Buffy's entire body was tingling. And she wanted nothing more than to sink to the floor- and onto her husband, but instead she was standing in front of the Bed and Breakfast's desk clerk, waiting for him to work out a problem, while said husband stared at her with smoldering eyes of intent. It was disconcerting, and alluring, and what the hell was taking this guy so long on the phone!?

She let her eyes slide to Spike's, watching the light in them as he waggled his eyebrows at her. His hand reached out for her, sliding up the outside of her skirt-covered thigh, up over her rump, and along the curve of her waist. Buffy gasped and pulled back when his fingers tickeled the underside of her breast.

'Bad!' she mouthed, and delighted in the deep chuckle that crinkled his face in a melt-worthy smile.

"That's me, baby," he purred, wrapping his arm around her hips and bringing her against his side.

"I like it. Hold that thought," she told him as she brushed her fingers up and down the buttons of his oxford.

"I'm terribly sorry for making you wait. What can I do for you?" the desk clerk apologized as he hung up.

"Honeymoon suite reservation under the name Sheffield?" Buffy said perkily, leaning even more into her husband's side.

The clerk's eyes lit up as he typed something into the computer, "Yes, of course. An older gentleman dropped off your bags earlier, as did the runner from Garden Spot Cafe. Here is your key. If you need anything just call down to the desk, and we'll handle it for you. Enjoy your stay!"

"Oh, we will. Don' worry," Spike smirked as he jangled the keyring and led Buffy towards the staircase.

They quickly located their room, and fumbled their way in between kisses and groping like horny teenagers. Spike kicked the door shut behind him as he backed her to the bed, mouths fused together. Buffy giggled as he fell ontop of her on the soft comforter.

"It's too dark in here," she pouted, blinking in the dimness while Spike nibbled on her jungular.

"Lights on, eh? Kinky," he said fondly, raising his head to look down at her.

"Not kinky. Practical. I want to see the delicious body I just married."

Her hands danced down his chest, plucking at the buttons as they went. Spike stopped her for an instant to pull her blouse over her head, and as soon as he was done she instantly pushed his shirt from his shoulders.

"Oh, so you jus' married me for my body, 's that it?" he pouted, hovering above her, his weight on his hands on either side of her head.

"Something like that," she teased, one hand sliding under his dress slacks to grip his hard erection.

"Christ, Buffy," he gasped as her hand began to caress and fondle him.

"You know what makes me hotter than anything?" she whispered in his ear, using her other hand to pull up her skirt.

"What?" he asked between erractic breaths as she massaged his balls, thumb still playing over his cock. Then suddenly she pulled her hand back to unzip his pants and push them down so his erection was free. Her leg wound around his rear to bring him towards her, positioning the tip of his dick at her entrance.

"We are husband and wife. For eternity, you're mine," she breathed hotly into his ear before bucking her hips and effectively impaling herself on him. They both groaned loudly at the exquisite feelings and sensations.

"Makes you hot, eh?" he leered, hips rocking against hers, "Makes you wet knowin' I am never giving you up, that I am never lettin' you go? Makes your sweet little quim clench in excitement knowing that you are bound to me for the rest of your life?"

She felt glorious, her channel sopping wet and the delicious little mewls that escaped her lips. Spike found that the idea of the words he was whispering in her ear were just as effective on him, too. Always. Forever. He had this girl until the end of his days. His Buffy. His eyes fluttered shut as he buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent, imprinting this moment in his memory. Forever. He thrust a little harder, rewarded with her heady gasp.

Buffy pressed her hands against his rippling back muscles, her plush lips sweeping back and forth on his sweaty shoulder, tongue darting out to taste him. Then suddenly she flipped them, rising above him to admire her prize.

"You are so beautiful," she sighed, leaning forward so her face hovered over his.

"Handsome," he corrected in a groan. Buffy shook her head, letting the sweaty tendrils of blonde hair go in a tizzy.

"No, beautiful."

"Obliteratin' my masculinity here, Buffy-Love."

