Title: Heaven Can Wait

By: Shadows59

Summary: End of Finding Heaven. Some wholesome threesome bonding and Buffy reflection.

Category: B/X/Ay, T/S

Spoilers: More altered Season Six up to Seeing Red.

Disclaimer: Owned by Joss and Co.

Author's Note: Epilogue to the Finding Heaven Series, which includes Finding Heaven, So Complicated, Get This Party Started, Black and White, Picking up the Pieces, and Light at the End.

Now, On With the Show

Chapter 1

A month after Light at the End

Buffy Summers was not a morning person.

She'd been able to fake it for six years because Slayerness was pretty much the ultimate caffeine high, but she hated the very idea. She'd more than once wished that she had Mr. Burns' block out the sun machine just so the day wouldn't start until about noonish. .

Not that the extra time would do more than dent the year's worth of sleep she'd been gypped out of by the whole 'chosen one' routine. She'd lost count of how many sunrises she'd seen because she never made it to bed, leaving her with just enough time to wash the dust out of her hair before hurrying off to school or work.

And, on the few nights she did get to bed, there were the nightmares…

Not the prophetic ones - those were always too dada to be scary - but the surround sound flashbacks of finding her mommy's body on the couch, or seeing Xander and Anya lying in puddles of blood in the back yard, or her diving off the tower, and sometimes all three at once.

And then there were the dreams of her watching as the evil that filled her life corrupted everyone close to her – Hyena Xander, Anyanka, Black Magic Willow, Ripper, even Spike and Angelus – and knowing she was the only one who could stop them...

Almost worse were than all of those were the dreams of heaven…

Thankfully all three varieties had backed off some over the last year. She wished they would stop altogether, but knew they probably wouldn't. At least the breaks in between were getting longer. She'd gone almost two weeks, so far, without waking up crying and wanting to scream as her heart pounded in her chest. Two weeks when she could finally start catching up on that year of slumber she was owed.

There was one thing, though, that made mornings worthwhile. Getting to wake someone else up.

She'd been downright cruel to Dawn over the years, as is an older sister's right. Plastic snakes, water guns, diving onto the bed, she'd done it all. And when Dawn wouldn't wake up, she made a good make-up test subject – though Dawn liked that part far more than she should.

Not that Buffy was planning on doing any of that this morning. No, she had something special in mind, and the fact that she had an audience made it all the more fun. Even if her audience of one was miffed at being left out, but that's what he deserved for always choosing rock.

She crawled across the bed, moving slow because she would hate to wake up her target now. Besides, Anya looked so peaceful lying on her back in the middle of the bed, with one arm wrapped around her waist, the other stretched out across the bed, and her legs all wrapped up in the covers.

She even had her head bent back and her lips parted as she wheezed softly. She looked so cute Buffy had to fight down the urge to wake her sleeping beauty with a kiss.

Which, though very nice, wouldn't be anywhere near as satisfying.

Buffy did have some sense of fair play though. Enough to whisper Anya's name as she reach over and gave the other woman's shoulder a gentle shake, her fingers tracing the white lace trim of Anya's nightshirt and the softer skin that it covered. The only response was a scowl and an almost coherent, "Sleeping, G'away," before Anya rolled over on her side.

"Well, if that's the way you want it." Buffy grinned as she mimed cracking her knuckles. She thought she saw the ex-demon's eyes flutter at those words, but they didn't open. Still, she waited a long few moments to make sure Anya had drifted off again before she went to work.

Buffy leaned over gave Anya a peck high the temple, so high it was almost lost in the short brown hair – Anya's latest style was a lot like the one she had when she first became human. It was a nice change, considering she experimented with hair color and style the same way Dawn experimented with nail polish, and usually with the same results – and followed that up with another three quick pecks that circled Anya's eye before kissing down the cheek to the very edge of her lips.

There Buffy stopped.

And shifted over a few inches and ran the tip of her tongue down the curved edge of Anya's ear before settling on the earlobe, where she started nibbling. Whenever Xander did that to her she melted, and she knew Anya wouldn't last long.

She finished up with one last nip, this time with some force. Harder than she would have wanted done to her, but after nine months she knew where Xander's and Anya's lines and buttons were, the same way that they knew hers, and she'd just danced across all of Anya's. So she went for her expected kiss…

Only to shot down when Anya turned and buried her face in a pillow.

