Title: The F.G.U.
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS characters belong to me.
Feedback: Oh, pleeeeze!
Summary: Just a little whimsy. I was feeling kind of silly when I wrote it. Don't want to reveal too much.



Part one....

~~~~~
"Suddenly...suddenly it happens
And your dream comes true..."
~~~~~

"Excuse me, dear? I really must have a word with you. Do wake up now, please. I AM on a schedule, you know?"

Buffy's eyes flew open wide, and she sat up so abruptly that the woman standing next to her bed was startled into taking a step back. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded. "And why the hell are you in my room?"

"I know," the woman replied with a shrug. "I'm terribly late, but I've just been swamped lately. " She sighed deeply. "I'm quite exhausted."

Buffy watched as the intruder sank back into a chair that she'd never seen before in her life, let alone in her room. Wondering where on earth it had come from, she studied the woman carefully, in case she had to provide a description for Giles.

Her "guest" was on the short and plump side. There was a pair of half-spectacles hanging on a chain around her neck. Her floor length dress was white, with tiny specks of silver glitter in the weave. It had long sleeves, buttoned at the wrists and a lacy collar.

The woman's cheeks had a rosy glow that accented her bright blue eyes, and her white hair was pinned up into a neat bun.

She looked like someone's grandmother, and despite the violent awakening she'd just had, Buffy couldn't sense any 'evil aura' permeating the room.

"Relax, dear," the woman urged, smiling slightly. "I left my evil aura at home tonight."

Buffy's jaw sagged. "How did you...?"

"It's part of my job. Now...let's get down to business, shall we? I don't have a great deal of time."

Buffy didn't respond to the words. Her eyes were riveted on something in the old lady's lap.

It was a rod, about fifteen inches long. Made of glass, she could see tiny gold and silver stars glittering inside of it.

"Is...is that a...?" she stammered. "That's not a..."

"A magic wand? Yes. Sort of a tool of my trade," the woman said matter-of-factly. "Quite emblematic, I can assure you," she added. "I don't need it, but people seem to expect it of me and they're always so disappointed when I don't produce one."

"Is that a fact?" Buffy asked.

"Indeed," the old lady confirmed. "I always feel so perfectly horrible, as though I've trampled all over their childhood fantasies, the poor dears."

With an amused shrug, she reached down and picked up a large tapestry bag....something else that Buffy was certain had not been there a moment ago.

Curious, she watched in expectant silence as the woman rummaged around in the bag, then produced a clipboard with a piece of paper on it.

The woman squinted at the paper for a moment, muttered, "Oh, bother" under her breath, then put on her spectacles.

"Much better," she said briskly. "Now...you are Buffy Summers?"

Buffy nodded. "Uh-huh."

The woman stared at her for a moment, shaking her head. "Uh-huh?" she repeated. "Apparently, they're no longer teaching proper grammar in school."

The comment made Buffy feel like a tenth grader failing English. "Yes," she amended. "I'm Buffy Summers."

"Much better," the old lady beamed. Using a pen that was chained to the clipboard, she began writing something down, speaking under her breath. "Yes..yes...oh, definitely..."

It looked to Buffy as though items were being checked off on a list.

"Yes...yes...certainly NOT...yes...well, we'll fudge a little on this one..."

Buffy couldn't stand it. "What are you doing?"

"Hmmm?" The woman looked up. "You mean this?" she asked, indicating the clipboard. "It's tiresome, I know, but I'm required to fill out all the paperwork or things will be tied up forever in bureaucratic red tape. It's not like the old days, when all you had to do was
check in for your assignment. Now, there are forms and everything is computerized, and I know nothing about those wretched machines except that using them always throws me off schedule."

"You sound like a friend of mine," Buffy said, unable to suppress a smile. "Giles...."

"Doesn't think much of computers either, I know." Pulling a lace handkerchief from her sleeve, the old woman dabbed her forehead with it. "So...here I am, dashing about the world all willy-nilly, and trying to keep up. It's difficult for a woman my age."

Releasing a heartfelt sigh, she reached back into her bag and brought out a plate, offering it to Buffy.

"Have a cookie, dear?" she urged. "I made them myself."

It was at that precise moment that Buffy felt the last shred of suspicion slide away. Whoever or whatever she might be, this jolly looking old lady wasn't a demon. What kind of demon bakes cookies for it's intended victim?

Besides, they smelled fantastic.

With a huge smile, she selected a cookie, and her eyes widened in surprise. "They're warm!" she said delightedly. "Like they just came out of the..."

The woman's eyes twinkled in a manner that could only be described as "merrily".

Taking a bite of the cookie, Buffy's eyes rolled in ecstasy. "Peanut butter with chocolate chips! This is my..."

"Favorite cookie. I know."

Buffy's brow furrowed. "How," she asked around a mouthful of cookie, "did you know?"

"My dear, it's what I DO," the woman replied. "I know all of your favorites. Just because it took me a while to get here doesn't mean that I haven't been keeping my eye on you."

Buffy swallowed and reached for another cookie.

The moment she had her hand on one, the woman said, "All right, then...but we shall keep the rest of them for another time. Eating this late isn't at all good for you."

Staring at the woman in dismay, Buffy immediately picked up three of the cookies instead of one. "Okay," she said, holding them as though they might be snatched back. "Go ahead and put them away."

"Really, Buffy," the lady scolded, replacing the cookie in her bag.

"But, I'm hungry," Buffy said in defense of her gluttony. "I didn't eat much dinner tonight."

There was a pause, then the woman shook her head. "Oh, fine...go ahead. But do NOT forget to brush your teeth again before you go back to sleep. Cavities are quite opportunistic."

~~~~~
"Wonderfully, beautifully it happens
And your world is new..."
~~~~~

Rummaging around in her bag, she handed Buffy a small package containing a toothbrush and a box of dental floss.

"Oh, I already have a..."

"It's time for a new one, dear heart."

Buffy examined the package, surprised to see that there was no indication as to which company had produced it. It was a plain white box, with only one line of small print at the bottom; Toothbrush/Floss inspected by #12.

"Um...thank you," she said, still chewing. "Listen, you never told me how it is that you know all my favorite foods."

"Oh, I know a great deal more than that," the woman replied. She saw a skeptical look on Buffy's face. "Do you require proof?"

Buffy shrugged. "Well..."

There was another deeply put upon sigh. "Very well, then...here are a few of your favorite things, and no, I do not intend to sing them to you; The cookies you are currently stuffing yourself with, pizza, nearly anything made with chocolate, hamburgers, tacos, ice cream sundaes, string cheese, sour cream and onion flavored potato chips, some dreadful concoction known as 'Kool-Aid'..."

Buffy opened her mouth to speak.

"Cherry," the woman said, answering the question Buffy hadn't asked. "Now, if I may continue...where was I?"

"Kool-aid," Buffy ventured, finishing the last bit of cookie. "Cherry."

"Oh, yes," the old lady agreed. "Well, suffice it to say that your tastes in food are decidedly...eclectic, to be precise."

"What's that..."