"Yeah, I can really feel that," she shot back snarkily, swaying her hips from side to side, jerking his rock-hard dick with the movement.

"Right, so you're jus' driving me wild," he admitted with a grin. She winked knowingly, picking up the pace of her movements, racing them both to release.

It wasn't long before they both tensed and then cried out in ecstasy, allowing the waves of uncontrollable pleasure sweep over their bodies. Both gasping for breath and sighing with the warm sated sensation that swelled from their abdomens and stretched through their systems. Buffy collapsed against Spike's chest, revelling in the feeling of their wet bodies twined together above the sheets.

"I love you," he broke the silence with a whisper into her damp hair, kissing her ear through the blonde locks.

"I love you, too," she replied, turning her head so her face was against his neck and shoulder. He smoothed his hands up and down her soft back, fingers playing over her spine as if it were a keyboard. She giggled.

"I'm hungry," she whined softly, wiggling her hips a little to get his attention. The motion caused his soft cock to finally slip from her, "And now I miss you."

Spike chuckled and rolled them over so he was above her, "Don't worry. We'll have another dozen rounds after creme brulee."

"Food," she hummed with satisfaction, "Fetch, husband, fetch."

"Only if you do me a favor," he said seriously, looking down at her and cocking his head as his eyebrow rose.

"Okay..." she drawled suspiciously.

"Finish taking off all your clothes. The skirt bunched around your waist is slightly unattractive," he pointed to her belly. She giggled and squirmed her body as she pushed the skirt off.

"What about you? I think you're supposed to wear pants a little higher on the torso, sweetie," she cooed, kissing his forehead as he looked down at his pants. The waistband was around his thighs, almost to his knees. He rolled off of her and kicked the slacks to the floor.

"Much better," he said with satisfaction, standing and stretching his naked body before heading towards the mini-fridge.

"Yes, indeed," she licked her lips as she watched him prowl around the room in all his glory.

"Bloody hell, there are 6 bowls of creme brulee in here!" Spike exclaimed, pulling out the bowls.

"What? I like creme brulee!" Buffy whined at his disbelief, "Its yummy. Bring it here."

"No way. You only get one. We'll take the rest home and save it for another day," he shook his head as he carried two bowls and two spoons over to the bed.

"Nu-uh, I'm eating my 3 tonight. And if you don't want yours, I'll eat them too," she said defiantly, reaching out to grab her bowl from him.

"It's gonna make you fat, pet," he sighed, patting her head. She gasped in outrage at his words and looked up at him, her mouth hanging open in astonishment.

"How dare you!? Big...ugly...mean guy!" she pouted at him. He chuckled and slid across the bed to sit next to her.

"Jus' trying to make sure my wife stays healthy and fit."

"And skinny and weak so you can dominate me!" she accused, "Well guess what I have to say to that?"

She glared at him for a moment and then abruptly dug her spoon into her delicious desert and shoveled half of it into her mouth with one bite.

"MMMMmmmmmmm..." she moaned, licking her lips as she savored the custard with her tongue.

Spike stared at her with astonishment, then grabbed her bowl from her hands and put both on the nightstand.

"Little hussy," he called her with a smirk, pushing her down against the pillows, "I'm gonna have to get some of that back."

And with that he plundered her mouth with his tongue, stealing back some of the desert.

"Hey!" she cried in mock-outrage as he pulled away, but her anger was betrayed by the giggle that overtook her. Spike laughed and flipped her over top of him.

"Spikey...paybacks a bitch," she said in a sing-song voice before grabbing the pillow that was under his head and yanking it out so his head fell to the mattress. Then she promptly hit his face with the soft down cushion.

"Now you're on my turf, kitten. I am the master at pillow fights," he boasted, grabbing the other pillow and hitting her across the shoulder.

The creme brulee was forgotten as the pillows began to fly and laughter rang out between them. Some things never changed.

