“Well, fuck.”

“Anya! Language,” Tara said, though the other two women gazing into the large television screen in their plush room didn’t notice.

Anya sighed.

“It’s not fair. Just when everything is going well for those two, he shows up.”

“This is the first time Angelus has been back, thank you very much,” Cordelia said, breaking her silence.

“I didn’t just mean Angelus. Angel always tries to ruin things for Buffy and Spike. I never liked him. Too much forehead for one person generally indicates a bad seed. If he was born in my time we would have stoned him…or drowned him. Probably both though.”

Silence once again filled the room. Anya shrugged.

“Well, I don’t see any deformities on me. I’m just saying…stoning people before they can create children with poor genes has a purpose.”

“Anya, hush,” Joyce said, “You’re sounding like quite the Nazi, dear, and we do have more important things on our agenda than discussing Angel’s forehead, prominent though it may be.”

Nodding, Anya clapped her hands together and a round table with four chairs appeared in the center of the room. Each woman sat down in the cushy chairs behind gold plated nametags. Joyce took a deep breath before beginning.

“So, is there anything that we can do to help Buffy and Spike to defeat Angelus?”

Tara shrugged.

“I can speak with the Powers That Be and see if there’s any way that one of us can visit that realm again, m…maybe if we give them a little bit of warning they’ll be prepared?”

Studying her nails for a moment, Anya sighed.

“I don’t think they’ll need our help.”

Cordelia raised her eyebrow and scoffed.

“And why not? It’s not like we’re worthless! We’re noncorporeal spirits who watch over the two of them and help out when we’re needed!”

“But we aren’t needed,” Anya said.

“I think we are…they could use…a pep talk. Everyone needs a pep talk now and then.”

Joyce rolled her eyes before clapping her hands together.

“Ladies, please. We all know that Buffy and Spike are capable of destroying Angelus once and for all…it’s prophesied. But it’s just that it’s so soon after they returned to that realm…they haven’t fully mastered their powers yet…they could wind up being more of a hindrance than a help.”

Tara caught Joyce’s eye.

“S…so what can we do?”

“I have just the thing. Though I know Buffy won’t care for it.”

--

As Spike read aloud to Buffy from the handbook, she drifted off to sleep. She tried to stay awake through “Metaphysical Manifestations, Metabolic Maladies, Mundane Meetings and You,” but couldn’t fight the urge to submit to the slumber which had alluded her for quite a while. Fluttering her eyes shut, Buffy relaxed as sleep overtook her. Her peaceful state of relaxation was shattered when she realized where her sleep had taken her. She frowned at the desert surrounding her.

“Dammit. Not this again. Alright,” she yelled to the sky above, “Come on out! I know you’re around here somewhere…just, just come out so you can give me some cryptic message and I’ll call Giles and he’ll figure it out just in time. Okay?”

Buffy was surprised when, instead of the First Slayer, a short, curly-haired, five-year-old girl stepped out from behind her. Her eyes were the deepest blue that Buffy had ever seen, and were set against soft features and sun-kissed skin. Buffy knelt down to talk on her level.

“Hi…I’m Buffy, what’s your name?”

The little girl laughed, her curls bouncing in the light breeze that past through the desert.

“I’m Natalia.”

“That’s a very beautiful name.”

“Thanks,” she said with a sniffle, “You picked it out.”

“I did?”

“Yup.”

“Oh…oh! Oh…oh my gosh,” Buffy stammered, the realization finally hitting her. “So I’m your….”

“Mommy.”

“Oh…I’m…I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

“It’s okay, I haven’t been born yet.”

“Any idea when I can expect you?”

“I can’t tell you that. You an’ Daddy hafta find out the normal way.”

“And which way is that?”

“I dunno. Daddy said I’m not supposta to know about the birds and the beets yet.”

Buffy stifled a chuckle as she gazed down at the little girl.

“So why are you here then, Natalia?”

“Gramma wanted me to give you a message.”

“Gramma?”

“Gramma Joyce. She said that you an’ Daddy hafta be extra-careful cuz an angel is gonna be really mean to you. She said…um…he lost his shoes and that you an’ Daddy hafta read chapter five of your book so you can be ready.”

“And how did Gramma know that you’d remember the right chapter?”

“Cuz I’m five and it’s my favorite number. I’ll be six in September, so then my favorite number will be six…but for now it’s five,” she said with a giant smile, showcasing an adorable pair of dimples on either cheek, before gasping. “Uh-oh…I wasn’t a’supposta tell you when I was born.”

“That’s alright, honey, I don’t think you’ll get in trouble for telling me a month. It could be any year, right?”

After thinking for a moment, Natalia nodded, her curls bouncing around her face.

“I guess so. I hafta go now, Mommy…we’re going to see a ruggie game tonight!“

“Ruggie?“

“Dadddy likes it…he says that ‘merican sports are all daft and rot and that I’m gonna have to be a Mannie girl or he’ll be mad at me. I think he’s gonna make Evan play when he gets older too,” she said before gasping, again. “Oh no…I’m gonna get in trouble with Gramma now. I hafta go, Mommy, Daddy says I talk too much like you do an’ it’s gonna get me in trouble like it does for you.”

“He said that did he?”

“Yup. An’ he likes to tell me stories about when you two first met an’ you were a’scared of him cuz he was all mean and fangy.”

“Hmm. Sweetie?”

“Yes, Mommy?”

“When you get home, remind me to have a word with Daddy, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy, I love you! Oh, an’ Gramma says she loves you too an’ be careful.”

Buffy nodded before being enveloped in the tightest hug that two stringy little arms could muster. Natalia waved and smiled before blipping out of existence, leaving Buffy to stand in the desert, alone.

“So…can I wake up now?”