Buffy pulled her head back in surprise at what was a first. Xander looked up from Anya's face and smirked at Buffy as he straightened an imaginary tie. Then he held up his hands and raised two fingers and then three on one hand while he kept the other balled up.

Buffy got the message, best two out of three at rock-paper-scissors, but she wasn't about to give up this easy. Not when she could see Anya's lips twitching in a desperate attempt not to grin. She shook her head and Xander mimed a sigh as he settled back to watch her work.

Yeah, he was suffering.

Buffy pushed Xander out of her mind as she went to stage two, which was much more foreplay than Anya usually needed. So she had to go with what she liked and hope for the best. She kissed her way across the line of Anya's jaw and started down the long neck, tracing the jugular so she could feel every thump of Anya's rapid pulse against her lips. She drew out her pace as much for her sake as for Anya's, and was miffed when she reached shoulder.

Which was okay, because Anya was ready enough for the both of them. The ex-demon finally turned away from the pillow and offered Buffy her reward, which Buffy was only too happy to accept.

"That was much more pleasant than an alarm clock," Anya murmured when she finally pulled away from Buffy's lips.

Buffy didn't answer, being more than a little breathless herself as she snuggled up against Anya's back. She ran her tongue over her lips so she could taste the faint residue of strawberry lip-gloss, pausing only long enough to give Xander a smug grin.

A grin that he more than matched. She knew he'd thrown that game of rock-paper-scissors.

Not that she minded, or hadn't done the same more than once.

"We figured there had to be something you couldn't sleep through," Xander said as he reached over to brush a stray bang of hair off of Anya's face, "unlike said alarm."

That was news to Buffy. She'd slept through the alarm more than once herself, but never thought Anya would. Or could, for that matter. Not if there was even the remotest possibility that she might lose a sale.

Money was a harsh master.

"Ahn?" Buffy asked when she saw the same worry in Xander's eyes.

"I can't have a sleep-in day?" Anya asked. It would have been innocent if hadn't pressed herself further back into Buffy's embrace as she said it.

It was always easy to tell when Anya was trying to hide something, because, well, she couldn't. She wore every thought and emotion on her sleeve. It was a plus, considering the fact that she and Xander had raised repression to an art form.

It was kind of sad, though, that the thousand-year-old ex-demon was by far the worst liar in the relationship.

"Sure, Ahn, I've told you for years that's what weekends are for," Xander said. "So, on behalf of all of us in the shifty working class, welcome to the dark side."

Buffy wished she could crack a joke, too, because it seemed to make Anya feel a little better. But she couldn't think of one, guilt was bitchy like that. "This is all my fault. I should be taking care of Jessie when she gets fussy at night, not dumping it off on you two."

"She doesn't get fussy," Xander protested.

"Xand, she's a baby. She cries, eats, poops and looks cute and that's it." She also slept every now and then – like now, she'd finally dropped off a half-hour ago – but the rest took up most of Jessie's day. And everyone else's, too. Buffy had no clue as to how her mother managed; especially with her father gone most of the time, all she knew was that she'd be lost without Xander and Anya here. "Unless she's been trying to take over the world every night and you two don't want to worry me."

"If she is, she's playing it pretty close to the bib. But wouldn't it be something?"

"Besides, you needed time to recover from the whole… unpleasantness," Anya said.

It took all of Buffy's will not to roll her eyes at Anya's less than subtle code word for labor. Buffy didn't disagree – especially not after the very nice shot the doctor had given her had worn off – but it was wearing thin. "It wasn't that bad, Ahn."

"Really?"

"Really."

"It looked that way to me," Anya muttered. "Almost more painful than the man I'd cursed to have monkeys fly out his…" Her voice died off. Stories of her vengeance days still slipped out every now and then, but she never finished them. Instead she would fall into the same funk that Angel used to whenever he remembered.

Buffy pulled Anya closer as a reminder she was still there and wished she could do more even though she knew she couldn't. The things Anya had done couldn't be taken back, couldn't be apologized for, and couldn't be redeemed through the dark knight avenger route.

All Anya could do was deal, and all Buffy could do was be there for her.

"I know what this is about," Xander interrupted as he reached over to take Anya's hand. Anya relaxed a hair when he touched her. Making things better had always been his gift, one that Buffy always envied. "If you're that worried, you don't have to have a baby right now, Ahn. We can wait until you're ready."

