Title: Reclamation

Author: Spike's Heart

Email:  spikes_heart@yahoo.com
 

Pairing: Spike/Buffy

Rating: PG mostly, but straining to reach an R

Setting: Sequel to Innocence Found

Disclaimer: If they were mine, I'd treat them nicer than Joss ever did.

Feedback: Yes, please! 

Archive:  Ask me, nicely.

Warning: There be children here!

A/N: Takes place less than 24 hours from where we left off.

Beta'd by: Willa

Summary: Buffy wishes her friends could understand the changes she and Spike have been through.

Reclamation -- Chapter 6 -- Showtime

Day Six

After making up with Spike, yesterday, Xander's mood lightened as the day wore on. He was back to being best buddies with the vampire and he could scarcely contain himself as plans were made for a Bugs Bunny cartoon festival at the Sun Theater when it got dark.

The only fly in the ointment was Angel. He sat in the middle of the bed and pouted, insisting he didn't want to see a "moo-vie." No amount of cajoling would get the little vampire to agree to the outing

Going by intuition, Tara approached the matter from a different direction. No more begging, bribing or pleading.

"I'm really surprised you're not the first in line to go see the cartoons, Angel," she said, shaking her head in dismay. "After all, there are so many drawings that went into making them."

The little brunet's ears pricked up at the mention of drawings, much as Tara knew they would.

"Someone holds up all the different drawings?" Angel's eyes glittered at the thought.

Now, how to explain cartoons so he'll understand. This would be so much easier if these children remembered their regular lives with any kind of consistency. "Can I borrow your papers and a pencil for a minute?"

Angel scampered off the bed to retrieve his things from the bookcase. "You want to draw my picture? Nobody ever did that before."

Tara blushed. He really did have a beautiful little face. And those eyes were soul stealers. How could anyone refuse him anything?

"Sorry, hon. My drawing skills leave a lot to be desired, but I can show you why movies are called moving pictures." She proceeded to draw circles of varying sizes on the corners of the pad. Patting the bed besides her, Tara urged Angel to sit at her side.

"Now watch the circles closely, Angel," she said as she thumbed through the pad slowly at first, picking up a little speed as she went on.

"Oh, look! The circles are bouncing." Angel was entranced. "Do it again, please?" he begged, bouncing up and down in his excitement.

Brava, girl. Looks like we'll be a full complement at the theater this evening after all. Sure, hon. See? If you draw the circles in a slightly different position each time, they seem to move. And if you have enough pictures... you can make them do anything you want."

"In this movie... will there be more than circles bouncing?"

Tara smiled. "Ever so much more than circles. I promise." Ruffling his hair, she sent the little vampire downstairs to join the rest of the group, Watch out, Sun Theater. Here we come.

Anticipation ran high in the nearly empty theater as the children were settled into their seats. They were so excited that they didn't even fight about who sat next to whom. Xander and Willow shared a large bucket of buttery popcorn. Rupert was busy with a big bag of strawberry licorice, and Angel was satisfied with a large soda.

Spike, Buffy and Tara sat a row behind the children, all the better to keep an eye on their charges. Once the lights went down, Tara found herself relieved to have chosen the aisle seat, as her companions made with the smoochies. With a mischievous giggle, she poked Buffy in the back, repeatedly, until the blonde finally acknowledged her.

"Wha... huh?"

She's glowing, Tara sighed, happily, taking in Buffy's appearance. Her sparkling hazel eyes and flushed cheeks made her look like a teenager caught necking. Which she sorta was, without actually being a teenager anymore. She hoped this wouldn't all disappear once the enchantment on their friends was broken tomorrow.

"I just wanted to let you guys know I'll keep an eye on the kids. Just go on with...with what you're doing."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n." Spike laughed, pulling Buffy closer to himself. "You heard the good witch, love. Nibblets are all watchin' the flick and taken care of. Pucker up now and give us a kiss all good n'not so proper."

Buffy groaned as he nuzzled her neck. "Gods, Spike. What is it with you and necks?"

"Vampire, pet. Or have you forgotten?" He flashed amber eyes and fangs, nipping her ear lobe before changing back.

"Never," she whispered, grabbing his face in her hands. "Just do it again."

Spike had no problem complying. "As my Slayer wishes."

Tara averted her eyes, peeking over the row of seats in front of her.

Willow sat with her feet scrunched up under her, avidly watching the animated antics of Bugs and Elmer chasing each other; dipping her hand into the popcorn bucket absentmindedly. Xander double-fisted the buttery treat, barely paying attention to the screen.

"Stop it, Will," he hissed, smacking her hand away. "You're gonna eat it all up and there won't be enough left for me."

Willow snorted. "There's plenty there, Xander Harris. If you wouldn't be such a piggy, we could share it with everybody." She threw a few pieces down the row at the other kids. "Anyone want some popcorn before Mr. Greedy eats it all up?"

"Nuh uh." Rupert refused, offering his licorice instead like a little gentleman. "It's got his bloody spit all over it. How about you, Angel?" He nudged the little vampire with his elbow.

Angel sat, eyes riveted to the screen as he watched the characters' antics. Unwilling to take his gaze from the screen, he shook his head no when Rupert poked him again.

"Don't say I din't ask you guys," the little redhead harrumphed, sticking her hand back in the greasy bucket in spite of Xander's protests.

Tara spent the remainder of the movie transporting first one child, then another to the bathroom and the snack bar. The list of goodies was staggering. More sodas, hot dogs, ice cream, peppermints, and a big giant pretzel for them all to share. Finally, she had to put her foot down.

"That's enough, guys. As it is, I doubt we'll be having anything for dinner. And maybe not for breakfast, either. Now hush and watch the end of the movie."

The ride home was rather subdued. Rupert and Willow cuddled against Tara in the back seat, Xander curled into the door, and Angel insisted on sitting on Buffy's lap.

"Little git better remember his place when all this is over, Slayer," Spike growled, his unhappiness with Angel's position clear to everyone in the car.

