Hey everyone! Glad to see my story getting some love! This ch is heavy on the cute factor so hold on to your hats and watch you don't break your 'n'awww' bones!


'Scarlatti, big plans since we're actually done on time tonight?'

Spike stroked on Speed-Stick, glanced over to see Sam standing beside him looking slightly bedraggled. He hadn't recalled Ed looking so stressed out when Sophie had been pregnant but then again, Issy was the second child and Ed had had bigger problems to worry about, like the very real possibility that Sophie wasn't coming back to him after the birth. Sam was just anxious, and as Spike's little lady was just starting her shift when they'd returned from patrol, he knew he was wide open to take care of his buddy.

'Not a one, Sam-Tastic, unless you count doing my laundry like a big boy and hitting up Zehrs to shop for the barbecue tomorrow a big deal.'

'Can I come with you?'

Sam asked it with such unmistakeable eagerness that Spike felt a stir of pity for the guy. He braced his hand on his locker door, leaned against it so it swung open. 'Jules giving you problems?'

'Not exactly, I just...' Sam sighed, sat down on the bench. He braced his elbows on his thighs, tilted his head so his thumbs pressed against his closed eyelids. 'I love my wife but I need a night off.'

'Of course you do. Between your job and taking care of Jules, there hasn't been a lot of time for you. So.' Spike moved over, clapped Sam's shoulder.

'How can I just tell Jules, sorry babe you're on your own tonight? Doesn't that make me a bad husband?'

'I doubt it.'

'How would you know? You don't even have the balls to tell Winnie you love her,' Sam snapped; though it was a neatly aimed arrow that punctured Spike's pride, he simply tugged on his t-shirt and shrugged.

'I know how I feel about her. I know how she feels about me. That's enough for right now. And tonight is escape from the women night for us, so just try to give your brain a break, alright? I'll pick you up around six.'

'Alright.'

As Sam sounded about as excited to hear he was being forcibly given a man-waxing, Spike closed his locker and put his hands on his friends shoulder. 'Dude, relax. You are being an awesome man for Jules, and you both know that. Stop being such a sissy. You're allowed to have some time for yourself.'

Spike stuffed his arms into his hoodie sleeves, tugged up on the zipper. 'Better yet, if you feel that guilty, why not get a few things for your baby-mama that she would like as a surprise?'

'Ice cream. She cannot get enough, oh and crunchy things.'

'Crunchy things?'

'Carrots, celery, tortilla chips, pretzels whatever. Oh and fish and chips. Not the greasy fried kind, like, Highliner fish and McCain fries baked in the oven so she doesn't have all that extra salt you get when-'

'I get it, buddy,' Spike laughed, then took out his phone to text Winnie - leaving the locker room now, and thinking about getting you naked tomorrow night after all our guests leave. xx. He'd be able to tell when he left the locker room and saw her sitting at the dispatcher's desk if she'd read the note yet or not. 'Okay, go face the preggo music, and I'll see you later.'

Spike left the locker room, saw Winnie was on a call with Team Two so he lifted his hand in a wave; she caught his eye and nodded with a little wink at him that made Spike's heart flip-flop in his chest. He made it to his truck in the parking lot when he heard the chipr of his phone with an incoming text message. He grinned, his ego getting all pumped up when he read Winnie's reply.

I'll think of you when I'm getting naked in the shower tomorrow morning - care to join me?

As they'd already planned that Winnie was going to his place straight after her shift to crash before the barbecue, Spike typed back always, sexy mama. You look yummy when you're wet knowing it would make her steam and miss him all the more, and because Spike loved to make his cool-and-collected Constable Camden all flushed and flustered whenever he could. Even better was when he knew he was doing so in the moments when she wanted him and couldn't have him, like when they were on shift together.

Satisfied, he turned on the engine of his truck, flipped on the music to discover that Winnie had left her stupid frickin' DeadMau5 CD in his player. It was tempting to chuck the disc out the window in the middle of Friday night rush-hour on the Gardiner but Spike knew that she'd have his head on a pike for that one so he switched it to Q107, the preset he'd given to Winnie. It was such a mystery to him - Winnie loved classic rock like ACDC, the Stones, Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin and her beloved Beatles, even a few Def Lepperd and Motley Crue tracks thrown in for good measure. How the bloody hell could someone with such obvious good taste be equally in love with all that thoomp-thoomp-thoomp techno-shit?

More, how could he be in love with a woman who had the audacity to call that music?

Because it was Winnie, he thought with a laugh as he headed out of the parking lot.


'Well, it's official, Scarlatti, you are a domesticated man now. You are doing your laundry that includes your girlfriend's panties on a Friday night while she is at work.'

