Title: New Soul (Chapter Five of Meant to Be)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

Summary: Spike muses on life with his family. The Queen and King of the Sky discuss the new soul to be sent to the One. Meanwhile, the Evil Ones discover what is going on up above and just might catch a break from the Powers that Be. Emma and Will shock their father with news of their own.

New Soul

Spike woke up slowly. The kids weren't back yet and the house was silent, even to his sensitive ears. It was peaceful. Calm. Beautiful.

The morning sun spilled in the window, lighting her in pale yellow and rose, like a goddess. She slept soundly, her body curled against his and her head resting on his shoulder.

She was a goddess. A Chosen One. A Saviour. But to him, she was more. More than any prophesy or any lifetime or any one *thing*. She was all, and his and love and life and perfection. Even when her hair was a mess and she was covered in demon goo. She was his One True Love.

Slowly, he rolled on his side to look at her. Sweet, soft smile on her pouty lips. His hands traced the contours of her body. Remembering it. Feeling the softness of the skin of her shoulders, her arms. How could something so small and soft be so strong and powerful? Didn't matter, he thought, smiling himself. She was. She was his and she was wonderful.

His gentle touches slid down her chest. Her ribs. Resting on her stomach. She sighed gently and scooted in closer to him, kissing his chest in her sleep. Something inside of him that he hadn't realized was empty, filled with joy. He had given her what she wanted, despite the odds. Spike knew that, even if there was no way to know. He'd been given what *he* wanted as well. Her happiness. Another child. Theirs. A piece of him mingling with a piece of her to create a being that would be all of them. And would carry on their legacy, their great love, even when the One was no more.

The thought was overwhelming. Even now. Even having been through it twice already. It was still utterly amazing to him that she would have him, never mind love him, or want to bear his children. The Victorian poet, that was now his son, rose inside of him, nearly weeping at the perfection of it all. The way his life had gone from beast to beauty.

Nothing could destroy this. Nothing.

~~~~~~

The Queen propped her head against the enormous, white pillows. Well, to her they were pillows, although anyone else might have seen clouds.

Her King lay next to her, softly touching her golden skin. Adoring her every inch as she lay on silken sheets in the early morning sun. Even as Queen of the Sky, goddess of the Heavens, she had no idea how beautiful she was. No idea how perfect. It seemed that it was not only the mortal world that could sometimes ignore that which was part of them. Even the gods were sometimes oblivious.

"What is on your mind, my Queen?" The king asked, shifting until they lay face to face on the pillows.

She smiled, placing her palm against his cheek. "The seed has been sown for the next child of the One," she began, watching his blue eyes glisten in the sunlight. "I am just wondering if I did the right thing."

"You are a goddess, my love. There is no wrong. There is only your word," he answered, trying to brush the worry from her face with gentle hands.

"I do not always feel as confident as you, dearest. I just worry that there is something.." She stopped, biting her lip as she thought. "Something that I am missing."

The King sighed, pressing his lips to her forehead. "My sweet, even if there is, I've no doubt that between our child and the One, they can overcome whatever harm that may come. We have waited for thousands of years for the time to be right, for the Slayer and Vampire to unite and for Peace to be born. Their destinies will be challenged, but I trust them to overcome. Do not fret, my love."

The Queen smiled, returning the kiss to her mate. "You were a worthy choice in companion," she said softly. "A good King. A perfect love."

"Only to you, my Queen. To all else, I am half of a god. A bastard mortal," he answered, looking away.

Slowly, the Queen raised his chin with her hand. "Do not ever say that in my presence. You are a god. My choice in ruler of the sky at my side. It matters not that you were born of goddess and man. You've earned your place at my side."

The King sighed. "But my mortal father."

"Is a wonderful man and one of our best emissaries. He's been granted immortality for his service to the court. Never begrudge him," the Queen snapped, pulling him closer to her even in her anger. The King relented, falling against her bosom and breathing deeply as she stroked his hair. "Now," the Queen began again. "On to better subjects. Who do you think we should send to the One as their newest soul?"

The King traced circles on his Queen's golden skin and thought. "We could allow the Fates to choose this time."

The Queen chuckled in response. "Cirrus, those women have enough control over the One as it stands. Let us at least choose one for them!"

He laughed at her indignation. "All right then, what are you thinking?"

Silence fell as she thought. "There are so many that they have lost and we have the power to return. But I think there is only one whose absence pierces both of their hearts."

"And who is that, my love?" The King asked as he kissed her soft cheek.

"Her mother."

~~~~~~~

The sound of the door swinging open and slamming shut awoke him from his near slumber. The man wrapping him in sheets of pale green kept upon his task as if nothing had happened. As if there was never the boom of the heavy red door, never the click of heels on the tile followed by the heavy tap of men's shoes. Never the sudden horrid, dry cough piercing the incensed air.

"Lucifer?" The deep, eternally angry, voice boomed.

Luke turned his head from the table on which he was stretched and saw Draconius, his mate in her more vixen-ish, less hag-ish form, standing next to him. Luke dropped his head back onto the table and grunted.

"Can't this wait? You're interrupting my kelp wrap!" The Hell God whined as the burly man continued his work uninterrupted.

"No," Draconius answered simply. "It cannot."

"We've got news," Lenora purred, walking closer to the naked form of the man on the table and inspecting him. "Not bad," she whispered, her face inches from his ear.

Luke squirmed, trying to ignore the purr, the soft, feminine scent, but his body betrayed him and the muscled man stepped away. "Oh, get out, Hans. We can finish later."

Hans nodded mutely and plodded out of the room as Draconius pulled up a chair and Lenora prowled in circles around the table.

"So, what's so important that you have to scare away the help?" Luke whined, turning on to his stomach and facing Draconius.

"I think it was you, Kitten, who scared away the help," Lenora sighed, her finger grazing his shoulder. She brought the finger to her lips sensuously. "Mmm, salty."

"Oh, enough, woman," Draconius snapped. "Just because the triple breasted whore of Moravia kissed me doesn't mean you have to lose all sense of decorum."

Lenora shot him an evil look and paced back to the wall, arms crossed defensively over her chest. "If you weren't such a tease," she sighed, the anger barely hidden.

"As much as I love the little Hell hate-fest, can you please get on with it before I start to itch," Luke complained.

"Yes, yes," Draconius answered, pulling a cigar from his pocket and lighting it from a flame arising out of the tip of his finger. A neat trick he'd learned in his years at La Maison Rouge. "Lenora sensed that the One has changed."

"Changed?" Luke asked, beginning to scratch his leg. "How? And how is that anywhere *near* as important as good skin?"

"She is pregnant," Lenora answered, prowling back into Luke's field of vision.

"Well, ain't she just the kitten factory?" The Hell god snarked, his fingers working harder against the back of his thigh as the seaweed tightened on his skin. "So, what does that have to do with the price of sex in the red light district?"

Draconius smiled. "Well, a few things. Obviously, the One is easier to physically overcome once the Slayer becomes heavy with child."

