Summary: Wesley discovers he's not up-to-date with the status at chez-Summers.
Rating: PG-13
Spike walked out of the kitchen, hitting the light switch before he went. He was halfway across the living room when the doorbell rang.
He briefly considered ignoring it, since the two people he loved most in the world were safe and accounted for upstairs.
But when the bell rang twice more, he knew that whoever was out there wasn't going away.
"Hey!" Buffy called down from the upstairs bathroom. "You gonna answer that or not?"
"Not?" he yelled back.
"Well do it anyway. I've got a wet, naked baby on my hands."
He smiled, enjoying the mental picture he was developing.
"How about her mother?" he asked, hopefully.
"Fully dressed and totally dry," she reported.
"Fully dressed?"
"Fully"
"And not even a little bit damp?"
"Not even!"
"Everywhere?"
He heard her laugh.
"Just answer the door, hot shot. We'll discuss dampness and undressing later."
At this point, there was nothing in the world Spike wanted to do LESS then answer the damn door, and nothing he wanted to do MORE than go upstairs and help Buffy give Katie her bath.
The bell rang again.
Supremely annoyed, Spike glanced at his watch. Nine o'clock? Who the hell is...
"Who the hell are you?" he asked bluntly, one hand on the doorknob and the other on the frame.
The man standing on the porch was vaguely familiar looking in that same prissy-assed, stuffy English gentleman's way that Buffy's watcher....oh, yeah."
"Wesley Wyndham-Price," the man identified himself. "Is Buffy in this evening?"
"Why?" Spike asked curtly.
Wesley's eyes widened briefly at Spike's lack of courtesy.
"I assure you that I have nothing nefarious planned," he said. "I'm simply an old friend of Buffy's and since I was in the area, I decided to call on her."
"I know who you are," Spike replied, without surrendering his blockade of the doorway.
Wesley's eyes narrowed. "And I know who you are, as well."
"DO you?" Spike drawled, with an intimidating glare, controlling his urge to slip into vamp mode. "You sure about that?"
Either Wesley was not intimidated, or he was very good at hiding it. Whichever it was, he spoke calmly.
"Quite sure...Spike. Now, may I come in?"
The last thing Spike wanted was for this pansy to come in and spend the evening talking over old times with the Slayer. Especially since every word of the conversation would be reported back to Wesley's employer.
"Angel must be hard up for help," he said tauntingly, with a nasty sneer, wanting to provoke the watcher without knowing why.
But Wesley didn't rise to the bait. "There's no reason for this hostility, you know. Angel is well aware of your...relationship...with the slayer."
Oh, I'll just bet he is.. Spike was fairly certain that Angel didn't know the half of it.
"You don't say?" Spike backed up a few steps, allowing Wesley to step into the house.
"Yes," the watcher nodded. "He is. I correspond with...certain people here in Sunnydale, and ..."
"You mean you correspond with Giles?" Spike asked, wanting to be clear on this.
Wesley hesitated. "Yes. Occassionally."
Spike closed the door. "I'll wager it's been a spell since you last...corresponded, right?"
"Yes, quite a long while, actually," Wesley nodded. "We've had a lot to deal with recently and I'm afraid I haven't had the time to keep in touch."
"Uh-huh. We have a telephone, you know," Spike informed the man. "Two lines, call forwarding, answering machine...the works. Here, I'll write the number down for you."
"I know the number," Wesley said frostily. "But since I was in the area, as I said, I decided to.."
"Intrude?" Spike offered.
"...visit." Wesley appeared to be on the verge of losing his temper, but he gathered up some control at the last minute. "Is Buffy home, or is she not?"
Spike nodded, resigned to the fact that Wesley wasn't moving until his question had been answered. "Yeah, she's..."
He stopped and turned when Buffy suddenly appeared at the top of the staircase."
"Wesley?" She seemed pleased to see the man. "Is that you?"
"Hello, Buffy." Wesley smiled at her.