"Do you really trust me so little, Spike? After being in my face for the last two hours, I'm back to being 'Slayer' in your mind?" Buffy kept her voice low, not wanting to upset the little one on her lap.

"It's not you I don't trust, love," he whined, looking just as cute as any of the younger set. "S'just that this closeness we have is so new, and they'll all be back to what passes for normal tomorrow. I don' want to lose..."

Buffy rested her hand on Spike's thigh, gently stroking the well-muscled limb. "Hush, you. What makes you think things'll change? I didn't let them after our stint in kiddyland, and I won't after theirs. Besides..." she grinned, poking the vampire in the ribs. "...you still have your winning bet to collect, right? I hope didn't fall on my ass for nothing."

"Din't forget, Buffy. Guess I'm bein' a might foolish, but this thing between us... s'better than the way things used to be, innit?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Then let's get the little buggers into bed, and we'll see just what we really do have between us. Sound good?"

She smiled to herself, letting his question go unanswered for the moment. It was one thing to be spontaneous... and another to actually get into bed and 'do it'.

They turned into the driveway and hustled the sleepy children inside.

Spike was in the middle of the most marvelous dream. He and Buffy had made passionate love for several hours to the point of exhaustion. They lay cuddled together on a nest of blankets they'd strewn on the floor for comfort. It was so real he could feel the weight of her warm body against his. Smell the lingering scent of their combined essences. He instinctively tightened his arms, praying to hold onto the dream for a moment longer -- knowing it would prove the fallacy of the illusion when he closed his arms around... Buffy?

Bloody hell, she was there. As real in his arms as she was in his dream.

"Ow, Spike. Ease up, willya?" she grumbled, turning over to nuzzle into his chest. "I'm not going anywhere."

Before he had time to revel in his dream-come-true, one of their little charges decided to wake him up in a less than glorious manner.

"Spike, Spike! Wake up," little Rupert insisted, pulling on the vampire's hair until he sat up, regretfully letting go of Buffy.

"The house had better be burnin', mate. It's a mite late for you to be out of bed."

"I don't feel good, Spike. Can I sleep with you? And Buffy?" he added, peering over Spike's shoulder.

"Will it get you to be quiet an' give us some more sleep time?"

Rupert nodded, and crawled on top of the covers. Spike made sure he stayed on his side, considering both he and Buffy weren't exactly expecting company. Thinking the matter dealt with, he settled back into sleep; a warm body on either side of him.

Not more than fifteen minutes later, it started again.

"Spike, wake up. I don't feel so good."

"Oi, mate. Hush now, or you'll wake Buffy." He patted the covers besides himself. "C'mon now and go back to sleep, that's a good lad."

"My tummy feels all wobbly, Spike," Rupert whined. "It's making noises."

"Are you sure?"

Spike didn't have time to get out of the way. Rupert's stomach emptied right where he stood -- over the vampire's pillow.

"I told you I didn't feel well," the little boy sobbed, and vomited again.

"S'alright, pet. I believe you." As he rooted around the blankets for his pants, he realized Buffy was up as well.

"Take him upstairs and get him into a bath, Spike. It's probably all that crap we let them eat at the movies." Buffy wrapped the clean end of the blanket around herself. "I'll get dressed and make some tea to try and settle his tummy so we can all go back to sleep."

Already splattered in the remnants of the movie feast, Spike picked Rupert up and sprinted up the stairs. "I really hope you remember what a patient and understanding fellow I can be, old man." At Rupert's nod, Spike said: "And I promise to listen the next time you tell me you're not feelin' right."

This time, when the little face before him turned a deeper shade of green, Spike was ready. He held him over the toilet and let him rip.

By the time he headed downstairs, Spike's little entourage had increased by three. While Rupert was getting cleaned up in the bath, Xander and Willow took turns anointing the toilet with their own overindulgences.

One more heave an' I'm gonna do something I haven't in a hundred and twenty five bloody years.

Angel, on the other hand, wasn't sick. He just didn't want to be left out.

"Oi, Buffy," Spike called out halfway down the stairs. "Hope you made plenty 'cause we have the whole upchuckin' bunch."

A bleary eyed Tara appeared behind him. "I'll clean up the bathroom, Spike. Seems as if you have your hands full."

"Not to mention m'blanket downstairs, Tara-love. Rupert sought fit to christen it earlier," he grumbled, and headed for the kitchen.

Day Seven

The morning was spent ministering to three very cranky children. Four, actually, if you counted Angel. Just because he wasn't sick didn't mean he didn't want his fair share of attention.

"My god, Spike," Buffy panted as she pulled the vampire aside. "I don't know how the hell my mother survived my childhood. "These guys are gonna be the death of me. Just one more..."

"Buuuuffy," Rupert called from the bedroom. "More tea would be smashing. It makes me feel aaaall better."

"One, two... wait for it," she whispered, not moving from the spot.

"Buuuuffy, can I have some ging'rale? I'm tired of having tea," Willow whined. "And some chicken soup, like my Bubbe makes?"

Burying her face in Spike's t-shirt, she mumbled, "One more... I know it's coming."

"Buuuuffy, I'm feeling better. Can I have some twinkies?" Xander begged. "I'm all empty now, I promise."

"Sit, love. I'll get the little moochers their goodies." Spike stroked her hair as Buffy slid down the wall, shoulders rigid with tension. "Hey, Angel. Anythin' you want, mate? You're the only country not been heard from."

Angel slipped out of the bedroom, stepping over Buffy's prone form with a funny look on his face. "Is she okay, Spike? She don't look too good."

"Just tired, mate. Let's you an' me head down to the kitchen and bring back what the mob is callin' for. Buffy'll get up when she's ready. Xander," he called as he walked down the stairs. "You can forget those bloody twinkies."

A loud, baritone 'Oh, dear Lord' was heard coming from the upstairs bedroom, followed by several unmanly squeaks and the shuffle of not so little feet and slamming doors.

