Title: Twenty Years (Chapter Twenty- Five of The One)

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 . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .

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: Willow finally talks to Xander about her plans with Tara and Oz.
Twenty Years
Rain pounded down against slick plastic and waterproof clothes. Thunder rolled every so often, white streaks illuminating the darkened sky. It was beautiful, really. Willow imagined that, were they somewhere. north. of Sunnydale, this might be a blizzard. But here, in the quiet sanctity of their own little world, it was a rolling thunderstorm that looked like it might last for eternity.

A static hiss returned her from her reverie. She dug hastily in her pockets, pulling out a handset. "Yes?"

"Loving of the walkie talkie." Xander's voice seemed distant, as if he were a thousand miles away. But he couldn't have been further than the other side of the house.

"We could have done the mind thing," Willow commented, smiling into the handset.

There was a pause. "Yeah, still not liking that. Don't know where it's coming from. Makes me all schizoid."

Willow sighed. "Fear of progress."

"Fear of voices in my head," the thousand-mile voice answered. There was a long pause before anyone spoke again. "Hey, two hours of walking on one big circle is really not. I'm bored. Think we could just sit for a spell?"

She thought about that for a moment. Sitting meant not watching the entire perimeter. However, the silvery blaze should be enough to see from anywhere within the confines of the front and back yard. What was really bothering her was talking. Sitting lead to talking. Talking lead to truth telling. Truth telling lead to embarrassing confessions of future events. She sighed deeply. Better than embarrassing confessions of the past.

"Yeah," she answered. "Sitting is good. Wet, but good. Meet you on the back porch in like.. 15 seconds?"

"Your umbrella or mine?" Xander joked. The static hissing went dead.

Willow rounded the corner to the back of the house, easing through the gate and stopped, her body shaking with laughter. Xander caught the amusement and shrugged, making Willow laugh harder. "Who'd a thunk that a Vampire has a raincoat?" Xander quipped as they walked towards each other in the driving rain.

She tried to stifle a giggle. "Good point. Better one, it doesn't fit."

Xander shot his arms out of the sleeves, showing the five or so inches of exposed skin at the ends of his arms and feeling the jacket stretched tight across his back. It wouldn't close if he'd had Buffy's Slayer strength pulling the front together. Xander shrugged again, eyes flitting up. "Hood works."

Willow smiled, making the sky a little brighter. "And that is of the good." She shifted, putting her golf umbrella over both of them and walked towards the step. "Ready for wet butt?"

"Check," Xander agreed, lowering himself to the step, Willow mirroring him perfectly.

"So, other than the rain jacket of the undead, did you find anything?" Willow chided, watching him shift uncomfortably in the tight coat.

"I'm just figuring out why he has it," Xander asked, wriggling. "I mean, what does the Big Bad want with a raincoat?"

Again, she laughed. "At least it's black," she joked, nudging Xander's shoulder. She was quiet, the smile still painting her face. "He's not bad anyway. And from the looks of things, he's not all that big. At least in the shoulders," she giggled. "But probably so his Big Bad kids have a good role model with daddy in his slicker."

Xander shuddered. "We have kids," he muttered to himself. "When did all this happen?" His eyes were bright, dancing even, as he directed the question at Willow.

Her eyes softened. "We grew up, Xander," Willow commented. "We . settled."

"We have *kids*," he repeated, staring up at the angry sky. "Wow."

"Wow," she repeated, her eyes traveling with his. She let the sound of the rain settle between them before she spoke again. "Xander, do you like it?"

"Like what?" He answered, turning his head towards his best friend. She lowered her eyes, capturing his. Eyes she had seen in every stage of existence. Eyes she had known for over twenty years. That was weird. She could remember a time where she was positive she would never say she'd known anything for twenty years. Now, she was looking right at it.

"Being a parent. Your life," Willow answered honestly, her eyes flitting between his and the sky.

Xander hesitated. Not because he didn't know the answer. He did. In more ways than he could articulate. But he didn't know the question. There was more. He could feel it in his bones the same way he could feel the lightning setting the hairs on the back of his neck on end. "Yeah, Will. I do. I love it. I love Takina. I love River. I wouldn't change a second." He was silent, watching the clouds plow across the sky. "Not even if River *does* end up attached at the hip to fang boy's son."

Willow had to laugh again. "Well, he's Buffy's son too. That's not all that bad," she comforted, patting Xander's back. "Not to mention, he has a cool name."

Xander quirked an eye. "Will," he muttered, smiling to himself. Amazing how you never notice the simple stuff. "Why do you ask?"

She sighed, but rather than a release of tension, it seemed as if the gesture simply pushed it all into Willow's back. She sat stiffly next to her best friend, her hand still clutched around the umbrella. In the back of her mind, she waited for lightning to strike. Then again, if it did, it did.

"Xander, I need to tell you something," she finally said, turning her face back to his with a deep breath.

He nodded, not sure of what to make of it. Although he had been very good at denial with Spike and Buffy, he'd noticed immediately that something was going on with Willow. Something that most everyone knew about but him. He wanted to be angry with her for that. But he knew this was why. This was what she needed. She was just waiting for the right time. "Go ahead."

Her eyes flitted back to the sky. "I'm jealous," she finally said, her small wet hand wringing on her lap. "You know. First of Buffy. Then of you. I mean, it all sort of fell together in its own. weird and supernatural way."

