"Surprises in the Night."
AN at bottom. Again, to Will. Thank you for liking it. *hugs*
"I love you Buffy. I love you more than my eternity. Than my tarnished soul. I crave you
more than night, more than blood. You've been crawlin' round in my bloody system for too long. I
can't get you out. And I've tried. You're a vicious litt'el bitch sometimes, you know that? I'm
really gettin' sick of you just whoopin' up on me like some damn pinata. You and those bloody friggin'
Scooby's of yours. And really. Yeah, we shagged a bit or twice. Doesn't that warrant me SOME
kind of respect in your twisted litt'el head? I mean...."Spike glanced at himself in a mirror, seeing nothing but a reflection of clothing, and changed his
shirt.
"I'm not out for a bloody Christmas card, or an invitation to Sunday dinner, not that I'd
mind, of course. But really. Would a "Hello, Spike" be so pissing hard? As opposed to the
traditional "Hello, Xander. What's the blood sucking dead thing doing here?" Do you know what
I've done to... to try to EARN you? Pet... I haven't fed in over a month and a half. And not just
the damn chip. It's you.
"Hell... Buffy-luv. I BOUGHT something the other day. I BOUGHT it. I haven't
BOUGHTEN anything in over a hundred years. Mattress was bloody expensive, too. And I train
now. I know.... God, I know I failed you... I'm strong now. And... and.... I don't know what else,
Buffy... I just.. I just know I love you." Glaring, he dropped his pants, changed into a dark faded
denim pair.
"Such a sodding fool. Such a pissing idiot." He tossed on his duster. "Horrific. Why
don't you just stake yourself now??" Tore the duster off. Stared at himself in the mirror, or rather, DIDN'T stare at himself, and frowned.
"You, are William the Bloody for a reason." Sternly he nodded. "But you've completely
forgotten why it was so sodding important to kill people. You've forgotten why you avoided
falling in love. Idiot!"
Closing his eyes in despair, he covered his face with his hands. "Her soul is radiant, like
the sun I love, yet fear for it's shine and heat." He groaned. "Pissing moron. You'll never be
anything but an awful poetry spouting idiot. Get over it. Why the bleedin' hell do you love her
anyway!? She eats KETCHUP on her scrambled eggs... KETCHUP!" He shuddered, then
sneered at his reflection. "Spike the Bad indeed. You pussy."
A voice cleared it's throat from behind him. "What are you DOING, Spike?"
Spike thanked the powers that be for not letting him have organs or he would have thrown
up. "Buffy, what the bleedin' hell are you doing here?"
She tossed her head. Aughhhh.... He wanted to kill her and kiss her at the same time
when she did that. It drove him insane. He scoffed at himself. Bloody short trip. "Look," she
said, "I'd indulge you in pissing match at any other time, but Dawn is sick."
He was instantly alert. "What? Why the bloody hell didn't she call?? What's happened to
her?" At Buffy's silence he crossed to her, meaning her serious physical harm. "TELL ME,
BUFFY, I SWEAR I'LL-" He began to reach for her, but a pain gripped him, so intense, it fell him
to his knees. He cursed under his breath. Staggered to his feet. He swung his coat on while they
walked. "Let's go, luv."
On the way to Buffy's, they discussed Dawn's illness. "She's... got a fever," Buffy
stuttered.
"That's it?? A FEVER?!" He sighed, the night air so cold it fogged the breath he didn't
need. Something he could fix. Good. Mental powers came in handy at LEAST in one case.
"What else?" They headed up the stairs to Buffy's home.
"Ummm..... there's something else, but..." She opened the front door.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SPIKE!!!!!!!" Called the Scooby gang.
Spike laughed nervously, coming out the attack stance he had taken. "What the bloody-"
Dawn rushed up to hug him. "I did some snooping. I hope you don't mind... Are you
angry?" Her innocent's eyes searched his tarnished ones as he hugged her back.
"No, luv... No, Niblet... That's... it's very sweet. It really is. I thank you very much." He
was embarrassed. Touched. Scared. People only did things like this... When they wanted
something. He looked the Scoobies over carefully, holding Dawn close to him. All were smiling.
Even Red, who couldn't lie to save her lover. He lowered his gaze to the girl attached to him.
"Hey, Dawnie-luv."
She raised her eyes, smiled tentatively at him.
