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“Whatcha thinkin’ about, love?” a sleepy voice mumbled from the bed. Buffy looked down at the peaceful baby in her arms.

“Go back to sleep,” she whispered to Will. They had a big day tomorrow, some sort of who’s-who party that was all about the elite making connections with more of the elite. It just wouldn’t do for them to be tired.

“Can’t. Come back,” Spike mumbled a bit incoherently. Buffy shook her head at her twins; for two powerful publishing execs, they acted like twelve-years-old on a regular basis. She nestled Cainna back in her crib, covering her with a blanket before climbing in between her lovers. Will pressed a kiss to her back while Spike wrapped a possessive arm around her waist, throwing one leg over her hip. She sighed contentedly in their embrace.

“What’s wrong pet?” Will’s voice was a little more lucid.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Buffy denied. Which was true; she had a few things on her mind, but there wasn’t anything really wrong.

“Somethin’s got your knickers in a twist,” Spike said. His hand trailed down to make sure said knickers weren’t twisted or even existent. Buffy rolled her eyes and changed that twelve to a very horny sixteen.

“What…what would happen if I were pregnant?” Will and Spike were definitely not asleep anymore. Two pairs of cobalt eyes were immediately hovering over her.

“You’re…are you…”

“No! Oh, no, I’m not…you know. Yet?” She couldn't read their expressions in the low light. Were they happy or scared? Excited by the prospect or possibility, but not right now…but definitely in the future? Or were kids just totally out of the question? There were so many things they hadn’t talked about, including where their relationship was going, how they were going to deal with…everything. She’d just happily assumed they were going to live happily ever after, and that was enough. Only life had shown her, without a doubt, that it was not. “I-I-I mean, do you even want children? And how would we do that? We wouldn’t know who was the father. Though we could sort of try to take turn, with you know, one at first and then the other…but that would mean we’d need at least two kids, and I don’t even know if you really WANT kids and two would be a lot, and don’t twins run in families? We could mmumph!” Will silenced her with a hard kiss. When Buffy came to, she realized that Spike was laughing. At her. How dare he laugh at her! She opened her mouth to launch into a tirade about not laughing at her when she was making an extremely valid point when he kissed her.

“Luv,” Will started when Spike released her, “we want children. We technically have three at the moment.”

“And we want them with you, kitten,” Spike continued, placing a soft kiss on her collar bone.

“And our children will be loved. By all of us,” Will whispered in her ear. “Doesn’t matter who supplied the material. They’re ours. Would love an adopted kid just as much as one that came from your womb.”

“Took us a long time to find you, pet. Not letting you go for anything.”

“I love you,” Buffy sighed out.

“Love you too, Goldilocks.”

“Love you so much, you’re worth everything. We’ll fight to keep you Buffy, to make you happy. I’ll fight for both of you,” Spike swore vehemently. Tears in her eyes, Buffy pulled her loves to her. She was never letting them go either.

***

“How do I look?” Buffy spun around, enjoying the way her dress flared around her. Her dress flowed off her hips, the soft material clinging in all the right placed. The top came together in a halter-top style, though the ties were a couple of yards long. They crossed on Buffy’s back, wrapping around her waist and tying in the back.

“You look like Aphrodite,” Andrew gasped, some of his cereal escaping out of his open mouth.

“Yep. I officially dub that your Goddess dress!” Buffy slipped into a pair of classy high heels that showed off her shapely legs. She looked at her self in the mirror.

“Rating?” she asked her assembled judges.

“11,” Andrew announced. Down rolled her eyes and smacked him.

“I’ll give you an 8.5, simply because a 9 is reserved for lacy lingerie and 10 for when you’re naked,” she said with an impish smile.

“Fair enough.” A pounding on the door interrupted them.

“Cor, Cainna’s graduated from college already! What’s taking so long?”

“Il faut souffrir pour sa beauté!” Dawn hollered through the door.

“Il faut se dépêcher si nous voulons arriver à l'heure!” Spike yelled back. Dawn just rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Buffy, only to groan at the glazed-over look in her adopted-sister’s eye. Spike and Will were really going to have to teach her some French so that not EVERYHTING they said in the language gave Buffy that sex-addled look.

“Right, you look fine, your hair’s perfect, time to wow them with your looks and make one hell of a splash at that party. K?” Dawn none too gently pushed Buffy, who was still lost in her world of French seduction, to the foyer.

