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After Angel and Faith and Dawn, Buffy'd always said they were due a prophecy baby. But then the wound had come, right in her gut, an unsolicited hysterectomy - she'd met his eyes in the hospital as the doctor told her, her expression an odd mixture of amusement that they would always be different and sadness for what they'd somehow lost: guess we've beaten prophecy once more, huh, Spike?
Thing was, now that he was the one in the bed, doctors gabbling all around him as they anticipated his pain to come, her eyes held a similar expression, scared as he was but still feeling the ludicrous: guess we should have known.