"You're not sick, though, then? I mean... You're well?" His eyes probed hers.
"Everywhere?"
"Fine. Hey! Dinner's gonna get cold. Let's go. Buff took long enough to go get you."
As they walked through to the dining room off the kitchen, Spike laughed. It was all his
favorite foods. From Lucky Charms cereal to the dishes he had enjoyed when he was a mortal. As
Dawn seated him, the smile fell from his face as he looked at his plate. A pineapple slice, with a
cherry in the middle. Only Buffy knew those were his greatest weaknesses. He looked at her,
smiled tentatively. She grinned back and began to eat with everyone else.
Dinner, a complete success, was followed in the living room, to Spike's delight, with presents.
"I'm... umm... a litt'el confused right now..." He said, eying all the people in a semi-circle
around him.
"So am I," Xander confided, smiling. "But... We've been thinking, and you've saved our
asses a lot. And we... I guess.... we appreciate that... And you've been a little psycho mean lately."
He let a nervous laugh out. "We were thinking of something to get you out of that. Dawn
suggested the party."
Dawn handed him a medium sized box with a very poor wrapping job. "Open mine first....
I um... can't wrap things very well... Sorry."
"No, luv... 'S wonderful. Thank you." A faint smile was tugging at his lips as he tore the
paper off, keeping his mind about him enough to stuff some of the paper in his pockets. he looked
at the cardboard box, sealed, puzzled. It had been a long while since he'd done the birthday thing.
He sneaked a look at Buffy.
She stood. "I'll get a knife so you can cut the tape. Just a minute." When she returned,
he thanked her with a grateful smile.
Opening the box, he smiled. There was another, smaller one amid the crumpled
newspaper. He opened it, again, slowly. He looked at Dawn, who bit her lip worriedly. He
looked at the contents of the box, and fought back his sudden urge to cry. "Thank you, Dawnie-
girl. I... It's wonderful. I love them." He drew the two pendants out of the box and looked them
over. They were magic. He felt it in his palm, pulsing. He frowned. One was magic... the other...
was a knot of some kind... Celtic, he was sure. "Dawn, what... What does this one mean?" He
dropped them over his head, the one he knew symbolizing safety close to his unbeating heart.
"It... It means friendship. Guardianship. Because you've been there so much, and I'm glad
you're my friend, Spike."
The Scoobs were very quiet, watching him. Ready to accept him, tentatively into this
circle, but at the same time, ready to kill him later if he said something hurtful now. Spike nodded.
"I'm very honored, Dawn." He stood, crossed to her, taking off one pendant, and bowing low at
Dawn's feet. "If only such ladies existed when I was mortal." He slipped it over her head. Now
Dawn felt the magic pulsing through her system, guarding her. Spike returned to his seat and
looked at the faces around him, smiling a completely arrogant, manufactured smile. "What now?"
Willow handed him a slim, wrapped package.
"I'm guessing... Not your Scooby biscuits?"
"Hair dye kit?" Xander piped up.
"For heaven's sake, you idiots," Anya threw in, "It's a book. Get a grip. Do they SELL
Scooby snacks?"
While Spike laughed heartily, he unwrapped his gift. He looked carefully at the book in
his hands. The leather binding was incredibly intricate with gold leaf titling and spine decorations.
"Great Expectations?"
"Yeah... Um... I just... It's my favorite book and sometimes, you pop into my mind when
I'm reading it. I thought you might like it."
"Thanks, Red. I like it. I might even like the words."
"Xander made the jus au duck," Buffy said suddenly.
"I have a present, too, Buffs."
"Oh. I.. Sorry, Xander."
"Yup. Here." He handed Spike two unwrapped drink mix boxes.
"Margaurita and daiquiri mixes?" He laughed. "Thanks, mate."
"There's a case of beer in the fridge, too," Anya piped up. "Your present from me is this."
She chanted quietly for a moment, then smiled. "You will have more strength when you need it,
but only call on it when it is direly needed. When you are in danger."
Spike nodded his head humbly. "Anya, you didn't have to, you don't like to do magic-"
"It seemed to be right, Spike. Shut up. Buffy's turn."
Buffy handed him a wrapped box, the kind that clothes are put in. Spike unwrapped it,
keeping the ribbon on it tucked safely in his hand. As he opened the box, a puzzled look crossed
his face, then a huge grin. In it lay a pair of boxers. Black. Silk. Under them was a box of Lucky
Charms. He looked at Buffy.