Anya chuckled to hide her nerves as she squeezed his hand. "I wish I could, but it's a little late. Has been for about a month now."

"What?" Buffy asked as what Anya said sank in. "You mean you…" She asked as she reached down and placed her hand against Anya's stomach. It didn't feel any different, a little warmer, maybe, but that was it. There was no way.

"Yup," Anya said. She started to say more when Xander was there, kissing her so hard that they'd probably both be bruised tomorrow. Not that either seemed to mind.

Buffy didn't either, when Xander finally pulled away so he could kiss her just as hard. "We're going to be parents. Again," he said, his eyes wide at the idea. "This is all my fault."

"Well, duh," Anya said.

Buffy, however winced at the tone in his voice. "Aren't you…?"

"I should have warned you two that you were marrying someone damned manly."

Buffy shook her head and tried not to laugh. He looked smug enough already, any more and his head would probably explode. Instead she turned back to Anya. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

Anya shrugged and looked down. "I found out the day before Jessie was born and it didn't seem right then. And it's been so hectic after that…"

"We should have a shindig," Xander said. "Or a hootenanny. Get the whole gang together and start making up for lost Anya-pampering time."

"With presents?" Anya asked.

"Presents galore," Buffy promised.

"Good," Anya all but purred. "But there is one thing I'd like to do today…"

Buffy grinned. "Anything."

With that Anya started running her thumb up and down Buffy's. "You said you were feeling better…"

"Yeah." Better than she should, a hell of a lot better, unless those thousand monkeys she was always hearing about had written the pamphlets her doctor had given her. Maybe Giles was wrong and she still had some Slayerness in her, even if it was only mildly souped up healing. Only – hell, that would be better than any stupid watch.

Unless the watch was jewel encrusted, or had lots of nifty buttons and knobs.

She was a fidgeter, sue her.

"How much better?"

"Lots. Wh…" Buffy began before being cut off by Anya rolling over and storming the gates of Buffy's mouth with her tongue. Subtlety was never Anya's thing. Not that Buffy was complaining, not when Anya pulled away and started kissing down Buffy's neck, matching the path Buffy had laid out not five minutes ago kiss by kiss.

Only she stopped at the hollow of Buffy's shoulder.

Or, more precisely, the two white scars that still marred her skin there. They were tiny, nothing compared to some of the others she picked up over the years, but not small enough. It was the one part of her body Xander avoided, and even Anya was uncomfortable with, because of what the marks meant.

Things like soul mates, star crossed romances, and everything that had seemed so all important when she was sixteen, when she'd thought that love had to be epic and painful.

She felt two kisses, one over each scar, and wondered if she could get the blemishes removed.

Only to have all thought take a flying leap when she felt Anya's hands pulling at the hem of her night shirt – which was one of Xander's old Hawaiian shirts. It was just plain wrong that a shirt that somehow managed to clash with itself could be so comfy - as she suddenly knew what a deer felt when it saw headlights.

Because a part of her – the part that never quiet managed to leave Los Angelus – knew that looks were all mattered and was taking great delight in telling the rest of her that she didn't measure up anymore, that they'd take one look at her and laugh before they walked out. And, no matter how much the rest of her tried to scream it out, that one little part wouldn't shut up.

Anya must've sensed something, because she stopped nuzzling Buffy's neck. She leaned back; her head cocked to the side, and looked Buffy straight in the eyes. She wasn't usually good at reading emotions, but this time she must've seen something. Because Buffy saw the same worry mirror itself in her gray eyes before she looked away and stared down at her body.

Maybe it wasn't an LA thing after all.

Buffy tore her eyes off of Anya and looked over her shoulder at Xander, who was watching them both and sitting very still. She saw the same want in his eyes that she'd seen for the last six years, and the love that had been just as long though she'd been a little slower to notice, and one more thing. Fear. He was, had always been, terrified that he'd hurt her some how.

She knew that all she had to was say no and they would stop right now without anyone saying a word. It wouldn't solve anything, and they'd probably end up using all the cold water in California, but they could still stop.

Except Buffy didn't want to. She'd watched Xander and Anya together for the last two months – she didn't want them to hide just because her libido was off on a tour of Pluto – and she didn't want to be left out anymore.

Besides, she had two of the most desirable people on the planet waiting breathlessly for her next word and she'd have to be a saint for that not to be a turn on.

