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Author's Chapter Notes:
They really are going home soon, I think...
It took Buffy several minutes to gather her wits following Spike’s miraculously relaxing massage. After one false start, she managed to shove her arms into the sleeves of the kimono he handed her as he left. Tying the sash around her waist, Buffy planted her feet on the carpet and tried to push herself up from the mat. Her muscles were slow to respond and her head felt woozy, but she finally wobbled to standing and reached for the doorknob to stabilize herself. The dimly lit room seemed to swim for a moment and then everything settled down. “Hmmm, looks like the effects of Mr. Magic Fingers are short-term,” she thought, leaning against the jamb as she opened the door. “That’s too bad.”

As she stumbled into the hall, Buffy had to appreciate Spike’s wisdom in keeping Joy from barreling down the hall and into the arms of her massage-impaired mother. Returning from such a deep state of relaxation was taking awhile and it was not at all unpleasant. But colliding with thirty-two pounds of 4 year-old would have cut Buffy’s leisurely re-entry short. And that would have been a real shame.

Marshalling all her concentration, Buffy ventured to propel herself toward the kitchen. She could hear Spike and Joy’s voices, but the fog hadn’t lifted enough to understand them. Deliberately placing one foot in front of the other, Buffy made her way toward the happy sounds of her daughter’s laughter and Spike’s rumbling but unintelligible responses.

Turning the corner into the kitchen, Buffy had to close her eyes. “Ow!” she said. “Do the lights really need to be this bright? You two aren’t doing any brain surgery are you?”

Spike was standing at the counter holding a plate and Joy was seated at the table with a glass of milk in front of her. Both turned to face Buffy and burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny,” Buffy asked, completely bewildered at their response.

“It’s your hair, Mommy,” Joy giggled, “It’s really messy. You look like you combed your hair with an egg beater!”

“Oh I do, do I?” Buffy said as she reached out to scoop Joy out of her chair. “I bet you don’t even know what an egg beater is, Miss Smarty Pants!”

Joy squealed with delight as Buffy lifted her in the air and then dipped her down just long enough to plant a quick kiss on her nose. “No, but that’s what you always say to me when my hair is all messy,” she said. “You should have let Papa give you French braids like me.”

“Well maybe I’ll ask him to fix my hair after we all have something to eat,” Buffy replied as she helped Joy back into her chair. “What’s cooking?”

“I think the correct verb is ‘toasting’,” Spike replied, stepping close enough to gently smooth Buffy’s hair with his hands. “The movie inspired Joy to develop an entire menu of items cooked in a toaster.”

“Yeah, Mommy, what do you want?” Joy added with contagious enthusiasm. “We have toasted waffles, cinnamon toast, or toast with peanut butter and bananas, and pop tarts for dessert.”

“What about our vegetables?” Buffy asked, trying hard to look serious.

Joy turned to Spike, putting her hands on her hips. “See, I told you Mommy would want vegetables,” she said, a note of vindication in her voice.

“Yes, Widget, but I’m not putting carrots or celery in the toaster. They can go on the table, as is, or not at all,” Spike said, his voice firm. “What do you say?”

Joy’s look of defeat was fleeting as she agreed to serve the vegetables without toasting them first. “I still think they would be good hot,” she mumbled as Spike handed her a glass each of neatly cut lengths of carrot and celery so she could place them on the table.

The toaster popped and Spike quickly transferred two waffles onto the plate he was holding. Placing them on the table in front of Joy, he reached into the microwave to retrieve a small pitcher of syrup, already warmed.

Buffy slid into her chair. “I think I’ll have the toast with peanut butter and bananas,” she said. “That sounds like the most nutritious choice, and I’m starving.”

Spike pulled two slices of whole wheat bread out of a bag and dropped them in the toaster. “Coming right up,” he said, “Will that be open-face or closed?”

“Open, please,” Buffy replied, “That way I get more banana.”

Just then the kitchen door swung open and Willow walked in followed closely by Giselle. “What’s this about wanting more banana?” Willow asked, winking at Giselle. “It’s like we were just saying, Giselle, you two are still like newlyweds.”

“Very funny, Will,” Buffy said, not amused but glad Joy was too busy with her waffles to notice the lame joke. “What have you two been doing?”

“We set out to do some research on the intra-dimensional travel problem,” Willow began, “but Dawn had some costume emergencies at the dress rehearsal and we ended up helping her instead.”

Buffy perked up at the mention of Dawn. “Dawn needed help?” she asked. “What didn’t she ask me?”

Giselle put her hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “Not wanting you to be disturbed, Mrs. Buffy,” she said in her slightly fractured English. “Little sister say you need to break. Willow and we could help enough.”

Buffy nodded absently. “Oh, okay, I guess. It was nice to have some down time,” she said, dreamily remembering Spike’s amazing hands for a moment before she shook herself back to the moment. “So the emergencies are all fixed now?”