"Aren't these the kind of presents you don't hold up?"
"Do it, Spike! I wanna see!!" Dawn said.
"Is it embarrassing?" Xander asked.
"Only to stupid sods like you," Spike informed him.
"Show," Anya demanded. "Xander's blush is a very large turn on."
Affecting a shudder, he said, "For that alone, these should never be brought out."
Buffy laughed, for the first time in a long time. And meant it. Spike caught it, rolled the
sound over in his mind. Savored it. And stood.
"Our lovely hostess has seen fit to bestow upon me...." he drew his pause out, looking at
every face in the 'crowd'. "A pair of sexy..." Ignored Xander's groan. "Enticing..." Ignored Anya's
grin. "Black, silk boxers. Size large, you understand." He winked.
"In your dreams, Spike," Xander called. "What'd she really get you?"
Spike held the boxers in one hand, and the Lucky Charms in the other. "And Lucky
Charms."
As they all cleared the table off, Buffy and Spike stood in the kitchen, loading the
dishwasher. He slid a plate in and looked at her. "I've been looking for these for a while. The
boxers, I mean."
Buffy had the grace to look chagrined. "They, uh... By the time I got home, I had realized
that there was something in my coat sleeve. When I looked... it was those."
He grinned, his tongue curling under his teeth. "Mmm hmm. Buffy-luv?"
She shoved a bowl in the dishwasher. "What?"
"Those have been missing since the first time..."
She shot him a sharp look. "And?"
"Nothin'.... Hey, I need to use the privy. Be back." He tromped up the stairs to the
bathroom, looked left. Looked right.
... And walked into Buffy's room. It wasn't the first time he had been in it. He shook his
head ruefully. No. He knew every corner, every inch, every wall, every picture, every article of
clothing in here. Nights after she had died, after he had put Dawn to bed, he would sit in this room
and weep. Holding her pillow, a shirt, a slip. He had even cried into the same teddy bear he had
seen her cry into, over her mother, over Angel, over Riley. Oh yes. He was obsessed with her
even then, even when it was on the top of his to do list every day to kill her. When she was alive,
he would sit, watching her from the tree outside her bedroom window. He shook his head. He
wasn't here to reminisce. He was here to investigate.
His things were missing, and it was bloody well time he found out who was taking them.
If it was Buffy, he would revel in his private glory. If it was someone, or something else, he would
revel in their deaths. Then appropraite new things. Of theirs.
He searched the room sysytematically, putting everything back when he was done with it.
He was about to admit defeat after a five minute search. Then, her nightstand caught his eye. He
opened the drawer, lifted all the papers, and almost crowed. His earing. Ha! He KNEW he hadn't
misplaced it. Closing the drawer, he closed his eyes, sat on Buffy's bed. Feelings were coursing
through him too strongly, too fast for him today. It was all too much. He stood and glanced at her
bed. Frowned. Something was sticking out from between her matress and boxspring. He tugged
on it, rewarded with a cotton tee-shirt. Hers. Hmm. He stuck his hand between them again,
feeling a peice of paper. A grin split his face as he stared at it. It was filled. Front and back.
Sketches of his hands. His eyes. His mouth. Not all that well drawn, but definitely talent. He
debated stealing the paper, but put it back, and the shirt.
He jumped three feet in the air when he heard Buffy call up the stairs, asking if he fell in.
He cast a smirk in the direction of the stairs. Mouthy litt'el wench, wasn't she?
Suddenly, tears filled his eyes. God. They liked him. Maybe not accepted him
completely, but they liked him. Dawn... He smiled, and swiped at his nose. His little Niblet. She
loved him. Trusted him. And if Buffy didn't know it, she trusted him, too. How else could she fall
asleep in a vampire's arms? He walked out of her room, and into the bathroom. Opened the
window, crawled onto the roof, and closed the window again. Lighting a cigarette, he took a drag
off of it. Minutes passed, then, the Scoobs all congregated on the lawn. His little Niblet looked
especially irate.
"What did you SAY to him, Buffy!?" Hm.... Now THIS was an interesting turn of events,
wasn't it? Glad of his heightened hearing, he listened.