Buffy looked at her companions with a deep sigh of relief. "It's over, isn't it? Really and truly over?"

"No more emergency potty runs or cleaning up somebody else's vomit," Tara agreed. "It'll be nice to have some alone time, I think. Children are definitely not on my immediate agenda."

Spike remained silent, sitting on the couch with his eyes shut and his head down.

"What'sa matter, Big Bad? Gonna miss the kiddies?" Buffy tried her best to lighten his mood, but to no avail.

The vampire's shoulders slumped even further.

"Oh, Spike," Tara patted him gently on the back. "It'll be all right. At least you'll still have Buffy and me. It won't go back to the way things were."

They all looked up when Xander came thundering down the stairs.

"Gotta go," he muttered, not looking at anyone in the face, and slammed out the front door.

Willow followed shortly after, not saying a single word as she slipped out the kitchen entrance.

Last down the stairs were Giles and Angel, both looking a little embarrassed.

"Yes, right," Giles murmured, looking at the exhausted trio on his couch. "If you don't mind, I believe I'll make some more tea for myself. This business of growing up in mere minutes is a mite unsettling; as I'm sure you'll both remember."

Angel stared at the floor, mumbled something about calling Cordelia, and then followed Giles into the kitchen.

Buffy and Tara giggled at the soft-spoken 'Pouf' they heard from their otherwise silent vampire.

Title: Reclamation

Author: Spike's Heart

Email:  spikes_heart@yahoo.com
 

Pairing: Spike/Buffy

Rating: PG mostly, but straining to reach an R

Setting: Sequel to Innocence Found

Disclaimer: If they were mine, I'd treat them nicer than Joss ever did.

Feedback: Yes, please! 

Archive:  Ask me, nicely.

Warning: There be children here!

A/N: Takes place less than 24 hours from where we left off.

Beta'd by: Willa

Summary: Buffy wishes her friends could understand the changes she and Spike have been through.

Reclamation -- Chapter 7 -- Aftermath

Okay... the party's over and most of the guests have gone home. Now what?

Buffy smiled as Tara leaned over to wrap her arms around Spike's shoulders in a firm hug. As the gentle woman headed towards the kitchen, Buffy realized some things had really changed. Spike was no longer 'hers' alone -- to dislike or to care for. While Tara had always held some sort of affection for the ornery vampire, she was no longer afraid to show it to either him or anybody else.

"Hey, Big Bad," she said softly when Spike continued his dare she even think it? brooding. "Wanna tell Mama what's bothering you?"

"Now that's just disturbin', Slayer, no matter what age I might be." Spike sighed, still refusing to lift his head and look at her. "S'just... to borrow a phrase from a not-so-old tune... where do we go from here?"

Buffy's mood shifted from playful to floored in the blink of an eye. "Are you actually worried about me? I thought I made it clear that I was willing... that I wanted to see what we could be to each other. In fact," she said, pulling Spike closer to her by fistfuls of his tee shirt, "I said it in front of Giles and Tara. No more hidey-Buffy. And no more hidey-Spike, either."

"Not worried 'bout you changin' your mind, pet." The vampire eased out of her grasp, settling Buffy back onto the couch. "This past week has been illuminating in lots've different ways. Got to see you as a mum, for one. It's a good look on you -- carin' for kidlets."

A blush arose on Buffy's cheeks at his compliment. "I-I was sure I'd never want kids. I even refused to babysit 'cause I thought I'd be so bad at it."

"Don' let anyone tell you different, Buffy. It's not easy, but you did a hell of a job with your friends."

"I didn't do it by myself, you know. I wouldn't have been able to manage half as well without Tara and you." She batted at his shoulder, smiling at her memories. "You are so Marshmallow Fluff guy. Xander had you wrapped around his little finger. And let's not forget Angel."

"Yes, let's, pet. Let's forget all about baby Peaches and the tot brigade." An expression of loss passed fleetingly across Spike's face. He made a vain attempt at salvaging his usual arrogance by wiping his eyes surreptitiously. "They're gone now, and in their place are the gits that..."

"That made your life miserable," Buffy finished with some understanding of his attitude. "Oh, Spike. You're gonna miss the kids, aren't you?"

"It's not just that I'll miss them... an' if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it," he huffed, trying hard for his Big Bad persona and failing, miserably. "Now that I've seen you with little ones..." He threw his hands up in frustration, muscle ticking wildly in his jaw. "How can I ever give you that, Buffy? And how can I deny you?"

"D'ya think we could actually go out as a couple before you have me all Mother Goosey? I mean, I understand the missage," Buffy sighed. "They were so much sweeter as kids than as adults and they tended to listen to me every now and again. But that doesn't mean it's something to worry about right now." Buffy stroked Spike's nape gently, enjoying the way he leant into her touch; relaxing. "Besides, you can't not give me something I wasn't planning on having anyway."

Buffy watched as Spike closed his eyes, letting his emotions wash through him. Again, she marveled at how she'd ever thought this vampire had no heart?

"Not good enough, love," he murmured. "Not by half."

With a tenderness she'd only just rediscovered, Buffy pressed a kiss to his lips, silencing his doubts and insecurities.

"If I say you're good enough, then you're good enough, silly bampire." She yanked his arm in a well-practiced move, pulling Spike off the couch. "Why don't we go see what the kitchen bunch is up to? Maybe they've all turned into mushrooms by now. Or... or..."

Spike fought the grin trying to appear on his face. "How 'bout toads? We could keep 'em all locked up in a terrarium. No more late night Wal-Mart runs."

"Oh, God! Giles is gonna have a cow when he opens his next credit card bill," Buffy groaned. "That's it... this time I'm serious. Let's go find another Framey demon. Giles wouldn't hit a defenseless little girl, would he?"

Spike just smiled as they walked out of the room.