She bounced downstairs and gave her ex-watcher a hug, then looked him over. "Look at you," she exclaimed. "No stuffy old suit and tie...and your hair is longer, too."
Wesley shrugged. "It was time for a change."
"I approve," she said, then turned to look at Spike. "Have you met.."
""We've already introduced ourselves, sweetheart," Spike answered, placing a slight emphasis on the endearment.
"Oh, good." Buffy sensed the tension between the watcher and the vampire, but decided to ignore it. Taking Wesley's arm, she guided him into the living room. "Sit down and tell me how everyone is."
Settling beside her on the sofa, Wesley glanced warily at Spike, as though he were unsure of how much he could say.
Spike sat in the armchair next to the couch and folded his arms across his chest.
"Wesley," Buffy encouraged. "It's okay. Tell me how everyone's doing. Start with Cordelia. Is she really working for you guys?"
Ten minutes later, Spike had completely tuned out the conversation. He began glancing at his watch, hoping Wesley would take the hint and leave.
But the watcher ignored him, giving all his attention to Buffy.
At one point, she went into the kitchen and brought out two bottles of lager and a can of Coke for herself. When she handed one of the bottles to Wesley, he noticed the ring on her left hand and commented on it.
"That is a beautiful ring," he said, taking her hand and studying the gem carefully. "The quality of the emerald is superb."
Buffy opened her mouth to reply, but Spike got there first.
"Yeah, that's why I chose it," he said.
"YOU chose it?" Wesley was visibly surprised. "Well, you certainly made an excellent choice. It's quite stunning."
"Isn't it?" Buffy asked, her eyes soft as she looked at her ring, then looked at Spike. "I just love it."
"Well," Spike said, in a purposely casual tone, "I know that diamonds are more traditional for wedding rings, but emeralds suit her, don't you think? Brings out the green in her eyes."
The bombshell, nonchalantly dropped, landed right on target.
"Wedding ring?!" Wesley's jaw sagged. "You two are married? To each other?"
"Yeah," Buffy answered him, surprised that HE was surprised. "Didn't you know? I thought that Giles would have..."
"Apparently they've been out of touch for a bit, love," Spike explained. "Too busy fighting the things that go bump in the L.A. night, right, Wes?"
Before Wesley could answer, Spike's sharp hearing picked up the sound of the baby stirring in her crib.
"S'cuse me," he said, jumping to his feet and heading for the stairs.
Buffy started to stand. "Is something..."
"Everything's fine, love," he assured her. "Be right back."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He opened the door to the nursery quietly, finding it dimly lit by a night light shaped like a sleeping lamb.
Peering around the side of the door, he saw Katie looking right back at him. She had rolled onto her tummy and was holding her head up, a new talent she'd only recently displayed.
"Hello, sweetheart," he said, smiling down at her. "What's wrong? Not sleepy?"
He picked her up, then sat in the antique rocking chair by the window. Keeping her warm little body snuggled against his shoulder, he patted her back gently.
As he rocked her, he glanced around the room, enjoying the feeling of complete contentment, the utter peace of mind and heart that came from knowing that his wife and daughter were safe and warm and well cared for.
Spike enjoyed spending time in this room. It was decidedly pink and white in it's color scheme, and it had been he and not Buffy who had wanted it that way.
When they had first decided to turn Buffy's old bedroom into a nursery, she had pushed for a neutral choice of colors. She'd spent hours in paint stores, bringing home colored squares of cardboard, pastel nightmares labeled "Mint Cloud", "Peaches and Cream", "Lemon Merengue", and "Melon Sorbet".
Buffy had insisted that these shades would be equally suitable for a boy or a girl, and that, furthermore, they were among her favorite colors.
Spike had suspected that her selection had less to do with the colors themselves, than with her insatiable appetite for sweets. When he had pointed this out to her, she had denied it hotly.
