As Grace slept peacefully in her bed, curled in a ball under the blanket,
hugging her knees to her chest, a hairy-faced man knelt outside her window,
staring intently at her sleeping breath.
"Yo, Jack, is that her?" The unshaven man turned to another, rather hairy, man.
Jack looked over his partner's shoulder and into the room. From their position on the roof they had a clear view of the interior of the five-year- old's bedroom, covered in stuffed animals and posters of fluffy kittens and the like, but strangely, none of bunnies... "Yeah, that's her."
"When do we bag her?" Mark, hairy-man #1, rocked back on his heels to give Jack a better view.
"When the boss says to. Let's get out of here." Jack crawled to the edge of the roof and leapt gracefully to the ground. Mark at his side, though a little less slick and a little clumsier.
"Why don't you stay here today, until sundown?" Tara called into the living room from her place at the stove where she was cooking up a batch of funny-shapes and rounds. "We don't want you to fry on the way home."
Spike walked into the kitchen, where all the blinds were drawn to accommodate him. "Yeah, sure, thanks." He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a packet of blood, biting into it, the vamp found a spot at the table next to Grace. The child was drinking her orange-juice and playing with a Superman action-figure.
Willow made her way into the kitchen, newspaper in hand, and stopped to kiss her lover. "Hey Baby. Oooo funny-shapes! Two for me please, thank ya Baby." The redhead plopped on one of the four chairs surrounding the table and unfolded the paper. She handed Spike the front page, put the funnies at Tara's place, and took the business page for herself.
Tara put the pancakes on the table and took Spike's mug from him, putting it in the microwave. 'Welcoming' his 'Thanks' and handing it back to him.
"98, damn woman, you're good." Spike took an appreciative sip and ignored the piercing glare Willow gave him.
"Spike, please, Grace is here." Tara's chiding was more peaceful and calmer then Willow's.
"See that, all you needed was a little courtesy." Spike smirked at Willow and turned his attention Grace. "Don't say 'damn.' Ok, Pet? Good."
Tara smiled and cut a pancake into fourths for Grace, putting the plate in front of her and taking the toy out of her hand. "You can have him back after your done."
There were two knocks at the door, it opened, and Xander made his way into the house. "Have no fear, the butch man is-" Xander noticed Spike and paused, "already here I see. Oooo pancakes! Anya and Buffy are outside talking to your neighbors, something about a disturbance. I'd bet it was him." Xander pointed an accusing finger at Spike and got himself a plate from the counter, putting three pancakes on it and smothering them in syrup.
"It was not me you prick! I didn't do a bloody thing I wasn't supposed to! Grace's alive isn't she?" Spike waved his fork around and threatened to gouged Xander's heart out with it.
Willow argued with Grace, who was intent on getting her Superman action- figure from her Mom.
Anya and Buffy were bickering in the driveway.
Tara smiled and sighed; it was another morning at the happy home.
"Yo, Jack, is that her?" The unshaven man turned to another, rather hairy, man.
Jack looked over his partner's shoulder and into the room. From their position on the roof they had a clear view of the interior of the five-year- old's bedroom, covered in stuffed animals and posters of fluffy kittens and the like, but strangely, none of bunnies... "Yeah, that's her."
"When do we bag her?" Mark, hairy-man #1, rocked back on his heels to give Jack a better view.
"When the boss says to. Let's get out of here." Jack crawled to the edge of the roof and leapt gracefully to the ground. Mark at his side, though a little less slick and a little clumsier.
"Why don't you stay here today, until sundown?" Tara called into the living room from her place at the stove where she was cooking up a batch of funny-shapes and rounds. "We don't want you to fry on the way home."
Spike walked into the kitchen, where all the blinds were drawn to accommodate him. "Yeah, sure, thanks." He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a packet of blood, biting into it, the vamp found a spot at the table next to Grace. The child was drinking her orange-juice and playing with a Superman action-figure.
Willow made her way into the kitchen, newspaper in hand, and stopped to kiss her lover. "Hey Baby. Oooo funny-shapes! Two for me please, thank ya Baby." The redhead plopped on one of the four chairs surrounding the table and unfolded the paper. She handed Spike the front page, put the funnies at Tara's place, and took the business page for herself.
Tara put the pancakes on the table and took Spike's mug from him, putting it in the microwave. 'Welcoming' his 'Thanks' and handing it back to him.
"98, damn woman, you're good." Spike took an appreciative sip and ignored the piercing glare Willow gave him.
"Spike, please, Grace is here." Tara's chiding was more peaceful and calmer then Willow's.
"See that, all you needed was a little courtesy." Spike smirked at Willow and turned his attention Grace. "Don't say 'damn.' Ok, Pet? Good."
Tara smiled and cut a pancake into fourths for Grace, putting the plate in front of her and taking the toy out of her hand. "You can have him back after your done."
There were two knocks at the door, it opened, and Xander made his way into the house. "Have no fear, the butch man is-" Xander noticed Spike and paused, "already here I see. Oooo pancakes! Anya and Buffy are outside talking to your neighbors, something about a disturbance. I'd bet it was him." Xander pointed an accusing finger at Spike and got himself a plate from the counter, putting three pancakes on it and smothering them in syrup.
"It was not me you prick! I didn't do a bloody thing I wasn't supposed to! Grace's alive isn't she?" Spike waved his fork around and threatened to gouged Xander's heart out with it.
Willow argued with Grace, who was intent on getting her Superman action- figure from her Mom.
Anya and Buffy were bickering in the driveway.
Tara smiled and sighed; it was another morning at the happy home.