"So, mates. How's it feel to be a couple of old farts again?" Spike came out swinging, figuring the best offence, blah, blah, blah. He wasn't overly worried about the Watcher, but his Sire could be a volatile creature, and given the changes he'd just been through...

Angel grumbled, staring down at his now-empty mug of blood. "Let it go, Spike. Can't I just sit here in peace until Cordy comes to pick me up?"

"Knew you'd be back to your broody self in no time."

"Boys," Tara soothed, coming over to the table. "Haven't we had enough childish behavior to last us for awhile?"

"Bloody git started it, Tara. M'tired of..."

"Spike!"

He rolled his eyes, but gave in without another word. "Yes, Mum. I'll be a good lad, Mum. No spankin' for... What's this?" He reached into the waste basket and pulled up young Angel's drawings. "Why'd you toss the sketches?"

"Leave them, Spike. They're... they're nothing but a little boy's scribblings." Angel refused to look at anyone; apparently the openness he'd shown as a child was a thing of the past. "The boy's gone. Was nothing more than spell-based nonsense, and so are those."

Buffy gasped, yanking the drawings away from Spike. "Don't you dare throw these out, Angel. How could you? These are precious. Something we'll never have a chance to experience again. Probably."

"Look," he growled, lunging for the papers in her hand. "I just told the bleached pest, and I'm telling you... they're nothing but garbage."

With a ballerina-like pirouette, Buffy managed to evade the large vampire's grasping hands by ducking under his arms. "Nuh uh. I'm gonna keep 'em. At least this time your drawings aren't followed by dead bodies or threats. I like them."

"It wasn't so bad, you git -- bein' a kiddy an' all." Spike's hand fell on Angel's shoulder, trying for a moment of what passed like peace between them. "You were a cute li'l bugger. An' rather ticklish, if I recall." He grinned, watching the older vampire twitch. He should have known better than to tease, however.

"All right, sonny boy. You're so fond of remembering, are you?" Angel leered. "I seem to remember someone purring against my chest as he fed..."

Spike threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Fine. You win. The past is the past an' I won't be bringin' it up again. But I still say Buffy's right. Keep the piccies. You may not want 'em now, but I'd lay odds that you will, one day."

A small peck on the cheek was Spike's reward from Buffy, before she took the drawings and put them away in Giles' desk for safekeeping.

Angel grumbled, but he let Buffy keep the images, sitting back down with his head in his hands. "Where the hell is Cordelia with the damned car, already?"

"She won't be here for several hours, Angel," Buffy said softly. Why don't you go rest upstairs and we'll call you when she gets here?"

He left without an argument.

Buffy walked in on Angel -- unannounced. She'd obviously startled him, watching with amusement as he tried to hide the sketchpad and pencils behind his back.

"I thought you came up here for a little rest." She smiled, trying to peek behind his back. "What're you hiding?"

"Nothing. I'm not hiding anything."

As her well-sculpted eyebrow rose in disbelief, Angel relented.

"Fine, so maybe I'm hiding a little something." He pulled out the pad and handed it over with a grimace.

"Oh, Angel. These are beautiful."

Buffy was amazed as the images came into view. Angel had done detailed character studies of everyone except himself as children. Little Wills and Buffys laughing, sleeping, eating breakfast... every expression captured for posterity. Images of little Willow, Rupert and Xander... skating, at the Ice Cream Emporium, and playing around the house filled the other pages. Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at him.

"They're perfect," she sniffled, hugging the vampire as his sat there, stiff as a board. "Thank you, Angel."

"They're not too much," he demurred. "It helps having a photographic memory for details."

She shook her head in disagreement. "You don't understand. They're probably the only children I'll ever have. These pictures mean everything to me, especially since you drew them." Buffy held the papers to her chest, smiling wistfully. "But you're still hiding some. Can I see?"

"Sorry, Buffy. These aren't for you."

"But..." She pouted, turning on the eyes of doom that no male had been able to resist since the first time she was five years old. "Please, Angel? Lemme see."

Angel finally relaxed enough to smile at his one-time girl. "That hasn't worked on me since... well, last week, anyway." He handed her the remaining drawings he'd held back.

The first was a group photo of all the children. "That's for Giles. I thought he'd enjoy a family portrait, even though you weren't all kids at the same time."

The second was Tara, holding little Willow on her lap. Sort of a modern-day Madonna and child. "I figured even if they don't get back together, she'd enjoy the memory."

The next drawing showed Spike caught in a moment of pure joy; his head thrown back, laughing with delight over something unseen. "I don't recall the last time I'd seen him so carefree, Buffy. I was going to keep this one for myself, but you can have it if you want."

Realizing how big a deal it was for Angel to admit wanting any reminder of Spike around, she refused his generous offer, turning to the last drawing in the pile. Her hand flew to her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs welling up in her throat.

Little Will and little Buffy cuddled up together on Giles' guest bed. The detail was extraordinary. Light, shadows, down to the wrinkles in their cotton jimmies; the way Buffy's little pinky toe crooked where it caught the blanket.

"You were gonna keep this one, too?" Buffy looked up at him with tear filled eyes.

"When you and Spike came to my office last week, I saw it. Saw that I'd lost you as my girl in that girlfriend sense, for good. But by the time you'd left, I knew you'd become something more. You and Spike were both my -- mine. My..."

Buffy put the pictures down, taking up Angel's hands instead. "Your... children?"

"In a twisted sort of way. Vampire childer are our way of procreating -- keeping the line going, so even if he's not mine by blood, he's mine by my blood."

"And me?"

"You're his by choice, which makes you mine, as well. Unless he hurts you, in which case he's dust."

Buffy's comments were cut off by the blaring of a car's horn outside, signaling Cordelia's arrival.

Spike caught sight of Buffy coming down the stairs, hand in hand with Angel. It took all of his control to keep from barreling into his elder and knocking him flat on his arse.

"So what's with the buddy-buddy routine?" he snarked, resentment simmering just below the surface. "You two back to being a couple? Had a bit of a revelation whilst you were..."

