Buffy awoke to a sensation of blissful relaxation. Blinking the dryness from her eyes, she gazed at a still shirtless Spike holding and massaging her right foot. Her left foot already felt kneaded and loose.

He must have already done that one, dummy.

He smiled broadly when he caught Buffy’s sleepy eyes.

“Well, g’morning Mommy.”

She cringed slightly.

"Spike…no. Not used to that yet…it’s a whole year or so before they’ll be able to say that, anyway. Right?”

He laughed.

"You’ve obviously never been around kids much have you, pet? No, they start that up pretty quickly. Six months at the most. And they always seem to say ‘Mama’ first.”

She tried to scowl at Spike, but broke out into an almost blindingly brilliant grin. He had never seen her so happy.

“Well, that’s how it should be.”

“Indeed, pet.”

Spike and Buffy sat in silence for minutes that seemed like years. Spike finally broke it, standing up and beginning to fidget.

“Buffy, what I said before…never mind it, yeah? I want the tykes to have a somewhat normal life…they don’t need to have anything more complicated.”

He motioned over to the corner of Buffy’s hotel room where an inexpensive crib, cushioned with t-shirts, held the two tiny, sleeping infants. Buffy silently chided herself for thinking of Spike first, before walking in awe to the crib. Spike hugged her from behind, looking over her shoulder at their children.

“You thought of names yet, pet?”

“Well, I only had one name picked out for certain…”

“And what was that, love?”

"No, you’ll laugh at me.”

“Pet, we’ve been through enough for that not to bother you. I’ll laugh at you regardless, and you’ll laugh at me regardless. So out with it. What’d you pick?”

“I thought I was only having a boy, so I named him William.”

Spike’s face softened, and Buffy noticed his chest puffing out in pride slightly.

“Lovely sentiment. I never took to the name m’self, but he looks like a William. A lot stronger than I was.”

They both smiled at their son. Buffy lightly stroked the soft back of their daughter.

“But what about her? I never even thought…”

“Joyce.”

Buffy stared at Spike for a moment.

“My mother?”

“She was the nicest….she…she was a wonderful woman, Buffy. First human in a hundred years I didn’t see as food or a challenge. I know how much your mum meant to you. It’s the right thing to do, love. If you remember, your mum liked me before you did.”

“That’s true…so…are they William and Joyce Summers or…uh…William and Joyce ‘The Bloody’?”

Spike frowned.

“Oh, like I don’t have a last name, eh?”

“Well, I’ve only heard of you as Spike or William the Bloody. Ick…does that mean I have to be Mrs. The Bloody? Because I seriously doubt that’ll look good monogrammed on towels.”

Shaking his head and smiling, Spike chuckled at Buffy’s confused expression.

“God, Buffy, I do love you, you know.”

“I know. I love you too.”

“Right. So, I haven’t quite thought about my name since I was turned, so I guess this is kind of a big deal, yeah?”

“Should I do a drum roll?”

“Y’know, if you’re going to make fun, I’m not going to tell you. You’ll have to be Mrs. The Bloody for all eternity and have people snicker at you.”

“Sorry. I’ll be good…promise.”

“Yeah, yeah…heard that one before. Well, my name is as anti-climactic as a name can be, Buffy, so, sorry.”

“So it is…?”

“Pratt. William the Bloody Pratt.”

“Pratt? Like, ‘Stop being such a Pratt?’ Your name is a sort of curse word?”

Buffy could hardly contain her laughter, but Spike seemed less amused.

“Y’ promised now…I haven’t used that name since my own mum passed….”

Buffy’s giggling expression shifted into concern, and she wrapped a tender arm around Spike’s waist, pulling him into her chest.

“We’re kindred spirits Spike. I think that’s why we’ve always managed to find each other, one way or another.”

He turned and kissed her forehead.

“I should probably let the others know you’re….”

Buffy violently pushed Spike onto the bed, climbing on top of him and pining him down.

“No…you’re going to do what Anya told you to do to me. Spike…I want you to claim me.”

Spike sat up, pulling Buffy to his eyelevel, allowing her to straddle him.

“Buffy, love, I can’t risk anything happening to you…to the kids…Angel is right…it’s too dangerous.”

“I love how everyone besides me decides what’s right for my life. The kids need their father, and I need you! If you don’t do this, we’ll all lose you forever. Spike, I’m no good without you. I can’t handle it…how can a broken down Buffy raise two kids alone? Let alone two immortal kids….”

Spike could feel himself hardening underneath Buffy’s warmth. When she began to stroke his leg, he growled softly.

“Buffy, pet…you just gave birth a few hours ago…it’s too soon…we...we just have to wait, yeah?”

“I guess,” Buffy said, yawning.

“You’re too tired anyhow, pet. Sleep now. We’ll figure something else out.”

“But what Anya said….”

“What Anya said can wait until the morning, pet.”

“But they’ll take you if….”

Spike picked her up in his arms and laid her down on the bed, tucking her underneath the sheets.

“You want me though, yeah?”

“Of course….”

“Well, then, that should be good enough for the bird. I’m not taking any more energy out of you tonight, pet.”

Buffy dreamily nodded, her eyes fluttering shut. Spike stood above her for a moment before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. He pulled a chair up next to the crib holding their sleeping infants. He watched their chests rise and fall until sunrise, with an overwhelming sense of pride and love.

--
Three weeks later, Buffy had finally regained most of her superhuman abilities, though she was still slightly tired. Having no other home to go to, and refusing to stay with Angel again, Spike, Buffy, and their children remained in the small hotel room.