"Nothing!" Buffy said defensively. "We were loading the dishwasher, and he said he had
to use the bathroom! He wasn't in there!"
The Scoobs silently watched as the sisters battled it out.
"Yeah RIGHT, Buffy! Did you hurt his feelings? It's his BIRTHDAY! This is the first
party he's had just for him in forever, I'm sure! Did you ruin it? Do you how HARD I worked on
this??"
"You're not the only one, Dawn!" Buffy shot back. "I cooked. I cleaned, I went
shopping, I picked him up. I HELPED TOO!"
"Go ahead, Buffy! Undermine what I did. What am I, after all? Just the key!"
Spike lept to the ready. This wasn't funny anymore. From here, even, he could see Buffy
blanch.
"Shut up, Dawn. You're not a key. You're my baby sister. You're my baby. I love you."
She watched as Dawn dissolved into tears. She pulled her against her. The Scoobs formed a circle
around the two, lending silent support. "What happened? Dawnie... For me to help, you have to
let me know what happened."
"I heard you talking!" She yelled, sobbing. "You have to protect the key. You're all
taking shifts watching me! I don't like it!"
He could feel the pain in Buffy's voice as she stroked Dawn's head. "Oh, hunni. No. No.
We're not watching the key. We're watching out for you. You're the glue in this mucked up
family, Dawn. Your smile, your thoughtfulness. We love you too much for you to ever be hurt. I
won't let anything happen to you, that's why we watch. We don't give a damn about the key. Just
you."
At Dawn's snuffly smile, Buffy hugged her tight, saying, "Who else would think to give a
vampire a birthday party? Only you, Dawnie, because you put other people in front of yourself.
Now. Come on. I think Spike ran away."
The object of discussion strolled out the front door, looking casual. "Where'd everyone
go? Thought we all got to wear cute hats an' such."
Dawn frowned at him sternly. "We were looking for you. Where did you go?"
He gave her an incredibly believable innocent, confused smile. "Well, went to the loo,
then I just went 'round back to have a smoke."
Morning's first light was begining to paint the sky. Spike saw it, and smiled. He loved
watching the sunrise. But he didn't like to be in a place to get fried by it. "Um... I... I really
enjoyed the party... Thank you. For all the work, and... stuff." Bloody eloquent chap, eh? he
derided himself. "But... um.. unless this was a g'bye feast, I have to leave." He gestured to the sky,
and saw all of them look suprised at it's rising.
Buffy wrapped her coat around herself tighter, then offered, "I'll help you carry your stuff
back to the crypt, Spike. Come on." She walked into the house, leaving him to say good night to
the Scoobies and giving Dawn a kiss on the cheek.
"Niblet... I... Thank you. I... just..." He looked seriously at her, saw understanding in her
eyes. "Thank you."
She stood on her toes, kissed him on the cheek. "Happy birthday, Spike." She seemed to
be holding something in. He chucked her under her chin.
"What, luv?"
"I love you. Not like... like... in love with you. But, you're like... acting like my dad or, or
surrogate brother... and... And I love you."
"Oh, Li'l Bit. I love you, too. I do." He touched her forehead with his cool lips, then
went inside to help round up his gifts.
As they walked into his crypt, the sun was just peeking from behind low clouds. It
promised to be a cold day, though. Winter was on it's way to the Hellmouth. Spike took the gifts
out of Buffy's arms and dropped them on a chair.
Silently, Buffy pulled the bottom package off the chair; handed it to him.
He looked puzzled. "Buffy, luv, I already opened these."
"No, Spike, you didn't. Open it."
On closer inspection, he hadn't opened it, but neither was it wrapped. It was a large, deep
clothes box. They sat on his bed, the box between them. Slitting the tape holding the sides
together, he pulled the top off the box.
"Holy shit, Buffy! This is-"
"Your real birthday present," she interuppted, smiling shyly.
He lifted it out of the box. It was a duster, identical to the one he was wearing, with a
small but relevant addition. It had a liner. A warm, almost furry liner. Blinded by tears he looked
down, willing them back. "I don't know what to say."
"Why don't you try it on?"
He stood, shedding his older, lighter coat, and slowly pulled on his new one. It felt so
good. So warm. It was so... He caught sight of the label as he was pulling it on. Expensive. He
yanked it off. "No good."
"What!? Spike, what's wrong with it?"
