I glanced around nervously, waiting for my mother.  I'd called her and asked
her to join me at the coffee house for lunch so we could talk.  I figured I
owed her that much.  Besides, I knew she'd want to know how my *date* went.
. .I guessed I could clue her in on how horrible it was at the end.

I'd called Willow and Tara after I got home and both of them were really
thrilled with the whole Mike situation, but really angry because of what
Spike did to me.  Neither of them could figure it out either.  After that, I
went to bed, my dreams plagued with both of the men that had captured my
interest.  Willow and Tara were there too, as were Buffy and Riley.  They'd
occasionally hold up signs, trying to help me decide if I were gay or not.
Willow and Tara's always said 'Gay!' and Buffy and Riley's always said, 'Not
Gay!'

I woke up just as confused as I was when I went to bed.  I was beginning to
think maybe I needed to go see a counselor or something.  Maybe talking to
someone professional could help me sort out my feelings.

"Alexander?"

I turned slightly in my booth, smiling at my mom.  "Hey, mom."

She smiled, and sat down across from me.  I blinked, taking in the slight
changes in my mother.  She was wearing a nice outfit, and I didn't smell a
drop of liquor on her.  I could see that she was actually *sober*.  "Mom,
what's up?  You aren't. . .well, you aren't. . ."

"Drunk?" she asked, smiling gently.  "No, I had breakfast this morning with
some of the other mothers. . .I didn't want to make a *complete* fool of
myself."

My god.  My mom wasn't drunk.

Maybe this was a good thing.

"So. . ." she grinned.  "How did your date go?  Was he as wonderful as Emma
said he was?"

"Mike?" I asked, smiling.  I sipped my coffee.  "He was great, mom.
Handsome and all that.  We really got along really well.  But. . .mom, you
can't keep trying to find dates for me."

She looked crushed.  "I'm sorry, Alexander, I was only trying to help. . .I
wanted you to know how much I supported you. . ."

"I'm not sure if I'm gay or not, mom."

"But you admit that it could be?" she asked hopefully.

I chuckled.  "Yea, I could be.  So these mothers, what do you do at the
meetings?  Talk about your gay sons and daughters?"

"At first, yea, but now that I've been in the group for a little bit, we've
gotten to the point where we talk about other things."  She reached out and
squeezed my hand.  "I actually have *friends* now, Alexander."

I smiled.  My mom never had many friends, as long as I could remember.
Between the shitty way my dad treated her, and the booze she drank, she didn't
even leave the house all that often.  I was glad she'd found someone to
relate to, someone with common ground.  "I'm happy for you, mom.  It's
always good to have friends."

"So!" she said, leaning forward.  "Did you protect yourself?"

"Huh?" I asked, blinking in mild shock.  "Protect myself from what?"

"Last night. . .you know. . .did you protect yourself?  I don't want you
getting sick."

"Huh?  Oh. . .Oh!"  I blushed.  "Mom, we didn't. . ."

She looked crushed.  "You didn't?  Damn.  I was hoping. . ."

Oh my god, my mom was hoping I'd gotten some.

"We almost kissed though," I informed her.

"Really?" she asked, perking back up.  "Almost?  Why almost?  What happened?
Did you freak?  You freaked out, didn't you?  Do you think you'll ever see
him again, or that it ruined everything?  Emma said he has a great job, so
you don't have to worry about supporting him like that little slut you used
to date. . ."  She held up her hand when I tried to interject.  "I'm sorry,
Alexander, but I never liked her.  Always coming around just to have sex
with you. . .you deserve so much better.  I always thought you and little
Willow Rosenberg would end up together, but now I know why you didn't. . ."

"Mom, Willow has a girlfriend," I smirked.

"*Really*?" she asked.  "She was always so in love with you!"

"Actually, I think she's bi. . .she likes men and women," I nodded.  "But
anyway, this isn't about Willow.  This is about me.  I didn't freak out,
mom.  Spike came up and interrupted us."

"Spike?  Who is Spike?" she frowned.

"Mom, you accosted him in a grocery store.  You know who he is. . .blonde
guy?"

"William!  Oh, right!  He interrupted you?  So he wants you then?"  She
frowned slightly.  "Spike. . .why do they call him. . ."  Her eyes widened.
"Oh my god!  Do you think he's. . .well. . .you know. . .?"

I frowned.  "No, I don't. . .what?"  I *knew* where Spike got his nickname
from, and I didn't think my mother could handle the fact that it was because
that was his weapon of choosing when he killed someone.

"Because he's well-endowed?" she whispered with a slight giggle.

I blinked.  And then I blinked again.  And then I believe my jaw hit the
table.  My *mother* - the very woman that gave birth to me - was wondering
if the name Spike came from the fact that he was well-endowed.  I wanted to
crawl into a hole and die.

I shifted slightly, realizing that the thought of seeing just how well
endowed Spike was got me aroused.  I groaned and covered my face.  "Mom, I
doubt that's where his name came from."

"Have you seen him naked?" she asked haughtily.

"No!  God, of course not!"

"Then you don't know," she said with a nod.  "He could be."  She turned to
the waitress that came to our table and ordered her food.

I weakly gave the waitress my order, suddenly not having much of an appetite
anymore.  Spike infuriated me, and yet I still wanted him.  And my mother
wanted me to have him.  And I *still* had no idea if I were gay or not.

My god, it just never stopped, did it?

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