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Buffy wondered if waking up with the sound of Spike's heart thumping in his chest would ever seem commonplace. She'd stayed awake for hours before, just listening to it beat. She could feel his breath stirring her hair, and the knowledge that it was needed breath and not merely an echo of the man he'd once been made her happier than she ever would've imagined it could.

She knew without a doubt that she'd still love Spike if he were still been a vampire. She'd told Angel as much when he'd asked her if her choice would've been the same had the Shanshu Prophecy not been about Spike, and she'd meant it. But getting to have a real life with the man she loved, to get to start a family with him, made everything all the more wonderful.

And that family-in-progress made its presence known with a sharp turn of Buffy's stomach. She put her hand over her mouth and ran to the bathroom.

When Buffy came out again, Spike was waiting for her, glass of ginger ale in hand. Buffy took it from him with a small, grateful smile. "You're so wonderful."

"I try."

Buffy sat down on the couch, taking small sips of her drink. "This better be one damn good kid, 'cause this part sucks."

Spike sat beside her, frowning at the sight of the dark circles under her eyes. "Why don't you go back to bed, sweetheart," he said, rubbing gentle circles against her back.

"Can't. I have meetings all morning."

Spike frowned. "Buffy, I know we agreed to come back here to help train the new Slayers, but that was before we knew you were pregnant. Maybe you should take a little time off, at least until the baby is born."

"I took enough time off, Spike. These girls need me. So many of them have died already."

"Not your fault, pet."

"I don't know, Spike. After what happened in Sunnydale, I just abandoned them, and maybe if I hadn't…" Buffy trailed off as she began to cry.

Spike took the glass of ginger ale from her hands and set it down before pulling her against his chest. "Shh. Don't cry, sweetling. You didn't abandon anyone. You took some well-deserved time off after seven years of guarding the Hellmouth. Nothing to be ashamed of. And they were Slayers, luv. Most tend to die young—and stay that way."

"But I didn't. I could've taught…"

Spike nudged her chin up gently, looking into her eyes, "What you are, Buffy, that strength inside you—it can't be taught. You're unique. Even with the hundreds of Slayers around now, you're still the One."

Buffy took a deep, shuddering breath, wiping her eyes. "You and your sweet talk…" She gave him a watery smile. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Spike replied, kissing the top of her head.

"Okay, I have got to stop being all crazy hormone girl now," Buffy said, sitting up. "Do you have anything you have to do today?"

"Not until tonight. I'm taking a few of the girls on a supervised patrol."

"All right. I'll come home after my morning meetings, because we really need to make a decision about the catering."

Spike refrained from telling her he didn't particularly care what the caterer brought, remembering how well that had gone the day before. "All right. We can have a nice, long discussion about it, and I promise to disagree with everything you say."

Buffy gave him a playful swat. "Jerk."

Spike leaned closer. "Going to have to disagree with that, too."

"Figured you would," Buffy replied, meeting him for a kiss.

*** *** ***

"It seemed to me like the whole thing was just a pathetic attempt to make one of the worst managerial attempts in the history of music look like a success. Besides, I could've gone my entire life without seeing that much of Malcolm McLaren."

Buffy froze in the entryway of the apartment, Emma's voice hitting her as soon as she walked through the door. She looked at where the other Slayer was sitting cross-legged on her couch, facing Spike.

Buffy cleared her throat and Spike turned quickly. "Hey, pet."

"What is she doing here?" Buffy asked, pointing at Emma.

Emma got to her feet. "And that would be my cue to leave."

"No," Spike said quickly as he stood as well. "Buffy, Emma just came over here to let me know she and Dawn were getting along."

Buffy crossed her arms in front of her. "Looks more like she's getting along with you."

Spike sucked in a breath. "Buffy, stop being so bloody ridiculous! We were talking—that's it. I don't go off every time I see you talking to some other guy."

"You never liked Xander."