Xander chuckled. "Well, not much weird or supernatural about Takina and me."

"Except she is a demon," Willow commented, smiling.

"That she is," Xander agreed, returning the gesture. "My demon."

Willow couldn't help but smile more broadly before her thoughts took her back to neutral. She sat quietly, letting the rain set the pace for her heart. A fast, nervous thumping against her skin, as if it might just pop out of her chest and scurry away like a bunny.

"Is something. Are there problems. Is everything okay with Tara?" Xander asked, wondering how long he should wait before breaking the silence. Oh well. He had never been so good at the waiting.

"Oh...oh. yeah. Fine. I mean, wonderful," Willow answered, realizing that the way she'd been approaching things wasn't quite the way to her point. The Scoobies all seemed to have a congenital problem with that. Finding the way to the point. Good thing that we all paired off with blunt creatures with the patience of saints. At least with us.

"Then what is it, Will?" Xander asked, eyes full of concern. He laid his bare wrist against her wet jeans and pulled her leg flush to his. "There's nothing you can't say to me. Nothing we can't talk about."

Willow took a deep breath, feeling the electricity in the air pour down her throat like magic. "This is hard." she began. This time, Xander waited out the silence, letting her set the pace. "When I said I was jealous, I meant that I was jealous of the kids. Of Emma, and Will, and River, and Randy. It. I dunno. It gets to me sometimes."

Xander felt his heart sink. He knew that they had been bantering about the idea of adopting and artificial insemination and all sorts of things, but he didn't realize to what extent it had affected her. It made him feel guilty, as the tears slid down her cheeks. He hadn't even noticed. "Will."

"Just let me spit this out," Willow interrupted, a nervous smile breaking on her face in stark contrast to the little rivers of tears that almost blended in with the raindrops. "I know Takina had been giving us options, but. Xander. we really wanted our own. I mean, if we are capable, why shouldn't we?"

He sat dumbfounded, not sure if she wanted an answer or if she just wanted to speak. He decided the latter. At least until she prodded him into commenting. Instead, he nodded.

"So, I guess Spike of all people, figured that out. I don't know why or how. I guess he's just good at . reading people. Something he must have picked up in the whole century plus club." She swallowed, afraid to continue, but the confused look in her friend's face made her push forward. "Anyway, so he. I dunno. he called Oz."

"Spike. called Oz?" Xander asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Why? And Hunh?"

Willow giggled. "Don't ask me," she began, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I guess that he figured out that we were hesitating because we wanted to have our own baby, but we sorta had the wrong equipment to do it on our own."

"You should have asked," Xander whispered, his voice low. "I would have helped."

That made Willow laugh out loud, almost waking up the house. "Xan, I love you and all, but how were you going to help? I mean, you, family, baby. Wife. Relatively new. Problems abound."

"Takina would have. she would have understood," Xander whispered, his eyes dropping to the ground. Suddenly, it all fell together like one of the lightning bolts that had streaked overhead had struck him in the head, causing synapses to fire and two and two to equal four. "Oz?"

Willow sighed. "Spike apparently thought that we wanted our own kid. You were married off. he. well between possesso-Buffy and the whole sterility with anyone but the Slayer question.. And then Giles.."

Xander shuddered, causing raindrops to fly from the slicker like a dog shaking out his coat. "Okay, now EWWW."

"Exactly," Willow agreed, sharing the shudder. "Spike thought that we'd want someone we knew. That we trusted. I guess he talked to Buffy without really telling her and came up with Oz."

Xander was thoughtful a moment. "Single, cute, small, cuddly Oz who turns into a *wolf* once a month."

"Sort of redefines PMS doesn't it?" Willow joked, but Xander's face was still serious.

"He's a werewolf," Xander repeated. "That's gotta mean something."

Willow raised a brow, looking at Xander as if he'd grown an additional head. "I don't know if you noticed, but, um, Takina is of the demon variety. Anya...Vengeance Demon. Spike. Vampire."

"None of them have to get tied up at the full moon," Xander contributed half-heartedly, knowing he was defeated before he even started.

"Unless you count Spike, but I think Buffy does it only because he likes it," Willow joked, making Xander shudder like a wet dog once again.

"Okay, the kinky sex of my friends is not something I need to know about," Xander commented, as if he and Takina were minions of missionary only. That thought made him shudder all the more.

"Then you're going to *love* this," Willow chided, beginning to relax. The hard part was over. He hadn't walked away. "Tara and I. well. we couldn't decide. and she has *zero* experience with men."

Another lightning bolt struck Xander Harris and his eyes got huge and glassy. "Willow?" He almost gasped.

She blushed, her cheeks nearly as red as her hair. "Well, I don't want anyone touching my baby without me there to referee."

"Both of you?" Xander asked, torn between disgust and utter jealousy.

Willow nodded. "It doubles our chances and hopefully means we'll only have to do it once."

"I'm betting on Oz slipping some birth control pills in your carrot juice to prevent that," Xander joked, shaking his head. "Willow.I."

She sighed, letting her hand drop over his bare wrist. "He was right you know. About it all. In that annoying, Vampire sort of way."

"Spike?" Xander questioned.

Willow nodded, letting her head fall on Xander's shoulder. "We want this. We want our own baby. We want someone we know to be good, kind. to be the father. And Oz. he is all of those things and you know that."

She could feel him nod from her perch against his shoulder. "You could have gone for some height. You know. No potential basketball players coming out of this match."

