Four Months Later

Spike answered the door with Scotty fast on his heels rolling around in the walker contraption of his. Spike joked with Buffy that he was going to install carpet throughout the first floor so that Scotty would encounter some resistance when rolling around to slow him down some.

"Hey Red," he said, offering the witch a sincere smile. "Tell me you've been able to work your computer mojo."

"Hi Spike and I have. Willow Rosenberg, computer hacker extraordinaire. Are you sure Buffy's not going to get mad about this?"

"No, Red, we've had a lot of conversations about this and I know how scared she is."

"Okay, yeah," she said, patting Scotty on the head. "Hi Scotty, are you giving Daddy fits?"

"He's cutting another tooth, so he keeps gumming those toys. Makes a drooling, slobbering mess all over the damned place, too."

"Uh Spike?"

"Yes, I know it is part of the whole baby development thing. I hate hearing him cry knowing there's nothing I can do besides swab some of that stuff on his gums."

"It's cute," Willow said, cupping Scotty's head with the palm of her hand. "Anyway, I got all of the paperwork you wanted."

Spike kissed Willow's cheek and chuckled when she blushed. "Thanks, Red."

"You're welcome, Spike. I'm glad I could do it for you. It was kind of fun, actually."

"I'll bet you had a good time doing it. How much do I owe you?"

"You don't owe me anything; I did it for you and for Buffy and Scotty. I find it hard to believe he hasn't come back."

"Me, too, Red. But this should take care of all of that, right?"

"It should. Scotty has a dad listed on his birth certificate now and the forms were filled out with bogus information, and if anyone were to really look they'd find a death certificate, too. I didn't know how else to handle that, I couldn't just list some guy and risk having someone show up at his door asking questions."

"Red, you're bloody brilliant."

"I've got your stuff, too. So, you're all legal like, can work and everything."

Spike opened up the envelope and glanced at his identity. He had specified to Willow that Scotty's father's name could not be William; Riley might have caught onto that if he really got to digging. But for Spike to look at his actual name on legal documents again was somewhat shocking. William Sutton said his passport and the green card Willow had procured for him. His date of birth had been altered by about one hundred ten years, but otherwise this was him. She was indeed amazing. "Thanks, Red. If I can do anything for you, just let me know."

"Don't mention it, but I will. And everything is legit, as legit as my hacking into databases and altering information is."

"I doubt this will be necessary, but I wanted to be sure and since I was having you doctor up my papers I figured might as well do it, too."

"You don't think he suspects?"

"I don't know, Willow. I find it hard to believe he'd just leave if he thought Scotty was his."

"True," she said with a nod. "Well, I'm going to go."

"Thanks again."

"No problem, it was fun." She bent down and kissed Scotty's cheek. "Bye Scotty." The nine month old had no words for Willow, but he did grab a hold of some of Willow's hair and tugged on it not so gently. "Ouch," Willow said. This was an activity Buffy complained about frequently, so Spike had to chuckle when he saw Scotty tugging on someone else's hair. She dislodged her hair from his fist and then stood. "Bye Spike."

Scotty was sleeping in his playpen in the living room when Buffy came home from her last final exam of the semester. She was taking the summer off from schooling, but was not going to pick up any more hours at the drug store she worked at. That was at Spike's insistence, and now that Willow had provided him with legal documentation he felt confident that Buffy would soon be able to quit that job entirely if she wanted to.

Spike watched her from the doorway as she stood over Scotty's playpen and adjusted his blanket around him. It was blue with a sheep embroidered on it and was Scotty's favorite blanket. It had been with him since he was born, one of Joyce's friends had made it for Buffy, and Spike suspected Buffy cherished it because someone had made it.

"Hey," she said, walking up to him once satisfied Scotty was safe and sound. Her arms went around his neck and she kissed him, lingering just enough to give him a taste. He loved that she came home to him and that he was on the receiving end of her kisses.

"Hey yourself, Goldilocks, I've got a bit of a surprise for you."

"Oh? A surprise of the good I hope."

"I hope you'll think so, yes. Willow came by earlier."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes, Slayer, everything's fine." He led her into the dining room where the envelope Willow had given him earlier was. He slid it over to her; his own surprise in another envelope could wait a minute or two.

"Willow did this?"

"Uh huh, I asked her to. I needed her to do some things for me, so I figured may as well put into action what you and I had talked about since Riley's last visit."

"It's just so weird seeing a name on here that's not yours or Riley's."

"I know, pet."

"I'm glad it's done though, I keep having dreams. Well, you know. But he comes back and takes him or I wake up and he's gone. I can't lose him, Spike. I'd go crazy."

"I know you would, why do you think I agreed it should be done if we could find a way? I still think that he has a right to know, but understand your fears and I know it would crush you to lose Scotty. You're my concern, not Riley Finn, so I have to side with you on this."

"Thanks," she said as she paged through the few additional papers. "What did you get?"

"Well, I got my passport and my green card and that means," he said, holding out a second envelope to her. "I can actually earn a living now."

She took the envelope and frowned as she opened it. "You wrote a book?"

"Yeah, and someone's actually going to buy it. Can you believe that?"

"What's it about?"

"Believe it or not," he chuckled. "The Boxer Rebellion. A foreigner's perspective of the events that took place."

"How are you going to get away with that? I mean, you can't look as young as you do and be able to write about something that took place one hundred years ago."

"Memoirs. Familial memoirs."

Her eyes widened and Spike assumed she had gotten to the part in the letter that talked about his compensation. "Wow," she said, apparently as stunned as Spike had been.

"I have others I can write. Some experiences during the Depression, wars and so forth and they want to see my ideas."

"Wow that's great, honey," she said, putting the papers back into their envelopes. "How long has he been asleep for?" she asked as her fingers began to dexterously unbutton his shirt.

"Not long, twenty minutes or so."

"Mm, good, long enough for me to congratulate you on a job well done then," she said. "Maybe I can give you some different things to write about, you know that don't have to do with death. A good love story maybe?"

"I like the sound of that," he said as she took his hand and led him upstairs. "Death is seriously overrated."

"We'd better get working on it then."

"We already have been working on it, pet. Got it all committed to memory, bitter enemies turned adversaries turned friends turned lovers."

"It's the stuff little girls dream about. Well, except the bitter enemies part of the story, but we're better for it."

"You know it," he said, joining her on the bed. "I guess what they say is true about there being a fine line between love and hate."

"We're certainly proof of that."

"I'd say so," he said kissing her.

~The End~

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com