"Do look it up, dear. It's what dictionaries were invented for."

Buffy was about to reply when a light switched on in the hallway outside her room. "That's my sister."

"Yes, I do believe it is," the woman replied.

Typically, Dawn walked in without knocking. With not so much as a raised eyebrow, she looked around the room. "I thought I heard you talking to someone."

Buffy was surprised, and it showed on her face.

"Well, yeah," she said, gesturing at her late night visitor, but it was quite clear that Dawn saw nothing out of the ordinary. "I was...sleep talking?"

Dawn nodded slowly. "Uh-huh."

"There, you see," the old woman scolded. "Your atrocious grammar is influencing your sister."

Buffy hesitated, watching Dawn's face for a reaction to the words.

"She cannot hear or see me, dear. Unless, of course, I wish her to."

"So, are you okay?" Dawn asked, yawning.

"Yeah...YES!" Buffy said quickly. "I'm fine. You go back to bed."

"Mm-kay...g'night."

"Good night," Buffy pronounced clearly. When the door closed behind Dawn, she flopped back onto the bed. "This is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me."

"I highly doubt that, dear," the woman said dryly.

********************


TBC.....

Part two....


~~~~~
"Magically, you're holding the
golden prize..."
~~~~~

Buffy sat back up. "Do you have a name?" The old woman's eyes widened comically, and
her mouth formed a perfect O. "Goodness! How dreadfully rude of me not to introduce myself. I simply don't know where my mind gets to at times." She extended one hand. "Abigail Potter. Mrs. Potter, if you please. So very happy to finally meet you, my dear."

Buffy returned the handclasp, pleasantly surprised at the warmth and softness of the small hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, too," she replied, calling up the manners her mother had worked so hard to drill into her head. "Can I...MAY I ask you another question?"

"Why certainly," Mrs. Potter smiled sweetly.

"What...I mean who...are you?"

Mrs. Potter gave her an appraising look. "Don't you know, dear? You're a fairly perceptive and intelligent young lady...when you want to be...and I've dropped more than one hint tonight."

Buffy shook her head, not prepared to say it herself. "Please just tell me."

The old lady sighed. "Oh, dear. I was afraid of this."

"Afraid of what?" Buffy frowned.

Mrs. Potter studied Buffy's face for a moment, silently.

"My dear child," she finally said. "You have a lamentable tendency to not see the obvious when it is as plain as the nose on your sweet face. Which, considering your occupation, is an odd character trait. You demand to have things spelled out to you in excruciating detail, when you are perfectly well aware of what you are seeing and hearing. " She sighed again. "And even when they ARE spelled out for you...you ignore, and you deny, and you
argue yourself into a state of positive inertia."

Standing up suddenly, she picked up her wand and waved it in a circle.

Buffy gasped at the sparkling and multi-hued rainbow thay was now arching across her bedroom from corner to corner. "Oh!"

Mrs. Potter snapped her fingers, and a shower of fragrant wildflowers cascaded down from the rainbow and landed on the bed. A flick of her hand produced a diamond tiara on the slayer's honey colored hair.

"Hold out your hand and close your eyes," she instructed.

Buffy obeyed without thinking twice, and felt a light touch on her palm. When she was told to open her eyes, she saw a tiny crystal horse and an all too familiarly shaped carriage...something she'd seen in countless childhood story books...perched in the middle of her hand.

"Now," Mrs. Potter said. "Are you ready to see, and to accept?"

Buffy smiled, her eyes shining like a brand new star. "You're a...a.."

"I am," the old lady nodded. "Now...say it."

The slayer took a deep breath. "A fairy godmother?"

With another wave of Mrs. Potter's hand, the room returned to it's original condition. Everything disappeared except for the crystal horse and coach. "For you to keep," she said with a smile.

The thing was so beautiful that Buffy's eyes nearly filled with tears. "Thank you," she said softly, placing it on her night stand.

"You're very welcome, dear," Mrs. Potter said. "Now," she continued, "any further questions?"

"Well...since you asked." **Only about a million....**

Mrs. Potter gave her an expectant look.

"Well, um...why were you assigned to me? I mean, was it one of those 'reach into a hat and choose a piece of paper with someone's name on it' kinda thingys?"

The woman sighed. "She never learns," she mumbled. "Why do I even bother?" Leaning back in the chair, she closed her eyes and massaged her temples. "Care to ask that question again, dear?"

Buffy's cheeks turned red. "Which question? The 'why were you assigned to me' one...or the 'kinda thingys' ?"

Mrs. Potter shook her head. "Never mind," she said wearily. "I'll save you the trouble." Sitting upright, she opened her eyes and pinned her gaze on Buffy's. "Make no mistake, my dear. I was NOT assigned to you. I requested you."

"How come? I mean, why?"

"Oh, I've been monitoring your case for quite some time now, and please allow me to say how very interesting it's been. Interesting AND entertaining as well. Such cliffhangers you have. Very exciting, dear. Very exciting, indeed."

"Glad I could help," Buffy muttered, picking at a loose thread on her blanket.

"My goodness, yes. Even I wondered what was going to happen next...and I already KNEW what was going to happen next."

Buffy stared at the woman. "Well, you might have mentioned it now and then," she said huffily. "Do you have any idea how many times I nearly died? That I DID die once? I drowned in a pool of dirty water. The world has almost ended so many times that you need a program to keep the apocalypses in order..."

Mrs. Potter listened calmly to Buffy's rant. "And yet, you're alive...and the world is still standing."

"Well...yeah," Buffy stammered. "That's true. But, still..."

"Still nothing, my dear." Mrs. Potter waved one hand impatiently. "If you don't know by now that you've been kept a close watch on...then you are quite beyond hope and I'm obviously wasting my time with you."

She gathered her bag up and began to rise to her feet.

Buffy felt awful, as though she'd been insufferably rude to a beloved grandmother...an impudent, mouthy child who needed to be set back a peg."

"Or two," Mrs. Potter murmured, straightening her sleeves.

Again, Buffy's cheeks flamed bright red. "I'm sorry. I really....I shouldn't have..."

Mrs. Potter cut her off with a sharply raised hand, then smiled sweetly. "I accept your apology, dear." Resettling herself in her chair, she said, "After all, you haven't had an ordinary row to hoe. Things have been difficult for you...as they were for all the ones who came before you. And you must know that there's only so much outside influence available to help you along your particular path. You're quite fortunate in that you already have a great deal of help right here alongside you."

Buffy nodded. That was true. No other slayer in the history of the profession had ever been able to rely on so many others, friends and family both.

"I know I'm lucky," she admitted. "My friends, and Giles, and....."

"Yes," Mrs. Potter said. "And HIM, as well. What a surprise THAT was, let me tell you."

"Oh, come on," Buffy grinned. "You didn't have a little bit to do with it? Being my fairy godmother and all?"

~~~~~
"Mystically, your castles begin to rise..."
~~~~~

"Well," Mrs. Potter said modestly, "not at first. Oh, after I was able to zero in on a few unexpressed feelings I picked up on, I may have given a slight nudge here and there, but the majority of the credit really goes to your beau."