"Yeah, well, hasn't seemed to stop her from sending me business," Luke answered, annoyed. "Just makes that little Vampire of hers more protective and all agitated when anyone comes near her. Besides, she outsmarted me when she was about to burst."

"A rabid monkey with one brain cell could outsmart you," Draconius commented, taking a draw from his cigar. "But there is more."

"If you're done insulting your host, I might listen," Luke answered, his hand now furiously scraping at his bottom. "But hurry up before I have to have plastic surgery to fix the scabs on my legs."

"Fine, fine," the Old One brooded. "Lenora sent a little spell up to the Powers that Be. At least to the Powers that Be helping the One."

"Ah, the Sky Queen," Luke mused. "Now *there's* a hottie. Was she naked?"

"No," Lenora answered. "But she was discussing the soul with which to imbue the One's newest addition."

"Not going to let the old Fates handle it?" Luke asked.

Draconius sighed heavily. Having a conversation with Lucifer, he thought, was closely akin to teaching arithmetic to a wall. "No," he replied. "If you *think* about it, my dear host, the Queen needs to be in control of all who are near to the Peacemaker. She would never allow the randomness of the Fates to govern such a decision."

"Then who?" Luke asked. "And why does it matter?"

"The mother," Lenora replied, sitting on the arm of Draconius's chair, but careful not to touch him.

Lucifer furrowed his brow. "What mother? I mean, I thought that the Mother that was with them at the First was already there and popping out kittens of her own with the Father?"

Another long sigh from the Old One. "No, Lucifer. *Her* mother. Joyce? The *Pawn*?"

"Oh, the chick we sent after them a few years back?" Luke questioned as a light bulb went off in his head. "Wow, that's weird."

"And quite fortuitous," Draconius added, smiling.

"For-who?" Luke whined, now bleeding from clawing at the drying seaweed and flopping around on the table like a grounded fish.

"Lucky," Lenora answered. "As we had her in our control in the past, marked her, even for a time, I think I know a way to have her spirit marked again and have her born to the One while under our control."

"Ooh!" Luke cried excitedly. "Like Hell Spawn?"

"Not quite," Draconius said, his voice barely hiding the agitation. "She will be brought unto them like any other human child. Gaining their trust and love. And when the time is right, and they think they have nothing to fear, we activate the child and destroy the One from within. Then go after the Peacemaker."

"That's a little. devious," the wrapped creature on the table snarled, a smile breaking at the end. "Think we got the stuff to do it?"