And after some of the things the three had done together, she knew she was no saint.

Still, she counted to ten before she said anything, giving what she thought was ample time for any demon that was waiting to come bursting in through the window.

When none did she brushed her fingertips across Anya's cheek and grinned as the girl's face lit up before reaching past to take Xander' hand.

"Xander?"

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, yeah."

And with that, she let Anya pull the shirt off over her head.

Three hours later.

"How's this spot look?" Buffy asked as she climbed up the small hill at the edge of the park, Jessie in her arms. Sunnydale was in the middle of a warm spell that was unseasonable even for California, something they'd decided to take advantage of with a picnic at the park. Too bad the rest of the city had the same idea.

Still, this was her favorite park – easily the least demon infested – and she wasn't about to be driven off. Besides, it was good spot, high enough to see what was going on around them and near enough to an old growth of willow trees that they had some shade. She could even make out a little pond through the branches and past a four-foot tall stonewall.

All of which seemed familiar…

"Fine to me," Xander said, breaking her line of thought, as he followed her up the hill. There was a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. Not that following her was making him sweat – not unless she was doing her special walk, the one with an extra little swish at the end. Though it worked better in a much shorter skirt and without a baby on her hip – no, that honor went to the two large and very stuffed wicker baskets he was carrying. "Because this pack mule's pooped."

"Baby," Anya said.

Xander stuck his tongue out at her, but Dawn was the one who spoke up. "Says the girl carrying the blanket. Are you sure you don't want help with that?" She asked with every bit of sarcasm she had, because she was the one hauling up the cooler with the drinks.

"No, I'm good." With that Anya dropped the red and green blanket, took one side and shook it open with a practiced ease. As soon as she was satisfied it had landed right she kicked off her sandals and settled down on it. "And starving, what'd we bring?"

"What didn't we bring?" Xander grumbled as he let the two baskets fall in the middle of the blanket. "I think they closed the supermarket after we left."

"Is the mighty Xander Harris really saying we brought too much food? Maybe we should find Giles, because if there's a better sign that things are about to go all hellmouthy…" Buffy said as she sat down across from Anya and set Jessie in her lap.

This was the first time that they'd take Jessie anywhere – the Magic Box and assorted Scooby residences didn't count – so she was all gussied up in a bright pink floral dress, which the baby completely ignored as she looked around her with wide eyed wonder.

"Eating's no problem, hauling is. Twinkies everywhere still have reason to fear me."

"Just you?" Dawn asked, more than a little annoyed.

"Me and my young grasshopper," Xander amended.

"Damn straight."

"Did we bring Twinkies?" Anya asked as she leaned over and started digging through the first basket.

Buffy shuddered, which made Jessie laugh so she did it again. "You can still eat them? Whenever I tried anything that wasn't salad in the first few months it came back up three minutes later."

Anya shrugged. "I haven't really been morning sick, except for a time or two. Mostly I'm just tired."

Buffy stared at the other girl. No, not stared, more like glared. "That is so not fair."

"Well…" Anya thought quick and offered a lame, "Maybe I'll be sick later."

"Better be," Buffy muttered as darkly as she could when she heard Jessie gurgle happily enough to ruin the mood. She looked down to see what had to be the brightest smile she'd ever seen and had no choice but to coo.

Dawn leaned over to see what was going on and smiled to as she said, "That settles it, my niece is going to be such a flirt."

Buffy barely listened, she was too busy tickling her baby's stomach. Or she was, until Jessie wrapped her five fingers around Buffy's one and pulled it up to her mouth. Besides, Dawn was so clearly right she didn't see the point in disagreeing.

Xander did though, even if it was with a rather weak, "She is not."

Anya stuck her head over the picnic basket and grinned in agreement. "Oh, yes. We might as well start watching for Darkana now."

"Who?"

"The Patron Saint of Scorned Men," Anya explained. "My opposite but no where near equal counterpart from the old days. Maybe Giles and Tara can ward the town… There they are!" Anya shouted with glee and pulled out a two pack of the golden snacks.

"Hey, those are MY Twinkies!" Dawn shouted.

Anya shrugged as she tore open the wrapper. "Pregnant woman here. I get first pick."

Buffy came quite close to snorting, because she'd tried pretty much the exact same thing with Dawn a few months ago – except with clothes and her being the oldest - and had been soundly shot down.

