A/N: So this was always supposed to be a two-shot and I never intended to write any more for it but apparently there was a little bit left in the tank, an epilogue of sorts. As always riveroad is entirely to blame/thank for my sudden absurd need to indulge in writing Spike and Winnie.

Disclaimer : The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and its respective networks. I am making no money off this story and it is for entertainment purposes only. However, this particular story is my creation and should not be used without my express written permission.

Winnie flopped over on her back beside him, thoroughly spent, breathing heavily. When she could speak she said, "Well, that was … as advertised. I am utterly without sense. Or coherent thought. Or bones, possibly."

"Should probably shower."

"Yeah." She agreed, but neither of them made a move to get up.



"I've been thinking."

"Well for god's sake, do it over there. And keep your hands to yourself," she added as an afterthought.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked in mock offense, rolling over on his side, propping his head up with his hand so he could look at her.

"That's what you said…" twenty minutes ago? An hour? Yesterday? She realized she had no idea and turning her head to look at the clock seemed way too much like work, "You know, before. When I was just minding my own business on the couch reading."

Yeah, "reading" he thought - with her hair all pulled up on top of her head and her new pregnancy compelled reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. She'd had her pen resting against her bottom lip, poised to make notes in her pregnancy bible as she called the 'What to Expect' book – looking all naughty librarian, completely oblivious to him. And frankly she should know better by now. He'd done the only thing he could do and… "Worked out pretty well for you."

"And for you. So you can stop looking so proud of yourself any time now," she said playfully, without opening her eyes.

"You're not even looking at me," he accused, grinning.

"I can hear you smirking."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," he laughed. Okay. Possibly he was smirking but who could blame him? She was so gorgeous, all flushed and delightfully mussed by his hand and he was pretty sure he was fairly directly responsible for the awesomeness that was going on with her breasts lately too, but he wasn't stupid enough to take credit for that. Out loud. "As I was saying… I've been thinking. We should get a dog."

This time she did turn her head and open her eyes so she could roll them at him, "Please tell me this isn't about playing the hero for Sadie."

"It's not," he protested. Not entirely anyway. Fringe benefit maybe.

"Spike, we work ridiculous hours."

"Lots of people with jobs have dogs, Win."

Yeah that had sounded like a pretty lame argument even to her. Honestly why couldn't they have these discussions in the morning when she had her wits about her? Weren't men supposed to be hardwired to fall asleep after sex? Why did hers think it was a solid time to make major life decisions? She was reasonably sure this was how he'd convinced her it was time to have a baby too.

"And anyway," he continued, "Pretty soon you'll be home more."

"Yep. Just sitting at home twiddling my thumbs and eating bon bons," she replied sarcastically, "Oh no wait – that doesn't sound quite right. Spike, I'll be home with an infant. Did you hear nothing that Sam said about how much trouble newborns are?"

"I heard everything he said," he insisted, "I only pretend I'm not listening to Sam; it keeps him humble," he added as an aside. "That's why I think now is the perfect time. When she just looked at him like he'd lost all of his marbles, he kept going, "We have six months give or take. That's totally enough time to get him trained and housebroken before the baby comes."

Possibly he had a point. "Stop touching my hair." She waved his hand away. Like she wasn't having enough trouble trying to focus right now?

"We even have time to take him to obedience school if you want. Teach him not to chew on your feather boas," he winked at her.

"Do I have time to send my husband to obedience school?" she asked only half joking.

"Maybe but sadly for you, you're the one who nixed the word obey in our vows," he grinned and continued, undaunted, "And if we wait, we miss our window. Because as I understand it, babies don't get any less high maintenance as they start crawling and walking and such, and then before we know it you're back at work, and then pretty soon we're talking about number two…" he trailed off as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Too far?"

She just shook her head in disbelief. Only he would have the nerve to bring up the idea of baby number two while number one was still turning her inside out every afternoon and he was trying to convince her to get a puppy. "You're a brat."