"True," Willow chuckled, moving in closer. "But magically adept musicians aren't bad."

"No," Xander answered, lifting her chin with a gentle hand. "They aren't."

The tears began to well up behind Willow's eyes again, but this time, they were tears of relief. "So. you .. you understand?'

"Yeah," he answered, holding her gaze in his. "I get it." He was quiet this time, the rain still pounding overhead and bouncing off the wood all around him. "I just want you to be happy, Willow. That's all I have ever wanted from you. I'm sorry that I didn't see it sooner." The fact that Spike did was crawling under his skin. He wasn't sure whether or not to pummel the Vampire or to thank him for bailing out his best friend.

"It's okay," Willow answered, returning her gaze to the sky. "You know, if it had been different."

"If what had?" Xander asked, looking at a beautiful, almost pink trail through the clouds.

"Things. Life," she answered, following the same pink streak. "If everything had been different, I would have wished it had been you."

Xander was silent, turning towards Willow, watching her turn towards him. There was something deeper than love there. Something stronger and wilder and older than anything either of them would ever find outside of each other. A different love. Not one of marriage and babies and happily ever after. But one of peace and reliability and constancy. One that would never go away.

He nodded, swallowing, his eyes filling with tears of their own. "Really?"

"Yeah," she answered, swallowing a sob. "I can't think of a kinder, better man, Xander. I can't think of anyone I would have rather . that Tara and I."

He smiled nodding once again, wiping a tear from her cheek. It was too much. Too much to say. "But would I have gotten both of you at once?" He joked through the tears, winking.

Willow batted his arm playfully, knowing how he really felt. "Don't know if you're up for the task, Xander. All old and married."

He humph'd, batting her back and settling her into his shoulder. "Not sure if I should take the boy out and have a little party for him, or send him off to nap until the big night," Xander commented, sitting comfortably with Will under his arm.

"Let him sleep," Willow answered. Xander shot her an evil eye. "I mean. b.because he needs to do it right the first time, right? Not because he'll need any extra energy for anything."

Xander shuddered, this time half-heartedly. "Okay, what was I saying about the kinky sex lives of my friends?"

She giggled, snuggling against the undersized raincoat. "I love you, Xander."

Xander smiled, kissing the top of her wet head. "I love you too, Will. And I'm happy for you."

"Really?" She asked, pulling away enough to look at his face.

Again, he smiled, "Really."

To be contd.

Title: Pipe Dreams (Chapter Twenty-Six of The One)

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 . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .

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: Giles and Spike have a back porch discussion on what is happening and what's to come.

Pipe Dreams

He awoke slowly. Painfully. His entire body achy and tired. Still, he knew he had to rise. Knew there was something he had to do before she came back to herself. Hopefully.

She was curled against him, sleeping quietly, her eyelashes curled against golden skin looking so innocent and so sweet. It was a stark contrast to the night before. In the dim room, she looked like a slightly larger version of Emma. His golden goddess. His world.

Spike disentangled himself from her sleeping form, sliding off the bed and grabbing the phone in one, quick, almost silent movement. He pulled on his jeans and walked to the bathroom on bare feet, running his hands through his hair and feeling every muscle in his body scream in protest. Before she rolled again in her sleep, burrowing into his vacated warm spot, he was shutting himself in the bathroom and making the call.

"Magic Box!" A too chipper, female voice answered. His head groaned at the sound.

"Anya, I need to speak to Rupert," Spike said gruffly, his voice more gravely for the damage inflicted the night before.

There was a pause. "Are you okay? I mean, Rupie told me that."

"Now, Anya," Spike growled with uncharacteristic annoyance. "Please," he amended before she could be completely put off. He'd apologize properly later.

"Sure," she muttered, the phone brushing against the material of her slacks as she lowered it and walked into the back. "Rupert?" She held the phone out silently, and spun on a heel when her lover took it with a curious look and a shrug.

"Hello?" The older man's voice was full of concern, knowing what the call was about even prior to receiving it. Years of being a Watcher. The premonitions became contagious.

"It's time," Spike whispered. "Tonight."

There was silence on the other end. "Where is she?"

"Asleep," Spike answered, his voice barely audible. He didn't want to take the chance that her hearing had become more advanced to go with the rest of her newly acquired traits.

"What. what happened?"

"Not here, Rupert," Spike whispered. "Come to the house."

Spike could almost hear the Watcher nod. "Right then. Is she.?"

"She's herself at the moment. But I can't take chances with them." Spike's voice wavered at the last few words, tears running to his eyes. "Please tell me I'm right to do this."

"You are," Giles agreed. "You can't take chances with them. Peacemaker or no, prophesy or no, they are your children, Spike. Buffy's children. If you think that she is a danger to them, she would want you to."

"Please," Spike pleaded. "Come."

"Right then," Giles answered, pausing to rub his glasses on his shirttail. "I'll be there in an hour. Shall I be ready then to...?"

"No," Spike answered, his voice filling with tears. "Tonight. When we leave for patrol. Then. For now, just help us suss this out, Rupert. Please. I need her."