"Do you ever shut up, idiot?" Angel bit out; his clenched teeth showing control issues of his own. "Buffy and I have finally closed the door on our old relationship. We've decided it was time for something new."

"Oh, my God, what's wrong with both of you?" Buffy dropped Angel's hand and stood between the two vampires as Spike's growl reverberated throughout the room. She then smacked him not so gently on the arm. "Tell him what you told me, already. Cordy's not likely to take being kept waiting really well."

Spike eyed his grandsire warily as he stepped back, giving them both some maneuvering space.

"Here," Angel growled, holding the drawing out for Spike to take. "I just thought you might understand how I feel without my actually having to say the damned words."

Spike felt the warmth of Buffy's arms as they stole around his waist. "This what you two were discussin' upstairs, love?" He had a hard time processing the emotions he felt as he looked at the drawing of themselves as children.

As a fledgling, William had an affinity for Angelus' drawings. For a supposedly soulless creature, he could often bring you to tears with his artwork. It was that evocative. He'd lost nothing of that talent over the years.

With eyes sparkling with barely held emotions, Spike put the drawing down carefully on the kitchen counter. Silence reigned; everyone apparently waiting on his reaction to Angel's olive branch. He reacted in the only way he could... he punched the older vampire in the shoulder.

"Bloody tosser," he growled; voice rough with unshed tears. "You promise never to call me sonny boy again, and I'll make a fair effort not to call you Gramps within anyone's hearing. We got a deal, mate?"

A rough hug was Angel's only reply, before he turned his suspiciously wet face away and walked out the door after another of Cordelia's impatient honks.

Oh, how good it felt to be home. Buffy walked through each room, re-familiarizing herself with each little knick-knack and knothole. It had only been a week since she'd been there, and two since the start of the whole kiddy business, but for the first time in over a year, the house on Revello Drive was all hers. Willow would probably move out. Tara had moved into Giles' place. All alone... unless... Spike moved in with her? For real this time, not just for convenience. Maybe the guest room until they were more sure of their relationship? Not like they couldn't have some together time if and when they chose.

She sat down on her bed, staring at her girly-pink phone. Maybe some things still needed to be changed. Something that reflected the new, older and more improved Buffy. Along with getting rid of those boy band posters. Geeze, what had she been thinking?

Anyway, it was time to do what she'd come home for. Spike wouldn't be back for a couple of hours, giving her the space she needed to check up on her other newly grownup friends. As much as she wanted his support, Buffy knew this was something best faced alone.

Staring at the phone wasn't going to accomplish anything, so Buffy quickly tapped Xander's number into the keypad before she lost her nerve, hoping he'd still pick up the phone when her number came up on Caller ID.

"Hey, Buff. What's new?"

His voice was so shaky, Buffy cringed.

"Oh, not much. Still with the big and grownup." She tried for light, hoping to diffuse some of the tension evident even over the phone line. "I wanted to make sure you got home in one piece, Xan. And that you were okay. It's been a rough week."

Xander snorted. "Way to put it mildly, Buffy. I'm fine. What's left of my pride after trotting through Sunnydale in Giles' way-too-tight sweats is once more intact."

"Are we good, Xan? I mean, we didn't leave off well, what with all the yelling and accusing and screaming..."

For a moment, she heard nothing but heavy breathing through the receiver.

"Look, Buff. I'm okay. Well, I've been better, but I'll be fine soon enough. Nothing a couple of decades in the hands of a good shrink can't take care of."

"We still need to talk. About Spike..."

"No!"

"Xander, please," she begged. "We can't sweep this under the rug and expect to move on like nothing's changed."

"No, Buffy. I mean there's no way I can talk about this... about him, right now."

It was Xander's turn to beg. She could hear the tears clogging his voice and relented for the moment.

"I'm not dropping this, Xan. We have to talk about it sometime."

"Agreed. Just... not now. Gotta go, Buff," he said, in a transparent attempt to rush her off the phone. "Anya's coming over and I'm sure we've got a long talk ahead of us, too. Only so much talking a guy can stand in one afternoon. Even me."

"Later, then? You'll come over for a face-to-face?"

"Nose-to-nose, even," he joked. "I promise we'll get together, soon."

"Bye, Xander."

click

Leaving last minute details in Tara's capable hands, Buffy ran to answer the doorbell.

Willow stood in the doorway; shoulders slumped and face hidden by a curtain of bright red hair. "I-I brought something," she murmured, shoving a brown supermarket bag into Buffy's hands. "Oatmeal Cookie Chunk and Phish Food. Nothing says peace offering like tubs of Ben & Jerry's. "

Buffy could see the hope shining in her friend's eyes, and her nerves lessened.

"Nope. Not much like ice cold creamy goodness to get over the rough spots." When the redhead seemed hesitant to come inside, Buffy grabbed her now empty hands and pulled her gently towards the living room.

"H-hello, Willow."

At the sound of her ex-lover's voice, Willow nearly bolted, and would have if it weren't for Buffy's grip on her arm.

"You can do this, Will. You have to do this," Buffy urged, guiding the shaking woman over to the couch. "It'll all work out."

"Hey, Tara."

They all turned as Spike thundered down the stairs. He shared a hasty kiss with Buffy by the door before tearing out, slamming the door behind him.

"Um, Buffy? Did Spike leave because of me?" Willow toyed with the hem of her shirt, looking very much like the high school girl Buffy had first met.

She smiled, patting the woman's back reassuredly. "Nah. Like anyone could make Spike leave if he didn't want to."

"Is he so angry with me he wouldn't stay in the same room?"

"No, Willow," Tara echoed Buffy's previous statement. "Spike actually went on patrol, giving us some girl time." A sad little smile graced her lips as she reached out, smoothing an errant lock of hair behind her ear. "Besides, what would he do at a hen party, anyway? Let us curl his hair and polish his nails?"

Buffy snickered, both hands flying up to cover her mouth.