After spending the better part of three hours arguing the point, he had gotten fed up and ended the discussion by telling her that this was his child, too, and the colors were not acceptable to him, further warning her that if she even DREAMED of suggesting they paint the room some bizarre shade of chocolate brown, he would divorce her.
When he had made his own color preference known, Buffy had shaken her head, exasperated at what she called the "old fashioned stereotype that pink was for girls and blue was for boys".
Which was exactly how he felt.
All during the next day, Buffy had dogged him around the house, insisting that since they didn't know the sex of the baby, they had to go with gender neutral colors.
Certain in his own mind that Buffy was carrying a girl, Spike had waited for the sun to go down, then paid a visit to the paint store.
It had taken him less than five minutes to find what wanted. Upon arriving home, he had waved his own selection of cardboard squares labeled, "Cotton Candy", "Bubble Gum Cloud", and "Strawberry Whip", under Buffy's nose.
She had collapsed on the sofa in a fit of giggles, laughing so hard that he'd been afraid she'd laugh herself into a miscarriage.
After she had pulled herself together, she'd thrown her arms around his neck and said, "Daddy wants a little princess, doesn't he?"
When his only reply had been a guilty smile, she had added, "If that's what Daddy wants, then that's what Daddy gets."
Studying the room now, he felt completely justified. There was absolutely no doubt that this room belonged to a little girl.
"To MY little girl," he said out loud. Feeling one of the tidal waves of gooey emotion that had been knocking him flat on a daily basis from the first moment he'd seen her, he held her up under her arms just high enough to see her little face, the face that was a tiny duplicate of her mother's.
"My God," he said softly, amazed all over again at the reality of her. "Just look at you. Look at how beautiful you are."
If anyone had told him that he would ever be able to love another person as much as he loved Buffy, he would have laughed in their stupid faces.
But he saw the proof of it everytime he looked into his daughter's eyes and felt the unspoken trust she had in him to see to it that she was always warm, always safe, and that her tummy was never hungry for more than a few moments.
"Be glad you're up here, sweetness," he said, holding her against his shoulder again. "You wouldn't believe how boring Angel's lap dog is."
Although he had complete and utter faith in the strength of Buffy's love for him and her devotion to their family, Spike would never really be rid of his lingering distaste for Angel.
His feelings for his sire had changed over the years. He'd liked him well enough when he'd been Angelus, the embodiment of everything evil.
Angelus had taught him how to take pleasure in human suffering, to enjoy the power, to revel in the terror of the innocent.
He'd been an excellent teacher, and Spike had been a willing student.
For years, Angelus, Darla, Dru, and William the Bloody had rampaged across Europe, leaving a trail of death, and blood, and horror in their wake.
But even as early as the time before he'd killed his first slayer, Spike had begun to dislike the little family unit that Angelus had declared himself leader of. He had started shoving back, ignoring instructions, disregarding caution, and drinking far more than he should have.
By the time they left China, Spike had been thoroughly sick and tired of being pushed around by Angel and nagged by Darla. Even the pleasure he'd found in Drusilla's bed hadn't been enough to offset his irritation.
Shortly after arriving in Romania, he had decided that it was time for their "family" to split up, though he hadn't been quite sure how he was going to pull it off, what with Dru being so sickeningly attached to her "Daddy".
Of course, the problem had been solved one night when Angelus went out to hunt, and never returned. They had searched for him at first, but quickly found themselves on the run from some Gypsy clan that he'd apparently crossed paths with.
There were too many of them to fight, and Spike had been the first one to suggest that Angelus was mostly likely dust, and it was time to get themselves out of the country.
Dru had vacillated, wailing and weeping, and Darla had flat out refused to leave. But when an angry mob had begun to assemble in the town square, Spike had stolen a horse and wagon and forced the women into it.
Eventually, he had Dru had separated from Darla, and Spike had enjoyed decades of Angelus-free years, roaming the world with his demon lover.
Then, they had landed in Sunnydale, turning his world completely off kilter when something he had once thought of as the biggest mistake of his life became the best thing that had ever happened to him.
