Boys Will Be Boys

Happily Ever After, and Then Some

By Delylah

Disclaimers: I own none of these characters. Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, UPN, and the WB own them. All hail Joss, god of the buffyverse.

This is a rather demented spoof of the "Buffy and Spike have kids and live happily ever after" tales. I suppose as the mother of a two-year-old I'm projecting a bit here. I've read stories where Buffy and Spike's (or Buffy and Angel's, or Buffy and insert father-of-your-choice's) kids are perfect little angels, or where Buffy and her suitor of the story are all aglow with romantic thoughts of her being or getting pregnant. I just don't see it, and this is my little contribution to that scenario.

I knew the minute I walked in the front door there would be trouble. I should have turned around, walked back out and kept going until I reached that fabled left-turn at Albuquerque. But no, I'm a responsible vampire these days. And responsible vampires don't run from their problems.

That's cause they're all slayer-whipped nancy-boy gits. And of course "they" are actually "me". I'm the only responsible (read: completely screwed) hell-forsaken fiend I know.

Anyway, as I was saying, responsible vampires like m'self don't run from their problems. Even when their problems have left yellow ooze dripping from the dining room chandelier, nicely accentuated by what appeared to be green slime plastered along the walls.

"Honey, I'm home!" I called into the frightfully empty-sounding house. It's always worse when there is no sound. I closed the door behind me and hung my tattered leather duster on the coat rack. She can chip my ass; she can make me drink pig's blood. But she'll never take my leather duster. It will disintegrate before I part with it, even if I have to put up with her yammering about it every single day from now until the next doomsday (of course, here on the Hellmouth that's probably not far off).

I walked past the dining room and noticed that one wall was slimed in purple instead of green. There was a dead bunny on the coffee table in the living room (good thing Anya rarely visits), and what appeared to be the makings of a bunny-sized shoebox coffin and cardboard headstone next to it. I took a few steps over towards the table so I could see the writing on the headstone. It was "engraved" in black magic marker and read "Here Lies Fluffy the Fourth. Rest In Peace." It matched the three other faded coardboard headstones in the back yard.

"Not again," I muttered to myself. Then I heard a sound that could strike fear into the heart of even the blackest soul (or non-soul) to walk the earth.

"SPIKE!!!!" The bellow practically shook the house.

"Yes, my love?" I sang, abandoning the decidedly deceased bunny and making my way to the stairs.

There at the top, in all her glory, was my Slayer. Her hair had probably once been pulled back into a neat ponytail, but now the ponytail hung loose and lopsided, with straggly pieces of hair pulled out here and there. The t-shirt and pants she wore were nicely figure revealing and were covered in what appeared to be the same purple, yellow, and green ooze that decorated the dining room. She wore no makeup and her skin positively glowed with a sheen of perspiration. Her breathing was ragged, as if she had been running non-stop up and down the stairs and only now paused for breath. The cause of her exertion was obvious: each arm was wrapped around a the waist of a wiggling, squealing, tiny blonde demon.

"DADDY!!!!" the demons screamed. My Slayer simply glared at me.

"Come on now, love. Is that any way to greet your devoted husband?"

She descended the stairs with slow, deliberate steps. The tiny blonde demons were quiet now. One might think they were actually repentant if one didn't know better. They put on a good act, those two. My slayer wasn't fooled though. She reached the bottom step, which put her almost nose to nose with me, and handed over first one demon and then the other.

"We should have named them Damien and Lucifer!" she hissed at me.

"Now, now, pet. Boys will be boys. Surely it's not as bad as all that."

"Did you not SEE the living room when you came in? Or the coffee table? And look at this!" she held her arm out to me. There were four tiny puncture marks, two on the top and two on the underside of her wrist. "One of the little devils bit me!"

"Which one?"

"I'M NOT EVEN SURE! It was William I think. But it could have been Rupert. It's hard to tell them apart when they're both covered in purple, green and yellow ooze! And look at me!!" She gestured towards her shirt. "I haven't been slimed this bad since the last time the hellmouth opened!"

"S'alright luv. Let me take care of these two and I'll be down in a sec." I headed back up the stairs, tiny blonde demons in tow. I put them down in the nursery and put on my "stern" face (every responsible vampire should have one, y'know).