Buffy looked surprised. "What about me?"

"You?" The old lady was nearly laughing out loud. "My dear child, I've never seen anyone so stubbornly determined to deny herself the very thing she wanted and needed most of all."

"Which was...?"

"Unconditional love, my heart. Complete, and total, and unquestioning...from someone who knows you to the very marrow of your bones. Someone who can deal with you on your own terms. Someone willing to put your needs first...which as you and I both know, no one has done before."

Buffy folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the headboard of her bed. "Someone who happens to be a vampire?"

Mrs. Potter shrugged. "Well, nobody's perfect. Besides, as soon as I began to realize which way the wind was blowing, I took care of that little problem...as best I could."

"Excuse me?" Buffy asked. "You...took care of..."

"I admit, I couldn't undo what had been done. That's simply not within my realm of power. So I...arranged for him to be in the right place, at the right time, and that nasty little band of cub scouts did the rest."

"Hoo, boy," Buffy muttered, shaking her head. "If he only knew."

"If he only knew...what?" Mrs. Potter demanded. "Let me tell you something, young lady. If he knew, he would thank me. He's extremely happy to be with you, and it's a trade he would make again willingly. You may depend upon that!"

Buffy knew the woman spoke the truth. Spike had said much the same thing many times.

"He most certainly has!" said Mrs. Potter, as though Buffy had spoken her thoughts out loud. "So, all's well that ends well. It was a bit of work for everyone involved, but that's always the way it is...because despite what they write in those stories for children, lasting love and happiness is never achieved by a mere snap of ones fingers."

She actually snapped her fingers for emphasis, and a Shetland pony with a large red bow around his neck appeared at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Potter exclaimed. "I do beg your pardon." An additional finger snap made the pony disappear. "That wish was left over from your sixth birthday," she said. "I
really must remember to update my files."

Buffy laughed. "So, it's YOUR fault I never got that pony."

"Yes. I'm afraid that, like most wishes, it was wonderful in theory but hardly practical in application." Sitting back in her chair, Mrs. Potter gave Buffy an appraising look. "However...your latest heart felt wish is every bit as wonderful in both theory and reality. In fact, it's so delightful that I had to come and deal with it personally."

Buffy's brow furrowed. Her latest heart felt wish? What could that be?

**What...stay alive a little longer? Hit all six numbers on the lottery? Not have to be the slayer anymore?**

No, it wasn't that. She'd come to terms with that long ago, and she hadn't wished that she was someone else in ages.

But, no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn't remember consciously making any wishes lately, heart felt or otherwise.

"That's true, you haven't," Mrs. Potter said. "You've been very good about that. But I've been tiptoeing around in your SUB-conscious, and I found what I was looking for in a place so deeply buried inside of you that you have absolutely no awareness of it's existence."

~~~~~
"Suddenly, dizzily you're spinning
with the thrill of life..."
~~~~~

There was a long pause.

"Are you gonna tell me what it is?" Buffy finally asked. "Or are we gonna play twenty questions?"

Mrs. Potter winced. "No, I am not GOING to tell you," she said. "Although it would serve you right if I told you it was a wish for better grammatical skills." She wagged a scolding finger. "Fortunately for you, the FGU has an ethics code, and we cannot..."

"The who?"

"The Fairy Godparent's Union," Mrs. Potter said. "We have a mandate that we all strictly adhere to, and the first item on that mandate is 'No tampering with wishes'."

She frowned briefly. "Or is it 'No personal business on company time' ? No, no...perhaps it's..."

"You were saying?" Buffy interjected, trying to ward off what sounded like a laundry list of rules and regulations.

"Oh, yes...quite. As I was saying...we cannot tamper with a wish, one expressed or kept secret...just to please ourselves. I mean, if we allowed that sort of behavior, then we'd never get anything done. Do you see my meaning?"

Buffy nodded. "Makes sense."

"Mind you, I can choose not to grant a wish," Mrs. Potter added. "But I cannot alter it."

"Okay,okay." Buffy was becoming impatient. "But what about MY wish? This one I have that I don't know about?"

"Oh, you know about it, dear. You're just hiding it so well that you cannot find it."

"Can you give me a hint?"

Her fairy godmother gave her a tender smile. "A hint? Well, I suppose I can. And I shall....soon."

Buffy's face formed the pout that usually got her anything she wanted from the man who loved her, but the expression was cutting zero ice with the lady seated before her. "When?"

"You'll know it when you see it," Mrs. Potter assured her, then sighed and rose to her feet, bag in hand. "I need to be running along now, dear."

"Oh, no!" Buffy protested. She glanced at her clock, surprised to see that it was still showing 1:00 A.M. "Hey!"

"I've been holding time," Mrs. Potter explained. "But it always takes so much out of me."

Buffy got up on her knees and reached for the old lady's hand. "Can't you stay just a little longer? There's so much I want to ask you."

Mrs. Potter shook her head kindly. "There will be time for all that later, dear heart," she said, squeezing Buffy's hand. "But, unless I'm mistaken...and I never am...someone will
be here to see you very soon, and I certainly wouldn't want to interfere in the course of true love." She gave Buffy a wink and a smile that almost made her look girlish. "Not tonight, at any rate," she added pertly.



TBC....

Part three....


~~~~~
"Suddenly, thirstily you're drinking
in your fill of life..."
~~~~~

Mrs. Potter stopped Buffy's protest by pulling her slightly forward.

"Goodbye, dear," she said, placing a grandmotherly kiss on the slayer's forehead. "And try not to worry too much.Things always have a way of working out, don't they?"

**Not always...**

"Always," Mrs. Potter said firmly, "You are going to have a long and happy life...and I shall be close beside you through it all. You may depend upon that."

Buffy nearly burst into tears at this gentle declaration. A long and happy life? Could that
possibly be true...for her?

She had long ago resigned herself to the fact that it just wasn't in the cards she'd been dealt. Slayers didn't die of old age, or from wasting diseases. They died in pain...and in blood...and in battle. It was a fact. Not a pleasant one, but it was still a fact. A slayer died young, and a new one was called at the moment of her death.

There was even a fancy, five dollar word for the concept; fungible. Being of such a nature that one part or quantity may be replaced by another equal part or quantity.

Replacable. Interchangeable. That's what she was. What all of them were.

But as much as she knew this to be an inescapeable fact, she looked up into Mrs. Potter's kindly eyes right now...and she believed.

Buffy squeezed the old lady's hand a little tighter. "But...I WILL see you again...won't I?"

"Oh, much sooner than you might expect," Mrs. Potter said cryptically. "And if you need me before that day comes, just hold the crystal in your hand and wish for it." She indicated the tiny horse and carriage. "Go ahead and try it out."

Buffy released her hand and reached for the crystal. Holding it carefully in her cupped hand, she thought for a moment. She closed her eyes, for no other reason than it was always the way she'd seen it done in movies, and made a silent wish.