"I'll be there shortly," Giles answered, his tone confident. "And we will get her back."

~~~~~
Spike sat on the porch, a plume of smoke escaping out of the corner of his mouth as he exhaled. The cigarette didn't taste quite as good as he had remembered, but there was something comforting about the motion. About bringing it to his lips and taking a deep breath, and then pulling it down again as he blew the trail of smoke over bruised and parched lips.

Tara had taken the kids out to breakfast. He'd asked her to bring them back in a few hours and to please lay low for the rest of the day. The Witches had to stay to watch the spell, but Spike thought it only fair that Buffy had some time with the little ones while she still. while she knew what it was to be their mum.

The back door opened and closed with a click and solid, sturdy footsteps crossed the wooden deck to the stairway. Spike didn't turn. He didn't have to to know.

"I haven't seen you do that in quite some time," the familiar voice said as it approached. The voice was comfort. Warmth. The only one who seemed to know the magnitude of what it meant to be both human and in charge of saving the world, even if he'd never done it himself. Spike let the sound wrap around him like a blanket.

"Felt like I needed to," Spike answered, half -heartedly.

"Buffy will be disappointed," Giles answered, sitting down next to Spike on the stairwell, an identical plume of smoke filling the air with the smell of cherry and vanilla. Spike turned his head to the source. Giles sat, his teeth working a pipe as he smoked quietly.

Spike smiled. "Can't say I've ever seen you with a smoke, Watcher."

"It's only recently, since I've been ensconced with Anya," Giles answered, smiling wryly. "Felt like I needed to."

Again, Spike smiled. "How is your bird?"

Giles chuckled. "She's. wonderful and terrifying and perfect and utterly insane," he replied, his face lighting up with joy. "I'm not quite sure what I'd do without her."

"Don't ever try it, Mate," Spike commented, turning his face to the tree line and taking another long drag from the cigarette.

"I plan not to," the Watcher confirmed, leaning his elbows to his knees. They were silent for a long moment before Giles spoke again. "I have to say, Spike, you look like hell."

Spike chuckled, tossing the butt to the ground and reaching out with one long leg to squash it with the heel of his boot. "Felt better."

Giles leaned forward, taking in the battered landscape of the Vampire's face. The white gauze on his neck. "May I?" He asked, reaching for the gauze.

The Vampire put his hands up in a gesture of submission, allowing the Watcher to peel away the tape. The look on Giles' face said it all. He winced as the white bandages were pulled partially away from the wound. "How nasty?"

"It's quite. it's not a Vampire bite," Giles articulated, trying to pull the covering back over the ragged wound.

"B'coz she's not a Vampire," Spike answered, his voice torn between anger and hurt. "She's.Buffy."

Giles nodded, understanding the statement. "She did that unprovoked?"

Spike shook his head vehemently. "No. Got it all wrong. I encouraged her to feed."

A shocked look overtook the Watcher's features. "Spike, for Heaven's sake, *why*?"

Another cigarette found its way from the pocket of his duster into his mouth. Giles leaned over to light it for him. "She needed to feed. The demon. wasn't going to give her any choice."

Giles nodded, trying to accept that. "Why not pig's blood?"

"Tried that," Spike answered, staring off at the trees. "She spilled it. Wasn't time to fetch a new batch."

Again, the Watcher sat, thinking. There was more to it, Spike just wasn't ready to spill. So, he waited. One thing about being a Watcher is that one learns patience. A Waiter would have been just as apropos a title.

Spike sighed. "It's always the blood," he finally began. Giles had to smile, feeling one of Spike's prosaic speeches starting. It reminded him of a time the two of them had not understood each other and thought themselves on opposite sides of the fence. Now they were as good as brothers. Or father and son. United by the one girl that both of them loved.

"Knew that the transfer did something to our insides. I can feel this bloody light burning inside of me. Making my blood.warm. Stupid, sodding, imposing little sense of right and wrong the girl has," Spike continued, fingering the bandages on his neck. Giles nodded, trying not to grin again, and watched the Vampire sigh, shrugging. "Feel it in my veins, her Slayer. Nearly as pushy as my demon. Just a different feel. Foreign, but not. Like I've known it all along, just never had to deal with it before. Like an annoying in-law."

That, Giles had to laugh at. Spike even cracked a smile at the implication. "Know one or two of those, do you?" The Watcher asked.

"My bloody share," Spike agreed, nodding. "Even if they aren't by blood."

"Just the same," Giles confirmed, leaning back so his elbows touched the deck behind them. "So, you thought that if you fed her.."

Spike nodded. "That I could give her back her light," he continued. "Her Slayer."

"Not bad," the Watcher commented, blinking up at the early afternoon sun. "Did it work, may I ask?"

Spike sighed. "Temporarily. Had a few nasty side affects."

"The not artistically pleasing hole in your throat," Giles enumerated.

Spike nodded. "Not to mention that she didn't. she couldn't."

"Stop," Giles finished for him. "Spike, I wish you'd have told me what you had planned to do. I would have been there. I would have..."

"First off, Mate," Spike began, "She'd have had you for supper at that point. Second, there wasn't any time between her spilling the pig's blood and my . donation. And third." The Vampire stopped, thinking about how to say the rest.

"Third?" Giles repeated.

"Yeah, well," Spike shrugged. "Biting is rather. it's erotic. and."

For the second time, Giles winced. "I think you can stop there. I've got the picture. And then a few others I didn't need."

"You asked," Spike said, nonchalantly, taking another drag from the cigarette.

"Yes, yes," the Watcher agreed, his face looking much like that of a man who had sucked on a rancid piece of meat. It made Spike positively giddy. Embarrassing the Watcher had become a pastime between himself and Anya. "Back to the crux of the matter. You said this was temporary?"

Spike's face returned to seriousness, his eyes returning to the tree line. "Yeah." His voice was quiet now, pensive. "While I was out, Buffy came to me. In my mind. Gave me this potion. She got it from the fairies."

"The fey are back?" The Watcher asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Don't think they ever left, Mate," Spike corrected. "They watch Emma."

Giles nodded. "Did she. Was."

"Emma came," Spike continued for him. "Well, the Peacemaker. Have to differentiate, as the girl who comes to us in dreams is not quite Emma. Older. More."

"Ancient," Giles finished. "I understand"

