Chapter 11
“Rise and shine, princess.”
Buffy stood on the other side of Sarah's bed and watched as William slipped the thumb out of her mouth with special care.
“I know it's a bad habit, love, but she should give it up naturally by the time she turns four.”
Buffy didn't say a word, but William continued to whisper. “Jamie just stopped sucking his thumb, so we're sure she's soon to follow. That's the best thing about twins, they're a couple of bloody monkeys.”
“Monkeys?”
“You know,” he explained, giving Sarah a nudge, “monkey see, monkey do. Anyway, we were happy to see Jamie do something before Sarah. She was potty trained first. She learned to walk first and talk first. In fact, until he caught up, she acted like an interpreter. She always knew exactly what he was trying to say. She can still fill us in when he's talking with his mouth full, and he can do the same, vice versa.”
“That sounds handy.”
“It is.” He gave Sarah another nudge, and she whimpered in protest. “My, aren't you a little deadhead today? Don't you want to get up, baby? You aren't sick, are you?”
“Nooo,” Sarah replied, hiding her face in the pillow.
“Are you sure? Buffy, keep an eye on her while I fetch the thermometer--.”
“Daddy, I'm not sick.”
“Then why won't you get out of bed, kitten?
“The quicker I go to sleep, the quicker Santa'll come. You say that the quicker I go to sleep, daddy; the quicker that Santa'll come. And I want him here right now.”
“Oh…oh, I see.” He turned to flash Buffy a close-lipped smile, clearly impressed. “My girl's smart, isn't she?”
“Very,” Buffy agreed, returning his grin.
“Well, bit, you can sleep as long as you like, but you'll miss out on the fun that we've got planned for this afternoon…”
“Fun?” she asked, peeking open one eye. “What kinda--.”
“Fun?!” Jamie cried from across the room, buried under a pile of blankets. “What kinda fun?! Are we going to the zoo?! Oh, I love the zoo! I wanna see the buffaloes! I'll wake up if we see the buffaloes!
“Buffaloes?” Buffy asked, catching William's eye. “Why buffaloes?”
“I haven't the foggiest.” He left Sarah's bed to stand at Buffy's side. “I hate to say it,” he whispered, “but your son's a strange kid. He's got a whole discourse on how the bloody buffalo is the best animal on the planet.”
“Really?” she laughed. “Now that's something I can't wait to hear. William, is the zoo even open on Christmas Eve?”
“Nope, so you'd better think of something else that'll get 'em out of bed.”
“Me? I have to think of something?”
“Why not?”
“I don't know what they like to do. I'm new at this parenting thing, remember?”
“That's such a stupid excuse. What's the worst that could happen? If they don't like what you suggest, we'll just think up something else.”
“Oh, that's such a stupid excuse?” she repeated, giving him a sideways glance. “Right now the only thing that sounds even remotely fun is a family game of 'Kick the Spike.'“
“Spike…Spike?” he repeated with a laugh. “Good lord, pet, I haven't heard that blasted nickname in ages.”
“You know, I never understood why you'd call yourself something like that.”
“Ah, well,” he said, almost bashful as he chewed his lower lip, “I never did. It was just a name that I picked up at the academy. There’s no story behind it, or anything…”
“No story behind it?” she teased. “Why do I not believe you? Here, I’m your wife and you still won’t tell me why you were called Spike?”
“I told you once…”
“But you won’t tell me now?”
He looked away, and Buffy gave him a playful shove. “Fine. Be a pain in the ass, don’t tell me. Besides, I prefer William; it’s a good name. If I had to tell people that my babies were fathered by a guy named Spike…” She trailed off with a lighthearted shrug. “I’ve always liked the name William. It means valiant, or something like, um…unwavering protector?”
“How do you know that, Buffy?”
“What, I didn’t tell you?” She tried to keep smiling though her heart was pounding. “I…I just know, okay? I just know, and I remember it, because…it suits you, and… Eh,” she began, her brain working in overdrive, desperate for a reasonable explanation that she'd feel comfortable sharing. “It's not as weird as it may sound--.”
“Mommy! What are you whispering about? Are you talking about me? Are we going to the zoo?!”
They turned their heads in unison, finding Jamie standing on his bed.
“Hi, dad,” he grinned, taking one daring bounce on the mattress. “I looove you.”
“I love you too, you little devil. Get down from there. Now, Jamie.”
“So,” William continued, clearing his throat. His fingers circled lightly around Buffy's wrist, and he leaned forward to speak against her earlobe. “I'll keep my secret, and you'll keep yours?”
“That sounds fair…more than fair.”
“Alright, let's get back to business then.”
***
“When I said that we could cook dinner as a family, I assumed that we had actual food to cook.”
“We have food, pet.”
