanted him to hold her, wanted to weep against his chest and wrap herself in his warmth and kindness and protest the unfairness of the whole slayer package. But she needed to think about everything he had just told her. And if she stayed here, Giles’ soft sympathy would be her undoing. She had to keep it together long enough to think everything through. “Giles, I need to go for a walk. Alone. I need to think.” Riley hadn’t understood this need while Buffy was dealing with her mother’s illness. He had thought that he owned her completely and any part of herself she withheld was a part she denied him. But Giles simply nodded, understanding. This was how he dealt with his hurts too. Time alone to think and then after, if needed, time to confide and be consoled by another. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. Don’t wait up.” Giles nodded again and walked her to the door. “However long you need, Buffy. Just be careful on patrol.” She walked out the front door, still in a daze, but at the last moment doubled back to give Giles a parting kiss. “I’ll be fine,” she whispered. “I know,” he answered. Buffy left with no clear destination. She walked the streets of Sunnydale in a fog. The only clear images she saw were those of mothers and daughters, fathers and sons. She passed a pregnant woman just outside the coffee shop. She went to the mall, and it felt like every person she passed was pushing a baby stroller. She sat in the food court for an hour, watching mothers feed their children, and wipe ice cream from their fingers, and tell them not to stand on their chairs, and don’t torment your brother! Fathers and mothers who weren’t slayers, who could have children whenever they liked, who wouldn’t be sterile at 20. Sterile. Adjective. Incapable of producing offspring; barren. Infertile, childless, empty, desolate, inhospitable. She had told Angel once that she didn’t need him to give her children. And he had told her that one day she would want it all. He was right, but that didn’t matter. Slayers didn’t get to have it all. Buffy dropped her head onto the table in the middle of the food court and started sobbing. Passersby gave her sympathetic looks, but no one stopped to ask her what was wrong. *** Giles slept fitfully, waiting for Buffy to come home. He had fetched Dawn from Willow and Tara’s soon after Buffy left, mostly to keep him company and keep him occupied. They had rented videos and ordered pizza and spent the evening together, just the two of them. Dawn had asked him what was wrong, but he answered that it was something her sister would have to tell her. Dawn had gotten pretty good at reading Giles, after living together all these months. So she had kept him distracted with funny stories and wisecracks about the movie they were watching. She had even discovered, quite on accident, that Giles was ticklish. He had let her stay up late if she promised never to let her sister in on that fact. And now it was the middle of the night, and her sister had yet to return from patrol. Giles got up and slipped on his robe. He walked down the hall towards the stairs, intending to check if he had missed Buffy coming in and if she might be downstairs. But when he passed Dawn’s room, the room that used to be Buffy’s before they gave Dawn the bigger bedroom and converted her old one into his study, when he passed her room, the door was ajar and Buffy was sleeping curled up next to her sister. He smiled sadly, wishing he could somehow make this easier for his slayer. He turned and went back to sleep in his own bed. *** Dawn woke up when she had to go pee. She nearly fell on the floor when she tangled herself up in the body lying next to her on the bed. Buffy, who hadn’t been there when she went to sleep. Dawn would have fallen, but sometimes there were benefits to having a sister with slayer reflexes. “Dawn, are you okay?” “Yeah, but I didn’t know I was sharing my bed.” Buffy bit her lip and stared down at her hands. “I just wanted to sleep with you tonight. Is that okay?” Dawn shrugged. “Sure.” She looked towards the hallway and then back to Buffy. She really had to pee, but she could hold it. She climbed back in next to Buffy, and they snuggled together as they had as children camping, when they’d had to share the one bed in the pop up trailer. “Did you and Giles have a fight?” she asked. “No, just some bad news.” Dawn reflected back on the evening she had spent with Giles and thought of the something he said Buffy would have to tell her. “Is it about whatever’s been making you act all weird?” Buffy began petting her sister’s hair, smiling sadly. Dawn could see that her sister was on the verge of tears. “Yeah, he figured out what’s wrong.” Dawn felt terror fill her whole body. This is how it had started with Mom. She couldn’t lose Buffy again. The last time was the worst time of her life. She could barely choke out the words. “You’re going to be okay, right?” “I’m going to be fine, Dawn. I’ll be back to normal in a couple months.” Dawn nodded, relieved, and Buffy continued. “Turns out it’s a slayer thing. My body wants me to have a baby right now. Kind of a last chance deal. After the symptoms go away, and I’m back to normal, I won’t be able to have kids anymore.” Buffy closed her eyes, and Dawn could see a few tears slip down her cheeks. Dawn reached out, and now she was the one stroking Buffy’s hair. “So, are you gonna?” Buffy opened her eyes again, her forehead creasing in confusion. “Gonna what?” Dawn rolled her eyes. Sometimes her sister could be so dense. “Have a baby.” Buffy seemed to