He'd had no idea that Angelus was in the same town until he'd seen him in a darkened hallway of Sunnydale High School, the night that he'd gone up against Buffy for the first time, the night everything had flipped upside down by the prettiest girl he'd ever laid eyes on.
It hadn't taken long to figure out the change in Angelus, no matter how well he thought he'd disguised it.
That phony cameraderie, hail fellow well met attitude of his had been the first clue. They'd never liked each other THAT well.
When he had discovered that Angelus had allied himself with the Slayer, his ancient dislike had turned to full blown anger and disgust.
"How was I supposed to know she'd be so damned irrestible?" he said, kissing the top of Katie's head.
Even after having the soul sucked back out of him, returning him to his bad old self, Spike hadn't wanted anything to do with Angel.
From the minute he'd darkened their figurative doorstep, he'd walked right back into his role of Big Boss Vampire, and he'd fully expected Spike and Dru to fall into line behind him
Which, of course, Drusilla had done. Without thinking twice, she'd fallen into line, then fallen into Angel's bed on a regular basis.
The anger and hate he'd then harbored for Angel, had turned out to be nothing compared with what was still ahead.
As much as Spike had despised him for stealing Drusilla, it had been like a drop of water in an endless sea compared to loathing, the acidic hatred, and the bitter jealousy he'd felt because Buffy, his beautiful Slayer, had loved Angel first.
Even now, even though Buffy belonged to him, with his ring on her finger and their baby in his arms, just the thought of Angel touching her made Spike white-hot with rage.
"Do you know that idiot downstairs didn't know that Mommy and Daddy are married? God, I can't wait until he scampers home and tells Angel all about it."
He smiled. "I can just see his face. Those big old puppy dog eyes'll go all wide and hurt when he hears who won the heart of the fairy princess. I'd love to be there when it happens."
Spike felt a brief moment of embarrassment for gloating so shamelessly, but he just couldn't help himself. Buffy was HIS wife, and Katie was HIS daughter. This was something that Angel, with all his 'soulfulness', would never have.
Suddenly, his keen sense of smell detected a familiar odor, and he chuckled. "I think you're a little wet, sweetness. Let's take care of that, hmm?"
One of the advantages of his being a vampire was the fact that he knew the instant the baby's diaper was even a little bit wet. Consequently, Katie had only suffered from a diaper rash one time.
Laying her on the changing table, he made quick work of the chore. As he cleaned her tiny bottom, he almost laughed out loud at himself.
Who would EVER have imagined "William the Bloody" changing a diaper?
But he didn't mind doing it. He never had, no matter how nasty the diaper turned out to be; it just didn't bother him. He had seen and smelled and washed off many things way more disgusting.
Demon slime, demon snot, demon vomit. He'd seen and smelled it all. A little baby poo certainly wasn't gonna cross his eyes.
When he had the wet diaper off and the fresh one in place, he sprinkled a little baby powder on her bottom before he fastened it. Not that she needed it, but because he liked the way it made her smell.
Spike zipped Katie back into her sleeper, and scooped her up off the changing table.
"Better, yes?" he asked. "I think so too."
Since Buffy had nursed her less than an hour ago, Spike carried his daughter across the room, kissed her soft little cheeks, and placed her in her crib.
After tucking her quilt around her, he found one of her pacifiers and teased her lips with it until she latched on and began sucking fiercely.
He stood next to the crib and looked down at the baby, losing himself in the miracle of her existence.
"What did I ever do to deserve you?" he asked quietly, letting her wrap her tiny fist around his forefinger.
The answer to that question was glaringly obvious...he hadn't done a damn thing. Her appearance in his life was simply the purest stroke of luck he'd ever had.
Sometimes he would gaze into her wide blue eyes..his eyes..and be struck dumb by the knowledge that he was the father of this wonderful child...that he was a father at all.
A series of coincidences almost Dickensian in their scope had brought him here. Being in the right place at the right time was the only way he could explain it.