Buffy hated planes. Absolutely couldn't stand them. She felt like people had no business to be up in the sky like a bird. God gave them wings, He didn't give humans any. She hated the pressurized cabin, the dry sterile air, the way the windows rattled when there was turbulence. If claustrophobia included hatred for being stuck in a small metal tube that would probably break if she stomped her foot hard enough, then she had claustrophobia.

Giles was sitting behind her with Jenny, the two of them perfectly at ease with the situation. Talking and laughing and having polite conversation with the woman sitting next to them, as well as the annoyingly attractive flight attendants. Spike sat to Buffy's left, in the middle seat, snoozing away with his earphones on. And Nicholas was bouncing around in the window seat, alternating between pressing his nose against the Plexiglas to look down at America, or crawling down on the floor to put his ear against the carpet, listening for Scout's bark.

The plane passed through a cloud, causing everything to vibrate and shake and lunge. Buffy gripped the arms of the chair, Spike shifted his position, and Nicholas put his hands up and shouted "Woo-hoo!", causing her to jump.

"Nicholas Sheffield, do not shout like that on an airplane!" she hissed, turning her head to glare at him, but not loosening her grip.

Nicholas looked at her with wide, innocent eyes, "Sorry! It was fun! Like a Hershey Park ride!"

"Well, its NOT a Hershey Park ride, young man. Its a big machine in the middle of the air and extremely dangerous!" she snapped. Spike stirred next to her and tugged off his earphones.

"Buffy, its his first time on an airplane, love. Let him be," he said gently, rapidly blinking in the sunshine filled cabin.

"Yeah, Mom, its my first time! Let me be," Nicholas repeated with a big defensive smile. He turned and planted his face against the window again. Spike looked over at his wife, noting her pale face, gripping white knuckles, and nervous swallowing.

"Don't like planes, eh?" he smirked, adjusting his position to lean against her.

"You know I don't like planes," she said shortly, holding the chair arms tighter when the plane lurched again.

"Buffy....relax," he cooed softly, reaching over and prying her fingers off the metal to hold her hand in between his. She squeezed his hand with iron strength.

"I can't. Too much turbulence," she protested. Spike raise one of his hands to her face, smoothing down along her jaw to turn her head towards him.

"It's right as rain, Love. The pilot knows what he's doing. Come 'ere," he whispered, his fingers twining through her hair as he cupped the back of her neck.

He pressed his lips against hers insistently, coaxing her to pay attention to him and not the quivering machine they were in. It worked. Soon her tongue was winding around his, skimming along his teeth, and sucking at his lips. Finally they both pulled away to gasp for breath.

"Our flight back from California is a redeye. We should try to join the Mile High Club then, pet," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. She giggled.

"No way, Mister. Not with Giles, Jenny, and our SON with us. Besides, flight attendants are really strict at night. They'll catch us," she argued with a grin between light kisses along his jaw.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" he demanded playfully as he ran his hand up her arms to play with the collar of her jacket.

"Well, if you put it that way...." she drawled, giving him a lingering kiss on his pouty lips, "But not with Nicholas around. You and I will just have to go away some other time and try it then."

"Promise?" he asked hopefully, looking into her huge glimmering hazel eyes.

"Definitely," she nodded, and leaned into kiss him again to keep her fear of planes at bay.

The car ride to Sunnydale was more chaotic then the packing process, plane trip, and LAX traffic combined. Spike drove erratically, blaming it on the "kooshy, suburban soccermom design" of the minivan. Buffy sat in the passenger seat, shouting each time he did something she didn't approve of, and arguing with him over what was the shortest route to Joyce's home, and what music station to listen to. Giles and Jenny were having a heated discussion over whether to accept Joyce's invitation to stay at her home, or stay at a hotel. Giles felt it would be imposing since he had never met Buffy's mother, and Jenny argued animatedly about when people issue such kind invitations, you accept them. And Scout and Nicholas's dog-boy-speak babble only filled the minivans space to its extent.

In short, Joyce heard them all arrive the moment they pulled up, and was waiting on the front porch with a big smile, and open arms.

