A/N: Just a little note to make you smile (or piss you off) - Lines from the movie at the end of this ficlet belong to the totally underrated 1994 film 'Reality Bites" (in which Lelaina and Troy's relationship, I feel, really mirrors in many ways that of Buffy and Spike). Please enjoy.
"No. You don't... Understand. These things never go well." Buffy was leaned back in the bathtub, fiddling with her port cap, taking it off and on repeatedly. Spike was leaned against the wall opposite her, flipping through an old print issue of Spin Magazine.
"Sodding 'number two'! I never had a computer back then and I played the shite out of Kid A!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Buffy said without the least hint of concern in her voice.
"Give an example."
"Like when you talk about lorries, and crisps, and like that." She smiled and went back to fiddling.
"An example of the 'not going well'." He grabbed a wash cloth off the side of the tub and tossed it at her, making a splash as it missed and hit the water.
"Oh that." She leaned her head back and closed her eyes wearily. *Every year* she thought with resentment. "Well, there was last year when Dawn was going through her 'I wanna be an adult' phase at the same time as her 'my family really hates me' phase' added to the 'I'm terrified our mom has cancer' phase, and she set her room on fire and ran away to break into the bookstore and steal things. There was -"
"The Bit set her room on fire?" Spike shouted in surprise. "Regular ol' punk rock kid after all."
"It wasn't funny and it really upset Mom. Now can I...?"
"Yeah, sorry. Examples."
"There was the year before that when Dad canceled our yearly Ice Show Date. Haven't seen him on my birthday since. There was the year that Angel and I finally..." She could practically hear Spike's blood boiling. "And then he dumped me for the first time."
"Do I have'ta keep workin' for the sod? 'Cause I'm pretty sure they fire you if you assault your boss..." He tossed the magazine aside and moved on his knees toward the side of the tub.
"Don't be like that. He's a good guy... Most of the time. But, like you're such a choir boy everyday." He snorted derisively. "Anyway, you should be happy we broke up. I could still be with him now. Not you."
"Don't like how he looks at you," he said, snaking his hand beneath the water and between her legs. The Bit was at work with Anya. Willow had moved up to Berkeley last week. They had the apartment to themselves.
"Stop it," she protested weakly.
"But if I stop now, how we gonna get to the sex part?" he asked a little too seriously. Taking his hand back, despite his protests, he stood and reached down to help her to her feet.
"What are you doing now?"
"Have you ever actually had sex in a bathtub?"
"Nope." She stepped out as he wrapped a fluffy towel around her.
"Opposed to what popular media would have you believe, sex in a tub is... not sexy. I need to get you into a nice, soft bed."
"Is that right?"
"Yeah. I'll even turn on KidA. Teach you somethin' bout music."
"Kid A?"
"No, you're right. In Rainbows is the better album for shaggin'."
"Are we sure that this is the best way to commemorate Buffy's turning 23?" Anya asked nervously as she paced around the kitchen - it was big enough to pace in after all, so why not take advantage?
"Everyone loves a party, Ahn." Xander used to think it was annoying when she acted other than human, but after a while it had become kinda sweet; he corrected her almost without thinking these days.
"Oh I'm not denying that. It's just, well, we're all getting older. Willow is at Berkeley. You have your job as a contracting foreman. I'm raking in piles of cash at the bookshop. She doesn't work, has just changed her major when she's already a semester behind in school, and her father still pays her living expenses."
"Hey, I would be ecstatic if Buffy's dad paid my living expenses."
"It's not a joke, Xander. Maybe she's not looking forward to celebrating her waning youth." She stood next to the cupcake stand looking very worried.
"Anya, she's twenty-three, not dead!" Willow exclaimed. "We're all twenty-three. There's nothing wrong with getting older." Willow had flown down for the weekend especially for the party. No one was gonna say it out loud, but this would be Buffy's first Birthday without her mom. Christmas had been hard enough for her. Will was determined to remain a faithful and supportive friend, even if she did live on the other end of the state now. "Dawnie, is Spike gonna have trouble getting her here?"
"Nope," Dawn smiled. "I told them I wanted to have one of my guy friends over for movie night. Spike got really pale - well, more than he already is - and they couldn't seem to say 'they both wanted to be here' fast enough."