If he'd never gone to that embarrassing dinner party; if he'd stayed there; if he'd gone straight home after his humiliation, there would have been no Drusilla, no Angelus, no immortality.
He would no doubt have died sometime around 1925 or so, IF he'd managed to survive things such as influenza epidemics, inadequate medical care in unsanitary surroundings, and all manner of thugs prowling the streets of London.
But whether by fate, or accident, or design, Katie was here. And she was his...his and the slayer's.
He had something that Angel, even with his penny ante soul, would never have.
If I didn't dislike him so much, I might feel sorry for him..
He tugged his finger out of the baby's clutches, and caressed her satiny cheek with it. "Goodnight, Princess...sweet dreams."
Spike had his hand on the doorknob when a new thought popped unannounced into his head, making him turn around and go back to the crib.
"Want to come downstairs and meet our company?" he asked, picking the baby up. "Let's go then. Daddy wants to show you off."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Halfway down the staircase, he paused, eavesdropping unashamedly on the conversation in the living room.
"Obviously, Angel knows that you and Spike are..involved.."
"Married," Buffy interjected.
"Of course. I'm sorry." Wesley cleared his throat. "Married."
Spike could almost see the pained expression on the man's face.
"Although," Wes continued, "I know...and I'm sure that you know as well, it's not precisely a marriage..in the legal sense of the word."
Buffy sighed. "Wesley.."
"I'm just saying," he went on quickly. "that you can't have procured a marriage license since there's no way for Spike to prove his identity, or even his existence for that matter. There certainly could have been no blood test."
"No," Buffy admitted.
"Was your..ceremony..performed by a properly ordained minister...or a judge, perhaps?"
"Not exactly."
"Well, then," Wesley continued, "he is hardly your husband. It's not..binding."
After a long pause, Buffy said, "Sometimes there are more important things than legality, Wesley. And, believe me, it's binding. In every way that really matters."
That's telling him, love..
Wesley wasn't convinced. "Buffy," he said earnestly, "I'm sure you're aware that such a relationship between a slayer and a vampire is...highly unorthodox, to say the least."
"Maybe," Buffy admitted. "But I've never really been orthodox girl. YOU should know that."
"I just mean that..well, with Angel..it was understandable. He has a.."
"DON'T SAY IT," Buffy snapped. "Please do not give me the "evil demon without a soul can't possibly love you" lecture. I've heard it!"
Even halfway upstairs, Spike could hear the anger beginning to rise in his wife's voice. Careful, mate. You do NOT want to piss that little lady off..
"From Mr. Giles, I'd wager," Wesley suggested.
"Actually, no," Buffy said. "Giles has been very supportive. In fact, he gave me away at my wedding."
Wesley was, apparently, speechless.
"And I'm telling you that it isn't true. I'll admit..I used to think the same thing. But I was wrong."
"Buffy.."
She railroaded right over whatever Wesley had been about to say.
"My husband loves me," Buffy said in serious, measured tones. "My husband..a vampire..loves me..a slayer."
Now it was Wesley's turn to sigh. "This has never been documented in any of the Watcher's journals I've studied."
"Yes, it has," Buffy disagreed. "Study the journals Giles has been keeping. It's documented all over the damn things."
"I meant any OTHER Watcher's journals. Nothing has ever been written or reported."
"Then I guess you're gonna have to take my word for it. There's a first time for everything, you know."
Spike knew just by listening to her what expression was on her face.
It was her stubborn "Because I say so" kind of expression, hardheaded and dogmatic.
But she seemed to be trying to control herself, and her voice suddenly returned to it's normal register.
"Look, Wesley...I don't know 'how' or 'why' it happened, and I don't really care. I mean..why does it matter, anyway?"
There was another subtle change in her tone.
"And come to think of it...what business is it of yours?"
Absolutely none! So go back where you damn well came from and leave us alone..