"What?" Tara and Willow chorused.

"The last thing Spike needs is to have his hair curled. He'd look like a platinum poodle!" Buffy giggled. "Have you ever seen that man straight out of the shower? Shirley Temple would have been jealous of those curls."

"Or when he's just woken up," Tara added, mirth evident in her eyes. "He's so rumpled and sweet. He reminds me so much of his younger self, I half expected him to rub the sleep out of his eyes with balled up fists."

"Hey!" Willow's indignant squawk put a halt in the gigglefest. "How do you know what Spike looks like just out of bed?"

Tara sighed. "Is it really your business anymore, Willow? Who I see; when I see them?"

"It is mine," Buffy interrupted. "I'd be jealous if I didn't know the last time you saw Spike hop out of bed, it was to wash up the pukey blanket that Giles gifted us with." With a moue of disgust on her lips from the memory, she headed towards the kitchen. "I'm gonna leave you two alone for a bit. It'll probably be a bit easier to talk with a little privacy." Buffy slipped quietly through the door without looking back.

"I'm sorry, baby. You know I didn't mean..."

Tara shook her head, wondering how she could have made such an error in judgment with the woman she thought to be her life partner.

"Something else you don't mean, Willow? At least this time one of our friends isn't lying on the ground, writhing in pain from one of your mistakes." Tara kept her voice low but each sentence had the impact of a slap across the face. "And I'm not the person you should be apologizing to. You hurt me, yes. By your lies and your secrets, you ruined what I thought we had. Trust between partners, once shattered, isn't always reparable."

"Isn't there anything I can do to make this better?" Willow sobbed. "Tara, baby. You know I love you."

"And I love you, too, Will. But sometimes..."

A look of resignation crossed the redhead's face. "Sometimes it's not enough. Yeah, I get that," she sniffled, swiping at her nose with the back of her hand. "I really killed us, didn't I?"

Tara nodded, glad to see it finally sinking in. "Without trust, we have nothing. I'm so sorry, Willow, but I can't... won't be in a relationship without it."

"I can change," Willow insisted. "What if I go to a... to a shrink? To work out all my problems. Will you be willing to give us another chance?"

"Oh, sweetie. If you go to a psychiatrist, do it for yourself, not me." Tara sobbed, losing control for a moment. "You have to find out why you need to control every situation, even those that have nothing to do with you. Do it for yourself, and any other relationship you might have in the years to come," she whispered. "Just not with me."

"Will we ever see each other again? Do I have to leave town? Or you... are you leaving Sunnydale?"

With a wistful smile, Tara hugged her unhappy ex gently. "You don't have to leave town, silly. Sunnydale is your home. And mine, too. I've moved in with Giles. He was kind enough to offer me... to let me stay with him. A-and we'll see each other from time to time, I'm sure. Given enough of it, we'll be friends again."

"Just friends?" Willow squeaked.

"Always, hon. You can never have too many friends. Remember that."

Buffy came back into the living room; not with ice cream, but lugging a heavy cooler. "Everything okay guys? I was beginning to think I should notify the post office of my new, kitchen address."

"Did you make us some picnicy goodness?" Willow wiped away her tears, pointing to tub now placed on the floor between them.

"Nope. It's addressed to Spike, but I'm dying to open it," Buffy worried. "You never know who's gonna send him something nasty just for fun."

"Somebody send me a prezzie?" Spike breezed into the house, settling down next to Buffy. "Well, lemme open it. We can pretend it's my deathday, an' you can get me some ice cream, too. Just one of girls tonight."

"What's got you all good-moody, Spike? Not that I'm complaining."

"Must've been those Pterycaldis demons I took apart," he grinned, wiping his hands on Buffy's bare arms. "Buggers were attackin' some moonlight strollers down by the pier."

Buffy cringed, then looked down at her clean skin. "Gods, Spike. You're worse now then when you were five. Who's the cooler from? Does it say in the card? Do you recognize the handwriting?"

Spike snickered. "An' you think I'm impatient? Pot, kettle, love." He looked over the envelope, finding no card enclosed. "Guess whoever had nothin' much to say. Looks like demon-girl's handwritin'." A quick flip of the cooler's lid had everyone staring.

"Wow, Spike," Buffy exclaimed, handing over packer after packet from Sunnydale Memorial's bloodbank. "Looks like you've got an admirer. Very admiring admirer -- the dates are still fresh." Her brow furrowed with concern. "Now who do you know who'd be sending you a Blood-o-Gram?"

"There's more, pet. Weetabix, burba weed... ya think old Rupes sent a care package for getting' him through his second childhood?"

"Not Giles, Spike. Look." She held out the last item from the bottom of the cooler.

"A stake?"

"Would you just look at it? Closely?" Sheesh! What is it with men?

"Well I'll be thrice damned," Spike murmured, turning the carved piece of wood over and over in his hands. "A bleedin' teddy bear with fangs. The git does nice work -- fit's m'grip good an' proper."

Buffy blinked back her tears, unable to cope with the sudden rush of emotions roiling through her body. She took the stake from Spike's hand to let the girls see Xander's craftsmanship, and hugged her vampire tightly.

"There's hope for us all yet, bampire," she whispered in his ear. "Maybe all this presto change-o was the best thing that could've happened."

Spike nuzzled his favorite spot behind Buffy's ear, and sighed. "You know, I wish..."

"Oh, no! No you really don't," she whispered back, holding his mouth shut with her hand. "No more wishing, Spike. We can do it all by ourselves... if we try."

"I already have my wish, Buffy." At her confused look, he clarified. "From our bet? It's all I've ever wanted -- just a chance, an' we've more than that. Guess m'done wishing."

"Wanna bet?"

Without a backwards glance at their guests, Slayer and Vampire ran up the stairs to start working on their new life together.