Draconius nodded slowly. "I think we may just have caught a lucky break courtesy of the Goddess herself."

~~~~~

Spike was busy at the stove making pancakes when the front door burst open and the thunder of feet pounded through the living room and into the kitchen. He stepped away from the stove so that the inevitable tackle wouldn't end up setting any of them ablaze.

Before he could finish the thought, Emma peeled around the corner, Will at her heels, and launched into the air, catching her dad around the waist with her legs as Will grabbed onto his leg.

"Think they missed you," Takina said, smiling from the kitchen doorway.

Spike kissed Emma's forehead. "Missed the Mites as well," he answered, ruffling Will's hair. "Have a good night?"

"They were great," Takina answered.

"We watch'd Lazy and the Twamp," Will announced, looking up with huge blue eyes.

"Pups eating pasta," Spike commented, nodding sagely. "Always a hit."

"And they kkkkiiiissssseeeedddd," Emma drew out. "Like you and mommy do."

"Us?" Spike joked, setting the little girl down on the floor. "Never."

"You tiss all de time," Will commented making a puckery face. Emma squinched her nose.

"Just. your mum likes it, is all," Spike answered slyly. His eyes rose to Takina's. "Stay for breakfast?"

"Nope, got my own cooking man at home," she answered cheerfully. "But soon."

"Right then. Tell the git I said. bugger off," Spike commented, a smile on his face as he lifted Will into a chair and Emma sat down across from him.

"I'll be sure to do that," Takina laughed, backing out of the doorway. "Tell Buffy hi."

"Right," Spike answered, tossing a little wave towards the doctor as he flipped pancakes from the griddle to the kids' plates, a distance of at least five feet, without missing one, to the great pleasure of his progeny.

"Where's mummy?" Will asked, digging into his pancake with chubby palms holding the fork like a dagger.

"Asleep, still," Spike answered, watching the smug smile on Emma's face. She knew something, little blighter, but she wasn't going to fess up. Spike could read it in her angelic face. "What's with you, Mite?"

"Nothin'," her lyrical voice answered as she shoved more pancake into her pretty little mouth.

"Can't lie to me," he laughed, poking her in the side and making her giggle.

"Not lying," Emma answered, still smiling.

"Then what, Mite? What's the grin all about, then?" Spike asked, making a plate piled high with pancakes for Buffy as he worked through his own and watched the two kids scarf down food as if they'd been tied to a stake in the desert for a year with nothing to eat or drink.

"I can't tell you," Emma sang, thinking of her visit to her first home the night before."

Spike quirked an eyebrow and looked at Will. The little boy shrugged and went back to spearing his pancakes. There was something. Emma was hiding something. That worried him.

Emma felt her father's mood shift from joy to concern and decided that maybe she should come clean. After all, she'd made a special trip for them, why destroy her own work? "It's okay, Daddy."

Spike smiled, smoothing her beautiful blonde hair down her back. "What is, Mite?"

"We be happy with mummy's new baby," Will said nonchalantly, shoveling pancakes into his mouth. Both Spike and Emma's heads spun so fast that they both almost fell off their chairs

"What?" Father and daughter said in unison.

Will shrugged again. "Mummy's new baby. Saw it in a dream last night."

Emma smiled, reaching over and helping Will cut up a particularly big chunk of pancake. "Better be a girl," Emma said, immediately dropping the shock of the moment and going on with their breakfast.

Spike watched in slack-jawed awe at his children. One would bring Peace to all dimensions. The other was starting to see what lies ahead. Part of Spike wondered what the next one might bring.

To be contd.

Title: The Flight (Chapter Six of Meant to Be)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

Summary: Buffy tells Willow of her unexpected expectancy. The Queen approaches Joyce to discuss an offer.

The Flight

It was a beautiful, fall day as Buffy walked, Will toddling next to her and Kali balanced on her hip. Willow was chipper, carrying her son, and chatting away about her new job and the kids and Oz and Tara, but Buffy was lost in her own thoughts, wanting to see. Wanting to know. Wanting this feeling inside of her to be real.

". and then Tara.. Hey, Buffy? With me, here?" Willow asked, smiling as they crested the small hill into the park.

"Hmm?" Buffy asked, snapping back to reality and turning her head toward Willow. A sheepish grin broke across her face. "Sorry, a little lost in thought."

"Guess the adventures of the Witches and the Werewolf aren't that exciting," the redhead pouted half-heartedly, working her way across the well manicured lawn and over to a bench.

Buffy chuckled. "Oh, it's interesting. Just. have other stuff on my mind. Didn't mean to be all distracto-girl."

Willow lowered herself onto the park bench, Buffy settling next to her. Will stood before his mum with wide questioning eyes. His mother smiled knowingly. "Yes, you can go play on the swings. But stay close and don't talk to any strangers, okay?"

Will nodded. "Yes, mummy." Before the words had even escaped his lips he was running towards the swing set where a few other park regulars were playing.

"So," Willow began again. "If the hilarity and high jinks of my life can't hold your attention, what's up?"

"Hunh?" Buffy asked, her mind flitting off to the previous night, and Spike, and the white light, and that feeling. That feeling of being complete. In one moment, feeling whole.

Concern crossed the Witch's face. " You all right?"

Buffy turned her attention back to Willow again, fighting the urge to lose herself in her thoughts. "Yeah, just. thinking."

"And back to the what's up?"

Buffy shifted Kali onto her lap and debated telling Willow. It was so early. Last night. No way of really telling yet. No way to know.

Spike's words echoed in her head. 'I know it, Pet.'

"Buffy?"

"Um," the Slayer started, hesitantly. "Well, you see, there was this thing and."

"There are lots of 'this things' in Sunnydale. More specific with the thing?" Willow chided.

"Last night. Spike and I were, you know, doing what Spike and I do."

"If it's not patrolling, I'm sorry I asked," the redhead commented, smiling. "A little TMI, Buff."

Buffy chuckled. "No, well, I mean, yeah, but that's not the point."

"Still walking dangerously into the grounds of the information not needed. Have I ever told you I was gay?"

Another eruption of giggles relaxed Buffy enough to spit it out. "The point being that something was different last night, I mean, with the too much information part."

"I'm afraid to ask," Willow interjected, smiling and cuddling Loki against her chest.

A smirk crossed Buffy's face. Something she'd perfected after nearly a decade of dealing with Spike. "Will, I think... I think I'm pregnant."

Willow's eyes grew wide. "You mean, with another baby?"

"I'm hoping. I mean birthing something else might be a little. ewww." She shuddered for emphasis.

"From last night? How do you know?" The look on Willow's face was between utter shock and complete elation.

"Skipping all the delicious, yet TMI, parts, in the middle of. well, one of the TMI parts, there was this light and it surrounded us both and then it was like. I don't know. I mean, I felt it, Will. So did he. And then it was. that empty space that was there, wanting another baby, was gone. "

"Spike knows?" Willow asked, studying the cautious joy on her best friend's face.

"He felt it too. He's sure. Willow, I'm sure," Buffy said, almost pulling off conviction.

Willow sighed. Always hesitant to use magic now when there were other ways, she debated telling Buffy that she could find out if she truly wanted to know. Buffy's wistful look, clouded by the absolute terror that she was wrong, clinched it for the Witch.

"Do you want to know for sure?" Willow asked.

Buffy's head snapped around, nearly giving her whiplash. "How. what do you mean?"

"I can tell," the Witch answered. "If you want me to. It's sort of magic, though."

"Will it hurt the baby? I mean, if there is one?" Buffy asked, that cautiousness interrupting her excitement yet again.

Willow shook her head. "No, no, nothing like that. Nothing at all invasive or anything. Just a little. prickly."

Buffy thought for a moment. Spike's mantra that magic always has consequences played through her head. But this wasn't really doing anything, changing anything. Not altering the fabric of reality. Plus, Willow was a really powerful and really careful Witch now. She wouldn't do anything that might possibly screw things up for them.

"This won't. there won't be consequences, right?"

"Channeling Spike, much?" Willow joked, smiling. "Consequence free. I know. Tara and I used it after. well, the thing with Oz."