think about that for a moment, as if it hadn’t crossed her mind before. “I don’t know. I guess I hadn’t thought about it. What do you think?” Dawn shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, but she was already getting excited about the idea. “I dunno. Might be kinda cool. I’d like to be an aunt. And you know, Giles would make a good dad. Oooh, and you can make the study into a nursery, with like cows or puppies or something non-demony. And Giles can watch him while you’re at class. And maybe I could babysit sometimes.” Buffy laughed and pulled Dawn in close. “Ok, you’re starting to scare me. How long have you been planning this out?” “So are you?” Buffy smiled and kissed her sister on the cheek. “I’ll think about it. Now go to sleep.” “Ok, but I have to go pee first.” Dawn slipped out of bed and down the hall, stopping in front of Giles’ study and trying to imagine how it would look as a nursery, with a crib and a changing table and a little mobile hanging from the ceiling. She tried to imagine what it would be like to come in here at night and watch her little niece or nephew sleeping. *** “Wow,” Willow said. “That’s like huge.” Buffy sighed. “I know.” The two friends were sitting on Willow’s bed, discussing Buffy’s dilemma. Tara sat on the floor across from them, listening quietly. Buffy sighed again. “You know, I always thought about kids like way in the future. Way, way, in the future. But I don’t really have a way-in-the-future to have kids in. I s’pose it’s only natural for a Slayer’s body to be like ‘Come on, girl, last call for babies.’” Buffy dropped her head in her hands, feeling totally lost. “What should I do, Willow?” Willow waved her hands in a kind of ‘no, no, no’ gesture. “I can’t tell you what to do here, Buffy. Ask me about what you should order for breakfast or which outfit you should wear to the Bronze. Those are the kinds of decisions I’m good at. But babies? Ok, now we’re way over my head.” Willow threw a ‘help me’ glance in Tara’s direction, but the blond witch just shook her head quickly. Willow turned back to her best friend. “What does Giles think?” Buffy shrugged. “I haven’t really talked with him about it.” Willow threw up her hands. “Omigod. Well, there’s where you should totally start.” “I don’t know, Wills, I just want to sort it out by myself first. Figure out what I want. Then I’ll talk to him about it.” There was a knock at the door, and Xander walked in. “Hey, Will, the movie starts in 15 minutes. Aren’t you ready to go yet? Come on, it’s Gladiator II, and I can’t wait to see how they bring Russell Crowe back. ‘He defeated the Emperor. He defeated Death. Can he be defeated in the Arena?’” Xander stopped his deadpan imitation of the movie’s promos when he took in the serious expressions of everyone around him. “What’s the sitch? You guys look like someone died.” Then his eyes got really big, and Willow jumped in to stop him. “No, no, no one died, Xander. Giles just figured out what’s wrong with Buffy.” He released his held breath and shook his head. “Ok, so that’s a good thing, right? I mean, Buffy’s going to be okay? Giles can fix it?” Willow looked back at her friend, and so Tara stepped in to bring Xander up to speed. A few moments later, and Xander had joined Buffy and Willow on the bed, also in shock. “Wow, Buffy,” he said. “That’s huge.” “Yeah.” Buffy started picking at a loose thread on the hem of her top. “The thing is… If this is my last shot… I think I might want it… want a baby, I mean. You guys think that’s crazy? You think I could do it? Be a mom?” She didn’t look up to see their reactions. She was a little afraid of what she might see in their expressions. She was being crazy. She was too young. But Willow sounded hopeful. “I think you’d be a great mom, Buffy. And you’d have all of us. We’d help out.” Tara added helpfully, “Yeah, we’d all help. Anything you need.” Xander put in his two cents. “Hey, it’d be like Scoobie gang does babysitting duty.” Buffy looked up then, tears shining in her eyes. “You guys are all great. You know how great you guys are? You are all like the best.” Then came the group hug, and Buffy left the dorm in a much better mood than when she came. She sat in the Espresso Pump the rest of the afternoon, thinking. She thought about it the whole afternoon. She wrote up a list of pros and cons on a napkin. If she was going to do this, then she would be mature about it. Mature. If she was going to be someone’s mother, then she would have to be mature. That went down in the ‘con’ column. Then just before Giles would usually get back from the magic shop, she went home and talked with Dawn. She sat, watched TV with her sister, and waited for Giles to get home, feeling perhaps more nervous than she had ever felt before. *** Giles walked in the front door. Dawn bounced up almost immediately and waved goodbye to her sister, saying to Giles, “Gotta run. Melinda said I could have dinner at her house tonight. Back at 9, ok?” She gave him a goofy little grin and surprised him with a kiss on the cheek before running out the door. Buffy was sitting on the couch watching him intently. “Why do I get the distinct impression that I’m being set up?” Buffy patted the cushion next to her. “Because you’re smart. And you’re right. Come sit with me, Giles.” He frowned. “That can’t be good.” But he sat, and he waited. “I’ve been thinking a lot about everything you told me yesterday. Actually, it’s just about all I’ve been doing.” He raised his eyebrows, indicating that she should go on. She seemed nervous, and started to babble. “I never