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The runners squeaked as she rocked back and forth, singing softly to her son. Her son. What wonderful words those were. He was only a few days old, but already he ruled their lives. She kept rocking, wanting to make sure he was asleep.
Giles had bought the old rocker at an antiques store. She'd protested that it was too nice, she really didn't need anything that fancy. But he'd insisted, saying it reminded him of the chair his grandmother had rocked him in as a boy.
Now she was glad for its well worn runners and high back. She'd rocked in it a few times before Daniel was born, it calmed him, stopped him from turning her uterus into a punching bag. Now she rocked him to sleep after a feeding. She looked over to see Giles standing in the doorway.
"He's down for the count. Want to put him to bed?"
Giles came over and gently took his son. Seeing Buffy in the chair, rocking Daniel to sleep, filled his heart with love. He blessed the day he found out she loved him. He placed a small kiss on Daniel's head before offering a hand to Buffy.
Taking it, she got up and kissed her husband. They walked quietly to the crib. She looked at their son and then at Giles.
"Thank you."
"For what love?"
"For the chair, for Daniel, for everything."