"And back to the TMI," Buffy chided, a smile breaking on her face. "So, no swallowing anything nasty or prodding, or any some such?"

"Nope. Not big into the prodding outside of my office," Willow answered, a reciprocal smile on her face. "So, do you want to know?"

Buffy looked up at the sky, studying the big, white, puffy clouds. Thinking the answer might be there. Her eyes closed, as she thought. Would this be okay with whoever let this be?

A voice in her head, a lovely female voice, answered, "Yes".

Would Spike be upset with her for knowing?

A more familiar, velvety, chocolate purr, "Of course not, Pet. Want you to be happy. Want you to be sure."

Buffy looked over at Willow. "What do I have to do?"

Willow took Kali and sat her beside Loki on the bench between them. "Don't have to do anything. Effort free," the redhead answered, keeping Buffy's gaze in hers. "Just relax and enjoy the show."

Buffy furrowed her brow as Willow reached over, across her two children, and placed her palm over Buffy's stomach. Not touching, but only inches away.

At first, nothing happened, but as Buffy watched, a glow coalesced between Willow's hand and her stomach. A warm, white glow that prickled Buffy's skin. The glow began to take shape. At first, a spinning ball that divided and grew and swirled and shaped until a tiny form appeared in the air. Willow smiled, looking at Buffy's wide eyes.

"Congratulations," the Witch said quietly, her smile spreading ear to ear.

Buffy was awestruck. "That's. that's . is that?"

"Not yet. But soon," Willow answered, watching Buffy's eyes fill with tears and her hand cup over her mouth. "Do you want to know whether or not it will be a boy or a girl?"

Buffy shook her head; freeing one tear and watching it fall on Willow's cupped palm. "No. Spike. he should be there if we. I don't know if I even want to know this time." Her hand stretched down and joined Willow's, cupping the glow in her hand.

"Pretty cool?" The Witch commented.

Buffy nodded. "Very."

Willow dropped her concentration and the glow disappeared. Buffy's eyes raised to hers, both women smiling and crying at the same time. "So, you're going to have another baby!"

The Slayer thought for a moment, her hand resting across her flat stomach and smiled. "I'm going to have another baby." ~~~~~~

The Queen walked down the sky blue rise of her castle in the clouds towards the Gates of Heaven. Lush and verdant and full of love and life. Her trips to the Valley of Souls always warmed her heart. The best of the mortal world resided here, in the Kingdom of the Sky, and it never ceased to amaze her, the love and generosity that beings that had so little power, so little control over their existence, could express to each other, and to her.

This trip, however, was a business trip. She'd sent her King to the Court to tell the other Queens of the decisions that had been made in regard to the One. Really, although equally powerful, they had no control over what the Sky Queen did with her emissaries and her crusaders. But the future of the Peacemaker, and thus the One, affected all of their Kingdoms. All planes of existence. Besides, it was only polite.

The Queen passed her hand through the air at the Gates and they opened, allowing her passage into the paradise beyond. The mortal souls, happy and contented, were all around her, talking and laughing and playing. Serene and gentle and so very sweet. Some bowed to the Queen but she always raised them immediately. This was their rest, where they had their reward for the brutalities of life. For constantly having to bow to someone or another for some strange mortal reason. The last thing they deserved was to be asked to do it in their peace. Still, some of the newer souls insisted.

Finally, the Queen came upon a member of her Court. A beautiful Pegasus with wings of gold, standing guard over the inner gates. The creature bowed , one leg bent to the ground, his head dropping, as the Queen approached.

"Oh, Mercurius, please. You should know better by now," the Queen laughed, approaching the silvery white creature and patting him softly on the muzzle.

Mercurius straightened, snorting a little and leaning into the Queen's touch. "My Lady, it is only polite."

"Polite or no, you are under no obligation to bow down at my very presence. You should know I do not expect that of my Court."

Again, Mercurius snorted. "You are a different Queen, my Lady. But suffice it to say that my upbringing will not abide by improper etiquette."

"Your father was quite a stickler for that," the Queen responded with a chuckle. "However, I corrected him constantly as well."

At that, the Pegasus whinnied, the closest his kind could come to a laugh. "What is it I can do for you this day, my Queen?"

"I am looking for the mother of the Slayer," the Queen responded kindly. "I have a proposition for her."

The Pegasus nodded, never questioning his mistress's commands. "Shall I find her for you?"

The Queen nodded, then her face slackened a bit. "No. I'd like to go to her, this time. It's been too long since I've toured the Valley of Souls."

Mercurius nodded again and went down onto his front knees, allowing the Queen to swing upon his back effortlessly. He straightened again, rising up to his full, impressive height as slowly and fluidly as ever a creature could manage. Carrying his Queen through her Kingdom was his kind's greatest honour and he would not take the chance of letting her fall.

"Are you ready, my Queen?"

"I am," she answered, smiling and patting his neck. "Show me my world, my loyal Mercurius."

"My great pleasure, my Lady."

With that, he pressed gracefully up onto his rear legs and pushed effortlessly into the air, gliding above the verdant land below.

The Queen watched the land pass underneath. Her World, if she dared say, was the most beautiful of the Kingdoms. Land meets Sky. Air meets Earth. Light was soft and kind and the colours were such that the mortal mind could not fathom the hues even in the most vivid corners of their minds. Fields and valleys and forests and plains passed underneath their feet as Mercurius glided gracefully, golden wings catching the air and reflecting the light of the sun into a rainbow of colour and light.

Slowly, he descended by a stream near the Forest of Laughter, landing without a wobble on the lush, green banks. The breeze in the trees made them sound as if they were always giggling, smiling, happy. It was one of the Queen's favourite spots, and swinging her bare feet down onto the soft, pillowy grass as Mercurius knelt, reminded her why.

Even the soil felt joyous, the blades of grass, peaceful. The air was light and breezy and calm. It was there that she found her subject, sitting on the bank of the stream, watching it ebb and flow around the rocks. A young girl, barely a teenager, sat with her, giggling at the older woman's tales.

"Joyce," the Queen said fondly, the smile on her face coming out in the lilt of her voice. Joyce looked up wide eyed and then stood, scrambling up the bank and bowing her head. "My Lady," she said quietly.

The Queen took a step forward, placing her hand underneath the woman's chin, raising her eyes to meet her own. "Do not bow before me. You are not my servant. You are my guest."

"Yes, my Lady," Joyce answered quietly, staring into the brilliant, beautiful eyes of the Queen.

"Besides," The Queen continued. "We are nearly related now. My daughter is now your granddaughter. My greatest weapon, half your blood."

Joyce smiled. "Buffy."

The Queen nodded, returning the smile. "Buffy," she repeated. The little girl that had been sitting with Joyce stood, walking over next to them.

"Yes?" Her small voice said.

The Queen looked at the girl. "You, my darling. Would you like to ride on Mercurius?"

The girl, that part of Buffy who had died to allow the rest to become the Slayer and then the One, sized up the winged horse and smiled. "Can I?"

Both Joyce and the Queen chuckled. "You may."

Mercurius again bowed, allowing the girl to pull her up using his mane as leverage, then straightened and looked at his Queen. She nodded and he launched, taking the little girl on a ride across the Heavens.

The two women were quiet for a moment, watching the girl and her winged friend fly until they disappeared from sight. It was then that they returned their attention to one another.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Joyce asked, cocking her head and studying her beautiful Queen with awed curiosity.

"I have a proposition for you," the Queen said, taking Joyce's hand and leading her back down the bank to the spot where she had been sitting before. They both lowered themselves onto the soft grass and watched the water swirl by.

"Okay," Joyce finally answered, looking back at the Queen. "What. what is it?"

The Queen sighed, looking from Joyce to the water, then back to Joyce. "Emma, your granddaughter, my child, came to me the other night," she began; studying the flow of the clear, blue water. "She told me that the One wanted another child. That the Slayer was sad and the Vampire was helpless to make it right."