"So, you didn't tell him about the party?"
"Are you kidding? You can trust Spike with a secret from anyone except Buffy. She'd twist it out of him with her little finger."
"Aside from the fact that I don't think you can trust Spike with anything, he is SO whipped!" Xander scoffed as he adjusted a string of Christmas lights hung up across the room.
"Xander?"
"Yes dear?"
"Those should go higher," Anya directed from her spot in the kitchen, halfway across the big, open house.
"Sure thing."
Anya winked at Willow and the girls burst into giggles.
She's got me wrapped round her little finger. Both little fingers. And little toes, Spike thought as he watched her stretch out in the bed next to him.
"Okay, bottle blonde. Can't stay in bed forever. C'mon."
"Why not?" He whined halfheartedly. He didn't care the reason, long's he could talk her out of it.
"Movie night."
"Movie night," Spike suddenly remembered the Niblet. He closed is eyes tight and dashed a fist into the air in frustration. "Tha's right," he went on. "Dawn's boy toy."
"Don't say it like that!" Buffy stood to get dressed and tossed Spike his jeans.
"Why, Pet? 'M your boy toy," he said, smiling suggestively. "Only reason you keep me 'round's to make you look good." Added a wink at the end of his sentence to make sure she knew he was joking.
"And feel good," she added, affirming his earlier statement. He grabbed her still bare hip as she passed him on the way to the bathroom.
"Get back here, Birdy. Don't think my job's quite finished as yet," he growled, pulling her off balance and into his lap.
"Hear from Dawn?"
"Just got a text. They're on their way. Not there yet."
"So we've got time, then." He snaked his arm around her shoulder, gripping her gently by the back of her neck, and urging her to slide across the front seat of the car towards him.
Most times Buffy took an active role in their foreplay - and the act itself - but today... No, today she had needed the urging, the direction, a firm hand. And it wasn't always his bag, but he'd enjoyed it too.
They could go rounds with their words - he got as many good licks in as she did, most days - but when the lights dimmed, he'd defer to her lead, afraid she wouldn't have him any other way. And he was fine with it most of the time. But this was nice too. Like she needed him. Wasn't a side he got to see often.
Their mouths mingled leisurely for several moments before she let her head sink to his chest.
"What's wrong, Love?"
"What am I doing?" she whispered, barely audible against the fabric of his shirt.
He stiffened. How to approach that question? Knew since before the first time, she'd come to her senses sooner or later. Just... That hadn't felt like a goodbye kiss. Wasn't goodbye sex. Not a goodbye day. What did she mean, 'what was she doing'?
Must've felt him go tense, she raised her head up and cupped his cheek with her small hand. "I didn't mean us."
He held her tighter for a few seconds before lifting his hand to tug gently on one of her long blonde braids. "You're havin' a decent day with yours truly, bout to chaperone you lil' sis on a movie night. Nothin' else. It's just the day, Pet. World won't end just cause you enjoyed it."
Spike got outta the vehicle and gently tugged her out his car door after him. Buffy played with the hem of his coat sleeve all the way up the front walk. She was quiet. Pensive. He turned his key in the lock and she turned him to face her on the front steps before they went in.
"I think I like this quiet-birthday-thingy."
"That so?"
"Yeah."
"Liked spendin' it with me?"
"Mmhmm."
"Maybe make a tradition out of it," he smiled down at her, stepping closer. "Don't answer that. Just... this..."
The kiss had more heat and urgency behind it this time. She was game. He wondered absently how much time they'd got till Dawnie showed up with her junior-high date. He reached back and opened the door, guiding them both blindly inside.
As soon as the door swung all the way open and she heard two sets of feet clatter on the tiled floor of the entryway, Dawn reached for the house remote to bring up the lights.
Willow thought she heard something - a moan. No, Dawnie!, she thought. But even as she opened her mouth to say it, she was too late.
The room lit up like Christmas - quite literally with all the Christmas lights they'd hung - and the group merrily chorused "Happy Birthday, Buffy!" from their hiding places behind the couch and kitchen counter.
Pulling away from her lover's arms, Buffy turned toward the sound of her name. She was disoriented by the sudden brightness of the house and the noise of her friends. Her foot tangled in her long skirt and she lost her balance.