And her smile was contagious. Nicholas gave her a big hug and introduced her to Scout with pride. Giles succumbed to Jenny's wishes, and blushed as he told Joyce they would be staying at the house. Buffy admitted sulkingly that Spike's way HAD been faster, and then he kissed her pout right off her face before she even had a chance to greet her mother.

And it was okay by Joyce. She beamed with happiness as she watched Spike push Buffy against the side of the minivan, their lips sealed together, and arms holding each other tightly. Joyce was holding her grandson's hand, giving a tour to him and Buffy's friends, and her daughter was finally in the arms and life that she deserved.

Life was good.

"No, no, no!! Don't staple the crepe paper to the wall, tape it!!" Joyce shouted over the chaos that was the Engagement/Marriage party preparations. Spike tossed the stapler onto the couch while remaining perched on the step ladder, holding up the end of a pale yellow streamer. Nicholas held the roll that the streamer lead to on the other side of the room, watching his grandmother become more and more agitated.

"Don't tape it! Tape is ugly, use sticky tack," Jenny suggested, tying a bunch of balloons together and letting them float to the ceiling. Giles was bent over the helium tank, carefully filling each one to the perfect amount.

"I don't have any sticky tack," Joyce said with a frown, bustling to grab tape in the desk drawer. Buffy entered from outside, balancing two huge trays of party snacks.

"I got the snacks!" she announced with fanfare, setting them on the coffee table while Scout nipped at her feet, barking playfully.

"Could someone PLEASE get me the tape so I don't have to sit up here like a bloody pigeon with this streamer?"

"Hold on a second!"

"Nicholas, hunny, don't let too much out. And did you feed Scout?"

"Eighteen balloons is quite enough, right?"

"Why are we doing the decoratin' and food fetchin' anyway? This is a party bein' thrown for us!"

"We're helping my mom, Spike!"

"If you're gonna use tape, make sure you roll it so you can't see it. Sticky tack is so much better."

"Oh dear, I think I left the tape up in my office."

"Lick it! If you lick the crepe paper and stick it to the wall it works, see? Scout just licked this piece and its sticking to the floor."

"Our kid's got such a good head on his shoulders."

"Don't you dare lick it, Spike."

"Look, if you suck in the helium you can make your voice sound funny."

"Jenny, darling, don't teach Nicholas that. He's impressionable."

"I found the tape!"

"Hand it to me please, mum,"

"Hmm...that might be too many balloons."

"Nicholas!! Look at this mess! And what are you sucking on?

"It's so good Wes and Fred didn't come along. This would have been a nightmare."

"As if it isn't already?"

*Ding-Dong*

And that's how the first guests, Willow and Oz, found them. Spike was still balanced on the footstool, trying to roll tape to stick a delicate string of crepe paper to the wall, while the other end lay in a tattered and wet mess on the floor, being licked by a playful Rottweiler puppy. Nicholas sat next to the animal, taking deep breaths from an opened helium balloon, and giggling as he spoke to Jenny. Giles was counting balloons, Joyce fumbling around the coffee table, and Buffy staring in shock at the mess Scout and her son had made.

"Guess the party's already started?" Willow said with a giggle.

"Oh my gosh, Will! Hey again! It's so great to see you again so soon!" Buffy exclaimed, forgetting her anger when she saw her best friend again. The two women hugged as they shrieked, which caused the puppy to begin barking. Oz's eyebrows arched with stoic amusment.

"Even the dog has the party spirit," he mused. Buffy pulled away from Willow and threw her arms around Oz's neck.

"I barely know you, but you make Willow happy, and you're almost apart of our little family, so hey!" she said as she squeezed him. He gently closed his arms around her too.

"Hey!" he said with a smile as she released him.

"Red, you look more lovely than ever," Spike smiled warmly as he walked over to greet his redheaded friend. She giggled as she pulled him into an enthusiastic hug.

"I've missed you over this last month!" she said, giving him a peck on his cheek.

"Sorry, 've been otherwise occupied."