"What...what business is it of mine?" Wesley sounded incredulous. "You are the Slayer and I am a Watcher."
"You're not MY Watcher," Buffy said.
Take THAT, you sanctimonius shithead!
"Whether I am your Watcher or not," Wesley blustered. "I'm still concerned for you."
"Well, don't be," Buffy said. "I'm fine."
There was a long silence that Wesley finally broke.
"About Angel," he began.
"What about Angel?" Buffy prompted.
Yeah! What ABOUT Angel?
> "You must know that Angel still..cares for you, Buffy. Even if you can't be with him, you're still very much a part of his life. He will always love you."
Only the fact that he had a baby in his arms prevented Spike from going into the living room and grabbing Wesley by the throat, then hold him twelve inches off the ground until he flopped like a fish on a hook.
You go to hell. And before you do, tell Angel to stop thinking about MY wife..
"And I'll always care about him," Buffy said sincerely. "But he's my past, and Spike is my future."
That's my girl Spike felt a thrill of pride and possessiveness. Remind me to do something special to you later..
Buffy was speaking again.
"I realized something a long time ago. Somthing that was..difficult..to accept at first."
Wesley was silent, waiting for her to continue.
"I realized that Spike loves me a lot more than Angel ever did."
These words surprised Spike. They were absolutely true of course, but she'd never said it before.
"I know that Angel loved me..as much as he could. When we made love.."
Spike's jaw tightened.
"..it was wonderful. He told me over and over again that he loved me. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't strong enough to hold him to me after he changed. He didn't even TRY."
"Buffy..that was.."
"Angelus." She cut him off. "I know that. But they were both still Angel. Just two different sides."
"But he..he" the Watcher stammered. "You know he couldn't help himself. That he couldn't control his demon."
"Spike does" Buffy said simply. "He's done it for years..because he loves me enough to do it."
"Perhaps. But the chip..."
"Will you just forget about that stupid chip?" Buffy said angrily. "That chip just prevents him from harming humans. It doesn't make him love me..doesn't force him to fight beside me..and it certainly didn't zap him into putting this ring on my finger."
Her tone changed abruptly, and she sounded amused. "Do you really think that Spike couldn't have found a way around the chip if he'd wanted to? Don't underestimate him, Wesley. He's a lot smarter than he gets credit for."
About time someone noticed that..
"And I'll tell you something else about that chip," Buffy added. "If it ever stops working..it won't make a damn bit of difference."
She paused a moment.
"For all we know, it might have already stopped working."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well..he hasn't tried to hurt anyone for...gee, I don't even KNOW how long...maybe three years? No fighting, no killing.."
Spike heard the mischief creeping into her voice and he mentally braced himself.
"And the only one he bites these days is me."
BUFFY!! DON'T TELL HIM THAT!!
Wesley sounded equally as horrified at Buffy's admission, albeit for a different reason.
"Bites you! Am I to understand that Spike BITE'S you? For BLOOD? That you ALLOW him to do so?"
"It's not like it happens every day," Buffy said. "Just...sometimes."
Is it any of HIS business what WE do in OUR bed??
"What...what about his chip? Doesn't it activate when he bites you?"
"Not a peep out of it," Buffy said brightly.
"He hurts you...causes you physical pain.. and the chip does nothing?"
"There's pain...and there's pain. Know what I'm saying?"
Spike knew that, if he could see Wesley's face, it would be bright red.
"Anyway," Buffy said. "Angel loved me..and then he left me..lock, stock, and soul. He didn't stay...he didn't fight...God, he didn't even say goodbye."
She sighed deeply.
"And, Spike...without a soul anywhere on him...stayed with me. Because he loves me enough to turn his back on everything he'd done for like...a hundred years."
Another pause.
"Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
"I..I suppose I do. I don't know how I shall make Angel understand, but.."
"Don't even try," Buffy said. "It doesn't matter whether he understands or not, as long as he accepts."
"Yes, well...he might have a difficult time even accepting," Wesley said. "You two have a history together.."