Stumbling foreword toward the floor length mirror hanging in the entry hall, she stepped hard onto her right foot trying to balance herself. Spikes hand shot around her waist in time to keep her from tumbling forward when her right knee gave way a second later.
"Ah, fuck!"
"Buffy!", "Are you alright?", "I'm really sorry, Buff," and "She's okay, no need for hands on, Captain Peroxide," spilled forth in a cacophony as the group made their way over to help right the startled target of their surprise attack.
"Ye-ep. Think I just hit the ground running… little harder than I shoulda, s'all."
"Let me help her." Xander made to move past the others before Spike cut him off.
"No. Harris. I've already got her."
"Would you two stop peeing all over me and let me give my bestie a hug?" Buffy shrugged out of Spike's hold and hobbled a few steps toward Willow before practically falling into her arms.
"Buffy, you know I don't like you like that?" Will chuckled, barely catching the falling blonde.
"What are you doing here? I just put you on a plane to Berkley like, literally last week."
"It's your birthday, silly. Can't miss another spectacular Buffy Birthday Bash." She led Buffy to a seat on the couch, which was now draped with a canopy of hanging Christmas lights. "You sure you're okay?"
"Will, when was the last time I was in the b-day partying mood? Oh yeah, before I had to shoot up insulin just for smelling birthday cake."
"We forewent the cake in favor of cupcakes. They're very chic right now." Anya, the only one of the group who hadn't rushed into the chaos a moment ago, emerged from the kitchen with a saucer baring one of the previously mentioned sweets, a candle softly glowing on top of it. "Also, it negates the 'how many candles is appropriate' question. See, because there's only room for one, not twenty-three." She smiled brightly as she passed the plate to Buffy.
"You're a good friend, Ahn – to not mention the age thing," Xander said sarcastically, smiling and wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
"I try."
"Thank you guys. I really… didn't see this coming." Buffy pushed herself to her feet, setting the cupcake down on the coffee table – candle still burning – and began making her rounds, hugging each of her friends in turn. She made it to Dawn and looked around the room in confusion momentarily. "Where's your date?"
"You mean my imaginary date?" Her sister's eyes widened at her confession. "Well, I had to make sure both you and Spike would come, didn't I? I thought, you know, since you both like to watch me like hawks, it would be the best way to trick you both into being here tonight instead of just one of you showing up."
"Oh thank God." Both Spike and Buffy breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief.
Buffy was about to step back to the couch, precariously trying to keep as much weight off of her right knee as possible, when suddenly Andrew leapt off of the coffee table where he had singed his whiskers on the birthday candle, and directly under Buffy's footpath.
She went down hard in a cry of pain.
"And then there was the year I went to the emergency room with a stress fracture on my birthday… Oh, wait. That was this year."
"What'd they call it?"
"Medial tibial plateau stress fracture."
They were curled up on the guest bed in the Big house – less stairs to navigate than the apartments. Harris and Anya had volunteered to take Dawn off of their hands for the weekend. She'd made a fuss, wanted to take care of her big sis. But she'd given in – for now. Promised to be back with a vengeance, smother Buffy with sisterly care or some such crap. Spike picked at a piece of fuzz stuck to one of the Velcro straps of her new knee brace.
"I can't believe I gotta wear this thing for six weeks."
"Better not go takin' it off early, neither. Dawn'll kill you dead."
"She'd nurse me back to health just to break my knee all over again."
"Damn straight. 'N I'd help her too."
Buffy tossed her pillow in his face.
"Oi! No roughhouse…" He tried not to look disappointed when he said it. "Le's just… finish the flick." He grabbed the remote and let the movie play as she settled in closer to him.
"I just don't… Understand why things just can't go back to normal… at the end of the half-hour… like on "The Brady Bunch" or something."
"Well, because Mr. Brady died of A.I.D.S. Things don't work out like that."
"I was really gonna be something by the age of twenty-three."
"Honey, all you have to be by the age of twenty-three... is yourself."
"I don't know who that is anymore."
"Well, I do. And we all love her. I love her. Uh… She breaks my heart again and again… but, uh… But I love her."