Spike shuddered. "She's so beautiful. Such a good little tot. But it is rather eerie seeing her all grown up in my head every time things get rough, you know? Like the sheep watching after the shepherd."

The Watcher smiled. "That's her duty, just as protecting her is yours."

"And Buffy's," Spike added, looking back at the Watcher. "What are we going to do, Rupert? Blood's only good for thirteen hours. She'll be. she'll be. by sundown."

Giles's eyes filled with compassion. "Spike, I'm quite sure we'll find a way to return her to herself. Just have faith." He paused, thinking a moment. "Did Emma say anything in regards to the imbalance of the One?"

"Love always wins," Spike muttered, tossing yet another cigarette butt onto the concrete and stubbing it out with the heel of his boot. "Wish it was as simple as that, though."

Giles took a draw off the pipe, making the air smell sweet with cherry and vanilla. It reminded Spike of his father. Not the monster Gwydion had become. But Henry Windsor. Devoted husband. Loving father. Friend. "Maybe it is. Has she ever led you astray in the past?"

Spike thought for a moment. "Peacemaker's got a knack for being right."

"Then trust her now. Not to say we won't work on something a bit more concrete in the meantime, but trust in what she told you and let it see you through."

The Vampire took a long look at the Watcher. "You think that'll do Rupert? Loving her is enough?"

"It's a start," Giles responded, earnestly. "More to the point is her loving you. Loving her kids. Loving her life."

Again, Spike fell silent, his eyes falling to his knees. "I'd like to think she does. Like to think I make her happy."

The Watcher burst into laughter at that, nearly dropping his dangling pipe from his lips. Spike looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't realize I'd become comic relief."

Giles tried to stifle another round of chuckles. "That's just. Spike. that's amusing."

"What?" The Vampire asked with indignation.

"You honestly think that if you didn't make Buffy happy, you'd have been spared becoming the filler for an ashtray by now? If not by my hand, then by Dawn's, or better yet, hers?"

Spike smiled. "I'd have thought the whelp would be the first to have a crack at it."

"He's a bit blustery," Giles replied, still chuckling. "Lots of words, but very little to back it up."

"Gotten better on the backing up of late," Spike defended, a shocked look spreading over his features as the question of *why* he was defending Xander Harris crossed his mind.

The Watcher agreed. "Far better. But the fact remains. If any of us thought that you didn't make Buffy happy, if you weren't good for her or those children, one of any number of us would have shuffled you from this . relatively.mortal coil."

Spike nodded. "So, I've passed?"

"Long ago."

"Good to hear," the Vampire replied, turning his head to the sky. "Gotta wake her up soon. She should spend the day with the mites. In case."

Slowly, Giles laid a hand on the Vampire's shoulder, catching his attention. Spike's eyes glittered at the Watcher in the sunlight. "We'll get her back. No doubts."

Spike fingered the bandages as his neck again, nodding reluctantly. "But will she be the same?"

The Watcher furrowed his brow, studying Spike. "I'm not certain."

"Will she remember this?" Spike asked, his hands still on the bandages. "Will she remember what it feels like to be the demon? To feed? Bloodlust?"

"I don't know," Giles answered, dropping his hand back to his lap. "But if she does, we'll help her through."

"Will she forgive herself?" Spike asked, his face so serious it hurt the Watcher just in its depth.

"Can you forgive her, Spike?" The question was honest, although he already knew the answer. If there was one lesson the rest of them could learn from Spike, it was how to forgive.

"That's rot," Spike humphh'd. "Nothing to forgive her for. Did what she had to do. I did what I had to do. Had to bring her back. Not really a criminal offense, that."

"Then you'll just have to help her forgive herself," Giles comforted, patting Spike's shoulder again. "She's strong. Resilient."

"But she is what she despises most," the Vampire admitted, making his heart twinge in his chest. It killed him to realize that she was suffering through her worst thought. "She's her own worst nightmare."

Giles shook his head. "No, Spike. Her worst nightmare is losing you. Her kids. Us. We haven't gone anywhere. As long as we're here, as long as you're here, she'll recover."

The Vampire nodded. "Think I need to wake her. Give her time with the kiddies. Red's in the basement with Oz, working on the spell. Believe Dawn's front porch watching."

"I'll go down with them and see if we can make some headway into the pawn and ways to break the spell. We'll be sure to afford you both some privacy." The Watcher stood, lending a hand down to Spike and helping him to his feet. "You still want me to take them?"

Spike nodded, a tremble starting in the base of his spine. "Yes. Once Buffy and I've left for patrol, have Anya take them somewhere. Not your house. Don't tell me where unless it's dire, all right? She can get in my head and I'm quite sure she'll be right ticked when she realizes they're gone."

The Watcher nodded. "Will you be all right?"

"I'll manage," Spike comforted with what little he had left to offer. "I love her. "

"I know," Giles answered, opening the door. "We'll take care of the little ones."

Spike nodded. "Keep them safe."

To be contd.

Title: Missing You (Chapter Twenty-Seven of The One)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

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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 explains the meaning of Buffy's actions the prior evening. They spend one last day with the kids before the cure wears off and The One's future becomes uncertain.
Missing You
Buffy snuggled against the warm body habitually as it stretched on the bed next to her. Burying her face in his chest. Letting her arms tangle through his. Pushing her body as close as she could without becoming one. He smiled, feeling her hair tickle his bare chest. Buffy. The girl that would give him his beginning and his end and every moment in between.

"Got to wake up now, Love," Spike whispered, kissing the crown of her head. She hummed in response, a small smile breaking on her lips and her body scooting impossibly closer. He could feel his own betray him, warming to her touch. This was hardly the time. Spike willed control and managed it. Barely.

"C'mon, Pet. "It was like bending steel to be so close to her, to smell her smell and feel her body so warm next to his and not touch her. Not comfort her. Not be with her. But she needed to see the kids. She needed to be their mum today more than he needed to spend her remaining hours tangled in pooled sweat and joyous pleasure. Spike chuckled at himself. Never thought he could be that altruistic.