There was an electronic chirp, and she opened her eyes and saw that Mrs. Potter was holding a pager, peering at the message it carried.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," she grumbled. Dropping the pager into her bag, she searched around inside it and brought out an apple. Deep crimson and shiny, it looked every bit as tempting as the one Snow White had accepted from another strange old woman. "THIS is what you wished for?"

Buffy shrugged. "Not exactly. I wished for chocolate cake," she admitted, returning the crystal to her night stand.

"Really?" Mrs. Potter said. "Well, as a great many people currently wandering through this mortal coil might say...fat chance."

"It was worth a try," Buffy replied, smiling. "But I thought you said that you can't alter wishes."

"I altered nothing. Had you been paying attention earlier, you would recall me telling you that I can choose not to grant a particular wish, which I did. The apple was MY idea." She placed the fruit on the night stand alongside the crystal horse and it's pumpkin shaped coach. "I refuse to aid and abet your poor eating habits," she said sternly. "Cake in the middle of the night? Why, the very IDEA of such a thing is ludicrous. How can you even suggest it?"

"I was hungry?" Buffy ventured.

"Oh, I see." Mrs. Potter leveled a deadly serious gaze on the slayer. "A word of advice, dear; in the future, kindly do NOT summon me because you're hungry! You might not like the result."

Suitably chastened, Buffy mumbled an agreement.

The fairy godmother's cheery smile beamed forth once again, it's sweetness enveloping Buffy in a down quilt of warmth and love. "Go to sleep."

Like a marionette with it's strings suddenly severed, Buffy flopped back down on her bed in a deep and dreamless sleep.

Mrs. Potter tilted her head to one side when she heard the front door of the house open and close quietly.

"Right on time, dear boy," she murmured.

With one final look at her favorite godchild, she was gone.

~~~~~
"But secretly, you just can't believe
it's true..."
~~~~~

Spike closed the bedroom door behind him, grinning at the view he was presented with.

Buffy was stretched out in the middle of her bed, arms and legs splayed like a capital X.

It was a sight that never failed to tickle him. He'd never in his life slept with such a bed hog. She spread herself out all over the mattress as though she was claiming it in the name of Spain.

He stripped his clothes off and climbed under the blankets. Propping himself on one arm, he looked down at her.

**Beautiful...she's so beautiful...and she's mine...my girl...**

She looked so happy, so utterly peaceful, that he hated to wake her up.

But he had to. On his way here, a sudden and strong need to make love to her had come over him. The closer he'd gotten to the house, the more urgent that need had become, until it was a raging inferno inside of him.

After a brief debate with himself as to the best way to wake her, he leaned down and began kissing and nuzzling her throat.

Buffy's eyes fluttered open, and she smiled when she saw him.

"Mmmm," she said sleepily. "Where've you been all my life?"

"Waiting for you, kitten," he whispered.

She slipped one hand behind his neck, urging him down to kiss her. He accepted the invitation, loving the way she lifted herself to meet him, as though she was too eager to wait.

"I was having the funniest dream," she said when he pulled back. "It was...."

Her words trailed off when she glanced at her night stand.

Spike followed her gaze. "Pretty," he said, gesturing at the crystal horse and coach. "Is it new?"

She said nothing, still staring at the crystal and the apple beside it.

"Buffy? Sweetheart?." He gave her a gentle shake.

"Hmmm?" She turned to look at him. "What? Oh! Sorry," she laughed a little. "It was...a gift from my godmother. It came today." Technically, this was all true.

The feel of Buffy's warm body was causing Spike to rapidly lose interest in any other subject.

"It's nice," he said briefly, pulling and tugging at her until she was lying halfway beneath him. Catching her face in one hand, he held her still and began kissing her again, his mouth moving from her lips and down her throat, lingering at the soft curve of her breast.

"God, you smell good," he said, returning to her lips. "And you taste good, too." He licked his lips. "Is that...peanut butter?"

"Cookies," Buffy said succinctly.

Spike chuckled softly. "Lemme taste." Bringing his mouth to hers, he paused to enjoy the sensation of her warm, scented breath, then captured her lips in a deep, drugging kiss.

She abandoned herself, as all her nerve endings began dancing just below the surface of her skin. He always did this to her, elicited this reaction. His lightest touch in just the right place, was enough to make her melt and ache with need.

His fingers moved over her, mapping familiar territory, lingering to play in her most sensitive hills and valleys.

Buffy's own hands were by no means idle. They trailed over him in a caress that alternated between light, delicate touching with the tips of her fingers, and firm squeezing as her nails dug in, leaving their mark on his skin.

Desperate for air, she broke the kiss. "I love you, baby," she whispered, staring up into deep blue eyes made glassy with passion. "I love you so much."

Spike needed to hear those words frequently, more so than most other men did. He'd waited so long for her to say them, and he thrived on the sound.

He never tired of hearing them, and Buffy never stinted on giving them to him.

Pulling back suddenly, he rolled onto his back, bringing her along with him. "Love you, too, kitten."

Buffy moved down, rising to her knees. "What do you want?" she asked, attempting to sound coy.

He stared up at her, heat lightning in his eyes.

"Take it off," he said, gesturing at her nightgown.

Slowly...teasingly...she gathered the material in her hands, pulling it up and over her head. "Now what?"

He swallowed hard, his eyes roaming her naked body with lustful intent.

"Make love to me."



TBC.....

Part four....


~~~~~
"When wonderfully...beautifully
Suddenly it happens
To you...."
~~~~~

Buffy smiled at the hunger in his eyes, the desire written so plainly on his heart stopping face. "I'd love to make love to you," she said, bending down to press her lips against his. "Open up for me."

Spike tried to contain the smile that curved his own lips, but he couldn't quite manage it. They parted beneath the pressure of her's, allowing her little tongue to creep in and explore his mouth.

He purposely kept his hands off her, shoving them beneath the pillow on either side of his head.

Her mouth continued it's hungry assault on his, alternating between hard, fierce kisses, and long, lingering ones. She found his tongue with hers, and played with it, coaxing it to follow her's back to it's point of origin.

When she finally pulled back, he protested and lifted his head to re-establish contact.

But she placed herself out of his reach by moving down his body, leaving moist kisses on his skin.

He gasped when she circled his nipples with the point of her tongue, then hissed through his clenched teeth when she swirled it around his navel.

Playfully, Buffy pressed her lips to his firm abdomen and blew a 'raspberry' on it. This made him laugh, and he finally brought one of his hands into play, caressing her hair with it.

"Brat," he murmured, watching her as she slipped farther down.

Buffy pushed his thighs apart, and knelt in the open V of his legs.

"I'm not either," she insisted. "See...I'm about to be very nice to you." His shaft was standing at attention, as it always did when she was around, and she took it in her hand and squeezed it. "Very...VERY...nice."

Spike's eyed widened briefly, and he grinned, pushing his tongue against the back of his upper front teeth, a gesture that never failed to excite her.

Keeping her eyes trained on his, Buffy extended her tongue and licked the underside of his cock from the base to the tip. This move wrenched a soft groan out of him, along with a slight upward lunge of his hips.