“Sodden women, be much simpler if they all just ran around naked,” Spike was grousing, fiddling with his cuffs and collar.

“But then you’d miss this,” Dawn announced. Two bleached heads spun around, devouring the sight before them. She was bloody gorgeous. Dawn stared in disgust at the three barely functioning ‘adults’ in the room. Witless was the only word that really sprung to mind.

“They’re having a slow-down moment!” Andrew said from behind her. “There should be romantic music playing, and a soft breeze flowing, and a halo of golden light surrounding her. Perfect.” Dawn just shook her head; sometimes, she felt like the only sane person in this entire family.

“Don’t you have a party to attend?” Dawn asked loudly. The moment was effectively shattered as they all woke with a start.

“Right, off we are, night kiddies, don’t stay up too late, call if you need anything.” Dawn and Andrew just nodded, Dawn doing her best imitation of a mother hen, shooing her chicks away from the nest. She watched as they made it to the car, shaking her head. What would they do without her?

“You look beautiful,” Spike said, running his fingers through her hair. He was sitting in the back, Will driving, Buffy in the passenger seat. She reached back and took his hand, enjoying just being together. They made the rest of the drive in relative silence, soft music playing in the background.

The venue was lit and music could be heard from the street. Will handed the keys to the valet while Spike gallantly opened Buffy’s door, helping her out. Arm in arm, the trio made their way into the party.

Buffy was amazed at the glitz and glamour of the party.

“How can they afford this?” she asked in shock. The decorations, the party favors they were given at the door, the bottles of Dom Perignon…it was all extravagant and expensive.

“People have more money than they know what to do with,” Spike said. He guided her towards the main room, where beautiful people in beautiful gowns were mingling. She felt distinctly out of place; this was a world she wasn’t familiar with or overly comfortable with.

“Veeliham, Jhamez!” Buffy tried not to stare at the orange woman with extremely large lips and small dog with a giant diamond on the collar. She pouted at her Twinlets, which was quite a feat considering her lips were already drooping under the weight of the collagen in them. “Vhere ‘ave ewe bheen? Me life iz quite shaad wiv oot ewe!” The woman was actually just talking to Spike, latching on to his arm and staring up at him with what she obviously thought were seductive, coquettish eyes. Buffy giggled at his increasingly desperate looks while Collagen Woman dragged him into the throng.

“Her accent’s fake,” Will whispered conspiratorially. Buffy burst out laughing, a real sound that was somehow out of place in a room that was rife with superficiality. Will continued to point out different people, ranging from celebrities to the super rich. Luckily, Will and Spike seemed to know the good ones, the people who didn’t have sychophantia oozing out of their pores. She stammered through meeting Rachel McAddams, who was incredibly nice and stunningly beautiful in person, and apparently on really good “I’ll call you occasionally” terms with Spike. Funny he’d never mentioned that. Will introduced her to what seemed like the entire upper echelon of the L.A. world. It was exhausting.

Buffy disengaged herself from Will to get a drink from the bar. Spike still had resurfaced from wherever the Bride of Frankenstein had dragged him. Buffy sipped her vodka cranberry with relish. It was rough when you didn’t know anyone at a party…especially one as big as this. They’d spent the night dodging the relationship bullets, Buffy simply being introduced as their ‘roommate,’ though very few people accepted that at face value. The vibes coming off the two blondes was unmistakable.

“Elizabeth?” someone called. Buffy turned, searching for the somewhat-familiar voice. “It is you! Wow, Elizabeth, you look great!” Buffy froze as she was engulfed in a giant bear hug by someone.

“Um…My name’s Buffy?” she offered. The woman pulled away, her dark eyes dancing.

“Why am I not surprised? Buffy suites you.” Buffy gasped. It was that wide grin that did it, the mischievous sparkle in her eye.

“Alexandra?!” Buffy launched herself at the brunette, squeezing the life out of her friend. “I’m so happy to see you! I’ve been wondering what happened to you, you know after? And I’m so glad you’re OK. You look GREAT!” She really did. She’s gained some weight, and she looked stunning in a blue cocktail dress that sparkled in the lowlight. She fit in flawlessly with the glitz and glamour of this place.