"Five more minutes, "she muttered, her small hands roaming his body in her half slumber. "Yummy Vampire."

Spike shook his head and chuckled. Wondered if she was just making her typical remark or if she liked her little taste of him last night. He knew it was the former, but the latter wasn't really a bad thing either in his own little Vampire mind. "No, Pet. Rise and shine."

Green eyes flickered lazily open and pretty coral lips spread in a feline smile. "Do I hafta?"

"Umhmm," Spike hummed, kissing her forehead. "Emma and Will want to see you."

Her face became very serious as she traced circles on his chest. "Are they okay?"

"Fine, Love, why?" Spike answered, smoothing her hair down her back. The memories of the night before came crashing down on her. He felt it like a piano dropping from a skyscraper and falling into her tired mind. "They don't know, Love. They're fine."

Buffy's eyes fluttered up to his throat, her fingers tracing the bandages. "Is it bad?"

"Half way to healed," Spike answered, smiling softly. It was a lie. Slayer healing, which seemed to be his top shelf brand at the moment, was not quite up to speed with its Vampire counterpart. It was healing, but not as fast as it would have before this had happened.

"Really?" Buffy asked, hopeful.

"Be fine, Pet," Spike comforted, pulling Buffy onto his chest, her cheek pressed to his. "Just fine." Softly, his lips pressed against hers. Buffy stiffened at first, fear and guilt closing around her like a vice. But the feather softness of his hands on her back, the sweetness of his lips pressed to hers, the small sounds of comfort sliding from his throat like warm dark chocolate, relaxed her. Spike was still hers. She was still his. This wouldn't change it.

Nothing would.

"You up for 'Meet the Kiddies'? Think they'd like to spend a little time with their mum," Spike whispered, his lips brushing to hers as his mouth formed the words.

"Yeah," Buffy answered, smiling against his skin. "Where are they?"

"Glinda took them for breakfast. Be back shortly. Thought you'd want a little time to."

Buffy pulled her face away enough to look into his eyes. "You promise me that you don't hate me?"

Spike raised an eyebrow, blue pools full of the same look of love and adoration that they always possessed. Never changing. Constant. In battle, in bed, making dinner, changing a diaper, beating the hell out of a demon or slamming them through an abandoned house, those eyes were always the same. Love. "Never could. Never want to. No regrets," Spike answered simply.

Buffy nodded, trying to accept that. Trying to hold back the tears. She leaned forward, placing a small kiss on the bandages over his throat. He closed his eyes and groaned. Quickly, she drew her head away.

"Oh, God, did that hurt?" Buffy asked, mortified, scrambling back.

His hands shot up, grabbing her bare shoulders and pulling her back down to him. "No, Love," Spike answered with a wicked grin. "Shouldn't have done that, though."

Her face was shocked, nervous, guilt ridden, her eyes pooling with tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so."

Before she could complete the sentence, his lips closed over hers again, drinking her in, drowning in her. "You shouldn't have done that," Spike growled, nearly breathless, "because you marked me. You made me yours again, Pet. Claimed me back. Your lips against it."

Her eyes grew wide. "I what?"

Spike blinked, not sure of how much to tell her. "When you bit me, Buffy, we were."

A twinge went through her. A good twinge. She remembered exactly what they had been doing at the time. "Yeah," she whispered, her chin resting against his.

"You love me," he continued, matter of factly. It made her smile. About time he got it through his thick skull.

"Yeah," she confirmed.

"So, even though the words weren't said, the claim was remade," Spike said hesitantly, hoping she would see that for what it was. Beautiful. Meaningful. Important. Maybe she could see the good in the horror that would plague her about last night.

Buffy didn't speak, making his heart pound in his chest. She was going to panic. He could feel it. Her hands slid slowly to his bandage, peeling the gauze from the skin and studying the jagged, healing wound in his neck. Her brow furrowed and she winced as her fingers traced the edges. Spike's heart beat faster, terrified that she would lose it. Seeing the damage would wound her even more. He could feel her mind process the horror of it, the guilt clamping down again. He held her tighter.

"Buffy?" Spike asked, watching her emerald eyes begin to spill silent tears, her fingers as soft as silk against his neck.

She looked at him. Studied his face for a moment, before returning her eyes to the mark. Slowly, reverently, she leaned down and nuzzled the whole skin around it, making his eyes roll back and his body stiffen with lust and love. A small, pink tongue darted out and began to lap the edges of the wound, sealing it, cleaning it, and possessing it. Once she had worked her way over ever inch of skin, she stopped, looking at his darkened eyes for a moment, and then turning her attention back to the wound. Slowly, gingerly, she placed her mouth over it, and then kissed it softly.

"Mine," she murmured against his skin.

His body tightened like a piano wire at her claim, every muscle becoming hard and drawn to her. Spike's glazed eyes grew wide, looking down at her small, perfect face, watching her caress the wound with mouth and fingers, all the while, her soft breath whispering "mine" over and over again into his skin.

"Yours," Spike repeated, his voice almost too breathy to hear over the emotion. She had done it. She had let herself succumb, willingly, to the Vampire long enough to give him the one thing that she could have never given as a human. The marks they had had always gone both ways, but the symbolism of this was not lost on him. She'd let herself be what she never wanted to be long enough to give him what he'd wanted from her.

Buffy looked up at him and smiled. "I need to shower."

Those were words he hadn't expected after something so intimate.

"O...okay, Love," Spike stuttered, body thrumming with lust and adoration.

She lifted herself off of him slowly, the thin muscles of her fit body rippling under golden peach skin. Feline in every way. Her wicked smile had not left her face as she placed a parting kiss on his neck, making his body shudder. "Mine."

"Yours," he repeated, completely, in every way, at her mercy.

Her naked body slid gracefully to its feet on the floor, standing next to the bed. She extended her hand to him. "I didn't mean alone," she whispered, devilish smile growing.

Spike returned it, a newfound adoration glittering in the perfect blue of his eyes. "Do you. You understand.?"

"Come with me," Buffy purred, pulling him to his feet. "Not much time and I want to spend a few minutes alone with you."

Spike wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her ear. "Want more than a few minutes."

"Come with me," she purred again.