Spike paused for a moment before replying with, "That's 'cause he's a git, not because I don't want you having any male friends."

"You can have female friends," Buffy said. "Just not her."

"Really, I'm just going to go," Emma said. "I'll see you later…" She caught the glare Buffy shot her. "Or not."

"Emma…" Spike called after the girl, but she didn't stop. He turned his gaze back on Buffy. "I'm sorry you're feeling bad, pet. I really am. And if you want to take it out on me, fine. Yell, scream, punch me in the sodding nose again. But don't take it out of her. She hasn't done anything. A month ago, she had to leave behind everything she knew. She's alone and painfully homesick. Cut the girl some slack."

"I took a look at her record, Spike. She's been here for a month, and she's already gone through three roommates and scared off a Watcher. She's caused nothing but trouble ever since she showed up."

Spike shut his eyes, his head turned slightly, the gesture one Buffy knew meant he was trying to control his temper. When he looked at her again, his eyes made it clear that the reign he had on it was far from tight. "Your record wasn't exactly spotless at her age either, Summers."

"Why are you defending her like this? You know I don't like you seeing her."

"I'm not…" Spike stopped, his jaw ticking. "It's because you're being a right bitch about her. If you want to be jealous, go right ahead. But don't treat that girl the way you just did ever again." He walked past Buffy on his way to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," Spike replied, not looking back. "Tell the caterer to go with the chicken."

Buffy shook as the door slammed.

*** *** ***

Spike knew in front of Emma's door was probably the last place he should be standing, but at the moment, he really didn't care. He loved Buffy more than anything in the world, but he wasn't going to tolerate this. Despite what Buffy had gotten into her head, Spike knew Emma was a decent girl, and he seriously doubted she was interested in anything from him beyond friendship.

He'd been around long enough to know when a woman was interested, and he was getting none of the usual signs from her.

Emma was wiping her eyes when she answered the door, and Spike could tell she'd been crying though she was most likely trying to fight it. "You shouldn't be here," she said.

"Yeah, I know. But I wanted to check in on you."

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

Emma sniffed. "That's because I'm really not. But I've already got you in enough trouble with Buffy, so you should just go."

"Things between Buffy and me have been worse than this in the past, believe me. And it isn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Please," Emma replied with a snort. "I'm always doing something wrong."

"You're not here," Spike assured her. "Buffy's just…Buffy's gone insane. She's not normally like this. She's been jealous before, but that was all of once." He added with a shrug, "And we were broken up at the time, so I did that on purpose anyway."

Emma chuckled lightly, then sobered. "So it's just me she hates."

"No. Like I said, Buffy's not being herself. We've only been here for a couple of weeks, and she's adjusting. Plus the crazy-making hormones."

"I still feel bad that she hates me so much," Emma said softly. "I wanted to be good at this. My life has been one fuck up after another. And then when that Giles guy came and told me I was a Slayer and what that meant, I thought maybe that was why nothing had worked before. Maybe my life couldn't go right because I was meant to be doing something else, meant to be someone else. But then I came here, and I can't get along with anyone, and I'm just as much of a wreck as I've always been."

"Hey now. You're not a wreck. You've had to make a huge adjustment in your life. And you can be a good Slayer, Emma. I can see it in you."

Emma shook her head. "I really don't think so."

"Trust me. I've known a few Slayers in my day." Spike cocked his head to the side, thinking for a moment. "You up for a spar?"

Emma's eyes widened. "With you? But you train the girls with a lot more experience than me. I've only been on one group patrol, and when I fought with the vampire, I missed the heart, and he knocked me on my ass."

"Don't worry about that. Same thing happened to Buffy her first time out."

Emma eyed him suspiciously. "Really?"

"Yeah. Takes a bit of practice, ducks, but you'll get the hang of it."

"Or end up with my throat ripped out," Emma muttered.

"Don't talk like that. You just need more practice is all. This Slayer stuff, it'll come naturally to you as soon as you let it."