“You’re looking good yourself,” she said appreciatively. Buffy blushed prettily; despite Dawn’s 8.5 rating, she felt kind of frumpy next to all of these other people. “Oh, don’t let the starlets get to you. It’s a fake beauty; you learn that after being in this life for a couple of minutes. You’re way hotter, and much more real.”

“We should go somewhere and catch up,” Buffy suggested. Alexandra led her to a quite, secluded area Buffy hadn’t noticed at first. They sat and chatted, discussing everything from what had happened at the “nutso-bananas place” as Alex called it, to what they were doing now.

“So wait, you’re an actual producer? As in, you make movies?”

“Yep! I love it…most of the time.”

“That’s so cool! What do you actually do, though? I mean, what’s your job description?”

“Well, depends on the movie, really. That’s one of the things I like, I basically get to change jobs every year or two. But it can range from getting an actual script written, to casting and finding a director, to budgeting everything. I am the behind the scene puppet master.” Buffy laughed.

“Buffy! There you are! We thought we’d lost you!” A rather harried looking Spike collapsed into a chair, sighing wearily. He started when he saw Buffy’s friend, someone he hadn’t yet met. “Sorry, didn’t realize you were, uh, busy.”

“Spike, this is Alexandra. Alex, this is Spike.”

“Wait…Alexandra? THE Alexandra?” The woman laughed.

“I’m a THE?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows a Spike.

“I’ve just heard a lot about you,” he said, blushing. Buffy hid a giggle behind her hand. If anyone could get her twinlets to blush, she was pretty sure Alex could. In fact…this could be a very, very interesting friendship. Her Twinlets needed to be brought down a notch or two every once in a while, and Alex could do it, no doubt.

“Yes, well, I am indeed THE Alexandra. Didn’t I see you on the arm of Vickie Delanno?” Spike paled at the name.

“Yes, well, it’s a traumatic moment I’m trying to forget,” he said, taking a large gulp of his scotch.

“Aren’t we all?” Alex said in mock-sympathy.

“What are you doing back here, hiding from the big bad—hello.” Will was surprised to see his lovers sitting at a table with a woman he’d never seen or met before.

“This is Alexandra,” Spike said, his words holding a great deal of weight.

“Alexandra? Really?” Will looked the woman over more carefully. She was beautiful, and he could feel her attitude from here—just like Buffy had described her.

“Really,” she said, looking him up and down. He pulled a chair out and sprawled in it, relaxed, one eyebrow cocked sardonically. Silence descended on the table as everyone sized each other up, Buffy waiting with bated breath for the verdict. Suddenly, Alex started laughing.

“What?” Will asked, affronted.

“Jesus, Buff! If I’d found out you were keeping BOTH of them to yourself and not sharing…I’d lock you up out of jealousy too!” Buffy started laughing too; trust Alexandra to call them on their relationship and accept it all in the same breath.

“I think I like this one, pet,” Will said with a smirk, entwining his hand with Buffy’s.

“Yeah, bird’s a bit of alright,” Spike agreed, taking Buffy’s other hand.

“Mind if I make you guys into a movie?” Alex asked brightly.

***

They stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, talking and drinking and trading stories. Alex had them rolling on the ground with stories about her childhood as a ‘godless, liberal queer’ in South Carolina. Alexandra walked away with an open invitation to visit them whenever she wanted around 3 in the morning. By the time they god home, Buffy was tired—but it was a happy-tired.

“I’m exhausted,” Buffy murmured against Spike’s shoulder. He swept his arms underneath her legs, carrying her up the stairs.

“Let me carry my Princess to bed,” he said gallantly. Will led the way, opening doors and clearing the way. They helped her undress, getting her into her adorable yummy sushi pajamas.

“Bed time now,” she murmured sleepily.

“You go to sleep kitten. We’ve got somethin’ to take care of real quick like. OK?” Buffy muttered something incomprehensible, rolling on to her side and deep into sleep.

“She’s down,” Spike reported, grabbing his jacket of the couch. Will nodded, most of his attention on the phone.

“You’re amzin’, luv. Really.”

“What can I say? I like the morning light,” Sam’s voice floated from the speaker phone.

“Yeah, and the night lights, too,” Spike called out. Sam laughed.

“Yes, well, I can sleep when I’m dead.”

“We don’t have long, but—“

“Say no more, amando,” Sam interrupted. “You know I’m always available for my two favorite twins. I’ll be waiting.”

“Not for long,” Will promised, following Spike out the door.





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