"Is that right," Dawn said, her hands on her hips, "Aud?"

Buffy glanced at Xander, but he looked as lost as she felt.

Anya, however, had gone white. "You little brat! You promised!"

"Aud?" Buffy and Xander asked together, still lost.

"It was a very good name when I was first human!" Anya shouted. "So don't even…" She didn't even bother to finish the sentence; she knew there was no point when Buffy and Xander started giggling. Instead she went back to glaring at Dawn. "You are so dead."

Dawn just stuck her tongue out as she started digging through the other basket. "Those are MY Twinkies, why didn't you steal Xander's?"

"Because I knew better than to bring any, mine are all safely hidden at work," Xander managed to force down the giggles long enough to explain before falling apart again. "Aud? Really? That explains so much…"

Anya glared. "Really, LaVelle? Like what?"

"Like…" Xander began before he wisely shut up.

"Buffy?"

"Stopping now."

Anya turned to Dawn and smirked evilly. "And as for you, little-miss-named-after-a-brand-of-dish-soap…"

Dawn scowled, and followed that with a sigh. "Fine, take the snacks. Which were mine. I just thought…" Anya took one of the Twinkies and held it out. Dawn stared for a moment before taking the peace offering. "Thank you… Aud."

Which sent Buffy and Xander off again. "You do know she's going to kill us all now," Xander said.

"Yeah, but…" Buffy forgot what she was going to say next, because something clicked in her head and she remembered why the place looked so familiar. It should, she'd cut through it often enough. Though it was usually much darker, maybe that's what threw her off. She turned her head almost achingly slow to check again.

The willow trees, the pond, the perfectly manicured lawn, it was all just like she remembered.

"Take Jessie." Buffy's body feeling hollow as she said it.

"Buff, what…?" The sudden change threw Xander, but he did what he was told and lifted his baby with such care that she wanted to smack him for ever even thinking he would be a bad father.

"I'll be right back." Was all the Buffy said as she stood on unsteady legs and started down the hill.

"Where's she…"

"I didn't mind that much…"

Dawn and Anya said almost together, but Buffy ignored them as she walked in a daze. She didn't even notice when she climbed across the wall, though she was sure it lacked most of her old grace. She didn't notice anything until she got to where she was going. It was a small spot under the willow trees and a stone's throw from the pond. Her fingers shook as she reached out to touch the name carved into the marble stone.

Buffy Anne Summers

1981-2001

Beloved Sister, Devoted Friend

She Saved the World

A Lot

She stood there and stared at her name, just as she had dozens of times before. She came here almost nightly when she was first brought back. Came, curled up next to the cold stone and cried. Because, more than anything else, she wanted to be back in the ground, back in heaven.

Back where she was safe, and warm and loved…

Things she'd been so sure she'd never feel again as long as she was here. Things she didn't want to feel here, because she never thought they'd be anything more than pale reflections…

Which was why she'd been drawn to Spike at first. Not because he knew what it was like to crawl his way out of his grave, but because he felt enough for both of them. Enough for her to keep feeling nothing…

She wanted to be just as dead as he was, because it would have been easier than dealing.

Dealing with living, dealing with hating the ones she loved for bringing her back.

She wondered if she would have ever dealt with any of it if Anya hadn't come after her in the Bronze, hadn't apologized, hadn't told her to.

No, she didn't wonder, she knew she wouldn't have. Just like she knew Spike was right, even if she'd never realized it until now.

The pain that she felt could only be healed by living.

And she'd certainly done that. Lived. She'd lived the life she'd always wanted, married people who loved her as much as she loved them, had a baby, hell, she might even go back to school. And she felt everything she never thought she would again while she was alive.

Which was why she'd stopped coming here, she'd all but forgotten until now.

"Giles told me a story about Joan of Arc," Buffy said her first words to the empty grave, her voice rough. "About how she didn't really die at the stake, how her friends rescued her, how she went home and lived out the rest of her life as a normal girl because she'd saved France, because she'd done her sacred duty and she'd earned a normal life."

She paused and felt oddly guilty because Buffy was here and the Slayer was gone. "I just wanted to say…. I've done my duty; I've earned my life. I'm… well, not sorry. So not sorry. But… I know heaven is waiting, but… it can wait a little more. I just wanted to say goodbye."

With that Buffy turned and walked away, back to the hill in the park.

She wouldn't be coming back.

The End