Buffy snorted. With Joy in her arms, she peered into the refrigerator. “Why do I have a feeling that a trip to the grocery store was forgotten yesterday along with the laundry? I'm no four-star chef, but what can we really do with only leftovers, and frozen TV dinners?”
“I wanna mix something!”
On matching stepstools, Jamie and Sarah stood side-by-side, eagerly waiting to help in the kitchen.
“You just hold your horses.” As Jamie rummaged through drawers that he could never reach before, William was there to take each potentially dangerous cooking utensil out of his little hands. “You want to play with something? Here,” he said, giving him a plastic spatula. “Sarah, do you want a whisk, or a…measuring spoon?”
“That one's pretty,” she answered, eyes sparkling as she pointed at the bright, cherry red whisk. She tapped it against the countertop and giggled when the rubber-covered wires bounced.
“I wanna make something with eggs!” Jamie announced.
“Why? Do you think you could crack an egg?”
He nodded, “It's easy to do, daddy.”
“Oh? How would you do it?”
“Like this!” Buffy turned just in time to see his sweet face twist in the angriest expression that he could muster. With a growl, he squeezed and smashed the imaginary egg in his fist.
“I don't know if I should laugh or be horrified,” Buffy said, walking towards William. “Can you take Joy, please? For someone who's so tiny, she can really weigh a ton after you hold her for more than fifteen minutes.”
“Sure, pet.”
“Ow—just—ow—make sure she lets go of my hair first.”
They reached for Joy's hand at the same time, and both jerked back awkwardly when their fingers made contact.
“Let me get it,” William chuckled softly. “I don't think she's used to your hair being down.”
“Do I usually put it up?”
“Yeah, and it's a pity,” he mumbled. Once her hair was free from its trap, William brushed his long fingers through it twice. “I'm pleased to see that you're more comfortable around our baby today.”
“Ah, well, she's not so bad. She doesn't cry a lot, and she—well, the twins too, they sleep a lot…more than I ever expected. I…I like the kids…a lot actually.”
“So, if they cried and didn't sleep, would you dislike them?”
“No—no, oh God, William, I'd still--.”
“Shhh, shhh. Sorry, pet, bad joke.”
“Oh,” Buffy said, forcing a grin. “Do you have any idea what we can make for dinner?”
“Mommy?” She turned and found Sarah tugging on her sleeve. “Mommy, can we have noodles?”
“Of course we can,” Buffy said automatically. Still shaken by William's joke, she gave Sarah a hug. She squeezed her tight and then looked to William sheepishly afterward. “Eh, please tell me that we have noodles.”
“We do.”
“Thank God.”
“We're having noodles? Yay! I looove noodles!”
“Jamie, love, you know what that means, right?”
“Noodle suit!”
“Noodle what?”
“Oh, you'll see. Go upstairs with him. The girls and I will get the cooking started.”
“But I thought the point of this was to cook together…”
“Go,” he urged with a wink. “I promise that you won't miss out on a thing.”
“But…noodle suit? What the hell is a noodle suit?”
***
They walked hand-in-hand through the house until they reached the stairs where Jamie wiggled his fingers free from Buffy’s grasp. Without saying a word, the usually hyper boy cautiously tackled each step with two feet as he clung to the railing with both hands.
“Are you okay, sweetie?”
“Yes.”
Regardless of his soft-spoken answer, Buffy held a hand to his back for extra support until he safely reached the second level. Once on solid ground, she laughed out loud, seeing that Jamie was back to his normal pace as he galloped to his room at high speed.
“Hey, you, wait for me!” she called, taking off after him in a light jog. When she reached the bedroom, he was already searching the lowest compartments of a chest of drawers. “Can you find it?”
“Found it!” Seconds later, and with a cheerful grin, Jamie gave Buffy the bunched up shirt. She shook it out and gathered from its color and size that the shirt had once belonged to his father.
“So, this is the infamous noodle suit… Did you paint this, sweetie? You’re quite the artist--.”
“We did it together, mom!”
“Oh.” Her fingers ran over the colorful puffy paint that covered the front and back. “We did a good job, didn’t we?
“Yes!” he sang, dancing with his arms in the air.
“Does that little dance mean that want me to help you put it on?” He nodded, and she slid the shirt over his head, letting it fall past his knees.
“Thanks, mommy!”
“Oh, you’re welcome.” She smoothed down his hair, and before he could run off, she touched his shoulder to keep him still. “How much do you weigh, Jamie?”
“I don’t know…a whole lot!”
“A whole lot? So, you don’t think I could carry you to the kitchen?”
“I don’t knooow.”
“Well, let’s find out,” she said, easily lifting him into her arms and planting a quick kiss on his cheek.
***
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Here's some fluff. Please review, it makes me very happy when you do. :)