"I'm glad," she gushed, eyes darting back and forth between his and Buffy's happy faces. He winked at her, and then turned to shake Oz's hand.

"Congratulations, man," Oz said with an encouraging nod.

"Thanks," Spike replied, smiling over at his beaming wife.

"Well, well, well, the studmuffin's finally got his ball and chain," an obnoxious, but always energetic voice came from the doorway.

"Faith!" Buffy shouted, skipping over like a child to give her cousin a hug.

"Hey, B! It's good to see ya!" she laughed, squeezing as hard as Buffy. Angel stepped through the door behind them.

"I must have fallen asleep.." he said in a jokingly awed voice, gazing at the two gorgeous females holding each other.

"Wanna add a redhead to the mix?" Spike teased, grabbing Willow's slender elbow.

"Hey now, children present," Willow scolded with a laugh. Nicholas had wandered into the foyer doorway, and stood watching them with wide eyes.

"Oh yeah, the kid!" Faith gasped, pulling away from Buffy to look down at the 8 year old boy, "Heya Nick, my names Faith."

He took her outstretched hand and shook it politely, "Don't call me 'Nick'."

Faith laughed, her ruby red lips splitting open in an impressed smile, "Oh yeah, he's definitely your guys' kid."

"Everybody keeps saying that," Buffy said with a frown, "like its a bad thing or something!"

"No, no. Just means he's got both of your extreme characters all rolled up in one," Willow assured her friend.

"He's definitely a cutie-patootie though," Faith complimented, winking at Nicholas.

"Hey little man, I'm Angel. Soon-to-be husband of Faith," Angel introduced himself, mussying the boys hair. "Is that you're rottweiler I see in there?"

Nicholas's face lit up, "Yeah, that's Scout. Wanna meet her?"

Spike and Oz walked to the kitchen to grab beers as Faith, Willow, and Buffy watched Angel and Nicholas bound off to play with Scout in the living room.

"Uh-oh, Faith. Kid's on the horizon?" Buffy teased her cousin, noting how well Angel got along with the 8 year old.

"Maybe." She surprised them both with her serious answer.

"Wow, really?" Willow asked, looking over at the brunette whom she had never really gotten along with well.

"Yeah. I love Angel. I wanna have his little brats. You ready to be an aunt?" she turned to gaze steadily at Willow. She nodded.

"Definitely. And a mother."

"Wills! That is so great!" Buffy squealed, putting her arms around both of them, "You guys will both be terrific mothers!"

Just then the front door swung open again, and in came the SuperMom of the group. Anya fumbled with the door while holding baby Janice in her arms and a diaper bag, as 7 year old Dawn trailed behind with Xander.

"Buffy! Glad to see you again. It's been a long time. I haven't really noticed your absence too much, as I've been busy having a family, but it is definitely pleasant being with you again!" Anya greeted her old friend, giving her a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"I see you've been busy," Buffy laughed, looking at Anya's two beautiful daughters. Xander's face glowed happily as he walked toward his friend he hadn't seen for years.

"Oh god, Buffster, its so awesome to see you again. You've been missed!" he wrapped her up in a bear hug, savoring her giggles, "Where's this little boy of yours? I want Dawn to meet him." he asked her as he pulled away, nudging her and winking.

"No way are we going to betroth our children," she protested with a grin, "and he's right over there with Angel."

And one by one they made their way into the living room, introductions and hugs happening over and over and punctuated with laughter.

Spike tapped a spoon loudly against the neck of his beer bottle to get the attention of the people gathered around. They eventually got quiet and looked at him with expectant smiles on their faces.

"I'd like to thank everbody for coming today. 's been bloody incredible catchin' up with all you. Everybody's gettin' married, and havin' kids, and I'm so thankful that me an' Buffy can be apart of that now. We ARE sorry that we got married without anybody around, but it's the celebration that counts. So here we are, celebratin' my marriage to Buffy, Faith and the Poofter's engagement," Spike grinned wickedly as people hooted at his nickname for Angel, "Red and Oz's engagement, an' also BlackCharis's new record deal with Sony!"