"And just think what a great trial run this will be for us at this whole parenthood thing," he wheedled.

"And if we fail? Little late to change our minds on the 'whole parenthood thing' if it turns out we suck at it."

"So we'll make all our mistakes with the dog," he shrugged. "Or maybe we'll be naturals. Come on Winnie. Every kid should have a dog. I had a dog growing up. You had two. Don't you want our baby to have a dog?"

"Oh shut up! And stop looking at me like that," she shoved lightly at his shoulder, pushing him over onto his back, "I'll think about it."

Deciding to let it go for now he repeated his earlier suggestion, "We should probably shower."

"Any chance I can do that without leaving this bed?"

He snorted, "Not much chance, no."

"Then it might just have to wait until morning. I'm exhausted."

"Well I'm going to start the water," he made his way to the ensuite.

"So, hypothetically speaking…" he heard her call from the bedroom and grinned as he reached for the tap, knowing he'd won. She never moved on to hypotheticals until she'd already made up her mind.

He flipped the shower lever and leaned over to look back through the doorway, "Yeah?'

"Hypothetically, if we did do this, what kind of dog are you thinking?"

"I want a real dog."

"Yes. Presumably we are not having this whole discussion about a stuffed animal," she summoned the energy to sit up and swing her legs over the edge of the bed. Now that the water was running she needed to go to the bathroom anyway. How something the size of a plum could make her need to pee so much was frankly beyond her.

"Ha ha. Very funny. I mean like a big dog, one with some substance. Not one of those yappy little runaway bedroom slipper excuses for a dog."

"Hypothetically I think big dogs are generally better with small children anyway," she agreed as he offered her his hands and tugged her to her feet.

"You go ahead. I'll make a new bed," he offered, knowing one of her most favourite things in the world was to crawl into a fresh bed after a long shower.

"Now you're just sucking up unnecessarily," she leaned in to give him a quick kiss, "But I'll take it."

A few minutes later, he stepped into the shower with her. When she looked about to protest, he raised his hands in surrender, "Relax. I come in peace." He had a pretty extensive vocabulary – he understood what 'exhausted' meant. He'd also learned in the last couple of months that pregnancy had added another level entirely to the word.

"You'll behave?"

He shrugged, "Mostly. But I need some water too," he stepped closer to her, looping his arms around her waist. "So I can start doing some research? Hypothetically of course," he grinned.

"I suppose," she said grudgingly, "As long as your "research" doesn't cause any trouble for Sam and Jules."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I know how you operate. You'll be all offering to take Sadie for ice cream and oh look it just happens to be right next door to the pet store. Why don't we just pop in and have a look?"

He rolled his eyes. Not that she was entirely wrong. "Online research. Into breeds and stuff." he promised.

"If," she waved her finger at him, "IF we do this, it's got to be a rescue. No breeders or pet stores."

"Oh, we're doing this," he was grinning stupidly now. She'd moved on from hypotheticals to conditions. They were totally getting a puppy.

"And no hacking the helper dog list. For us or for Sadie. You want the dog to get you a beer? You have to train it yourself."

"Cross my heart."

Later, snuggled down together under the duvet, Winnie was almost asleep when Spike nudged her, "Win?"

"Don't tell me you've been thinking again," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"No, just wondering. Do you think you're going to need those reading glasses at work?"

"No. It just seems to be at night when I'm tired. The book says it probably won't get worse throughout my pregnancy and my eyes will probably go back to normal after. Why?"

"Because if you are, we're going to need to discuss contact lenses or I'm going to get fired."

"Say 'good night' Spike."

"Good night Spike. Love you, Win."

"Love you."

A/N 2: Thanks so much for reading. And I know at least half of you are thinking "needs more jam" right about now ;) I am working on a jammy epilogue as well - it's just not finished yet. But I'm not going to lie - I am highly motivated by reviews. As always, they make my day!