"Settle down," she scolded, pinning him to the mattress with her free hand.

"Oh, sure," Spike rasped. "You have my dick in your mouth and can say a thing like that?"

"Technically," Buffy said, "it hasn't been IN my mouth yet."

"Well, I was hoping...."

She cut off whatever he'd been about to say by dipping her head and taking him where he wanted to be.

"Oh...FUCK!" he yelled sharply.

"Shhh."

"Sorry."

"I don't want Dawn interrupting us when I'm having my way with you," she whispered, licking her lips.

"Me, either," he said, panting unnecessarily. "Keep having your way....please, baby...you...ohhh..yeah.."

His voice trailed off into a strangled moan, as his fingers slid into her hair.

Buffy enveloped him completely in the wet heat of her mouth, her tongue circling around the tip of his erection. Then she slid her mouth down as far as she could and began to suck slowly and rhythmically.

Spike's entire body quivered from head to toe, his eyes glued to the magical meeting place of her mouth and his cock. Wild with lust, he held her still and began to lift his hips in shallow thrusts, being careful not to push in too deeply.

After only a half minute of the exquisite torture, he had to push her away. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold off ejaculation, and although she wouldn't mind this, for some reason he didn't want to come in her mouth. He had to be buried inside of her tight little pussy when he expelled the huge load of semen he knew was building up.

He pulled her up, and sent one hand down between them to check for her readiness. When he felt the slick moisture she had produced, he grabbed her around the waist and slid her down onto his raging hard on.

Placing his feet flat on the bed, Spike arched his hips, lifting her and then lowering her back down.

When he was firmly sheathed inside her, he tugged her down and fastened his mouth on hers. Thrusting his tongue in between her lips, he swept it around the moist inside of her cheeks, tasting again the faint flavor of peanut butter.

Buffy returned his kiss whole heartedly, grinding her pelvis down so that he was rubbing her in just the right spot to drive her mad with pleasure.

Spike moved his hands down and took a firm hold of her rear, pushing her down even harder as he returned the pressure.

Needing air, Buffy broke their kiss and lifted her head. Looking into the heated blue depth of his eyes, she whispered the words he loved hearing more than anything else..."I love you, I'll always love you...just you..."

Nothing more erotic than that, but when SHE said it, it drove his passion sky high.

With a wicked smile, Buffy placed her hands on his chest and sat up. Getting her knees in place beneath her, she began to raise and lower herself along his shaft. Slowly at first, then faster and harder until she was creating a burning friction for them both.

She gave it everything she had, wanting it for him, doing it for him....making love to him.

Spike kept his hands on her waist for a moment, then when she had no further need of them there, he sent them up to hold and fondle her soft breasts.

He stroked her and squeezed her, massaging the warm flesh with his cool hands. His fingers explored the hard tips, teasing them with gentle pinches and tugs. This was doubly arousing for him; not only did he have the pleasure of playing with her breasts, but every
time he touched her nipples, her sex clamped down in a tight spasm around his cock.

But she wanted more....

Leaning forward, she pushed his hands away and lowered herself until her breasts were no more than an inch from his mouth.

"Suck them," she demanded, thrusting herself forward.

Spike was more than happy to oblige. He gripped one soft mound in his hand and opened his mouth, letting her push it inside where he could suck and lick it until the twelfth of never, if that was her pleasure.

He gave both her breasts an equal amount of attention, suckling hard and then soft, licking and kissing, even gently biting at them.

Buffy's head dropped back. "Feels good," she moaned.

"Tastes good, too," he said briefly, then resumed his task.

After a moment, he suddenly sat up and wrapped one arm around her waist. Placing his free hand slightly behind him, he began thrusting up into her with powerful jerks of his hips.

"Come on, baby," he groaned. "Come for me. Do it hard. Oh, yeah....tighten that pussy...that's how I like it...tight and wet...so fucking hot....unh...yeah...my girl...my sweet
little...girl...oh, fuck...yeah...yeah..."

Buffy was close to the edge. It wouldn't take much more to send her over it. Staring into Spike's eyes, she gorged herself on the beauty she found in him, sparing only a brief moment of regret for having taken so long to see it, and wasting so much valuable time.

"That's my girl...that's my baby...so good...gonna make me come, baby...do it...do it to me, babe...fuck me...hard."

"Yes," she whispered fiercely. "Oh, yes...I will....I do...oh, Spike...I'm...I'm..."

"....Buffy.."

"...gonna...gonna come...oh, now...now..."

He doubled his efforts, lifting her halfway to the stars and back, his cock sliding smoothly in and out of her ravenous sex.

Buffy dug her nails into his shoulders as he drove in high and hard, and deep...possessing her heart and soul as well as her body.

They came together one last time, their bodies convulsing in the perfect bliss of simultaneous orgasm.

***********************************************


When they were all the way through it, and it was beginning to rob them both of their strength, Spike turned and placed her on the bed, stroking her thighs until they relaxed their hold on him.

He arranged her on her back, waiting until she opened her eyes and smiled.

"I think," she said, regaining the power of articulate speech, "that's the best it's ever been. And that's really saying something."

"I think you're right," he replied, stretching out beside her and laying one hand on her tummy. "That was the best...and I love you very much, baby. Very...very much."




TBC.....

Part five....
One month later

Buffy slapped the alarm button off before the raucous noise woke up the man sleeping beside her. She climbed out of bed, yawning, and stumbled into the bathroom.

She was very surprised to see that the counter was clear of it's usual clutter of make up, hair clips, and bottles of nail polish. The only item left was a white oblong box about six inches long and three inches wide.

When she picked up the box, she saw a small piece of paper beneath it, covered in elegant handwriting.


As I said, your latest heart felt wish was simply too delightful not to grant. You may feel free to use what I've left for you, but rest assured that the outcome is already a certainty. Be happy, dear one. Everything you've always wanted is right around the corner. Accept it with open arms and a loving heart, and you shall have the "happily ever after" you've heard so much about.

Sometimes, the storybooks get it right!

With deepest affection,
Abigail Potter, (Mrs)

Shaking her head at the cryptic message, Buffy examined the box.

White all over, with no indication of the manufacturer anywhere on it, the box had one small line of print down at the bottom: Home Pregnancy Test/Inspected by #12

As she she read these words, her heart began to gallop in her chest and her eyes widened in shock.

The meaning of the note became clear, and a slow smile began to curve her lips. Laughter bubbled up inside of her, followed by amazement, then complete and utter wonder.

At that moment, Buffy knew that her fairy godmother had been right about this being a heart felt wish, albeit a subconscious one.

It was heart felt, because she never...ever..allowed herself to long for the clearly impossible...the desire to bear a child for the man she loved, to give him something that no one else ever had.

Knowing that she could never do it, would never have the chance, was painful. Most of the time she could deal with it, but once a month...every time she menstruated...the longing became a little stronger, and the disappointment as a little worse.

Falling in love with a vampire meant, along with the obvious benefits, that she'd had to surrender a lot of her hopes and dreams; Walking down a church aisle on her father's arm, dressed in white lace and satin...leaving her childhood home to make one of her own for her and her new husband...having baby...or two.