Joyce returned her gaze to the water. "I can see that in Buffy. She always wanted to be a mother. Have kids. Be a wife. Amazing considering what she lived through with."

"You did not fail her in any way," the Queen interrupted, cutting off that line of thought. "She is wise and loving and caring, traits that I can only attribute to your tutelage."

Joyce chuckled. "I did my best. It was. a lot."

"And we knew you could handle it. That is why she was given to you," the Queen responded. "And, although we had never anticipated the union of the One producing more than the Peacemaker, Emma, we had to take into account the human desire for family and love and need. So we granted them William."

Buffy's mother smiled fondly, remembering the awkward, yet handsome, sweet man that had kept her company when she first arrived. She had seen him as a child both on Earth, and in dreams while she'd been here. He was happy now. Where he belonged. "You were kind to give him that choice."

"It was a reward. To him, mostly, for making the Vampire what he is today. For leaving the sense of dignity and romance and value which allowed a creature of darkness to become a creature of light."

Joyce nodded her understanding. William was the part of Spike that allowed him to love Buffy. To take care of her baby, and her baby's babies. "And now?" Joyce asked, again returning her gaze to the Queen.

The Queen sighed, remembering how she melted in Emma's sweet smile and heartfelt plea. "Well, again, we've been forced to rethink our decision. Of course, there is no reason, in the cosmic scheme of things, to grant the One another child. The Peacemaker is their mission."

Joyce almost interrupted, wanting to correct the Queen. Explain that their lives on Earth were more than just a mission. But the Queen held up a hand. "But we understand that their happiness, their success, their lives on Earth are more than just their duties as our pawns. That they have wants and needs and desires that we do not necessarily understand. Or think are vital. But, they have been good to us, and to each other, and to our World, so I could not make any choice other than to grant their wish."

An excitement flashed through Joyce's eyes. "So."

"Buffy is pregnant," the Queen answered. "The third child of the One will be born into their world."

Joyce almost beamed with pride, her eyes filling with tears. She was so happy for Buffy. So happy for Spike. But part of her was so incredibly sad. So sorry that she'd miss another grandchild being born. Miss playing with them. Watching them grow and learn and spoiling them rotten and never having to discipline them. Watching her daughter beam at their every move, and her unlikely son-in-law fall asleep with an infant cradled in his arms.

The Queen sensed Joyce's conflict. "I've come with an offer," she said quietly.

Joyce turned again, eyes still teary. "What. what is that?"

The beautiful Queen took her hand, holding it gently in her own. "I need to know that those that surround the One are true. I need them to be honest and kind and loving and strong. I know that their lives are not just about our mission, but I do have to protect that mission."

Slowly, Joyce nodded her understanding. "I agree."

"So, I came here today to ask you.. Would you like to go home?"

To be contd.

Title: Trading Spaces (Chapter Seven of Meant to Be)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

The rest of the story can be found at:

and present chapters are being posted on my live journal at:

Summary: Joyce delivers her decision to the Queen. Spike has an important talk with Cyrus and Giles.

Trading Spaces

Joyce sat on the bank of the river, those words echoing through her head.

"Would you like to go home?"

So many thoughts. So many emotions in that one little question. To see them again - Buffy, Dawn - even through different eyes. But to see them. To touch them. Feel that love.

Heaven, in all of her glory and unconditional love and happiness, could not replicate the kind of complete belonging of family. To hold and be held. To touch and be touched. To watch her grandchildren grow up, even if they were now her siblings.

But Buffy. *This* world's Buffy. The child that had to die for the Slayer to exist. Even if leaving, in the grand scheme of things, was only temporary, what would that child do? How would she feel? Who would sit by the river and skip stones and talk about the colours of the flower petals and the way that the Pegasus' wings moved differently from that of the bird?

Finally, Joyce's attention flitted from the quiet ebb and flow of the water and back to her Queen. "What would. what would happen to Buffy?"

The Queen furrowed her brow, not quite sure of the question. Joyce shook her head in two quick movements and clarified. "This Buffy. The child Buffy."

A small smile painted the Queen's rosy lips. "She will, of course, be invited to stay in the Palace of the Sky under my protection. If you are to be part of the group that watches over my child, I shall certainly watch over yours while you are away."

Joyce nodded slowly, her attention returning to the water. "Would I remember? I mean. will I remember being Buffy's mother?"

"You will have a sense of them. Know that your past with your parents goes far beyond the life that you live. But, no. You won't remember the life from which you just came. You will not remember being her mother," the Queen replied.

Again Joyce nodded. It was silent now except for the sound of the river flowing and the trees giggling quietly in the background. Joyce watched the water, hoping, wondering, waiting for it to give her an answer.

"And you said you would take care of this Buffy? Tell her that I would not leave her forever?" Tears began to spill down the woman's cheeks.

The Queen's gentle hand reached out and brushed the tears away with hands as soft as rose petals. Delicately, she turned Joyce's face to look at hers and smiled a soft, genuine smile. "My dear, remember that the time one spends away is but the blink of an eye here. I know for you, this has seemed a long road. But the passage of time in Heaven is relative. A lifetime on Earth can pass in seconds here. Or, when you miss the ones that you love, it can be an eternity. I am only offering you a chance to spend one more blink of the eye with your family. You do not have to take it. But, for your sacrifices in order to preserve your daughter, and the One, you have earned it. Your daughter, the one who had to cross to this dimension in order to allow the Union of the One to occur, will be rewarded for her sacrifice as well. In the meantime, I will guard her as one of my own. Love her as I have loved you and all of those who come to stay with me. To her, your time away will be but a dream. One night's dream."

Tears flowed in silvery ribbons down Joyce's cheeks as she listened to the smooth, soothing voice of the Queen. Her heart was bursting and breaking at the same moment.

"Do you want to go home, my child?"

"Yes." ~~~~~

Spike walked through the heavy oak doors, customary swagger in tow, and into the establishment, surveying his surroundings all the while. The walls were a deep cherry paneling, the floor much the same. Crimson and gold tapestries hung along the walls and rich burgundy leather chairs surrounded cherry wood tables of varying sizes, glossed to a near blinding radiance. There was a bar at the far end of the room, polished and gleaming, and a barkeep in a crisp black suit drying glasses to a dazzling shine.

This was definitely a step up from the Bronze.

Finally, Spike spotted his target sitting in a leather chair against the wall, taking a long, smooth pull of his draft, a cigar smoldering in the crystal ashtray on the table in front of him. Slowly, Spike made his way across the intimate space, feeling guilty about even looking at other patrons. This was not the type of place in which one people-watched and "restyled" as Buffy had once explained to him in the mall as she ripped into the ensembles of passers-by.

"Spike?" The familiar voice said as Spike approached the table. He had been told to dress properly. No jeans. No boots. No broken-in leather armour. With much grumbling, Buffy had dressed him in sleek black pants, a fitted black shirt with a collar and buttons which she promised to unbutton later in an even more kittenish way, and polished black shoes. His silver belt buckle was the only break from the funeral attire. Buffy could change the clothes but not the man.

A small smile broke on his face. Didn't think she wanted to change him anymore. That felt quite good.

"Rupert," Spike answered, shaking the hand offered to him and settling into a chair across the table.

Cyrus walked up in a customary, Watcher-issue tweed suit, carrying three pints of golden ale and settling them down in the center of the table.

