A/N: Most of the parts in these chapters will be in italics, meaning they're happening in the present—not written in the diary, but occurring in "real" life.

April 23, 2012—Later

I went into Mommy and Daddy's room to wake them up. Mommy always said that I couldn't get the door and Aunt Dawnie would never let me play dress-up with her stuff if I woke her up on a weekend.

"Wake up, sleepyheads," I said, climbing onto Daddy. His hair was tangled and stuck up in funny places. He cracked open an eye.

"Go back to bed, pet," he murmured. "Let Mum and Dad sleep. Please."

"But Mommy, Daddy, someone's at the door!"

Sure enough, the doorbell rang again.

Ding-DONG!

Mommy rolled over. "Honey, you get it."

"No way, luv. Not this time. You want the bloody door, you get it."

Ding-DONG!

Mommy pouted. "Please, Spike?"

"No, Slayer."

Ding-DONG!

Mommy got a mischievous little grin on her face. She reached her arm underneath the covers. "Pretty please?"

Daddy yelped. "Buffy! That's cheating!" he said, then noticed me. "And not in front of Angie!"

Mommy smiled again. "The door, darling."

Daddy groaned. "Out, pet. Let Daddy get dressed."

Daddy finally got downstairs, his hair still a mess. And do daddies not have nighties? 'Cause that's sad. I'd give my pink flannel ones to Daddy if he needs them.

Only they might not fit.

I followed Daddy downstairs.

Ding—

Daddy threw on a blanket and cracked the door open. "Bloody hell, stop ringing the sodding bell already—"

He stopped and just stared out the door, mouth open. Someone pushed the door open and a cluster of people rushed in, one of them under a smoking blanket. I wrinkled my nose.

"Back again, Peaches?" Daddy growled at the tall man in the smoking blanket.

"Spike," the man sighed. "I don't have time for this. Where's Buffy?" I didn't like him. He was mean to Daddy. Plus…

"Smoking is bad," I announced. "My Mommy says so."

The entire crowd of people stared up at me.

"What a cute little girl. You must be Buffy's daughter," the tall man said stupidly, pulling off his blanket and tossing it into a corner. I hated it when people called me cute.

"Smoking is bad. And your hair is stupid."

The tall man's eyes narrowed. "And obviously Spike's as well."

A lady next to him laughed and punched him in the arm. Good. "Angel, quit it."

Angel? Stupid hair…tall…broody-looking…"Uncle Angel?" I asked.

The big stupid man smiled again. "That's right. Did your mommy tell you about me?"

Daddy snorted.

"Nope. But Daddy tells me stories all the time, and you're in some of them," I replied.

Uncle Angel gave Daddy a sidelong look. "Is that right, William? And just what types of stories does Buffy allow you to tell little girls?"

"Angel." Mommy walked down the stairs, looking picture-perfect. "Cordelia, Wesley, Faith. How was the trip from LA?"

"Pretty normal," the one who had punched Uncle Angel earlier said. "And you have the cutest little girl!"

"Thanks, Cordy," Mommy replied, smiling at me. "Angie, that's your Uncle Angel. And that's Aunt Cordelia, Uncle Wesley, and Aunt Faith."

I stared at the pretty lady with dark hair.

"You were in my dream," I said in awe. "You're the pretty lady Mommy stabbed."

Aunt Faith got a funny look on her face. "Got the Slayer package from your Mom, huh, kid?"

I frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about, Aunt Faith. My mommy doesn't slay people."

She smiled crookedly and ruffled my hair. "Got that right. B's the good one."

Then Mommy woke up Aunt Dawnie and called over Aunt Willow and Uncle Xander, and made me stay upstairs with Aunt Dawnie while the grown-ups talked downstairs.

I asked Aunt Dawnie what all those people were doing in our house, but she just said not to worry about it. Then we played "Go Fish" for a while, but I got bored.

Aunt Dawnie promised to teach me a new game sometime, something called "Poker" that Daddy had taught her, a long time ago. But she said no kittens, which is too bad because I really wanted a kitty last year.