These were more facts of her particular life. Not pleasant, but realistic...

Until now.

With her hands shaking slightly, she performed the test.

As she had expected, the result was a great big positive plus sign in the little window.

**I'm pregnant...I'm going to be a mother...**

She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, searching for any sign that she was "different". All she was really certain of was that the face smiling back at her, was happier than it had been when she'd walked into the bathroom.

That happiness was muted by a sudden worrisome thought.

They had never discussed anything like this, not even hypothetically. What if he didn't want this child, if he became angry with her for making it happen?

Even worse, what if he wanted her to get rid of it?

**Oh, God, what if he hates the whole idea of it...hates the baby...hates me...**

Firmly, she pushed her dark imaginings away. This baby was a miracle they had created together in an act of love. Spike would never ask her to destroy it.

Clutching the test stick in her hand, she took a deep breath and went back to bed.

As the mattress dipped beneath her weight, Spike stirred and opened his eyes, regarding her with a lazy smile. "Morning, baby," he murmured, his voice a little slurred from sleep.

Buffy smiled at his unknowingly prophetic words. Returning his intent gaze, she wondered if their baby would have it's fathers lovely dark blue eyes, or her own light green.

"Hmm." He looked amused.

"What?" she asked.

"You're looking very kitten-who-drank-the-cream this morning," he said.

Feeling...for some odd reason...shy with him, she glanced away. "I am?"

"Mm-hmm." Kicking off the blankets, he stretched.

Buffy watched him, her mouth slightly open and her eyes a little glazed at this display of masculine beauty. The tightening and relaxing of his muscles, the arching curve of his back, briefly diverted her attention.

**Just look at that beautiful creature. And he's mine. He belongs to me..**

She shook her head to clear up her scattered thoughts, trying to return her focus on what she had yet to tell him.

"Since you brought it up...I sort of do have something we need to talk about."

Spike began to sit up, but she prevented it with one hand on his chest.

"Don't," she said. "It's probably better that you're lying down."

Head cocked slightly to one side, he regarded her with narrowed eyes. "Well, it can't be something bad" he said. "You're all smiling and...glowy looking. Almost...radiant."

Buffy turned her smile and glow down a notch. "It's not something bad."

Spike waited for her to continue, finally having to prompt her. "So? You gonna tell me or not?"

It was now Buffy's turn to hesitate. All her previous doubts about his possible reaction came back with new found intensity, the "what ifs?" returning with a vengeance.

Again, she beat the unpleasant thoughts down.

"Okay," she finally said. "But, before I tell you what it is, I have to explain how it happened."

As she began her story, she was surprised to learn that Spike was already aware of the
existence of fairy godparents.

"What?" he asked, seeing the look on her face. "Did you think it was all made up by the Brothers Grimm?"

"Well...yeah!" Buffy nodded. "I never once thought fairy tales were real. Not even when I was a little kid."

He shrugged. "You didn't think vampires were real, either...until you met up with one."

She paused. "Okay...that's true," she admitted.

"Or witches," he continued.

"You're right. I totally see your point."

"Werewolves...zombies...hell hounds...demons of all shapes and sizes...the Easter bunny..."

"Okay, I..." When her brain caught up with his words, her eyes became as round as tea saucers. "THE EASTER BUNNY IS A DEMON?" she squealed.

Spike laughed and ruffled her hair, affectionately. "No, I just slipped that one in to watch your eyes spin around."

Buffy pushed his hand away. "Very funny."

"Yeah, I thought so. Now, get on with your story."

He smiled when she reported the scolding she'd received about her grammar and her penchant for junk food; then, nearly applauded Mrs. Potter's comments regarding Buffy's inability to sometimes see what was right under her nose.

"I've been telling you that for years, love."

"Oh, shut up," she replied, giving him a playful shove. "Let me finish and we'll play 'I told you so' later."

"I'm all ears, Princess."

Buffy related the rest of her story, all the way up to the 'heart felt wish' mystery. When she was finished, he asked her if she'd figured it out yet.

"Yep," she nodded, staring down at her closed fist and the treasure it contained. "Just a few minutes ago."

Spike placed one finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up. "And...?"

Suddenly tongue-tied, she answered him by slowly opening her hand.

His eyebrow arched. "What's that?"

Buffy sighed. "It's a..." She cleared her throat. "A pregnancy test."

Spike's gaze snapped back to her. "It's a what?"

"A pregnancy test," she repeated, a little louder. "I just took it, and..."

"And...what?" He stared at her in wide eyed shock. "AND WHAT?"

"And....it was positive," she shrugged. "I'm pregnant."

He was so completely flustered by this that he didn't seem to know what he was doing. Almost leaping from the bed, he stood before her stark naked.

If he'd needed to breathe, he'd have been hyperventilating himself into unconsciousness.

Buffy watched him carefully, hoping that this wasn't a horrified reaction on his part. "Are you all right?"

"Am..am I all right?" he stammered. "Am I all right?" Sitting down next to her, he took her hand. "Buffy...never mind about me. Are YOU all right?"

She nodded reassuringly. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, squeezing his hand. "Stay calm, okay?"

"Stay calm?" He rolled his eyes. "Stay calm, she says..."

"Spike..."

"You tell me that you're going to have a baby...MY baby...and you expect me to stay calm." He shook his head. "Calm isn't an option for me right now," he said. "Manic!" he then suggested. "There's an option. THAT I can do without even trying."

Buffy's brow furrowed. "Okay...but is it a 'I'm so happy that I can't stand it?' kind of manic, or a 'When's the next bus out of town' kind of manic?"

She sounded worried, and Spike cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing back and forth over the curves of her cheeks.

"The first one," he replied, with the tenderest smile she'd ever seen on his face, even in the afterglow of sex, when he told her how much he loved her.

Rising to his knees on the bed, he slid one arm around her waist and pulled her close, then tangled his fingers in her hair and tugged her head back until she was looking up at him.

"You're gonna give me a baby, baby," he said, grinning widely.

Immensely relieved, Buffy's mind conjured up the image of a little boy with light brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a mischievous smile that carried it's own one-two punch...his father's smile...the smile that had won her heart so completely.

Spike's thoughts took an opposite direction as he pictured a tiny girl...a miniature duplicate of her mother...a princess dressed in pink, with Buffy's wide eyes and knock out smile.

"I'll bet it's a girl.."

"I'll bet it's a boy..." They said in unison.

"Boys are too much trouble," Spike said. "Way more than girls."

"Oh, yeah?" Buffy countered skeptically. "If my mother was here, you could ask her how much trouble I wasn't."

He brushed off her words. "That's different. You're a slayer. You don't go out looking for trouble, it just finds you."

"Frequently."

"Boys are always out looking for it, though. And ordinary boys are bad enough," he chuckled. "Can't you just imagine how OUR boy would be?"

Buffy's hands crept up his chest and over his shoulders, her fingers lacing together behind his neck.