"Yes. History. Something in the past."
Wesley said nothing.
"Besides, Spike and I have a bit of history too. Not to mention a full and...challenging future."
Spike whispered to the baby. "That's our cue."
Buffy was sitting on the sofa, facing the stairs, and was the first to see Spike with the baby.
"Did you wake her up?" she scolded.
Spike shook his head. "Did not. She was awake when I got there."
Wesley turned around. A look of mild surprise crossed his face when he saw what Buffy was looking at with such tenderness.
"What a beautiful baby," he exclaimed, rising to his feet.
"Her name is Katherine Rose," Buffy said, supplying the answer to the question she knew would come next.
"Well, she's just lovely." Wesley watched Spike place the baby in Buffy's arms. "Whose is she?"
She stared at him. "Um..she's mine. What, do you think...that I'm keeping some strangers baby upstairs?"
Wesley's expression could only be described as shell shocked. "She's yours? You have a baby? You have THIS baby?"
Buffy nodded, her eyes dancing with amusement.
"She's mine. I have a baby. I have THIS baby."
Wesley sank back down on the sofa. "I have been out of touch for FAR too long," he mumbled under his breath.
Spike just grinned as he reclaimed the arm chair. Wanting to make sure that Wesley had plenty of information to take back to Los Angeles, he said, "She looks like her mother, doesn't she?"
"Well, I...that is to say.." Wesley sputtered. "Now that I..take another look..I'd say yes. She DOES a..remarkable resemblance to you, Buffy."
Buffy smiled proudly. "She has her father's eyes."
"Does she?" Wesley leaned forward to peer more closely at the baby. "Who IS her father, if you don't mind me asking?"
Spike bolted upright in his chair. "I'M her bloody father, you nit!"
There was an uneasy silence as Wesley attempted to sort this information out.
"Well," he finally said. "That's a wonderful and..commendable attitude. I imagine that it's not easy raising another man's child, thinking of her as yours, especially when your..wife..is the childs mother."
"Wesley..." Buffy began.
"I don't THINK of her as mine," Spike said harshly. "She IS mine!"
Wesley shook his head in denial, confident that he was right. "That is impossible. You cannot be this child's biological father. Vampires do NOT procreate. They can't."
Spike leaned forward, pinning his angry gaze on Wesley. "What exactly are you saying?" he asked in dangerously polite tones. "That my wife has been unfaith..."
"Spike!" Buffy said sharply. "Settle down. It's a valid question."
She turned back to Wesley. "Remember what I said before? About there being a first time for everything?"
"But..but it's never been..."
"Documented," Buffy said. "I know."
She turned the baby in her arms, displaying her for admiration. "Come on, Wesley...look at her. Tell me this isn't the most beautiful baby you've ever seen."
"She's very beautiful," Wesley said sincerely. "But I can't understand how in the world she came to be. Have YOU an explanation?"
Buffy glanced at Spike and shrugged. "A miracle?" When she looked back at Wesley, she saw skepticism on his face. "No, I don't have an explanation. Maybe whoever's in charge of these things decided I've done enough good deeds and thought I deserved a reward."
Wesley sat mutely for a moment, then said, "If anybody DOES deserve this kind of reward..it would YOU, Buffy."
He looked at Spike. "And you as well, it would seem. Congratulations on your lovely daughter."
"Thank you," Spike said ungraciously.
Wesley stood up again. "It's getting late," he observed. "I think..."
Spike jumped to his feet. "So it is. Don't let us keep you."
"Quit it," Buffy hissed.
"What'd I say?"
Buffy followed Wesley to the door. Holding the baby in one arm, she gave Wesley a brief hug with the other. "It was nice seeing you again, Wes."
"It was wonderful seeing you, too." He returned her hug. "I'm glad to know that you're so happy, Buffy. And I know Angel will be, too."
Standing directly behind Buffy, Spike shifted from one foot to the other, impatiently. He dug his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and extracted a small picture.