~~~~~

Buffy sat on the living room floor, laughing hysterically while Will tried to chase Emma but kept falling off balance because of the cast. Spike must have shot his hand out a hundred times to steady the boy, but he persisted despite the giant yellow roadblock to his success. That made Spike smile. Watching it was like watching what he went through chasing Buffy for all of those years.

There was no doubt. Temporary or not, the cure had worked. Spike hadn't tried to take her outside, but she sat in a patch of sunlight, now tackled by her son and rolling on the floor in mock defeat, the daylight making her hair glisten like spun gold and the smile making her look as young as the first moment they had met. When he saw her dancing. She was beautiful. Always. His golden goddess.

The kids had been a brilliant idea. Her mood had changed in just the few hours she had been awake from sullen and afraid, to vixen, to perfectly content. His Buffy. Always moody and just the way he liked her.

The thought struck him as the two tots curled around their mum on the floor, sleepy from what seemed to be a huge breakfast courtesy of the good Witch and an hour of heavy play, that this may be it. He tried to shake it from his mind, but like a virus, it returned. There were no guarantees in life. Especially not in theirs. Nothing that said that this *would* end and that they would have another afternoon like this. It could be the last. Could be the last time he could see his sleepy tots snuggle into her and her laying there smiling like the world was all right.

It would be all right again.

Had to be.

If not, he'd feed her every night. Give her every day. Take it. Take the torture. Teach her to be. Make it okay again.

But he just really wanted Buffy back. He never realized that the frailty of her humanity was nearly as important to her, to his, existence as the Slayer. More. It was that frailty, that humanity, that had reminded him how real love, the love of ages and lifetimes and quiet moments in the sunshine, was supposed to be. He'd always had the capacity to love. Truly. Madly. Deeply. But her humanity was what made that love constant and steady and just as real making breakfast as it was making love.

Spike had to have that back. Had to make it right.

"Think I tired them out," Buffy whispered, the smile still stretched across soft coral lips.

Spike shook his head. "What, Pet?"

Her eyebrow quirked. "You OK? Got all Far Away Man on me."

He chuckled although it only came out a short exhale. "Just got lost watching you, Love. Won't happen again."

Her smile broadened. "I like it when you look like that."

Spike eased off the couch and stretched out on the floor next to her, sandwiching a drowsy Emma between them. William was curled like a cat on her other side, yellow arm draped haphazardly over his mum. "Why's that?" Spike asked, leaning in to find her cheek.

Buffy closed her eyes, savouring the feel of his lips against hers. "You look all dreamy and poetic."

He rolled his eyes. "William the First flashbacks, Pet?"

"You do have a lot of him in you. Whether or not you like to admit it," she chided, nuzzling her cheek against his nose. "What were you thinking about?"

"You," Spike answered. She rolled her head, her eyes inches from his.

"What about me?"

Spike sighed, knowing this would just add fuel to the waxing poetic fire. "What I love about you."

Buffy smiled. "More of him than you'll ever admit," she taunted playfully.

"That's enough outta you, Love," Spike responded, nipping her nose. "Or I'll have to remind you of the rest of the package later."

A sly grin broke across her features. "Not a punishment. I.uh. like your package."