Everybody clapped and urged Oz and Tara to stand up to recieve the applause. Tara's face flushed bright red and she gave Spike a look that could kill, but also screamed of thanks. He held up his hands to quiet everybody down again.

"In closin', I'd just like to say that you guys- Joyce, Faith, Angel, Giles, Jenny, Tara, Willow, Oz, Anya, Xander, an' your kids, are the best friends and family a bloke an' his wife and son could have."

A chorus of 'awww's from the women, and grunts of appreciation and teasing came from the men.

"You've turned soft!" Xander shouted out, while Angel gave Spike a hug, thumping him on the back.

"Watch it, Harris. I can still beat your ass at pool," Spike warned, pointing menacingly at his friend.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Xander said with a wave of his hand, "Whatever you say, mate."

Voices began talking over each other again, and the dog started barking, and everybody just relished and recognized the chaos as home.

Twenty-five minutes later, the five adults were still involved in a serious financial conversation, documents and folders spread out on the coffee table between them as they sat in the parlor. Nicholas had gone up to his room with Scout, closing the door to shield himself from their steadily angrier and louder voices.

"And you didn't even NOTICE the loophole, pet?" Spike asked for the umpteenth time, shoving an angry hand through his hair and rubbing the back of his neck.

"No! I mean, this doesn't make any sense, this part about 'future commitments'. How was I supposed to know he meant marriage?" Buffy said with annoyance, picking up the contract and then tossing it back down to the table with disgust.

"Why'd you even sign a damn contract anyway?" her husband asked, looking over at her.

"It was necessary for the purchase of the restaurant, Rustic Bend," Holden informed him. Spike glared at the lawyer.

"You do know how illegal this is, right? This contract is only the tip of the iceberg. There's a whole blackmail issue going on with-"

"Spike!" Buffy shouted at the same time Lindsey spoke:

"We are not here to discuss Mr. Penn's or your wife's personal life. We are merely here to settle a new agreement. Mr. Penn is quite distraught over the problems your new lifestyle causes for him."

"Distraught? He gets my life on a platter. Lifestyle is a lot like personal life, Mr. MacDonald," Buffy shot back, "I fell in love, I got married. My arrangement with Penn is still on...for now. He doesn't need to....get involved. I'm still part of are agreement. Full participant." She cast a look at Spike.

"But I promised I'd take care of it," he responded at her look.

"That is not our business either. The bottom line is- the half of Rustic Bend that belonged to you, now belongs to Mr. Penn due to your violation of your financial contract, signed by yourself, Christopher A. Penn, Rupert Giles, Quinton Travers, and my associate Holden Webster."

"But you are here to work this out? So does that mean I can get my half back?"

"No, that is not possible. What we need to settle is how much of your funds will be obtained by Mr. Penn."

"Fuckin' loophole," Spike muttered under his breath, "Tha's your punishment for doin' something Penn didn't want."

Buffy stood up and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Tell him to take all of it. But if he does, I don't want to hear from him again. No more of these drive-by's. You DO know what I'm talking about, don't you?" her hazel eyes sparked at all three of them.
"We are aware," Lindsey had the decency to duck his head as he spoke.

"So you tell the bastard, that if he so much as thinks about me from this day on, I will hire the best goddamn lawyers in this country, and take down him... and Wolfram and Hart."

Gavin nodded and pulled a delicate gold pen from his pocket, while Holden reached in his briefcase and presented her with a document. She accepted both and sat next to Spike, letting him read the new contract over his shoulder.

"Buffy, don't sign it. He's taking you for everything your worth," Spike said after they had finished perusing it. She turned her head to look at him, placing a reassuring hand on his knee and squeezing.

"Spike, if I sign this, he won't be apart of my life anymore. I am desperate to have you and Nicholas as the only men in my life," she said, her eyes still vibrant with anger.