"Give this to him," he said, extending the photo. "The hospital took it when she was born."
"But..don't YOU want to keep it," Wesley asked.
Buffy answered him. "We have a lot more," she assured him, giving Spike her "behave yourself" expression.
He blithely ignored it. "Buffy takes lot of pictures. She's filled three photo albums already. We'll send you some more."
"Yes, I'm sure you will," Wesley replied, knowing exactly what Spike was inferring.
Stepping out onto the porch, he pulled his car keys from his pocket. "Well, goodbye, then."
"Bye, Wes," Buffy said. "Take care."
"Yeah, you DO that," Spike added cheerfully. "And be sure and tell Angel that we said hello."
He swung the door closed in Wesley's face, then locked the deadbolt.
When he turned around, Buffy was staring at him, shaking her head.
"What?" he asked innocently.
"WWhhaatt!" she mimicked him as she climbed the stairs. "For a minute there I thought you were about to insist on going along and showing her to Angel in person."
"What's THAT supposed to mean?" he asked defensively. "Can I help it if I'm proud of my daughter? She happens to be beautiful, you know."
"Oh, please..." Buffy groaned. "You just want to make sure to rub Angel's nose in all of this."
"All of what?" Spike asked, pushing open the door to the nursery.
Buffy placed the baby in her crib, tucking her quilt around her.
"Gee, I don't know," she said. "Maybe in the fact that YOU have a child and HE doesn't. That YOU'RE my husband and HE'S not. Not to mention the fact that YOU gave me a way more expensive ring."
"I didn't give you that ring to impress Angel," Spike retorted.
Buffy shrugged. "Maybe not...but you made sure that Wesley found out everything about it."
She turned on the baby moniter, then faced her husband. "Don't you look at ME that way," she chided. "You know what you were doing."
"Wasn't" he denied, leaning over to kiss the baby goodnight.
"Like hell you wasn't," Buffy snorted.
He tried to hold her gaze defiantly, but couldn't quite manage it. "All right, I was," he muttered. "So sue me."
In reply, Buffy took his hand and pulled him out of the room.
"Actually," she said, leading him down the hallway to their bedroom. "It was kind of cute. Childish..but cute."
Spike closed the bedroom door with his foot, wrapping his arms around his wife. "I can live with that." he said, urging her down on the bed.
Lowering his head, he kissed her thoroughly, then trailed his mouth down the soft skin of her throat. "You're mine," he said softly.
"I know," Buffy whispered.
"Say it!" he demanded. "Say that you're mine."
"I'm yours, baby...I'm all yours."
He bit down gently on her earlobe, making her shiver.
"But remember," she said. Placing her hands on his chest, she shoved him off and quickly followed, straddling his hips. "You're mine, too."
Spike grinned, slipping his hands under her shirt to unhook her bra. "Always have been, love. Minute I saw you..I knew I was a goner."
She gave him a look. "Right. And all that fighting and trying to kill me stuff was your way of showing me how much you cared."
"Don't remind me of that at a time like this." He frowned. "Just come hear and give him great big juicy..."
His words were cut off by the baby moniter suddenly emitting baby type noises.
They both froze, staring at the gadget.
"She's settling down," Buffy said after a few moments. She bent her head to kiss him, but he was tense. "Come on, babe. It's all right."
Spike tried to get into the spirit of the moment, then shook his head and pushed her off of him. "I can't. I have to check."
Buffy sighed. "She's fine. Those were just 'happy baby going to sleep' noises."
He avoided her reaching hands. "Yeah, but what if it's not? What if it's something awful and we didn't check? How would you feel in the morning?"
Buffy thought for a moment, then scrambled off the bed. "Let's go."
Thirty seconds later, they were back in their room.
"There," Buffy said. "Feel better now?"
Spike grinned. "Much." Placing his hands on her waist, he spun her and tossed her back on the bed. "Now let's get back to big and juicy."
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