Epilogue
Elizabeth smiled softly as the last rays of the sun tinged the sky a brilliant orange. She breathed in the salty night air and leaned forward on the balcony of their cozy little villa, savoring this moment of peace for as long as it would last…
Which was inevitably all of five seconds.
A crash sounded from Dawn’s room, followed by her high-pitched scream of “Get out! Get out! Get out!” and only seconds later Alexander ran streaming by, a look of satisfied guilt on his face. Elizabeth caught her son by the arm before he could flee.
“What exactly is going on, young man?” she demanded as sternly as she could manage. She always had a hard time remaining cross with this one, though. He had the same beautiful blue eyes as his father, and all she had to do was look into them and her heart would melt.
Unfortunately, Alexander was also every bit the mischievous imp his father was and used those eyes of his to his advantage as often as possible. “Sorry, Mum,” he insisted with suspicious innocence, “it was just an accident…”
Accident!” his older sister screeched, stalking out of her room. “He up-ended my entire bag on the floor, Mum!”
“She threw her shoe at me!” Alexander countered, pointing accusingly. “Nearly hit me right in the head!”
“Me?!” Dawn repeated in disbelief. “I’m not the one who keeps sneaking out his bedroom window to terrorize—”
“Dawnie?” a soft, meek little voice broke up the shouting match. Elizabeth smiled as her youngest and calmest child, Joyce, managed to break up the war with nothing more than a whisper. “I wepacked your bag…”
Miraculously, that ended the confrontation, and Dawn and Alexander scampered back to their separate rooms.
A soft chuckle greeted Elizabeth’s ears, and she turned to see her devilishly handsome husband standing behind her, watching the younger generation with obvious amusement in his eyes. Unconsciously, she wet her lips, already imagining how she would free his magnificent body from the clothes that so cruelly concealed it the instant they went to bed tonight…
“Caught you fantasizin’ again,” din’t I?” he teased, slipping his arms around her waist from behind.
His hands came to rest on her once-more-flat belly, and he stroked it sensuously, obviously imagining it full and round with his fourth child. Fortunately, Elizabeth had borrowed several of Anya’s techniques and had thus prevented herself from becoming a perpetual breeding factory of little Williams. Not that she had anything against little Williams, mind you. In fact, she absolutely adored the little monsters, as she referred to them affectionately. But she already had three loveable demon-spawn to deal with – all born within four years – and she didn’t really think she could handle any more at the moment…
“I need something to get me through the chaos,” she agreed, snapping out of her reverie long enough to answer William’s question.
“They always get like this right before they go off to school,” he reminded her. “But, just think, after tomorrow it’ll just be the two ‘f us, pet. All alone, big soft bed…”
“Nice, sturdy walls,” she agreed with a wistful smile.
“Quality Spike time straight through Christmas,” he murmured into her ear.
“Mmm…Spike…” she had drifted off happily into a wonderful little fantasy world – one where her children weren’t threatening to appear at any moment so she could safely tackle her husband to the ground and have her wicked way with him.
“Although we could always take up Xander’s offer for a visit…” he suggested. “You know how ‘e always gets lonely when Anya’s pregnant and shore-bound. It’ll be even worse this time what with Giles off with Jennifer…”
“You’re just trying to convince me to let you return to your thieving ways,” she accused.
“Well, yeah,” he agreed. “You can’t tell me you don’t love the…excitement. It’ll be like a second honeymoon…”
“Fourth,” she corrected with a smile, “and…tempting. I’ll consider it.”
“Don’t s’pose you can be swayed?” One of his hands slipped down her thigh…
She gasped in response. “You’re welcome to…try…” she murmured breathlessly.
“It’ll be better’n visitin’ your dad at the least,” William pointed out.
Elizabeth winced at that. There had been something of a reconciliation several years back so that Henry could check out his ‘newest assets’. The family gathering had begun with Henry commenting to William how impressed he was that William had finally succeeded in taming Elizabeth, and William promptly bursting out into hysterical laughter that was only stopped after several pointed jabs in the ribs. It was obviously not the response Henry had expected, and things naturally went downhill from there.
The only good thing that had come it was that they had finally learned that Lord Abrahms had passed away the previous year, his fortunes never recovered and knowing full-well that his only son had picked up a nasty disease of the sort that guaranteed he wouldn’t be able to produce any viable offspring in the few years before he withered away.
Ah, happy times…
“Y’know, pet,” William said, continuing to rub her stomach, “we could put ourselves to good use, create another li’l William – one the age of Anya’s Margaret. Be a nice li’l playmate…”
“You just want me pregnant again so that you can fuss unnecessarily and try to order me around,” she accused.
“Maybe,” he conceded, blue eyes shinning. “So whattaya say?”
“Maybe,” she agreed with a coy smile, leaning in to kiss him…
“Mum!” Alexander’s cry broke the moment.
“Or maybe not,” William agreed with a chuckle.
“Dad!” Alexander stalked into the hallway. “Someone stole my—”
He was cut off when Joyce tapped him on the shoulder and handed him the cricket bat he’d left in the living room. “Hewe.”
“Never mind,” Alexander shrugged, heading back to his room.
William and Elizabeth watched their youngest with awe.
“You’re positive you’re her real mother?” William whispered in Elizabeth’s ear.
“I resent that!” she mock-huffed. “I can be a sweet little angel, too!”
He gave her a skeptical look. “When?” he demanded. “’Cause in all the ten years we’ve been together—”
“Oh, hush!” she scolded him, batting his head playfully. “Besides,” she couldn’t help but tease, “did it never occur you that maybe you’re not her real father?”
He growled at that and pressed her against the wall, kissing her breathless. “I keep you too well satisfied to go lookin’ around elsewhere,” he argued persuasively, his hand cleverly demonstrating his point.
“That you do,” she agreed with a happy smile. “That you do…”