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



Part one....


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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is that a fact?" Buffy asked.

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

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

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

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

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

Buffy nodded. "Uh-huh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Besides, they smelled fantastic.

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

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

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

"Favorite cookie. I know."

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

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

Buffy swallowed and reached for another cookie.

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

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

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

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

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



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



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

"Oh, I already have a..."

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

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

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

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

Buffy shrugged. "Well..."

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

Buffy opened her mouth to speak.

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

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

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

"What's that..."

"Do look it up, dear. It's what dictionaries were in-
vented for."

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

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

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

Buffy was surprised, and it showed on her face.

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

Dawn nodded slowly. "Uh-huh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


TBC.....
Comments, please?

Title: The F.G.U.
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks
Summary: Buffy has a late night
visitor. Just a little bit of whimsical
silliness.



Part two....



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



Buffy sat back up. "Do you have a name?"

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

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

"Why certainly," Mrs. Potter smiled sweetly.

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

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

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

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

"Afraid of what?" Buffy frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

"Hold out your hand and close your eyes," she in-
structed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mrs. Potter gave her an expectant look.

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

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

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

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

"How come? I mean, why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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



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

Buffy looked surprised. "What about me?"

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

"Which was...?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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



There was a long pause.

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

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

"The who?"

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

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

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

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

Buffy nodded. "Makes sense."

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

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

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

"Can you give me a hint?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



TBC....

Comments?

Title: The F.G.U.
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Summary: See previous chap.




Part three....


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


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

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

**Not always** Buffy thought to herself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I was hungry?" Buffy ventured.

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

Suitably chastened, Buffy mumbled an agreement.

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

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

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

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

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



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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Waiting for you, kitten," he whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cookies," Buffy said succinctly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Make love to me."

*********************************************************8


Part 4









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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, I was hoping...."

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

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

"Shhh."

"Sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she wanted more....

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

"Suck them," she demanded, thrusting herself for-
ward.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"....Buffy.."

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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



TBC......

Title: The F.G.U.
By: Pattyanne
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me


Part 5



A few weeks later....



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

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

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




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

Sometimes, the storybooks get it right!

With deepest affection,
Abigail Potter, (Mrs) '



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until now.

With her hands shaking slightly, she performed the test.

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

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

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

That happiness was muted by a sudden worrisome
thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hmm." He looked amused.

"What?" she asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again, she beat the unpleasant thoughts down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Or witches," he continued.

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

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

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

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

Buffy pushed his hand away. "Very funny."

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

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

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

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

"I'm all ears, Princess."

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

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

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

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

His eyebrow arched. "What's that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

If he'd needed to breathe, he'd have been hyper-
ventilating himself into unconsciousness.

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

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

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

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

"Spike..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Frequently."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Never?" Buffy asked, biting her lip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The memory was etched in her brain....

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes. You were," he stated firmly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



TBC.......

Title: The F.G.U.
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary: See chapter one



Part six......

Ten months later...



Buffy groaned and buried her face in her pillow.

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

Everything.

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

And a fussy little bundle it was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spike nodded, gazing out the window. "I always did."



~~The End~~