"Our boy will be wonderful," she said with complete conviction. "He'll be strong and brave, and impetuous, with a wild heart...just like his father. And when he grows up, he'll be so handsome that all the girls will be crazy about him."

Spike shook his head in denial, playing with her hair. "I'm telling you, it's a girl. A beautiful little girl. She'll be clever and quick...sassy as hell...with her mother's gentle heart. And when SHE grows up, she'll be so pretty that all the boys will..no, wait," he frowned. "I don't like the sound of that."

Buffy was having a hard time keeping a straight face. He looked so serious...like this was a problem they'd have to tackle tomorrow.

"Never mind," he said, quite seriously. "Let's just forget all about that last part, because
it's never gonna happen. Not with MY little girl."

"Never?" Buffy asked, biting her lip.

"Never ever!" he said forcefully. "There's no way that I'm gonna sit still and watch some boy.."

The word "boy" was spoken in the same 'ick' tone that was usually reserved for moldy food found in the back of the refrigerator.

"...try and the put the moves on my daughter."

"Oh," Buffy said, nodding thoughtfully, "You mean like the way you didn't try and put the moves on her mother?"

"Oh, please," he scoffed. "That's not even...you can't compare...it's not the same thing as...stop laughing." He gave her an irritated look. "It's not funny."

She finally released the mirth she'd been struggling to keep hidden. "Yes, it is," she gasped. "I mean, just imagine you...giving a boy...oh, God, my side hurts...the...the 'what are your intentions towards my daughter' ...third degree?"

Bonelessly, she slipped out of his arms and collapsed on the bed, giggling madly. "You'll go right...into vamp...mode...and he'll...drop dead at your...feet."

Spike folded his arms across his chest and sat back on his heels, waiting for her to pull herself together. "Ha-ha," he said, looking supremely annoyed. "You about through, then?"

Brutally beating back her giddiness, Buffy pressed her lips firmly together and nodded
'yes', then immediately shook her head 'no' and the laughter exploded out of her.

When she was finally laughed out, she looked at him and smiled. "That was fun," she said,
sighing deeply. "No one can make me laugh the way you do."

"Yeah," he replied. "Court jester or village idiot. Take your bloody pick."

Despite his words, her amusement wasn't entirely one sided. He smiled back at her as he stretched out beside her. "Look, I know how my mind worked when I was an adolescent, and the times weren't nearly as free and immoral as they are now."

Buffy shot straight back up in bed. "Immoral?" she said in disbelief. "Did I just slip into an alternate universe or did YOU just use the word immoral?"

She stared at him, apparently amazed by the thought of a vampire decrying the lack of present day morality.

"Oh, my God!" she squeaked. "I can't believe you didn't just get struck by a bolt of lightning."

"Hey," he protested. "I've got morals. Just cause I don't take 'em out and polish them up every day doesn't mean I don't have 'em."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah! Even when I was a practicing vampire, I had morals."

"I don't remember that," Buffy said. "Give me a hint."

"Well..for instance..." He snapped his fingers. "Children! I never attacked children and I didn't let anyone who worked for me do it, either."

"Okay," Buddy said agreeably. "That's a good one. Got any more?"

He thought for a moment. "I never forced myself on a woman," he said, then grinned a bit arrogantly. "Course, I never HAD to...but I wouldn't have, anyway," he added. "Matter of pride, it was, not having to resort to force."

Buffy arched her back when she felt his hand slowly stroking it. She believed him utterly, since she couldn't imagine a sane woman turning him down.

"Some vamps get off on it," he said quietly. "Not enough to drain and kill a woman, they gotta torture them as well."

He didn't tell her that particular trick had been one of Angelus' specialties, and he had practiced it often.

"I was never interested in that," he said, winding a lock of her hair around his finger. "I liked the seduction. The chase. And I was damn good at it, too."

"I'll just bet you were," Buffy said, having had plenty of first hand experience of just how good he was.

Spike looked up at her, his eyes dark with new desire. "I knew all the right things to say...all the right things to do...exactly where to touch...and tease."

He sat up beside her and brushed her hair off her shoulder. "I never had any trouble getting what I wanted," he whispered, kissing the side of her neck. "Until..."

"Mmm...until what?" she asked.

He smiled. "Well, I met this girl. She was a beauty, and a real smart ass. Sexier than anything I'd ever seen before. Just a little thing...but she fought like a tiger."

Buffy shivered at the touch of his fingertips on her bare skin.

"Something about her just drove me wild...in one way or another...from the minute I saw her."

She knew exactly what he meant, because she'd had more or less the same reaction when she'd seen him for the first time.

The memory was etched in her brain....

Dancing at the Bronze...running outside and forgetting her weapon...the terrified screaming from the girl in the alley...the fight...the confusion about who the vampire had been begging for help from...mocking applause...turning around...seeing him...the thrill of instant attraction...the disappointment when she'd realized what he was...anger at the cosmic unfairness of that face and form being wasted on a demon...the frustration of knowing that both of the men she'd found most enticing had turned out to be vampires.

She'd had one brief and wildly improbable thought that maybe he was an 'Angel' type of vampire...one with a soul, but a little quicker on the uptake than Angel was turning out to be.

Of course, Spike's subsequent behavior had pretty much made it a non-issue.

"Did I ever tell you," he asked, using that deep 'bedroom' tone of voice she loved, "the first thought that went through my mind when I saw you moving that gorgeous body of yours around the dance floor, teasing every man in there?"

She turned to look at him. "I was not!" she protested.

"Yes. You were," he stated firmly.

Dropping her gaze, Buffy shrugged. "Well...I wasn't trying to."

"I know." Spike leered playfully. "It just comes naturally to you. That's why it's so damn sexy."

Briefly distracted by the pout on her lips that he absolutely loved, he said, "The first thought I had when I saw you was...that's mine. That's for me."

Buffy looked at him. "What about your girlfriend?" she asked sarcastically.

He was always surprised to hear the jealousy in her voice whenever the subject of Drusilla came up, even after all this time.

Spike knew it was a tone she'd picked up from him, something she'd heard whenever Angel was mentioned in even the most offhand and casual way.

"I can honestly say that, for a few minutes, I forgot all about her."


TBC.......

Ten months later...

Buffy groaned and buried her face in her pillow.

"She can't be hungry again," she whined, irritably.

Spike leaned over and kissed her bare shoulder. "I'll go," he whispered. "Try and go back to sleep."

"I knew there was a reason I love you so much," Buffy mumbled, pushing away a twinge of guilt
for not jumping out of bed to provide maternal comfort to the daughter she'd nursed less than an hour ago.

Sleep was a precious commodity these days. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd had a full night's worth.

Motherhood was turning out to be more difficult than she'd imagined. The tiny life that had been
entrusted to her was a demanding little soul that needed constant attention.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Katherine's needs were few and quite basic; frequently changed diapers..a full tummy...and an unending supply of love.

Spike handled most of the diaper duty, and never complained about it, even when the job
was a particularly smelly one. In his eyes, everything his baby girl did was wonderfully clever.

Everything.