really thought about wanting kids. You know the whole slayer thing. And then you know Angel couldn’t have them, and Riley… It’s a good thing I didn’t go through this phase a year ago, ’cause this would have really freaked him out.” She shook her head, as if to clear away this train of thought. She met his eyes, and there was something in them he couldn’t read. She took a deep breath. “Ok, just realizing that a girl shouldn’t talk about past lovers when she’s trying to ask a man to father her child.” He blinked. Twice. He couldn’t have heard her right. “Buffy?” She sat sideways on the couch and plunged ahead. “I’ve thought it through. I spent the whole afternoon making up a list of pros and cons.” She pulled a little scrap of napkin from her pocket and shoved it at him. He was too numb to take it. “See? I’m totally serious about this. It’s not a whim. I thought it through, and I want a baby. I talked to Dawn about it, and she’s totally excited by the whole idea. And I talked to Willow and Tara. Oh, and Xander came in at the end too. They all said they’d help out with whatever we need.” Giles stood abruptly. This was not what he had expected from her at all. “You talked to Dawn about this? And Willow and Tara and Xander?” He snorted in annoyance. “I’m so very glad I fit there on your list somewhere. Tell me, is there anyone else you’ve told? Maybe you should go discuss it with Anya before we decide if we’re going to have a baby.” “No, that’s ok. I’m pretty sure Xander’s told Anya by now.” He turned and gave her a look of astonishment, and she frowned at his expression. “You’re mad at me. Ok, maybe I should have talked with you about it first.” “Maybe?” “But-” She stood and crossed her arms, the very picture of determination. “But I wanted to figure out what I wanted before I talked to you. This is what I want. If this is the only shot I’m going to get, then I want a baby now. With you. So now it’s up to you to decide what you want. In the end, this is going to be your decision.” He shook his head and turned away from her, walking to stand next to the archway near the front door. “My decision? Why my decision?” He reached out one hand to lean against the wall. “Because you’re the one who’s going to be there for them when they grow up. I’m the Slayer, Giles. Who knows how long I’ll have...” “Stop it!” he shouted, whipping around to face her. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that.” “I know you don’t,” she shouted back as well, striding over to stand mere inches from his face. “We never talk about it. I want to talk about it, Giles. Right now. We dance around the issue. We pretend like you go patrolling every night with me, because you like my company. The fact is that I’ve died twice already. The next time we won’t be so lucky. The next time, I’m probably going to stay dead.” He dropped his head, and very softly murmured, “There’s Marcus’ spell. We could try that again.” He felt her fingers beneath his chin, tilting it up and forcing his eyes to lift from the ground. “We both know that it was a very close call the last time. The spell might not have worked in time. It might have cost me my soul. The chances that we could try it again… Besides, I’m thinking this time I’d like to be cremated. Avoid that whole body snatching scare.” Giles paled two shades, stumbled back from her. “Buffy, stop it. Stop it right now. No more talk about death and burial. You have years. You have time for children later, when you’re older. There’s always adoption. Dear God, Buffy, you’re only 20. You have college. You’re not ready.” She took his face in her hands, shaking her head. “I don’t have many years, Giles. We both know that. Maybe this isn’t the best timing, but it’s the only timing I’ve got. I’ll get ready. I’ll have nine months to get ready.” She leaned in and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, as if he could keep her safe here in his arms forever. She looked up at him, smiling, and her eyes were shining with sympathy. “I want this. I want a baby with you. With my eyes and your smile. I want it for me. But I also want it for you. The last time I died… Giles, the only thing that kept you going was having to look after Dawn. This time will be a hundred times worse.” “Buffy, stop.” He choked on her name and pushed her away from him. He stepped to the front door and rested his head against the wood. “Please, stop,” he begged. But she didn’t. She kept going. “Giles, I want you to have this after I’m gone. A piece of me, a piece of us. A reminder of how much we loved each other. I think it’ll be easier for you, if you have our child with you. But you have to decide. You have to figure out if you could raise our child without me.” His hand reached for the door handle. “I can’t… I just can’t… Buffy, I can’t listen to anymore.” He opened the door and left. He was driving with no real recollection of getting in the car or turning the key. He was pulling into the parking lot of a local bar without really knowing why he’d gone there. He walked in. The place was a real dive. Dingy and dirty, only the diehard locals came in there. The kind of place where no one bothered you. Which was just fine with him. He ordered bourbon and sat in a dark corner booth. He didn’t drink. He just turned his glass around in circles, watching the ice shift, watching the condensation form circles on the sticky bar table. He didn’t drink; he just thought. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The ice had completely melted, turning his drink all watery. The sun had set, plunging the bar into a darkness that shrouded its neglected appearance. And still he thought. Could he ask Buffy to bring a child into the world, knowing she would never see it grown? And was he ready to raise a child by himself and Dawn as well? Could he be responsible for them both if, no when, he corrected himself bitterly, when he had lost Buffy for good? Twenty-six. He had never told Buffy this, would never tell Buffy this, but twenty-six was the age of the oldest slayer on record. She had lived under the reign of the Roman Emperor Vespasian, over nineteen hundred years ago. And in the end, the longest-lived slayer of all time died not in stopping some apocalypse, or in facing some Master, or in destroying some ascending demon, but was herself slain by a simple, solitary vampire while on a routine patrol. Buffy had outlived perhaps 80 percent or more of her predecessors. She was right. The next time they would not be so lucky. What was that saying again? Ah yes. Third time’s the charm, he thought darkly. Did he want to have her child with him, to fill the space she would leave when she died? Would that be fair to ask of any child? To live, to exist, only because Buffy could not? And would the father of this child cherish her as the living image of her mother, the proof of what they had shared? Or would he hate to even look at the girl and be reminded everyday of everything he had lost? No. He could never hate his own child. He hadn’t even had it in him to hate Dawn. And she had been the reason for Buffy’s death. His slayer had died in her sister’s place, and in the end Giles had been willing to die for her as well. No, if he and Buffy had this child, he would cherish the girl just as he had cherished Dawn: as his last link to his slayer. The girl. He was already thinking of a daughter. Most fathers wanted sons, but he already imagined a daughter. With Buffy’s eyes and smile and golden hair. A daughter he could give the kind of childhood and life that had been so cruelly stolen from Buffy. A daughter. Giles smiled then. He knew what his answer would be. He looked down at the glass in his hand. The bourbon no longer tempted him. He dropped money on the table and exited the bar quickly. He was going home. To Buffy. *** Buffy walked in the front door after patrol. The whole house was dark, and she wondered if Giles and Dawn had gone out. And after she had come home early from patrol to spend time with them and everything. Then she noticed the candlelight shimmering from the dining room and the soft music playing on the stereo. She smiled and stepped closer to the dining table. Beautiful purple orchids filled a vase in the middle of the table. Not roses. Giles never bought roses. Not after Jenny. But the orchids were more lovely than roses, and she touched their velvet petals and leaned closer to inhale their scent. Next to them, six candles burning in a candelabrum. Champagne chilling in an ice bucket. And a small wrapped box with her name on it. He was so sweet. She touched the box reverently. It was “TV wrapped,” as her mother used to call it, so she could simply slip the top off without ripping off the paper. She opened his gift. Baby booties. Tiny, little white baby booties. She pulled them out and held them both in the palm of one hand. My God, did people really start out so small as to fit into them? She sensed his presence with her acute slayer perceptions, sensed him before his arms slid around her waist. She simply leaned back into his embrace and let him hold her for several moments before she asked, “Giles, are you sure?” “I’ve given it a lot of thought, Buffy. If this is what you really want, then I want this for you.” She turned in his arms, wrapped her own around his neck. “And you? Is this what you want?” He leaned forward and kissed her. A long, gentle, tender kiss. When she had opened her eyes again, he nodded his reply. “You’re totally sure? ’Cause this is one of those things you don’t really get to change your mind about later. You ready for a baby?” He laughed and combed his fingers through her hair. “I found myself suddenly responsible for a 14-year-old. I think in some ways, it might be easier to start at the beginning. Besides, like you said, we’ll have nine months to get ready.” Buffy drew away from him slightly and examined the baby booties again. So tiny. She turned and placed them on the kitchen table behind her. Then she took him by the hand and started tugging him up the stairs. “Wait!” he protested. “I had this whole romantic evening planned. There was supposed to be seduction and…” She stopped him with a kiss. “Time’s a wasting. Clock’s going tick-tick-tick. Save the romance for when I’m big and fat and could really use it.” *** They lay on their backs, side by side, panting. “Wow.” Buffy turned her head to the side to look at Giles. “I mean, wow.” Giles turned his head as well, staring into her beautiful blue eyes. “Yes, it is rather more intense without the... umm... the...” “Yeah,” Buffy murmured. “You can say that again.” She paused thoughtfully before she asked, “You think that did it? Or should we try again?” He rolled over to lie on top of her again, his breathing still rapid as he kissed along the soft flesh of her neck. “Better safe than sorry, I suppose.” “Hey,” Buffy protested. “Don’t you need to rest first, or something?” He looked up at her, captured her mouth in a kiss. “What was it you said a little while ago? ‘Time’s a wasting.’ I’m just warming you up. Don’t worry, luv, I’ll catch up.” They made love until sunrise. ***
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