Title: Reclamation

Author: Spike's Heart

Email:  spikes_heart@yahoo.com
 

Pairing: Spike/Buffy

Rating: PG mostly, but straining to reach an R

Setting: Sequel to Innocence Found

Disclaimer: If they were mine, I'd treat them nicer than Joss ever did.

Feedback: Yes, please! 

Archive:  Ask me, nicely.

Warning: There be children here!

A/N: Takes place less than 24 hours from where we left off.

Beta'd by: Willa

Summary: Buffy wishes her friends could understand the changes she and Spike have been through.

Reclamation -- Epilogue -- Blast from the Past
 

Two Years Later

Giles stood back and enjoyed the sight of Tara bustling about in his tiny kitchen. The young woman had put aside her shy nature and blossomed into the full, lush spirit he'd only gotten a glimpse of during her relationship with Willow.

If pressed, he would have to admit he'd developed quite the crush on his roommate over the past few years. Tara was bright, imaginative and, most appealing of all, a homebody. Her idea of a good day involved sitting in front of the fireplace with a bottle of fine wine, and a platter of fruits and cheeses.

They did go out together. Dining at a fine restaurant, followed by a night at the theatre wasn't unheard of, but usually they settled for cooking together and talking about their respective days. Very domestic. Wonderfully appreciated.

"Are you sure you don't need any help, love?" he asked for the third time in an hour. "I don't want you too exhausted to enjoy our guests."

Tara's face was alight with contentment as she shepherded a second turkey from the oven to cool before carving.

"Everything's under control, Rupert. What time is everyone set to arrive?"

"We did tell them five o'clock, I believe. But you know how things tend to..."

knock, knock

Wiping her hands on her apron, Tara looked up at the clock. Sure enough -- barely two thirty. "Care to take bets on the early arrival?" she asked between laughs, heading for the door, where she was promptly encompassed in a bear hug by an over-exuberant Xander.

"You have no idea how good it is to be able to wrap my arms around a woman again, cutie." He grinned and promptly got his hand slapped reaching for one of the cooling turkeys. "And may I just say 'ow' missy? Giles been teaching you self defense in his spare time?"

"One would think you'd know better than to try and sample the goods before dinner, Xander," Giles greeted the young man warmly. "Tara might not practice spell-casting often, but I'm sure she's quite a dab hand at turning mooching guests into salamanders for a couple of hours."

Anya's still-strident tones rang out from the kitchen. "Giles! Make Tara carve some dark meat right now. I'm hungry," she demanded, waddling into the living room, her baby-belly arriving well before the rest of her.

Giles gently helped the seven-months-pregnant woman onto the wing chair, easing her down into a sitting position.

"It's true what they say, Anya. You have quite the glow about you."

Anya grunted, trying to ease herself into a more comfortable position. "That's because I'm always sweating," she muttered. "He's impregnated me with a demon child and I'm going to burn up from the inside out."

Without another word, Xander ran into the kitchen to get the mother-to-be a glass of ice water.

Giles was pleased at the changes the couple had undergone since Buffy's little wish. Xander finally let go of his deep-seated demon prejudices... at least in regards to their little group. Mostly. And when his girlfriend became pregnant, he'd been overjoyed at the prospect of being a daddy.

Not so much Anya, who was terrified. She might have been able to handle a pair of five year olds in the bathtub, but the prospect of full-fledged motherhood left her bemoaning her lack of maternal instincts.

She also refused to get married until the baby was born and she could fit into a 'proper' wedding dress. Her mantra became: "One child. One wedding. One husband." On particularly hormonal days, Xander had informed Giles that she would look at him sideways, mumbling something about 'the old days' and 'his turn' and 'swollen body parts'.

Family, Giles thought happily. His children had really learned something from their experiences.

There was only one sore spot -- Willow. She'd tried bravely to maintain a friendship with Tara after their breakup, but it was not to be. She couldn't be around her ex-girlfriend without wanting more, and Tara most gently rebuffed her at every turn. Xander's decision to focus his attention on his girlfriend left Willow feeling the odd man out, especially with...

"Gii-iiles, we're here!"

Buffy's dulcet tones rang out from the kitchen, followed closely behind by the sound of flapping cloth, indicating the arrival of her vampire during daylight hours.

Spike and Buffy. Buffy and Spike. Slayer and Vampire. Giles no longer held any real reservations about their relationship... other than, would any man ever be good enough for the daughter of his heart?

She barreled into the room; her happiness almost a tangible sensation. "Tara says we can eat in about an hour if we're hungry. Seems she always knows when there's foody goodness abounding, we're likely to get here early and she planned for it."

"Won't be soon enough if you ask me," Anya mumbled, clearly wishing she could devour one of Tara's flaky, fresh-baked croissants. "It's really cruel of you guys to have so much food around and not let me and little Elsa graze a little. I'm eating for two, ya know?"

Buffy looked at Anya's rounded belly with reverence, silently asking permission to touch. "You know you're having a girl?" she asked wistfully, smiling at each little kick and movement she felt.

Anya shook her head. "Well, the doctor knows, but Xander and I decided we'd like to be surprised. "It could be a little Olaf."

"Not funny in the slightest, Ahn," Xander chided, lovingly. "No way a kid of mine is gonna to be named after your very ex-husband-turned-troll."

"Mates." Spike acknowledged the Watcher and Xander with a nod of his head. "Anya, love... you look smashing. Gonna make a first-class Mum, you will."

The young woman beamed at Spike's compliment and turned her face up for a peck on the cheek. "Just remember that we're expecting lots of expensive presents from you two. Godparents should spoil their godchild silly... and with the best gifts."

"Not that I'm not feelin' the love here, but can anyone tell me where to put this down?" Spike asked, indicating the rather large box he carried with him, and pointedly avoiding Xander's wicked gaze as he held back the obvious gibe.

"Does it bite?"

"No more than I do these days, Rupes," the vampire smirked. "Just a little something for after dinner."

Giles motioned over to a spot near the small desk by the front door. "Nothing perishable, I take it?"