"I don't want it, Slayer. I don't need it." He was almost frantic. "Dawn... She needs a
new coat, and boots. And... and sweaters. It's getting cold. She's gonna need those things. It's
too bloody expensive. And the phone, and the house, and... utilities... and college. You need to
save money for Dawn for college. You have to Buffy. I can't steal those things."
She sat, silently. He had changed so much. So much since two years ago, when he had
come to slay the slayer. He was kind. He loved Dawn more than her father did. Cared for people.
Even Xander.
"Spike...?"
He sighed. "What?" He was bleeding exasperated. He wanted the damn coat. He loved it.
Made him want to cry. What WAS it today with him and the bleeding tears? But damn it! Dawn
came first.
"When my mom... When my mom... passed. Her trust for us was being held. No one, not
even the bank could touch it. It came out yesterday. I have enough, Spike, to pay off the house,
and set aside for Dawn. With a small job at the campus, we'll be fine. We'll have enough money.
We're not broke. Take the coat."
"If an emergency comes up..." he tried to argue.
"Spike! She left us a million dollars each."
He wiped a hand across his mouth. "Bloody hell. Buffy, I-"
"Take the coat."
He held it in his arms, sat on his bed. Looked mulish. Stubborn.
Buffy knelt beside him on the bed. Kissed him softly. A soft smile curved his lips as he
kissed her back, let her lean him back on the bed. When he was totally reclined, Buffy kissing
down his neck, she sniffed him once, then sat up.
"You always smell so nice, Spike. Happy birthday." She took a deep breath, walking to
the exit of the crypt. "And there's nothing wrong with having ketchup on your scrambled eggs."
As she walked out into the daylight, she heard Spike's groan, then laughed, anticipating
the next time they would go patrolling.
Fini, ou non fini?
Hey, Tequila Sunrise here. Um... this is the end. I was working on "Reality or Truth" at
the same time as this, so... but this is the one I finished first. Should I continue this thing or let it
lie? Anyway, thank you so much for reading. And um... heh heh... I told Santa I want James for
Christmas. He said that since I was a bad girl this year, no. *cries* Well, maybe next year. Man,
isn't he hot? *pant pant* I'd love to hear him play his music. He looks smart. Sorry. Babbling.
OH! I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING!!!!! NOTHING! If I did, don't you think I'd be using a
different computer? And if I did, wouldn't I be making Buffy and Spike stay together forever on
the show!? YES YES YES! I WOULD!!!!! ok... Time to go.
Tequila Sunrise
AN at bottom. Again, to Will. Thank you for liking it. *hugs*
"I love you Buffy. I love you more than my eternity. Than my tarnished soul. I crave you
more than night, more than blood. You've been crawlin' round in my bloody system for too long. I
can't get you out. And I've tried. You're a vicious litt'el bitch sometimes, you know that? I'm
really gettin' sick of you just whoopin' up on me like some damn pinata. You and those bloody friggin'
Scooby's of yours. And really. Yeah, we shagged a bit or twice. Doesn't that warrant me SOME
kind of respect in your twisted litt'el head? I mean...."Spike glanced at himself in a mirror, seeing nothing but a reflection of clothing, and changed his
shirt.
"I'm not out for a bloody Christmas card, or an invitation to Sunday dinner, not that I'd
mind, of course. But really. Would a "Hello, Spike" be so pissing hard? As opposed to the
traditional "Hello, Xander. What's the blood sucking dead thing doing here?" Do you know what
I've done to... to try to EARN you? Pet... I haven't fed in over a month and a half. And not just
the damn chip. It's you.
"Hell... Buffy-luv. I BOUGHT something the other day. I BOUGHT it. I haven't
BOUGHTEN anything in over a hundred years. Mattress was bloody expensive, too. And I train
now. I know.... God, I know I failed you... I'm strong now. And... and.... I don't know what else,
Buffy... I just.. I just know I love you." Glaring, he dropped his pants, changed into a dark faded
denim pair.
"Such a sodding fool. Such a pissing idiot." He tossed on his duster. "Horrific. Why
don't you just stake yourself now??" Tore the duster off. Stared at himself in the mirror, or rather, DIDN'T stare at himself, and frowned.
"You, are William the Bloody for a reason." Sternly he nodded. "But you've completely
forgotten why it was so sodding important to kill people. You've forgotten why you avoided
falling in love. Idiot!"