"Thanks, mate," Spike said, taking a glass and immediately downing a gulp before nodding his approval at the Watchers. Cyrus shook his head, a smile on his lips, and lowered himself into the seat between Giles and Spike.

"Step up from the Bronze, innit?" Spike commented, looking round the perfectly appointed room.

"Quite," Giles answered, a smug grin on his face. "I had to do a little rerouting of funds and a bit of string-pulling with the Council, but I think it will do."

Spike furrowed his brow, head tilting as he worked through that remark. "You own this place?"

"Technically, no," Giles answered, removing his glasses and setting them down onto the polished table. He rubbed his eyes gently, thinking. "The Council owns most of it. I'd explained that Sunnydale proper was utterly devoid of any suitable place to entertain visiting Watchers and researchers into the mythology of the One."

"Hey, there!" Spike snapped, mildly offended. "Not a myth, Buffy and me."

"I meant it in the kindest way possible," Rupert responded without missing a beat, a smile breaking on his face as he took another pull of his draft.

Spike relaxed, chuckling and returning the smile. Cyrus shook his head. Watching the two of them interact was like watching a cat with a mouse. Only it was anyone's guess as to whose turn it was to be the feline.

"So, got a bit bored with watering down at the Bronze and figured a way to get the Council to provide you with a more. age appropriate establishment?" Spike questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Except for the extremely low crack about the age, yes."

Spike chuckled again, taking another drink from the chilled bar glass. "Nice place you got here."

"Thanks," Cyrus answered, joining the conversation. "It was. a project."

"Watcher turned interior decorator," Spike teased, another bit of golden liquid missing from the glass.

Cyrus did his best to smirk a response.

"So, Spike. What brings us here tonight? I believe it was you who called to meet with us? Something wrong with Emma? William? Buffy?" Giles's tone changed almost instantly from casual to serious as he listed the people who had become his family.

Spike shook his head quickly, banishing the thought from the Watcher's mind in an instant. "Nothin' like that, mate. Buffy'n the kids are right as rain."

"Then to what do we owe the pleasure?" Giles asked. "Not that it was a burden. Anya has become quite addicted to Trading Spaces and is currently remaking our house and driving me up the wall."

"Lovely shade of pink she painted your bedroom," Cyrus teased, ducking the swat that doubtless was coming his way.

Spike laughed. A rich, relaxed purr of a sound. It had been a while since he'd been out alone with just the men. Much as he loved Buffy, he realized that even the greatest of loves needed a night or two off.

"Won't even start," Spike muttered, stifling a laugh. "Poofter."

"Now, Spike," Giles began to scold, his face reddening with anger.

"Easy, Watcher. Got to remember, got two women of my own in the house. I drew the line at fuzzy pink bathmats and frilly pillows."

Giles relaxed, his own chuckle bubbling up from deep within. "I do believe they've emasculated us."

"Still got my rocks," Spike bragged, taking a suitably manly swig of beer.

Cyrus laughed. "Right. That's why you were carrying Buffy's purse, holding Emma's hand and toting along school supplies in the mall last week."

"Hey!"

"Just pointing out," Cyrus teased, ducking from a swat on the opposite side.

Spike let the laughter die down a bit and waited for a lull in the jovial banter. Had to think of a way to tell them. Had to come up with the right words.

He chuckled to himself, muttering, "Actually, my rocks had a bit to do with it."

"Pardon?" Giles said, nearly spitting out his mouthful of beer.

"Say that aloud, did I? Sorry," Spike answered, smile lighting his face.

"Mind explaining that comment?" Giles asked shaking his head briskly to banish any and all thoughts of Spike's rocks, and what they could do, from his head.

"Right," Spike began, leaning back in his chair and taking up a completely manly slouch. "Got a bit of news that Buffy and I thought you should know." He paused for a minute, deciding if he should drop an annoyance bomb. Course. "Dad."

"Hate it when you call me that," Giles snapped, eliciting a throaty laugh from Cyrus and a smug grin of satisfaction from Spike. "Out with it. You're making my skin crawl more than normal tonight."

Spike laughed, leaning forward. "Haven't told anyone else. Well, 'magine Buffy told Red this afternoon, but I'm thinking she wants to keep it quiet a while. You know, 'til things are definite."

"Definite?" Cyrus asked.

"What in God's name are you getting at Spike? I'm quite sure that there's a point buried in there somewhere," Giles sighed, taking another pull from the bar glass.

"Love it when your knickers are in a bunch, Watcher," Spike teased. He waited a moment, letting the snarkiness fade off before he got to the crux of the issue. "We think, Buffy and I, well I'm sure, I think."

"Out with it, "Giles snapped, annoyance lacing his tone.

"Looks like Buffy and I are due to have another tot," Spike blurted, a satisfied smile making the lines around his eyes dance. "So, guess it does have something to do with my stones."

Both Cyrus and Giles sat there in disbelief, slack jawed and staring at the Vampire. Spike's smile faded, wondering what brought on this reaction. Finally, Cyrus broke the silence.

"You sure?"

"Haven't been to the doctor yet, but. yeah," Spike answered, curiosity replacing sarcasm in his voice.

"How is it possible?" Giles muttered to himself. "By all accounts, the prophesy allowed for only one child to be born to the One."

"Buffy's not one for following prophesies to the letter, Watcher. Should know that one by now. Bit of a rebel, my girl," Spike mused, his smile returning as thoughts of her pretty face, her perfect, golden body, her smile, her eyes, flooded his mind. It made him want to run home. Who needed nights alone with the men?

"Quite right on that count," Giles responded, rubbing his eyes again. "A third Windsor child," he thought aloud. "God help us, every one."

"Hey now. Tots we have are good little mites and you know it," Spike defended.

Giles chuckled at Spike's fierce protectiveness over his family. "Spike, they're lovely children. I'm just giving you a bit of a hard time."

Spike relaxed, returning to the more casual slouch. "They are, aren't they?"

"Quite," Cyrus said. "I doubt anyone could have possibly imagined that the Slayer and her Vampire would make such good parents."

"Hey, not *her* anything," Spike snapped, defending his much talked about rocks. He felt the lie in the words as they slid from his lips.

Giles and Cyrus burst into gales of laughter. "Spike, you're a slave to her and those children. In a good way, but you're her everything," Cyrus retorted, chuckling softly.

"Willing slave," Spike corrected, slouching further in the chair. "Got to give me some credit."

"I'll grant you that," Giles responded, amused. The laughter died slowly down at the table and they fell silent, musing on what was said. Spike and Buffy becoming parents for the third time. The thought should terrify them all. A Vampire. A Slayer. A prophesy.

But it didn't. In fact, it filled them all with the warmth that only true joy could bring.

"So, I suppose I get to play grandfather once again," Giles sighed, smiling, lifting his glass towards the others. "I can't wait."

The two other men lifted their glasses in turn.

"To Spike and Buffy and their newest child. May he, or she, be as happy and as healthy as the two before," Giles recited, clinking glasses with his partners.

"Hear hear," both Cyrus and Spike said in unison.

"And God help us all," Giles snarked, under his breath.

"Congratulations."

To be contd.

Title: On the Way (Chapter Eight of Meant to Be)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

The rest of the story can be found at:

and present chapters are being posted on my live journal at:

Summary: Two months into the future. It is now Thanksgiving Day. A look into the lives of some of the other couples in the extended family as they prepare for what should be a big night. And Buffy and Spike aren't the only ones with an announcement.

On the Way

Anya stood before her vanity, putting on lipstick and checking her new chestnut coloured dress from every angle.

"I still don't understand why humans dress up to go to someone's house and eat, especially when they go there all the time and jeans are good enough," she whined, hiking up her skirt to adjust her slip.

Giles chuckled, shrugging on a black jacket. "I suppose, dear, that the change in clothing signifies the event is something out of the ordinary." Slowly, he worked his way behind his love, wrapping arms around her waist and kissing the crown of her head. "But regardless of the reason, you look stunning."