"Left the yummies to you an' Tara this year." Spike watched the three women commune -- all baby talk, soft smiles and belly-rubbing. "You know, I wish..."

"NO!"

"Wasn't gonna actually say it," Spike groused.

Tara patted his shoulder; her soft smile taking what little sting there was out of everyone's yelled response. "C'mon, Big Bad. Help me bring out the food. We wouldn't want Anya to pass out from starvation, now would we?"

Stuffed to the point of bursting, everyone naturally paired off in the living room. Anya and Xander took to the sofa, where she could put her feet up on her boyfriend's lap. Nothing said whipped like massaging the tired, aching and swollen toes of the one you loved.

Giles and Tara settled into the loveseat. Spike was sure if the couple weren't already shagging, it wouldn't be long. The arousal rolling off the pair had been building steadily for the past year and their obvious ease and affection were on display for all to see.

As for Spike? He did what he did best... settled on the floor between Buffy's legs; allowing her fingers to card through his no longer tightly gelled hair.

The silence was comfortable -- a true benchmark denoting close family. Not to mention the tryptophan reaction the humans were dealing with.

When the knock came at the door, Spike was the only being fit to get up and answer it. "'bout time you got here, Poof," he snickered. "Party's mostly dead without you."

Angel lightly clouted his obnoxious childe on the back of his head as he walked inside; a common greeting ritual between the two vampires.

Cordelia stood at the threshold and made a show of peeking inside, first. "So, bleach boy... is it safe? Nobody turned into rats or smelly Feshl'ik demons this year?"

"Wouldn't get too close to Harris after what he ate, otherwise we're a smell-free zone, Legs," Spike said as he ushered her inside.

"Did you start without us? You know old Broodypants wouldn't leave until moments before sunset."

Buffy snorted indelicately from her chair. "Nice to see some things don't change, Cordelia. You still think the world stops and starts for you."

"And you're still boinking the undead, right?" the brunette fired back.

"Yup!" The smug look on Buffy's face gave lie to the seemingly hostile words spoken by the two women.

Spike had learned enough to keep his mouth shut. The sight of Angel rolling his eyes was satisfaction enough. Ever since 'the incident' Buffy had grown close to her old schoolmate, bonding over the care and feeding of little Angel. The dish between them could go on for hours over the phone, not that Spike made a habit of listening in... much... but the mockery of his grandsire was just too good to pass up.

"Gods, what a sorry bunch of old farts you all turned out to be," Cordy exclaimed, ever tactful. "I decided we'd mark the anniversary of everybody's childish regression with a new portrait." She waved a tiny digital camera in the air to emphasize her point. "So... what's everyone waiting for? Hop to it, people. And vampires -- anyone kidified needs to go make themselves presentable. Chop chop!"

Twenty minutes later they all reassembled by the sofa -- hair combed, clothing tucked into the proper place and somewhat nostalgic expressions on their faces.

"Oi, Legs. Hang on a mo." Spike headed over to the box he'd brought and brought out a large wrapped package. "If we're gonna mark the occasion, let's do it right an' mirror the original as close as possible." He handed the present to Giles as Buffy beamed her approval.

"S'just a little token. Seems great minds think alike, an' me and Buffy decided to remember our younger years as well."

Giles began to pick fussily at the tape when Tara snatched it out of his hands. "I swear, Rupert... you're going at it like an old maiden Aunt." She proceeded to tear the paper to bits. "Oh! It's just wonderful, you guys," she said, handing the portrait over to Giles and grabbing Spike around the waist for a quick hug. "It just brings it all full circle, doesn't it?"

Buffy joined in, and before long everyone except for Angel, and Spike, who'd managed to escape, was embroiled in the group hug-fest.

"Would you just look at 'em, Angel?" he said with no small amount of awe in his voice. "When did everyone get so bloody sappy? I mean, it wasn't but a couple of years ago we were all tryin' to kill each other."

"What's a little killing between friends, I always say." Angel stared at the knot of humanity in the center of the room. "Brought you something, too," he said, reaching into his duster's pocket.

Spike unfolded the tissue paper and stared at the small framed oil painting in his hands. It didn't have the style of Angel's charcoals, but the subject... the heart pouring from every deliberate brush stroke. The younger vampire was at a loss for words as he looked into his grandsire's eyes.

"Finally made you speechless, eh, boyo?"

Staring back at Spike were two game-faced vampire children smiling around their fangs. An incongruous sight but one that warmed him from the bottom of his un-beating heart. "How?" he asked, still trying to wrap his thoughts around the image in front of him.

"Um... that would be me," Buffy said as she sauntered up to the vampires in her life, wrapping her arms around her lover's waist. "I sent Angel the Polaroids I'd taken of you when you were a little bampire, and Giles sent the ones he'd taken. Cordelia made him bring it," she whispered into the shell of Spike's ear. "And speaking of Cordelia... I think her highness is getting a bit antsy. C'mon, guys... it's time for our close-ups!"

Using the original photo as a guideline, Cordelia shepherded everyone into place. Anya stood off to the side since she wasn't there the first time.

Spike, Tara, and Buffy sat on the sofa. Of course, the blond couldn't resist putting in his own two cents when Angel attempted to take his place at Spike's side.

"Don't you even think about sitting that wide arse of yours on my lap, ponce. Last thing I need is your crushing weight puttin' me out of commission for tonight's..." Spike winked and made a crude gesture instead of spelling it all out.

"You finish that sentence and there will be no..." Buffy repeated the gesture, eyebrow raised in censure.

Giles perched on her free side, leaving Xander to kneel at Tara's feet on the floor.

Looking through the viewfinder, Cordelia motioned for everyone to squeeze in closer, then took a moment to check with the portrait.

"Okay you guys. Everyone take a 'missing Willow' moment and then flash those pearlies for the camera."

The image of their once close friend in her purple Oshkosh overalls and her fuzzy pink sweater remained in everyone's hearts

"One... two...!"

flash