Closing his eyes in despair, he covered his face with his hands. "Her soul is radiant, like
the sun I love, yet fear for it's shine and heat." He groaned. "Pissing moron. You'll never be
anything but an awful poetry spouting idiot. Get over it. Why the bleedin' hell do you love her
anyway!? She eats KETCHUP on her scrambled eggs... KETCHUP!" He shuddered, then
sneered at his reflection. "Spike the Bad indeed. You pussy."
A voice cleared it's throat from behind him. "What are you DOING, Spike?"
Spike thanked the powers that be for not letting him have organs or he would have thrown
up. "Buffy, what the bleedin' hell are you doing here?"
She tossed her head. Aughhhh.... He wanted to kill her and kiss her at the same time
when she did that. It drove him insane. He scoffed at himself. Bloody short trip. "Look," she
said, "I'd indulge you in pissing match at any other time, but Dawn is sick."
He was instantly alert. "What? Why the bloody hell didn't she call?? What's happened to
her?" At Buffy's silence he crossed to her, meaning her serious physical harm. "TELL ME,
BUFFY, I SWEAR I'LL-" He began to reach for her, but a pain gripped him, so intense, it fell him
to his knees. He cursed under his breath. Staggered to his feet. He swung his coat on while they
walked. "Let's go, luv."
On the way to Buffy's, they discussed Dawn's illness. "She's... got a fever," Buffy
stuttered.
"That's it?? A FEVER?!" He sighed, the night air so cold it fogged the breath he didn't
need. Something he could fix. Good. Mental powers came in handy at LEAST in one case.
"What else?" They headed up the stairs to Buffy's home.
"Ummm..... there's something else, but..." She opened the front door.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SPIKE!!!!!!!" Called the Scooby gang.
Spike laughed nervously, coming out the attack stance he had taken. "What the bloody-"
Dawn rushed up to hug him. "I did some snooping. I hope you don't mind... Are you
angry?" Her innocent's eyes searched his tarnished ones as he hugged her back.
"No, luv... No, Niblet... That's... it's very sweet. It really is. I thank you very much." He
was embarrassed. Touched. Scared. People only did things like this... When they wanted
something. He looked the Scoobies over carefully, holding Dawn close to him. All were smiling.
Even Red, who couldn't lie to save her lover. He lowered his gaze to the girl attached to him.
"Hey, Dawnie-luv."
She raised her eyes, smiled tentatively at him.
"You're not sick, though, then? I mean... You're well?" His eyes probed hers.
"Everywhere?"
"Fine. Hey! Dinner's gonna get cold. Let's go. Buff took long enough to go get you."
As they walked through to the dining room off the kitchen, Spike laughed. It was all his
favorite foods. From Lucky Charms cereal to the dishes he had enjoyed when he was a mortal. As
Dawn seated him, the smile fell from his face as he looked at his plate. A pineapple slice, with a
cherry in the middle. Only Buffy knew those were his greatest weaknesses. He looked at her,
smiled tentatively. She grinned back and began to eat with everyone else.
Dinner, a complete success, was followed in the living room, to Spike's delight, with presents.
"I'm... umm... a litt'el confused right now..." He said, eying all the people in a semi-circle
around him.
"So am I," Xander confided, smiling. "But... We've been thinking, and you've saved our
asses a lot. And we... I guess.... we appreciate that... And you've been a little psycho mean lately."
He let a nervous laugh out. "We were thinking of something to get you out of that. Dawn
suggested the party."
Dawn handed him a medium sized box with a very poor wrapping job. "Open mine first....
I um... can't wrap things very well... Sorry."
"No, luv... 'S wonderful. Thank you." A faint smile was tugging at his lips as he tore the
paper off, keeping his mind about him enough to stuff some of the paper in his pockets. he looked
at the cardboard box, sealed, puzzled. It had been a long while since he'd done the birthday thing.
He sneaked a look at Buffy.
She stood. "I'll get a knife so you can cut the tape. Just a minute." When she returned,
he thanked her with a grateful smile.