Spike looked at the laundry rack in his living room, studied the assortment of clothes on the line there - there was his work uniform clothes, a couple of dress shirts he preferred not to spin in the dryer, and about four pairs of Winnie's panties she left at his place on purpose just to drive him crazy. All were what Spike would have previously considered date-night type panties but having discovered that Winnie had a weakness for wearing sexy underthings on a daily basis, beneath her regular clothes, that theory had gone out the window.

'You know she does it because she likes watching you get steamed up too,' he muttered to himself, then hollered, 'It's open!' when he heard the knock on his front door.

'Wow, those are some nice undies, Scarlatti. Does Winnie know you shop at the same lingerie store?'

Spike glanced over, saw Sam looking just as tired as before but far less strung out. 'Yeah, and she wears it all. I thought I was picking you up?'

'I took the subway over, I wanted some fresh air. Jules got angry with me for feeling guilty about hanging with you tonight.'

'Really,' Spike replied drily.

'She, ah, told me to expect no sex tonight if I didn't get the fuck out of the house and let her have one night of blissful relaxation with no-one except the baby nagging her.'

'Dude-'

'Yeah, yeah I know I earned it. But thankfully, she doesn't know I'm going to spend my bro-time with you at the grocery store.' Sam sighed, scratched his head. 'Mike, I am freaking out here.'

'What was your first clue?'

'How am I gonna do this? How am I gonna be Officer Braddock and Daddy and still have time for Sam?'

Spike shrugged, put the last of his work shirts on the rack to dry. 'I have a feeling you'll be better at finding the balance than you think. Besides, it's not like you're alone in this, you've got Jules and all of us, you know.'

'Really, you think I'll still have time for nights like this when there is a baby at home?'

'You mean the kind where Jules wants some time for herself and kicks you out to do the same?'

Spike watched Sam fumble a bit before he started to laugh. 'Guess that's just about right, huh?'

'Quit bitching and go get my grocery bags from the pantry.'


To Spike's utter amazement, getting Sam out of the house and having him to focus on a task as mundane as picking up party food supplies was the perfect ticket to distract him from feeling like a guilty little slug. He knew he had his man when Sam gave the rather well-informed grocery list a stern look with a skeptical eye.

'Dude, you know that you're feeding Team One and not the whole SRU, right?'

'Well, let's go over the guest list.' Spike held up his fingers, began to count. 'Greg and Marina, Dean and Mira, Ed, Sophie, Clarke and Issy-'

'Clarke's not bringing a date?'

'No, said he doesn't wanna bring home some university girl to a family thing. Anyways, Leah and her date, Raf and his lady, Wordy and Shelley and Ali, Gracie and Cari, and you two plus me, Winnie, Aaron, Pietr and Rachel.'

'I stand corrected.' Sam leaned his forearms on the push-bar of the cart. 'What is on the menu, shopping-wise at least?'

'Well, Winnie's already got the burgers made and chilling in the fridge, and the chicken breasts are marinating, so we are getting veggie dogs, veggies and fruit for kebabs and salad and toppings, stuff for the baked brie and a couple of dips, and ingredients for this-' Spike held out the recipe for Winnie's cream cheese frosting '-so we can have this amazing cake that Sophie and Issy asked her to make.'

'Oh, the one from the cottage with the balsamic strawberries?'

'That's the one.'

'And Winnie is making all this herself?'

'Well, I'm gonna help her,' Spike said with an affable shrug. 'She's incredibly fierce about being able to keep up with Sophie in the kitchen, even though I keep trying to tell her that she is a great chef, and Sophie is also a professional caterer.'

'Female pride, dude.' Sam shook his head as they headed for the produce section to start. 'If there is a single piece of advice I can pass on to you as a newlywed with a pregnant wife, don't ever-ever-ever screw with female pride. You will pay dearly for it.'

'Jules giving you grief? I mean, beyond tonight?'

'I made the mistake of asking her if it was necessary to shave her legs since she was wearing her work uniform for the day anyways.'

'And?'

'Burst into tears.'

Spike whistled as he selected carrots, celery, a head each of cauliflower and broccoli. 'Hormones have got a grip on her, haven't they?'

'Yeah, well, look who I'm talking to,' Sam jibed him easily, 'the way you and Winnie move like adorable little turtles our son or daughter will be in university before we're welcoming your bundle of joy into the world.'

'Nah, maybe three, four years tops. Your little one can be a flower girl or ring-bearer at the wedding.'

Sam stopped dead in his tracks, blinking like an owl. He watched Spike casually wander up to the cold-case for coleslaw mix and salad dressing. He felt his mouth go cotton-dry, his jaw working up and down without a single noise coming out. When Spike returned, dropping items into

'Here I thought you were good at diffusing bombs, not dropping them on your friends' heads. Seriously?'

'Seriously what?'

'Seriously, you two just started sleeping together like what, two weeks ago and now you're talking about getting married?'

