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Buffy awoke to gentle tugging on her hair. She opened her eyes to find herself staring straight into big blue eyes and a tiny mouth shiny with drool.

Margaret directed a fistful of Buffy's hair to her mouth.

She wrinkled her nose. “Don't think you wanna do that. Pretty sure I have dirt in there still.”

Margaret babbled her own response, putting a wet hand on Buffy's cheek.

She nodded sleepily. “Yeah, I could use another shower,” she yawned.

Spike's chuckle cut in from above her. “You comfortable in there, luv?”

Buffy jumped, her eyelids flying open. “Aside from dried up drool in my hair, a little, yeah,” she admitted, smiling shyly.

The vampire cleared his throat. “M'surprised you were, seein' as... uh...” He glanced at the crib and swallowed, noting how much smaller it was than...

“A little smaller than my coffin?” Buffy said bluntly. “Yeah. I know.”

He shifted, feeling awkward. “Did you, uh, want anythin' to munch on? Go anywhere?” His chest flooded with warmth when Margaret shuffled half on top of Buffy's chest and her first reaction was to put a gentle arm around her.

Buffy kept her eyes locked on the top of the baby's head. “Yes,” she said. “And no.”

“Dawn'll--”

Her head shot back up.

Spike gave her a sympathetic look. “Dawn usually visits everyday.”

Buffy took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

“Did you-- Could I--”

She nodded again. “It'd probably be a good idea to give her a heads up... So she won't have a heart attack or anything, you know?” She paused, fingering Margaret's downy hair. “Does she know?”

“No,” Spike replied, shaking his head.

Margaret opened and closed her fist. Buffy frowned down at her, trying to figure it out.

“Milk,” Spike said. “I taught her the sign for milk.”

She looked from Margaret to Spike in awe.

He gave her a gentle smile. “Would you like to?”

Buffy nodded silently. Spike disappeared, reappearing seconds later with a small bottle.

“She likes to sit up. She'll usually finish the entire bottle,” Spike said, handing it to her.

Buffy sat up, taking Margaret with her and nestling her in her lap to lean her against her stomach. Margaret reached out for the bottle, making Buffy chortle as she directed the nipple to her open mouth. The infant hummed happily, patting her bottle.

“Does she crawl?” Buffy murmured.

He shook his head. “Not really. She'll wiggle a bit to get around but gets tired and frustrated after a while. She's getting there.” He watched the pair, happiness swelling inside of him. He stepped back, wanting to give them some privacy. “M'gonna call Dawn, okay?”

Buffy glanced up at him and nodded. “Alright. If she needs to talk to me, just hand me the phone.”

“Mmmm mmmm mmmmmm,” Margaret hummed joyfully.

Buffy's stomach grumbled. “Ah, hunger. You know I almost forgot about it?”

“Mmmmmm!” Margaret replied.

She nodded. “Yeah. Hard to believe.” She peered down at her as she suckled at the bottle. “Hard to believe you're mine also...” she said softly. “You probably kept your dad up a lot the past couple of months, huh? Guess I'll just have to make up for it. Strange to think that washing all that gross, stinky demon slime off me the past couple of years has probably prepared me for whatever disaster waits for me in that diaper...”

“Sometimes they can be worse,” Spike chuckled in the doorway.

Buffy looked up, blushing.

“The diapers, I mean.” Spike averted his gaze, looking shy. “An' you don' have to make up for anything, luv. I love that girl. Every second was bleedin' worth it. Clem's been very good at lookin' after her, too. You'll find that he is a very reliable babysitter. Your Watcher is becoming a close second.”

There was a peaceful look on the Slayer's face. “Giles? Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Breakfast is waitin' for you on the table whenever you're ready.”

“Did you reach Dawn?”

He shook his head. “Nah. S'ten in the morning. She's still in school.”

“I thought it was later,” Buffy commented, looking at the window behind her.

“Clem was nice enough to help me tint the windows,” the vampire replied. “S'just the stuff they use on cars. Pretty effective.”

She nodded. She glanced down to see Margaret suckling the last of the milk.

“She'll need a burpin'.” Spike opened up a drawer and handed her a cloth. “She might spit up some. She devours the milk so fast that sometimes her tiny tummy gets upset. S'normal, though.”

Buffy nodded, holding Margaret up with the cloth under her chin to gently pat her back. After burping, she lifted her into her arms and made her way into the small dining room that was connected to the living room. Waiting for her on the table was a bowl of oatmeal, a still steaming cup of coffee, and a peeled orange.

Spike shrugged. “Sorry. Don' have much human food here aside from formula.”

“Thanks,” Buffy murmured, sitting down.

Spike nodded.

“No. I mean... For everything. Thank you, Spike,” she said softly, her eyes trained on Margaret's head.

Spike shifted, shoving his hands in his pockets. He removed them and stepped closer to take Margaret so Buffy could eat. Margaret giggled upon seeing her father, patting his face and talking. “It was all happenstance, pet. Someone... Someone was digging up your grave and I was pissed.”

“Who was it?” Buffy asked, blowing on her coffee.

“Dunno. Didn' think to ask at the time. He was gone by the time I'd opened the lid. Had a bit of an accent. Maybe an Irishman.”

Buffy quickly finished her breakfast before turning around and holding out her arms. “Gimme.”