He was recording every day of their child's life in a 'baby book' that he'd found in the store where they'd gone shopping for cribs, car seats, and strollers.

Every tiny yawn, every burp, every wave of her little fist...all of it went into the book, captured for posterity. Nothing was too small or insignificant, and he'd taken it to the ridiculous extreme of writing down the time and date of the baby's first soiled diaper.

Buffy was in charge of the 'full tummy' requirement. Her healthy young body was producing enough milk for two babies, so much so that Katherine would drift off and leave her mother
with an uncomfortably engorged breast.

She hated using the pump that the hospital had provided, prompting Spike to offer her the relief
she sought.

Once the baby's needs had been satisfied, he'd change her and return her to her crib. After
climbing back into bed, he'd gather up the heavy mound of Buffy's swollen breast, nursing at it until it was empty.

It caused a curious combination of feelings within her that ranged from nurturing tenderness, to raging sexual arousal.

The unending supply of love and devotion was something they shared equally in providing.

But, while Buffy loved the baby completely, Spike worshiped her. As far as he was concerned, she was the most beautiful baby to ever draw a breath, and no one had best try and tell him differently.

He was endlessly fascinated by her, and spent countless hours just holding her, studying every nuance of her sweet face.

Buffy would sometimes stand in the open doorway of the nursery, watching him as he walked their daughter around the room, introducing her to all her stuffed animals, and talking to her as though she understood everything he said.

In fact, Spike doted on the baby so completely that Buffy would feel an occasional pang of envy and sadness knowing her own father had never loved her the same way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still half asleep, Spike leaned over Katherine's crib and scooped her up, wrapping her in a thin
cotton blanket. "What's the matter, princess?" he asked, pacing around the room with her. "Tummy bothering you?"

"If she could speak," a chipper voice informed him, "she would tell you that she feels quite well,
but merely wanted some company."

Instinctively clutching the baby closer, he whipped around and found himself face to face with...

"Mrs. Potter, I presume?" he said, relaxing his hold on Katherine's small body. He had no trouble recognizing the woman. Buffy had described her perfectly.

"I am indeed," the woman replied. "And most pleased to meet you at last." Placing her tapestry
bag on the floor, she moved closer and placed one hand on the baby's back.

Katherine immediately quieted, snuggling her little face against her father's shoulder.

Spike was amazed...and grateful. "You should come around more often."

Mrs. Potter smiled. "I've always had a way with babies. May I?" she asked, holding out her arms.

"Oh, yeah. Sure." Spike transferred the infant into the woman's arms without hesitating.

Cradling the baby securely against her bosom, Mrs. Potter walked over to the antique rocking chair and settled down in it.

"Well, just look at you," she murmured, setting the rocker in motion. "I must say, your mother and father did a lovely job." She looked at Spike. "She's quite perfect, isn't she?"

He nodded in whole hearted agreement. "That's what I keep saying, but everyone else tries to tell me that nobody's perfect."

"Well, shows what they know, hmm?" She looked back down at the nearly asleep baby. "She's a beautiful, healthy and very happy little girl. If that's not perfection, then I can't imagine what is."

"Of course she's beautiful," Spike said. "She looks like her mother."

"Yes, she does. But, she has her father's eyes, doesn't she? Such a lovely shade of blue. I've always thought so." She glanced up at him. "However, I must tell you that she's also inherited your temper and impulse control problem."

Spike frowned. "I don't have an impulse control...."

Mrs. Potter cleared her throat sharply, raising her eyebrows.

He backed down. "I'm working on it."

"This child," Mrs. Potter said, "is a very special gift, given to you two because you have proved
yourselves to be worthy and deserving of her. I expect no less than your most sincere efforts." She gave him a stern look. "Is this understood?"

Spike felt put on the spot in a way he hadn't been since being called on the carpet by his mother for some transgression. "Yes...ma'am."

Returning her gaze to the baby in her arms, Mrs. Potter lifted her and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "There now, darling," she said quietly, "safe as houses you'll be. Your mother and father will take wonderful care of you." She cut another quick glance at Spike, who nodded in reply. "They'll make sure you're warm in the winter and cool in the summer...that you have plenty of NOURISHING food...they'll play with you, and read you lovely stories...and someday, much sooner than they would like, out the door you'll go to school. And I will always be close by, you have my promise."

Rising to her feet, she gave the baby back to her father, and picked up her bag.

"Now," she said briskly, "remember...to the dentist every six months, and the doctor at least
once a year. Make certain she eats properly...not too many sweets, and that she's well bundled in cold weather. She'll be prone to ear infections, the poor darling, so keep a sharp watch for them. See to it that she's always restrained snugly in an automobile, and that she wears a safety helmet when you teach her to ride a bicycle. Try not to panic when she's learning to walk. Every baby gets a few bumps and bruises when they start toddling. Fix the lock on the basement door...swimming lessons before she goes anywhere near a body of water larger than her bathtub....oh, and when she's four, she'll want a kitten. Let her have one."

Wishing he had a piece of paper to write all this information down, Spike just nodded at every
pronouncement.

"I shall be checking in from time to time," Mrs. Potter continued. "and Buffy knows how to get in touch with me if necessary."

Although she was ready to take her leave, she paused another moment and took in the sight
before her. "You know...you're going to be just fine, all of you," she said, her mouth curving in a
tender smile. "I always knew you'd be a wonderful father, William. I'm very proud of you."

Before he could gather his wits to respond, the woman was gone, leaving behind a faint scent of lavender....the fragrance his mother had been so fond of. His.....

"Nah....can't be," he said to the baby, shaking his head. "Besides...my mum's name was Anne Penmar, not...not Abigail...Potter...."

His words trailed off when he felt the ghost of a kiss whisper across his cheek.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As tired as she was, she wasn't drifting back to sleep. After fifteen minutes of trying, Buffy
kicked off the blankets and went to the bathroom.

On her way back to bed, she paused at the nursery door and looked in.

Spike was standing in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but a pair of black silk pajama
pants and holding a tiny bundle, wrapped up in a pink cotton receiving blanket, against his shoulder.

And a fussy little bundle it was.

"S'all right, princess," he murmured, gently patting her back. "Tell Daddy what you want, and he'll get it for you."

Buffy smiled and leaned against the side of the door. She could watch this particular scenario for hours and never get tired of it. It was such a kick to watch Sunnydale's most notorious "big bad" soothing a cranky baby.

Not that his behavior had surprised her. Spike had always had a nurturing side when it came to the women in his life, a facet of his personality that could probably be traced all the way back to his relationship with his invalid mother. Buffy had noticed it first with Drusilla, and then...to a slightly lesser degree...with Dawn.

"What's that song you're humming?" she asked, joining her little family in the middle of the room. "It's pretty."

Spike smiled and cuddled the baby closer as her fussiness calmed and she fell back to sleep. "Just an old folk song," he murmured. "Something my mother used to sing to me."

Buffy leaned against him, stroking the baby's soft cap of light brown hair. "I think she likes it."

Spike nodded. "I always did."

~~The End~~