“Mostly,” Willow said, pouring herself some juice and joining Buffy and Joy at the table. “But Dawn still had a bunch of stuff to do so she won’t be back until after tonight’s performance. We got her some dinner before we left. She said we should all just show up by 7:00 and our tickets will be at ‘will call.’”

Spike put Buffy’s peanut butter and banana sandwich in front of her. “Sounds like a plan, then,” he said. “We’ll all go to the show. And when we get back here, Buffy and the Widget and I plan to head back home.”

Willow gave Giselle a meaningful look and when the purple-skinned demon nodded her approval, she spoke. “Do you have a place to stop over? Giselle can host you at her home dimension if you don’t.”

“Yes Mr. Spike,” Giselle added, “we will meet you my brothers and sisters.”

Spike glanced at Buffy before accepting the invitation. “We’d be honored to visit your family, Giselle,” he said. “Isn’t that right, Widget?”

Joy jumped up and ran to Giselle, wrapping her arms around the demon nanny’s long legs. “Yes, Gigi I want to meet your sisters and brothers.”

“That’s settled, then,” Spike said. “So, toast anyone?”

***

Spike and Buffy sat on either side of Joy in the third row of the packed auditorium. Willow and Giselle occupied the seats on Buffy’s right. The room darkened, the crowd hushed, and a spotlight followed as Dawn made her way along the edge of the stage until she was standing in the middle, a thick velvet curtain behind her. Dawn smiled as she looked out into the audience. “Welcome to the fall performance of Summers Dance Arts,” she began.

Although Buffy had seen Dawn up on stage introducing many recitals over the years, she always felt the same surge of pride that her “little sister” was responsible for such a big enterprise. Inevitably, tears formed in her eyes as she thought how proud her mother would be to see Dawn standing there, so beautiful and accomplished. Wiping her tears before they could fall, Buffy looked at Joy. Ever since she’d been born, Buffy found it easier to think about her mother. There was still sadness, but it was buffered by the presence of her mother’s namesake. Buffy decided it was because being a good mother to Joy was the best tribute to the memory of Joyce she could imagine.

The next thing Buffy knew, the music began and the curtain slid back to reveal a stage full of colorfully costumed dancers. The first number was an ensemble piece with dozens of dancers ranging from tiny preschoolers to young adults. Although Spike had brought a pillow to make sure Joy could see, she was too excited to sit on it. At first, she stood motionless in front of her seat, transfixed by the whirling and leaping on stage. But, after a few minutes, Joy pushed past Buffy’s knees and climbed into Willow’s lap. Cupping her hand around the witch’s ear, Joy leaned in close to whisper, and then looked at Willow expectantly. Willow shook her head, adamantly denying whatever it was Joy had asked. Joy looked surprised, but she gave Willow a quick kiss on the check and returned to her post, pushing past Buffy again to stand in front of her seat, eyes glued to the action on stage.

Buffy, unable to contain her curiosity, leaned over to ask Willow what Joy had whispered. “She wanted to know if they were using magic,” Willow said. “She thought the dancers must be under a spell to dance like that.”

Buffy smiled and reached across Joy’s vacant seat to take Spike’s hand. Turning to look at her, he responded to Buffy’s happy expression by quirking a smile in her direction, then he squeezed her hand before returning his gaze to the dancers.

“We are a strange but truly wonderful family,” Buffy thought. Then she, too, allowed herself to be caught up in the music and motion of the performance.

An hour later, after the final set of dancers took their bows to enthusiastic applause, Dawn returned to the stage just long enough to thank everyone for attending and encourage them to support the school’s scholarship program. As the lights came up the audience members stood, gathering their jackets and programs as they prepared to leave. Joy looked up at her parents, alarm etched in her expression.

“Is that all?” she asked, clearly distressed by the possibility the performance was over.

Buffy and Spike, both perplexed, nodded simultaneously. “Yeah, Widget,” Spike said, “the show is all done, but we get to go back stage to see Dawn and meet her friend now.”

Tears tumbled down Joy’s cheeks and her lower lip trembled for a moment before she clamped her mouth into a frown.

“What’s up Widg’?” Spike asked, kneeling to bring himself level with her rapidly crumpling face. “It was good, I know. Shame it had to end so soon, but why the waterworks?”

Joy let out a sob and threw herself into Spike’s arms. Over her head, he looked at Buffy in a state of total confusion. Joy buried her head in his shoulder and took a couple of gasping breaths before pulling back. “I d-d-didn’t get a t-t-turn!” she stammered. “I d-d-didn’t get to d-d-dance!”


Tbc…

A/N: Please leave me a review. I always feel more inspired to write when readers let me know they are enjoying the story. I even like to get constructive criticism. Really!





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