Anya smiled, looking at their reflection in the mirror. Slowly, she wiggled around in his arms and pushed up on her toes to kiss him properly. "I love it when you give good feedback."

Again, Giles chuckled. "Most like to call it a compliment."

"Compliment, whatever," Anya answered, pressing her lips against him again. She eyed the bed, wondering silently if there were time to play a little game of stuff the turkey, but decided that it would be rude and would make Rupert mad if they were late for Buffy's dinner.

"I should go get Randy," she whispered, her voice hoarse with lust.

Giles was instantly intrigued by her tone, pressing against her. "Anya," he breathed, kissing her cheek, her neck, as delicately as butterfly's wings. Her eyes slid closed, wondering how rude late really was.

Finally, her well-studied etiquette lessons got the better of her and she grunted, pushing him away. "I need to go get Randy. Buffy's going to be all upset if we're not on time and she's all hyped up about something she wants to tell us and I wish people just told people when they had news instead of being all mysterious about it and."

Giles sighed, trying to collect his raging hormones and rein them back in. "I've put out the outfit you bought him, and the nanny gave him a bath before she left."

Anya nodded, backing slowly out of his embrace and turning around. As she reached the door, she turned again to face him. "Rupert?"

"Yes, dear?" He questioned, straightening his suit jacket.

"When we get home, can we have a little. celebration of our own?"

A smile broke across the man's face. "Absolutely, my love." ~~~~~

"So, act surprised, right?" Tara asked, fastening her long, flowing skirt. It was a pretty cream colour, with autumn leaves in browns and yellows and greens and oranges embossed on the fabric.

Willow giggled. "Yeah, because Buffy'd be really upset if she knew I told you."

"Don't you think she would have assumed that you did?" Tara moved around and zipped the back of Willow's dress.

"Buffy? No. She's all with the secrets when she wants to be."

"Did you tell Oz?"

"Tell me what?" Oz asked, coming into the bedroom, dressed in jeans and a white button down, a black suit jacket over the top and a tot in each arm, both dressed in their best new Thanksgiving outfits. Almost matching.

"No," Willow said to Tara, giggling and turning back to Oz, loosing Loki from his arms and pulling him against her. "And doesn't my little man look handsome."

"You got them dressed?" Tara asked, gently smiling and freeing Kali from Oz's other arm, allowing him to finish fastening his cuffs and straightening his jacket.

"I did," Oz said, returning her smile. "Amazing how little people clothes are much like ours."

"What with the buttons and zippers," Willow agreed, nodding. "And you look. wow."

"Very nice," Tara agreed, sizing up the man and winking.

Oz raised an eyebrow and gave them his best playboy look. "You're just trying to get me to father more babies." He sighed deeply. "The life of a prize stallion."

Both girls laughed, each taking one of his arms. "Not now, dear, I've got a . well, I like girls." Willow laughed, heading to the door.

"All the good ones are either gay or taken," Oz replied, sighing again wistfully.

"But at least you get to live in the strangest version of the Brady Bunch ever, and help raise your absolutely wonderful kids," Willow consoled, kissing Oz's cheek and then Loki's head.

"This is true, and definitely of the good," the Werewolf responded, brushing stray hair from his daughter's face. "Not to mention two of the best friends a guy could have."

"I bet we sort of. screw up your whole dating scene," Tara commented, grabbing her sweater and slipping a coat onto Kali.

Oz watched the two women get ready to go out, lovingly helping their children and each other, preparing for another extended family gathering. It had never occurred to him, not even once, that he could, or should, be dating. He got everything he needed here, with them. And, on rare occasions, a night alone with a girlie mag.

"I'm pretty happy where I am," he answered, his voice full of conviction.

Tara smiled, her face lighting up. "Well, we're pretty happy you stayed."

"You know, for prize stallion purposes," Willow snarked, kissing his cheek and taking his arm again. "Ready?"

Oz shook his head, chuckling. "As I'll ever be. Ladies?" ~~~~~~~~

Dawn was tearing around the room like a chicken with her head cut off, her black dress still unzipped in the back and her skin still glistening from the shower. "Where are my black shoes?" She screeched, scrabbling through the closet.

Brian sat on the bed, a smile on his face. Something about her, even when she was a disorganized mess, was just so. beautiful. Slowly, he stood, making his way over to his girlfriend and grabbing her hips, pulling her toward him. She stopped her frantic movements at his touch and turned facing him. "We're going to be *so* late," she sighed, resigned.

Again, he smiled, backing her towards the bed and settling her down on the mattress. "Sit," he ordered, walking back to the closet and instinctively picking out the exact pair of black heels that she'd been looking for in less than a second.

"How did."

"I know you," he answered, grinning and walking back to her. He dropped to his knees, picking up one of her perfect, well-pedicured feet and sliding the shoe on, letting his fingers trace the arch of her foot. She closed her eyes at the touch.

"Brian," she sighed.

"What?" He answered, coyly.

"Ummm."

"No foot rubs now. Maybe later," he joked, slipping the other shoe on and buckling the ankle straps.

When he was finished, he rocked back on his heels, looking up at her. She blinked, looking back, her eyes glistening with love and happiness. "What?" She asked, suddenly feeling self conscious under his gaze.

Brian's smile faded, taking in the woman that Dawn had become. Tall, with shining dark hair, her body long and lean but still decidedly feminine, with curves in all the right places. She could have been a model. She should have been. She could have had any man she wanted.

But she picked him.

And he never *once* took that for granted.

"Dawn," he began, his voice choked with emotion. She looked down at him quizzically, nervously smiling, her fingers toying with her necklace.

"What?" Another nervous giggle.

Brian closed his eyes. Breathed. Slid his hand into his pants pocket. "I."

"You." she teased, not looking at anything but his gorgeous brown eyes, his chiseled features and square chin. His beautiful dark brown hair.

He swallowed. "I know how you . I know that. oh, hell, Dawnie."

A puzzled look crossed her face. "So confused now."

"I know you don't know how you feel about. well, what happened with your mom and dad. But you. your sister and Spike are so happy and I . we. could be that happy," Brian stuttered, squeezing the box in his palm and trying not to sweat profusely.

"What." Dawn muttered, her expression somewhere between terrified and excited.

Brian took a deep breath, raising his hand to her knee and opening it, palm up. "I think I could make you that happy."

Dawn looked at the small velvet box, then at his face. Back to the box. Gingerly, she reached down, taking it from his hand and examining it, almost scientifically.

"It's prettier inside," Brian joked nervously.

Dawn held her breath, not sure how she would react when she saw what was inside but knowing she had to face this question sooner or later. Her heart pounded in her chest, her hands suddenly shaking, making the box vibrate. Distantly, she felt his hand on her arm, steadying it, but her entire focus was on the box.

Slowly, she brought her other hand to the top, lifting it open, almost as terrified of what was inside as she was thrilled. She *loved* this man. With every fiber of her being. She had tried, over and over, to imagine what life would be without him and every time she concluded that it would be only half a life. Half a love. Half a World. But still..

Dawn's breath caught in her throat as she saw it. A silver ring with a moonstone, a little like Buffy's but a more modern setting, and a ring of small diamonds around the center stone. Remotely, she felt tears drizzle down her cheeks, smearing her newly applied mascara.

"I. I thought that. that you'd want something different. And since. since you always talked about how Spike and Buffy belonged together, and how it was different for them, I thought maybe you'd think it was kind of. good luck, if I picked something. like hers." His voice shook with fear and emotion. "If you don't like it."

"I." Dawn whispered, her voice choked with tears. "It's beautiful. I love it."

Finally, she hazarded a glance at Brian. His face was so full of hope, of promise, of want. He adored her. Loved her endlessly. Would do anything for her, and had.

He was the one. *Her* one.