'I'm talking to you about seeing my future with Winnie take that direction. I screwed up the first time asking her out, springing something on her neither of us was really ready to admit we wanted. I'm not gonna fuck this up with her again.'

Sam heard the steely tone in Spike's voice, couldn't blame him; he suddenly felt more than a little guilty about the shit they'd all given him over taking things slowly with his woman. 'Which is why knowing how she feels about you without saying it is enough for now.'

'Exactly. Man we really are domesticated,' Spike sighed, tugging on the front of the shopping cart to steer it towards the fruit aisles of the produce section.

'Huh?'

'Nothing, my own little joke. Hmm, mixed berries or straight up strawberries?'

'What did Winnie put on the list?' Sam asked, knowing it was his chance to turn Spike's own words back on him.

'Strawberries and blackberries.'

'Given what I just told you, don't you think it's a better idea to, y'know, do as the chef asks?'

'Good point.' Spike grabbed four pounds of strawberries, wrapped them in the light produce cello-bags. 'Winnie's pride is lethal when messed with.'

'My point.'


When Winnie dragged her gorgeous but sorry tired ass into Spike's house, she just wanted to collapse. She'd prayed for a slow night, a quiet night of patrols so she could file and photocopy to her heart's content, but no - both Teams Two and Five had to have hot calls that required her undivided attention.

'Seriously, just get a sack and put it ovr my head and make it be bedtime,' she sighed, unlocked the front door with the key Spike had given her. When she walked in, the scent of bacon wrapped around her senses like kudzu vines; along with it she could smell something fresh and sweet, and the scent of toasted French bread.

No, her droopy eyes weren't deceiving her - there was Spike in the middle of the kitchen in his gym shorts and black t-shirt, building something on a cutting board for breakfast. For a moment Winnie just stood there and watched him, the way he moved back and forth between the frying pan, the fridge, the counter was so much like him on the job. The movements were quick and precise, efficient with a little bit of kooky-Spike flare.

'Oh, man, she's gonna be here and she is not gonna wanna see the mess I made doing a nice thing for her.'

'Too late,' Winnie replied and had the satisfaction of watching her man jump a little before turning around to smile at her. 'Hi, baby.'

'Hello sleepy mama. How did you get home in one piece,' he inquired, noting how her eyes were nearly swollen shut from fatigue. 'Did Raf drive you home?'

'Yeah.'

'Wow, a one word answer. Maybe I should wrap this up, you can have it later?'

'No, no, you made it nice and hot and fresh for me. Is there juice?'

Spike nodded, gestured to the table and Winnie could see he really had gone all out for her after getting off work: he'd made her a BLT with the Monteray Jack cheese she loved so much, and set the table with fresh strawberries and a pitcher of orange juice.

'Oh, you're a saint. Saint Spiky-Mike.'

'Spiky-Mike.' If she was calling him that, it was highly likely Winnie couldn't even remember the colour of her own panties at the moment, Spike mused. 'You know, this'll keep, why don't we go upstairs and take care of those tired muscles?'

'Mmmm-, no. Hungry.'

'Okay.'

Still holding her hand, Spike took her over to the table; he pulled out her chair for her, poured her a glass of juice. He watched as she took a big bite of her sandwich, closing her eyes and moaning in delight, not unlike the way she did when he nibbled at her soft skin when they were in bed together. 'Oh, that's yummy, Mike. That's really really good.'

'How was your shift?'

'Mmm, long.' Winnie closed her eyes, took another bite as she propped her head on her hand while he chewed. 'Had hot calls for Two and Five.'

'Ooo, coffee's ready.' Spike jumped up, went to pour himself a cup. 'Busy night then?'

'Mmm-hmm?'

'What did Two have, I thought they were only on back up?'

'Mmm.'

'Winnie?' Spike turned around, and had to keep the laugh to himself this time - she'd nodded out after swallowing her bite of sandwich, and was about three seconds away from ending up face-first on her plate like a scene from Clue. Leaving his coffee on the counter, he went over and gently took took the sandwich out of her hand. 'Come on, Princess Winona, my sleeping beauty. Time for bed.'

When he only got an 'mmm' for a reply, Spike looped his arm under her knees, the other holding her beneath her shoulders and carried her upstairs to bed to get some rest. Only when he'd finished undressing her in the most clinical way he'd ever done, and she was in her bra and panties and wrapped in his summer-weight duvet did Winnie stir on a light groan.

'Mike, how'd I get here?'

'I carried you up You fell asleep mid-BLT, so I figured.

'But it's the barbecue today, we have so much to do!' Winnie protested.

'Sweetie, it's only eight in the morning, you can sleep until noon and then you can get up to boss me around like you like to do in the kitchen.'

'Oh. Okay.' With that, Winnie conked out again, and Spike went downstairs to wrap her breakfast up for when she'd be awake to actually enjoy it.