"I don't know…"

Spike smiled at her. "Well, I do. Come on, change into something you don't mind getting sweaty in, and I'll give you some private training."

"I'm not sure if I should…"

"You need the practice, and to be honest, I could use the work out."

Emma decided he was right. "Okay. Just give me a few minutes."

*** *** ***

Buffy had spent most of the time since Spike had left the apartment feeling horrible. He was probably right. She knew the idea of him cheating on her was ludicrous. After everything they'd been through together, why would Spike throw it all away to be with some other woman? He wouldn't—no matter how attractive that other woman was.

And now that she was thinking about it rationally, Buffy realized Emma really hadn't seemed to be flirting with Spike. She'd probably judged the girl too harshly, going all crazy-pregnant-lady.

It hurt to fight this way with Spike, especially now. She had been rude to Emma, and Spike, too, in the process. She needed to find him and patch things up.

Knowing Spike, Buffy figured he'd probably gone down to the training rooms. It was a good place for him to work off his aggression. She made her way over there, stopping at the front desk. "Hey, Kim," she said to the girl sitting there. "Is Spike down here?"

Kim looked up. "Yeah. He's giving a lesson. Training room five."

"Thanks," Buffy said, walking past the desk. She frowned slightly. Spike hadn't said anything about giving lessons today, only supervising a patrol after dark.

She stopped short outside the training room, her blood running cold as she saw inside through the window.

Spike was sparring with Emma—and from the looks of it, having quite a good time.

Buffy turned around and ran, tears in her eyes.

*** *** ***

"Buffy, kitten, are you home?" Spike waited a moment, frowning when she didn't answer. He knew she was there. Her scent was too strong for it to be otherwise. He went to their bedroom, stopping short when he saw her. "Buffy, what are you doing?"

"I'm packing your things," Buffy said, shoving a black t-shirt into a bag.

"And why are you doing that?" Spike asked, staring at her with a mix of shock and confusion.

"Because you're moving out," Buffy said tersely.

Spike took a step backwards. "Sweetheart…"

"I saw you with her earlier," Buffy said, not turning around to look at him.

"Buffy, there's nothing you could've seen that would warrant throwing me out."

"You were sparring with her," Buffy replied as she moved on to packing his jeans.

"Yeah, I was," Spike said. "What of it?"

"Do you have any idea what it felt like to see you fighting with another woman?"

Under any other circumstance, Spike would've found that at least a bit funny. Getting angry over your fiancé fighting with another woman… He was pretty sure only Buffy would be capable of such a thing. But the humor was lost on him as he watched her preparing to throw him out of their home. "That's my job, remember?"

Buffy spun around, her eyes flashing with anger. "She wasn't just another Slayer, Spike. And this was not a scheduled training session."

"You're being ridiculous. You're out of sorts and not thinking clearly."

"Don't try to pin this all on my hormones," Buffy snapped. "You were the one sparring with her."

"Bloody hell, woman! I was training her, the same way I would any of the junior slayers."

"I know how you can get when you spar, Spike," Buffy said, her eyes narrowing.

"No, you know how I get when I spar with you. It's being with you like that that gets me hot, Buffy. The way you move…how passionate you are…"

"She looked like she had quite a few moves herself," Buffy snapped in response.

Spike walked over to the bag she'd been packing, zipped it up, and grabbed it from the bed. "You know, if this is how little you trust me, maybe you're right about me needing to leave."

"Good. I don't want you here."

Spike turned around and walked out.

*** *** ***

Yep. I'm a mean, evil person leaving it there. But please, put away the voodoo dolls… *wink*

Thanks to everyone who's been reading this fic, and keep that feedback coming!

Trivia question for the day: Does anyone know what specifically Emma is referencing at the beginning of the second scene?

If you'd like to see a banner for this fic (including a picture of Emma) go here: http://www.dark-desire.org/blood/images/graphics/wtdb.jpg





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