"Dawn," Brian said, quietly, pushing himself back onto his knees. "I would be honoured if you'd marry me. "

The words struck her like a lightning bolt, flashes of photos of her mom and dad, of fights and screaming and abandonment and anger, followed by images of Spike with his arms around Buffy, holding their babies, feeling their love in any room in which they stood together. Then of Brian, and his endless devotion, and perfect little dark haired children playing in the sunshine with the others.

"Please," he continued, not sure what to make of her almost blank countenance.

"Yes," Dawn whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Okay," Brian said, a smile breaking on his face. "But do you think you could say that again so that I can hear it?"

Dawn giggled through her tears, reaching down to touch his face. "Yes, Brian. Yes, yes yes."

He pulled her down to him, scooping her into his arms and holding her more ferociously than he wanted, but she laughed, kissing his neck, holding him just as tightly and hoping. Hoping. Hoping.

Slowly, he pushed her back, taking her hand and sliding the ring on her finger. It glowed as if it had found its true home. She stared at it for a long moment, moving her hand to catch the light.

Suddenly, her face lit up. "Ohmigod! We can tell them all tonight!"

"Hence my impeccable timing!" Brian snarked, brushing her hair back from her face and kissing her lips softly.

"I really do love you," Dawn said, kissing him back. "Please don't let me down. Please don't let me let you down."

"Never," Brian breathed, stroking her hair and feeling her relax into his arms. "Now go get ready so we can spread the good news."

Dawn sat bolt upright in his arms. "Oh shit! We're going to be *so* late." ~~~~~~~~

Spike walked down the final step and rounded the corner towards the kitchen, still fastening his belt and grumbling that Buffy insisted on pressed black slacks and a royal blue button down for him, rather than his usual jeans and a T-Shirt.

Anything to make her happy.

He stood for a moment in the doorway, watching her washing up dishes and cleaning up the mess he'd made cooking. He'd fully intended on tidying up before the guests arrived, but had gotten sidetracked moving all the furniture in the living room and dining room so they could set up tables big enough to accommodate them all.

Still, she was so beautiful to watch, her blonde hair lit golden by the late afternoon sunshine, her loose dress flowing around her knees, her small frame moving gracefully as she reached up to put away dishes. So much power in such a tiny package. So much beauty.

Finally, he tore himself away from the vision, walking up behind her silently and wrapping his arms around her. She jumped at first, so distracted by her cleaning that she hadn't felt him coming. But soon she melted, leaning back into his chest.

"See I'm still good for a bit of scaring now and again," he chuckled, nuzzling her hair and kissing her softly. "Would have tidied up after I'd gotten dressed."

"It's no problem. I was ready and you. it was like the Hellmouth moved to under our kitchen," she answered, her hands trailing up and down his long thighs.

"Made a mess, did I?"

She laughed. "Worlds of mess."

"Have to make it up to you later, then," he purred, kissing her ear. Her eyes closed, her nerves firing and something low and tight and very pleasant warming her to the core.

"Hmmm," she hummed, rubbing up against him. "Can't wait."

His hands moved softly up her bare legs, pulling her skirt up with them, feeling the silky smoothness of her thighs under his palms and wanting to call the whole party off just to explore those pretty tight legs all evening long. Judging by her warmth and the pounding of her heart, he could feel she wasn't far from the same thought.

"Want you," he whispered, his blunt teeth grazing her neck.

Buffy hummed again, her backside rubbing deliciously against the front of his pants. "They'll be here any minute."

"A minute won't do," Spike purred again, his tongue darting out and tasting her skin. A small moan escaped her lips. "Take me all night to even begin to give you what you deserve."

"You've already given me more than I deserve," Buffy whispered, taking one of his hands from her thigh and sliding it sensuously over the silk of her dress and resting his palm to her belly.

He smiled into her skin, pride and joy filling him. "Can feel her," Spike whispered, his mouth still dangerously close to her ear.

Buffy tensed. "I'm not showing yet."

"No, Pet," Spike answered, barely noticing the slight thickening of her waist and the little swell in her belly that hadn't even grown enough for her clothes to become tight. But he knew it was there. Felt it every night to be sure of it. His palm rubbed softly. "But I can feel her in you."

Buffy closed her eyes and smiled, resting against him. "It is a girl this time."

"Know, Love," Spike answered, his lips pressing to her cheek. "Another beauty to wrap me round her little finger."

She chuckled, her hand over his. "Spike, I'm. I."

"You deserve her, Pet. We'll love her more than any two people could. Just how it is round here. No doubts. No worries. Just be happy, all right?"

Buffy smiled again, his hand pressing tighter, more protectively, over her stomach. "I am," she answered. "I just. we don't even know her and I love her so much already."

"S'posed to, Love. Like the others. S'your job to protect her now, and mine to protect you."

She turned in his arms to face him. "You know, you're sort of growing on me."

He smiled, smirking at her. "More like growing *in* you."

"That too," Buffy giggled.

"Ready to tell the rest? Rupert assured me he hasn't told a soul," Spike asked, brushing her long hair over her shoulders and kissing her forehead.

"So ready," Buffy answered. "This secret thing? Not so easy."

"Best that you waited to see what the doctor said," Spike confirmed, cupping her backside in his hands. "Not that I don't trust Red."

She nodded her agreement. "I knew. You knew. Willow said. But until the test."

"You did the right thing," Spike agreed, kissing the worry lines from her brow. "But you can tell them tonight, Love."

She smiled, nodding. "Thank you."

"For what?" He asked, returning the smile, his eyes dancing with curiosity.

"This. You. Us. Her," she answered, her hand finding its way between them and over her belly. "Just. everything."

"You're the one I should be thanking. For giving the 'fangy soulless beast' a chance."

Laughter erupted from her throat. "I can't believe I ever said that."

"Which time?" Spike snarked, ducking the jab tossed at his arm. "Let me finish cleaning up," he chuckled. "Tots probably need a little help getting ready."

Buffy nodded. "Where are they?"

Spike sighed. "Emma's in the bathroom, primping like her mum, and Will's running round without his shirt, refusing to wear anything but that silly T- shirt."

"Sound familiar?" Buffy laughed, ducking under Spike's arm and bolting out of the room.

"Bint," he chuckled, starting to put pans in the cupboards. "My girl." ~~~~~~~~

Anya called down the stairs, her voice loud and clear. "Rupie, phone's for you."

Giles looked up towards the sound, registering what she was saying, and then leaned over from his dark leather chair and picked up the cordless. "Got it," he called back.

"Keep it short," Anya called back. "We're almost ready and we're running late as it is."

"Yes, dear," Giles called back, turning his attention to the phone. "Hello?"

"Mr. Giles," a vaguely familiar voice came crackling over the wires.

Giles furrowed his brow, thinking. Then it hit him. "Althea? My dear, how are you? How is the work with the Coven?"

There was a long silence before the voice returned. "Mr. Giles, there is no time for catching up now."

His face slackened at the desperate tone in her voice. "What. what is it, Althea?"

"We've come across some writings. A prophesy."

"Oh?" Giles asked, his voice rising in curiosity. "In regard to the Peacemaker?"

"Indirectly," Althea answered, her voice metered and cold. "About the One. A child of the One."

Giles stopped, stunned. No, it can't be. "Emma? William?"

"The one that is yet to be," Althea answered, her voice breaking up. "It could be bad, Rupert."

He was silent, listening to her talk, his heart dropping in his chest at every word. She couldn't know. How? What? The words she spoke were daggers through his heart, the thought of Buffy, of Spike, the child he knew that she was carrying, weighing heavy on his mind.

"Are you sure?" He finally said, his voice cracking as he took his glasses off, wiping them nervously.

"I will transmit the prophesy to Willow. Tonight. Midnight. If I were you, I would keep this between the two of you until you've sussed out its accuracy."

"I assure you, we will," Giles responded, his heart now in his stomach, his mind reeling.

"Midnight, Mr. Giles."

"Of course."

The phone crackled. And died.

To be contd.

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