Spike laughed and handed over Margaret.

~~

“Goddess, I feel like a total failure,” Willow wept.

“Honey, it's not your fault,” Tara stressed. “Those biker demons were about to run us over.”

“I should've put a protection spell over our circle,” the redhead muttered, slumping against the headboard. “It's been hours. I'm sure if things had gone alright Buffy would be...” Her eyes widened. “Oh god. We have to go to the cemetery. We left her in there! Tara, we have to check!”

“Let's go. I'll get the car keys,” Tara said, already making her way downstairs.

Tara was sure that that was the fastest and most reckless she'd ever driven. They stopped just past the cemetery gates and ran for where Buffy was buried. Tears streaked down Willow's face as they found the ground disturbed. It looked as though someone had put the earth back on it.

“This doesn't make any sense,” Willow whispered.

“Maybe we can do a locating spell?” Tara asked.

“We'd need something from her, though. Maybe we could find a strand of her hair on her clothes in the closet. I'm gonna call Xander.”

Tara nodded, unlocking the car. The pair got back into the cabin, a cell phone already attached to Willow's ear.

When they got to the house, Tara went upstairs to Buffy's old room while Willow was on the phone. Her jaw dropped when she opened up the closet door. “Willow!” she called out. “There's something weird going on.”

Willow ran up the steps, following Tara's voice. Both of them stared into Buffy's closet, which was newly empty aside from her weapons chest on the floor. Tara ran downstairs to the hall closet and awoke the Buffybot.

“Hi, Tara!” the bot greeted with her plastic smile.

The blonde shifted uneasily, still uncomfortable communicating with the creepy robot. “Um, have you been in the real Buffy's closet lately? All the clothes seem to be gone...”

The Buffybot frowned. “No. I'm not programmed to change out of these clothes.” She smiled brightly. “It's Spike's job to undress me!”

Tara blushed. “Uh, thanks. Y-You can go back to sleep now. That's all I needed to ask.”

The bot smiled. “Goodnight, Tara.” She closed her eyes.

Tara turned around, jumping when she found Willow behind her. “Looks like the Buffybot has nothing to do with this.”

Willow nodded. “I just called Xan. We're gonna meet up at the Magic Box and see what else we can do. Something strange is going on and it's giving me the heebie jeebies. I just hope Buffy is doing alright if she...” She clammed up when Dawn came through the front door.

“What's all the racket?” Dawn asked. “Sounded like a stampede in here.”

“Sorry, Dawnie,” Willow said, her voice trembling. “I misplaced something and I've been going crazy looking for it.”

The teenager merely nodded. “Okay. We were let out early because of a water main break or something. I'm gonna take a shower and then visit Spike. I'll be back before sundown, though.” She went to go upstairs.

“Y-You're going to see Margaret?” Willow asked, frowning.

She turned around. “Yeah,” Dawn said slowly. “I'll watch her while Spike sleeps.”

Willow was having a silent internal freakout. She hoped nothing had happened to the baby since she'd used her blood for the ritual. “Okay. Um, we'll be at the Magic Box. Not sure how long we'll be there for.”

“Is there a sitch?” Dawn asked, looking worried.

“Nah,” Willow said with a wave of her hand. “It's easier to study over there when the bed upstairs isn't tempting me to nap.”

The teenager nodded. “Alright. See you guys later.”

Tara was frowning at Willow. “Are you really bothered by Dawn seeing Margaret?”

The redhead played with the ends of her sleeves. “I'm still... I'm still getting used to the fact that she exists. But also I was thinking that she's the closest, genetically, to Buffy, and I just had a thought that we could use a strand of her hair or something... Probably wouldn't work, though.”

Her lover nodded, still looking at her strangely. “Yeah, I don't think that'd work either.”

~~

Dawn was combing her hair when she found she'd missed a call from Spike. She called back, disappearing into Buffy's room where she'd heard Willow and Tara making so much noise. “Hey, Spike,” she greeted when she heard the other line pick up. She stared at the open closet. “Whoa.”

“Mornin', Bit.” He paused. “Is somethin' wrong?”

“No, but definitely weird.” Dawn was still trying to figure out why Buffy's closet was empty, and it looked like her resident witches were trying to figure out the same. But why were they looking in there in the first place? “All of Buffy's clothes are gone.”

There was silence on the other end.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, Bit. I'm still here. Are you coming over?”

“You're not wigged about this?” Dawn asked.

“Well...” Spike cleared his throat. “I've got... There's someone at the apartment who wants to see you.”

“Spike?” the teenager asked. “What's with the cryptic?”

“Dawn, it's Buffy,” he said, cutting straight to the chase. “They resurrected her, Bit. I don' know anything about her clothes disappearing, though.”

“WHAT?” Dawn shrieked.

“Shh!” Spike hissed. “I don' think they know it was successful. For your sister's sake, please don' tell them.”

“Oh god,” Dawn whispered, her heart leaping into her throat. “Is she okay? Is she...” She sat down on the carpet. “Did she meet Margaret?”

“She did.” Spike sounded elated.

“Really?” Dawn whispered, excitement filling her.

“Yeah,” Spike said. She could hear him smiling. “She's grown pretty fond of 'er in the past fourteen hours.”

“I'm coming over!” Dawn squealed.

“We're waiting for you,” Spike said happily.





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