Spike nodded and watched grimly as she signed on the line, her delicate looping signature shimmering. Next Spike signed, heaving a sigh as he slid it across the table so the three attorneys could sign.

Five minutes later, they were gone.

"It's all gone," Spike was the first to speak, his voice tight.

"The son of a bitch. I really didn't give him enough credit," Buffy hissed, pacing the room.

"No, you didn't," he agreed, "But you were young."

"But I'm NOT young anymore. And he had to beat me just when everything was good. And I hate him!! And....I don't want to stay here anymore."

Spike looked up at her in surprise, "What?"

"Let's go back to California, Spike. There's no reason to stay here in Philly," she pleaded, plopping down on the couch next to him and grabbing his hands, "I mean, you already work for Revamp Designs. And I can find something to do. And sure, I'll miss Wes, Giles, Jenny, Lilah, and Fred, but they can always come out to visit," her plead turned into an adorable pout, "I want our son to grow up in Sunnydale. And the rest of our kids too."

A smile had steadily been growing on Spike's face as she spoke.

"You serious?" he asked, releasing her hand so he could run his fingers over her cheek and jaw.

"Absolutely."

"The rest of our kids?"

Buffy's mouth curved into a shining grin, "You noticed that, huh?"

He nodded and leaned forward to kiss her beautiful lips.

"Alright, baby, pack your bags, we're running away together."

Life happened. Problems of Philly's past faded away. Life moved on. To Sunnydale again, to pick up where it left off. Life grew and grew until it was so full that Buffy could only sit back and enjoy the delicious, hectic motion of it all.

Nicholas was almost 14, going to school with Dawn at Sunnydale Junior High, protesting all the while that he didn't have a crush on the tall, blue-eyed, long brunette haired family friend. The two bickered endlessly, which only amused and convinced the adults further that they were meant to be.

Child Number Two, Cassie, was four, and got every ounce of her personality and looks from Spike. A complete handful, with a snarky sense of humor, who had adopted her father's accent as well. Despite her streaks of mischief, disobedience, and rebellious tendencies, she was a genuine girl who truly loved her family, and charmed Buffy to no end.

Child Number Three was a quiet little baby boy who reminded Buffy of her late mother, who had died a few days before he was born. He was named Joseph, in honor of Joyce, and had been the most delightful infant a person could have. He was now two, and as quiet as a church mouse, and a joy to have around.

The others had their own full families of rambunctious children as well. Today was their barbecue at Rustic Bend Too in Sunnydale, which they had closed for the day to celebrate Buffy and Spike's 5th Anniversary, and Faith and Angel's son Connor's 3rd birthday.

The children were running around causing a ruckus with a fully grown Scout (who wasn't technically allowed in the resteraunt) and helium balloons that Jenny insisted on bringing (only so she could open them up and make all the kids talk in silly voices). Giles had brought Jenny, Fred, Wesley, and Lilah out for the occasion, who really couldn't have been kept away from their California side of the family, ever since they had met them 4 years ago. The adults were all milling around, exchanging inside jokes, hugs, and joking insults that kept getting worse and worse until Buffy was thankful that the children were distracted by their own games.

Buffy watched Spike talking animatedly to the guys over in the pool room of Rustic Bend Too, his words often jumbled in his constant laughter. As if he knew he was in her gaze, he turned to stare at her, his eyes bright blue and happy.

The same eyes that told her they could only be friends.

The same eyes that pleaded her to be more than friends.

The same eyes that were fixed so surely on hers as he repeated his vows.

The same eyes that filled with tears when she told him she was pregnant with their second child.

And sure, the same eyes that snapped with anger when they fought and shouted at each other, but that were always full of apologies when he admitted he was wrong (even if he wasn't).

So full of love, their lives were the perfect blend of friendship, laughs, tears, and support.

Buffy smiled at him, winked, and then closed her eyes, letting the wonderful noise of her life wash over her, like a blanket of perfect, colorful threads. Each different, each special, each part of the huge chaotic family.

Together forever.
 

THE END