"Naughty Slayer," he grinned, planting his lips softly against hers. She sighed into his mouth.

"Wish we could have more days like this. Kinda miss the whole domestic bliss what with the Slaying and the saving the World and suddenly getting all Vamp-ish."

He kissed her again. "Lots of days like this to come, Love," Spike encouraged, despite his own fears. "Many even better. Some a bit worse."

Buffy sighed. "That's life, I guess."

"Ours," Spike chuckled. "Got a bit more excitement than your run of the mill existence."

She shrugged. "Better than your run of the mill life anyway. I mean, we get all the comforts of regular people moments mixed in with the fun and excitement of Prophesies and Apocalypses. What more could a girl want?"

Again, Spike chuckled. "I couldn't ask for better."

"Do you." She paused, trying to think of the right words. "Do you... I mean. never mind."

"Ask, Love. Think you know that I'd pretty much answer anything," Spike prodded. "If for no other reason that I love the sound of my own voice."

Buffy chuckled loudly making Emma stir next to her. Spike stroked the little girl's arm and she drifted back off, her back pressed to her father's chest and her arm draped over her mum, just above Will's. "Sorry, just. well, true."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Just ask."

Buffy took a deep breath. "You. You've lived a long time. Almost a bunch of different lives. I mean, first you were William. Then William the Bloody. Spike, Scourge of Europe. Spike of Sunnydale." She giggled, having a vision of a little Spike skipping through the tulips in pigtails. He rolled his eyes, feeling the image and groaning.

"To the point, this millennium, Pet," Spike pushed.

"Oh, yeah," Buffy continued, still giggling. "Anyway, now you're all Captain Suburbia, William Windsor. Husband. Father of two. Driving the nice middle class SUV to the supermarket for diapers."

Spike cringed, thinking of how domestic his life had become, and then smiled, thinking how much he loved where he was at this moment. "Your point," he prodded again, this time with less impatience.

"So," she went on, hesitantly, "Do you miss it?"

"Miss what, Love?" Spike asked, tucking Emma more comfortably against him and moving closer to Buffy.

"Any of it? Your other lives? Victorian England.?"

"Full of poncy poofs and I was a hopeless git. Don't miss a thing," Spike blurted to Buffy's amusement.

"Spike and Dru burn and pillage Europe?" Buffy asked, finding his hand with hers.

"Think of it as Vampire, the Teenage Years, Pet," Spike commented. "Blowing off steam. Rebelling. Fell in with the wrong crowd."

Buffy smiled. "Chipped Spike of Sunnydale?"

"Other than the obvious disgust with the mental images that that conjures, wasn't all that bad considering I was a leashed puppy getting kicked by its master. " Buffy frowned as the words slid from his mouth. "But, least she was a pretty master doing her job and she came round." His hand caressed her face, and she knew she had been wrong. More than that, she knew she had been forgiven.

"You know, I'm sorry."

Spike cut off that train to guilt with a soft kiss. "Had to be that Vampire to get to now. Don't mind a moment."

She was silent, watching the honesty swirl around in his eyes with the love and the adoration. There were more emotions in one blink of his long eyelashes than there were in many people's entire lives. "So, do you miss any of it?"

His brow furrowed. "You asking me if I'd rather be in any of those places, doing any of those things, rather than be here?"

Buffy nodded, biting her bottom lip. "Yeah."

"No," he answered swiftly and surely. "Not a minute. Not a second. Doesn't cross my mind."

"It has to cross your mind," Buffy whispered, her face almost flush to his now, her breath blowing softly against his mouth.

Spike shook his head, his nose rubbing hers. "It doesn't, honestly. Don't want to be anywhere else. Don't regret anything that happened before. Don't want to change it back because everything that happened brought me to you. Brought me here. Gave me your love and gave me the tots. How could I, in a million years, ever want to change a thing? I'd die again to save this life."

Tears pooled in her eyes. "But if you died, then you wouldn't get to live it."

Again, his palm caressed her cheek, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. "Not planning on it, Love. But I'd rather die here, in this life; with you then have to go back to any other. And I'd rather be looking down on you knowing that you were still living it, than to let you down again."

"You never let me down," Buffy choked out, tears starting to spill. "You never."

"Shh, Pet," Spike comforted, kissing the trail of a tear down her cheek. "Don't look back. Got too much ahead. Mites growing up. School. Panic over the whole teenage experiment. First dates and proms and college and that horrid day when. I can't even say it."

A smile broke through Buffy's tears. "What?"

A huge, stage sigh erupted from Spike's mouth. "No, no. It's too rancid to even think."

"What?" Buffy asked, pushing his chest gently with the palm of her hand.

Again, Spike sighed. "That horrid day when we become in laws to the Harris clan."

Buffy burst into giggles, shaking her head. "Now that's a nightmare. Worse than any apocalypse."

"No need to tell me, Love," Spike groaned. "Have to be nice to the git so as not to hurt River's feelings."

"Ooh, and what if they had kids? They'd be all genetically mixy with you and me and Xander and Takina."

Spike shuddered at that thought. "Right then, time to clean out the old brain. Got some naughty video upstairs, care to join?"

Buffy chuckled, batting him again. "You always can make me laugh. You always bring me back."

"Selfish, really," Spike replied, settling back in next to her.

"How?"

"Like you," he answered, nuzzling her ear. "Love you."

"Always?"

"Every day."

To be contd.

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