Three's Company (Interlude)

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don’t own any of the characters in here other than Joy. Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own everyone else. No infringement is intended.

Distribution: 

http://mysticmuse.net

http://megawitches.org

Just email me and let me know so I can put a link to you on my site and keep track of where my stories are.

Spoilers: This story isn’t exactly canon. It takes place after “The Gift” but it doesn’t have Willow getting addicted and W/T never broke up or fought over the magic.

Feedback: PLEASE! This is my first complete fic so any feedback you can send is most appreciated. Be honest, I can’t make it better without honest feedback.

Grouping: Buffy/Willow/Tara

It had been one week since Joy came home to us. One week since Willow, Tara, and I were cramped into the birthing room and witnessed the glorious sight of our daughter for the first time. My heart had spilled over, so full it just couldn't hold anymore happiness. A couple of days afterward we brought Tara and Joy home I found I just couldn't keep myself away from them. If I wasn't trying to steal as many moments as possible with Joy, then I was capturing the moments others had with her on camera and video.

But then...

Buffy told Willow to take Tara out for the night. Take her to the movies or a nice dinner, or even both for that matter. She figured that they both desperately needed a break. They had been working nonstop to get their degrees and then the baby came right on top of it all and she knew Tara was starting to feel some cabin fever after having been cooped up in the hospital and the house for the past few days. That left Buffy and Joy to themselves for a good portion of the day.

By the time Willow and Tara came home a few hours later they were slightly alarmed. As soon as they walked in it looked like a demon had run through the house and wreaked havoc on its way. Then they realized that it was just toys. Tons and tons of baby paraphernalia covered nearly every inch of the living room, leeching out into the foyer and even into the dining room. "Did a toy bomb explode that we didn't know about?" Willow muttered as she and Tara cautiously stepped through the swamp of plastics and stuffing and made their way upstairs. They noticed the bathroom door was open with the light on and the sound of trickling water coming from it. They popped their heads in and noticed the sink was dripping, diapers in various stages of dismemberment were strewn about, and white dust covered nearly every inch of surface.

They trekked further down the hallway to the bedroom the three of them shared, noting the occasional pile of powder leading to and from the room. Willow and Tara couldn't help the already huge smirks they had plastered on their faces as they eased the door open. Even more toys layered the room and the witches had to wonder how they even came into the huge amount of play-things in only one week's time. The chuckle burst forth from both women as they saw Buffy and Joy. Joy was sleeping soundly in the bassinet, which was in the middle of the bed. Buffy, on the other hand, looked like she'd been through not just one, but probably five apocalypses. Her lovely blonde tresses was splayed in everything direction, some spikes were clearly from her pulling on her own hair in frustration. Her face looked exhausted, ragged, and drawn. Her eyes were half-open, clearly bloodshot, and red rimmed, no doubt from getting puffs of baby powder in them. Her clothes were haphazardly layered on her body and her shirt hung off one shoulder. She was laying on the bed, but one leg and one arm were hanging limply off the side, her face smushed against the mattress.

"Oh... my... god," Tara laughed at the insane sight before her and throughout the house.

"Give her demons, vamps, and world-ending disasters, no problem. Give her a baby for a couple of hours and she's out for the count." Willow joked.

"Help..." a tiny, weak voice croaked out and the witches almost didn't hear it.

"Buffy?" Willow and Tara asked in concern at the same time, wondering if the Slayer really was injured in some way.

"Help. Shoot me. Put me out of my misery." She groaned and shifted on the bed, completely exhausted.

Willow and Tara smiled, assured that their lover was indeed safe. They curled up onto the bed and Tara pulled Buffy's head onto her lap, stroking her hair, or, at least trying to around all the wayward knots. Willow peeked over the side of the bassinet and cooed at the adorable sleeping baby who sucked on her knuckles.

The witches stripped down, helped Buffy disrobe as her jello-like limbs refused to cooperate, and the trio settled down into bed cuddling close together while Joy slept beside the bed.

The End

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