“We’ll find some place to go to, love,” he had told her. “I promise.”

Since Spike’s return to Buffy’s side, she hadn’t needed to tap into her own resources. She didn’t ask him where he got his funds from, but she was relieved to be taken care of for the first time since her mother was alive. The twins were growing quickly; Buffy and Spike were enthralled to watch every new thing they learned to do. Joyce had already begun to crawl, giving Buffy and Spike a new worry with the state of the hotel’s carpet. Anya had mentioned that the children would be powerful, but Buffy was still amazed at how quickly they were growing.

Spike entered the hotel room, and Buffy was quick to hush him.

“Shh…they’re sleeping!”

“Finally?”

She beamed.

“It was a lot of work to put Joyce down…she loves the nighttime, just like her Daddy.”

“I only love it when I’m with you, pet.”

Spike pulled Buffy close to him, and breathed in her scent.

“You smell lovely Buffy.”

Feeling her arousal begin to awaken, Buffy stepped slightly back from Spike. She knew that he only had her best interests at heart, but she was still frustrated from being left hanging for three weeks.

“I should probably get some sleep….”

“Oh no you don’t, Slayer. You’re feeling like your old self again, yeah?”

“I guess so…why?”

In a flash, Buffy was back in Spike’s arms. Barely able to restrain his inner beast, Spike reached up to Buffy’s shoulders and slipped the straps of her flimsy tank top off her. She shimmied out of the rest of her top before wriggling free of her silky pajama bottoms. Spike’s long member was now throbbing at attention. He licked his lips as she brushed up against him.

“Love…if you keep doing that, I won’t be able to stop m’self. You sure this is what you want? There’s no going back y’know….”

She nodded as she unzipped the dress pants he was wearing. Spike freed himself of the pant’s constraints, tossing them into a heap on the floor. Buffy’s eyes rolled back and she gasped quietly as Spike kissed and licked at her nipples.

“I’m yours Spike…always will be….”

That was all the assent that Spike needed. He quickly flipped her onto her back. His hard cock begged for attention as he lightly kissed Buffy’s taut stomach, moving slowly downward to her smooth mound. He looked up at her and smiled.

“I see you’ve given yourself a little haircut?”

Blood rushed back to Buffy’s face, though it didn’t diminish the blood flowing to another region.

“I read that it was good for delivery, so I figured I’d try it beforehand, and I liked it so much, I’ve kept it up.”

“I’m glad you did, kitten. You’re breathtaking.”

Spike buried his face between her legs, his long, lithe tongue lapping at her clit. Buffy moaned in response as his nimble fingers slipped into her folds. A slick wetness washed over his hands as she tensed, then relaxed in a series of spasms.

Buffy pulled Spike up from between her legs, pushing him onto his side. Sinking down to his crotch level, Buffy began to lick and suck on Spike’s full member. As he groaned in pleasure, she took his girth fully into her mouth.

“God! Buffy!”

Spike pulled himself out of her soft mouth, again flipping her onto her back, and pressed his thick cock into her wet folds. She gasped as he widened her warm channel.

“Oh Spike! I’m yours…all yours!”

Sensing her readiness and his building orgasm, Spike vamped out.

“Buffy, love, d’you trust me?”

She nodded.

“With everything…oh, God! Oh, Spike, yes!”

“You’re mine, Slayer!”

As Spike bit into Buffy’s neck, the marks left by Angel and Dracula faded into oblivion.

“Yours,” she repeated. “And you’re mine, Vampire.”

“Yours!”

Buffy’s blunt human teeth dug into Spike’s neck, and, as had happened with Buffy, Drusilla’s marks faded from his neck. So entranced in themselves, neither Buffy nor Spike noticed the bright red glow emanating from their hearts. The glow began to fill the room, surrounding the pair and hovering over the cradle. Buffy felt Spike’s essence fill her, his memories coursing through her veins. Scenes of important moments flashed within her—his mother’s illness, his devotion to Cecily and her cold dismissal of him. She saw his turning, and his love for an equally cold Drusilla. The battles between Spike and the two Slayers he triumphed over lingered, and Buffy watched in awe of his power and mental prowess.

Her eyes filled with tears as she witnessed the pain she had caused Spike; no matter what good he did. She realized, in horror, that her own cruelty to Spike was far worse than any Cecily or Drusilla could have inflicted. Tears rolling down her face, Buffy gasped for breath as she was released from the vision. She could now feel the distinct difference, and could feel Spike within her blood…in her mind…in everything. She felt stronger, nay, invincibly strong. Spike gasped, and brought her back to reality.

“Spike, what just happened?”

“Don’t deserve your love…get back!”

Spike crawled back into a corner of the hotel room, covering his face.

“I can’t…no. Hurt you too much, Buffy. And I can’t…I can’t let you get hurt again….”

“No! Spike…Spike please!”

“I saw you, Buffy. I saw what I did to you. God! That night…I wish I never came back to haunt you…why can’t you just be rid of me? God I’ve been such a monster….”

Buffy took his hand, not allowing him to pull it back.

“You weren’t the monster, Spike. I was. I was no better than Cecily or Drusilla…I saw your loyalty, strength and love and I exploited you…I’m so sorry…Spike…forgive me?”

“Buffy…I don’t deserve you.”

A shrill voice interjected.

“No, you don’t, but what do I know?”

Wiping tears from each other’s cheeks, Spike and Buffy managed weak smiles.

“Hello Anya….”

--