"Now, one of you want to tell me who bit your mum?" They pointed at each other.

"Share the crime, share the punishment two times over." They looked at each other so seriously I had to try hard not to smile. Hey, they're cute tiny blonde demons. Take after their dad, of course. Finally William stepped forward.

"It was me Daddy. But I din't mean to."

"Why'd you bite your mum, William?"

"It was a assident. I pwomise."

"Did you tell her you were sorry?"

"No, Daddy." William shook his head from side to side as he spoke.

"Are you gonna?"

"Yes, Daddy," he replied, shaking his head up and down this time.

"Alright then. And who was it that snacked on Fluffy the Fourth?"

"I did, Daddy. I'm sowwy. I couldn't help it. I was hungwy!"

"Rupert, what have I told you about bunnies?"

"That they're rodents and they taste like pig swill."

"And what else?"

"That I can't have my bunny and eat it too."

"That's right. Now did we learn anything here today?"

"Yes Daddy. Don't eat bunnies. Daddy?"

"Yes, Rupert?"

"What's pig swill?"

"Never mind, Rupert. I'll explain it to you later. Do I even want to ask why the dining room is covered in goo?" Both boys vigorously shook their heads no. I sighed and kissed the tops of their heads. "You two stay here and be quiet for a while, else your mum is liable to sell you to the Hottentots."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, William?"

"What's a Hottentot?"

"I'll explain later William. Be a good boy now."

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, my slayer was sitting on the couch in front of the recently deceased, head in her hands and sobbing like a schoolgirl who'd been stood up on prom night.

"Hey, luv. I didn't realize you were so attached to the silly rabbit." She looked up and laughed, then socked me in the arm.

"Stop it! It's not funny!"

"What's not funny?"

"Our kids! They're terrible! They don't mind what I say and they make these huge messes and they eat their pets! And one of them bit me!"

"Pet, they're three. Kids do those things when they're three. Well, they do most of those things. Even the non half-vampire kids. And it was William that bit you. He said it was 'a assident'."

"Well sure it was an accident that he bit me. He was trying to bite Rupert!"

"What for?"

"They were fighting over a Tonka Truck. I told you we should have gotten two of them."

"Well, we'll just run to Toys-R-Us this weekend and buy 'em another one."

"Spike?"

"What, luv?"

"They won't be three forever, will they? Please tell me they won't." I could see genuine fear in her eyes, and I couldn't blame her. Twins that are three forever? It was enough to make me consider throwing myself headlong into the Hellmouth itself.

"They won't luv. I promise. You asked me that when they were one and again when they were two, and they did indeed turn three. They'll turn four and five too, don't worry." I kissed her temple and then turned my attention to poor Fluffy.

"So, when's the funeral?" She laughed again, then punched me in the arm.

"Ow! Give a guy a break, Slayer! That bloody well hurts!"

"Spike! Don't ever buy them another bunny again! The neighbors are going to start to wonder why we've got four bunny corpses in the back yard!"

"Buffy, luv, we live in Sunnydale. No one will think twice about it. And they wanted another pet."

"Next time get them a Poochi!" she snapped.

"Alright, luv. I will. Now, why don't you go out and have yourself a nice patrol? Find something really vile and nasty to stake. It'll make you feel better." I stood and took her by the hand to pull her up from the couch, drawing her in close to press a kiss against her lips. She resisted at first, then sighed contentedly when I slipped my hands under the back of her t-shirt and began to rub some of the tension out of her muscles. She drew away at the sound of a crash from upstairs and rolled her eyes.

"Those are YOUR children for the rest of the evening. And don't think I'm finished with you. I fully intend to continue this when I get back home." She poked me in the chest for emphasis.

"I certainly hope so, luv," I said, deliberately misconstruing her words. "After all, I plan to do some staking tonight myself." I leered at her and slid my hands down along her buttocks to give them a soft squeeze.

She smiled and gave me a quick kiss before she sprinted out the door.

I was half way up the stairs before I realized I'd forgotten to ask her how the dining room happened to become adorned in day-glow colored goop. When I heard another enormous crash coming from the boys' room, I decided I was better off not knowing anyway. As I continued up the stairs, I wondered how long it would take me to disintegrate if I staked myself.

The End