Opening the box, he smiled. There was another, smaller one amid the crumpled
newspaper. He opened it, again, slowly. He looked at Dawn, who bit her lip worriedly. He
looked at the contents of the box, and fought back his sudden urge to cry. "Thank you, Dawnie-
girl. I... It's wonderful. I love them." He drew the two pendants out of the box and looked them
over. They were magic. He felt it in his palm, pulsing. He frowned. One was magic... the other...
was a knot of some kind... Celtic, he was sure. "Dawn, what... What does this one mean?" He
dropped them over his head, the one he knew symbolizing safety close to his unbeating heart.
"It... It means friendship. Guardianship. Because you've been there so much, and I'm glad
you're my friend, Spike."
The Scoobs were very quiet, watching him. Ready to accept him, tentatively into this
circle, but at the same time, ready to kill him later if he said something hurtful now. Spike nodded.
"I'm very honored, Dawn." He stood, crossed to her, taking off one pendant, and bowing low at
Dawn's feet. "If only such ladies existed when I was mortal." He slipped it over her head. Now
Dawn felt the magic pulsing through her system, guarding her. Spike returned to his seat and
looked at the faces around him, smiling a completely arrogant, manufactured smile. "What now?"
Willow handed him a slim, wrapped package.
"I'm guessing... Not your Scooby biscuits?"
"Hair dye kit?" Xander piped up.
"For heaven's sake, you idiots," Anya threw in, "It's a book. Get a grip. Do they SELL
Scooby snacks?"
While Spike laughed heartily, he unwrapped his gift. He looked carefully at the book in
his hands. The leather binding was incredibly intricate with gold leaf titling and spine decorations.
"Great Expectations?"
"Yeah... Um... I just... It's my favorite book and sometimes, you pop into my mind when
I'm reading it. I thought you might like it."
"Thanks, Red. I like it. I might even like the words."
"Xander made the jus au duck," Buffy said suddenly.
"I have a present, too, Buffs."
"Oh. I.. Sorry, Xander."
"Yup. Here." He handed Spike two unwrapped drink mix boxes.
"Margaurita and daiquiri mixes?" He laughed. "Thanks, mate."
"There's a case of beer in the fridge, too," Anya piped up. "Your present from me is this."
She chanted quietly for a moment, then smiled. "You will have more strength when you need it,
but only call on it when it is direly needed. When you are in danger."
Spike nodded his head humbly. "Anya, you didn't have to, you don't like to do magic-"
"It seemed to be right, Spike. Shut up. Buffy's turn."
Buffy handed him a wrapped box, the kind that clothes are put in. Spike unwrapped it,
keeping the ribbon on it tucked safely in his hand. As he opened the box, a puzzled look crossed
his face, then a huge grin. In it lay a pair of boxers. Black. Silk. Under them was a box of Lucky
Charms. He looked at Buffy.
"Aren't these the kind of presents you don't hold up?"
"Do it, Spike! I wanna see!!" Dawn said.
"Is it embarrassing?" Xander asked.
"Only to stupid sods like you," Spike informed him.
"Show," Anya demanded. "Xander's blush is a very large turn on."
Affecting a shudder, he said, "For that alone, these should never be brought out."
Buffy laughed, for the first time in a long time. And meant it. Spike caught it, rolled the
sound over in his mind. Savored it. And stood.
"Our lovely hostess has seen fit to bestow upon me...." he drew his pause out, looking at
every face in the 'crowd'. "A pair of sexy..." Ignored Xander's groan. "Enticing..." Ignored Anya's
grin. "Black, silk boxers. Size large, you understand." He winked.
"In your dreams, Spike," Xander called. "What'd she really get you?"
Spike held the boxers in one hand, and the Lucky Charms in the other. "And Lucky
Charms."
As they all cleared the table off, Buffy and Spike stood in the kitchen, loading the
dishwasher. He slid a plate in and looked at her. "I've been looking for these for a while. The
boxers, I mean."
Buffy had the grace to look chagrined. "They, uh... By the time I got home, I had realized
that there was something in my coat sleeve. When I looked... it was those."
He grinned, his tongue curling under his teeth. "Mmm hmm. Buffy-luv?"
She shoved a bowl in the dishwasher. "What?"
"Those have been missing since the first time..."
She shot him a sharp look. "And?"
"Nothin'.... Hey, I need to use the privy. Be back." He tromped up the stairs to the
bathroom, looked left. Looked right.
... And walked into Buffy's room. It wasn't the first time he had been in it. He shook his
head ruefully. No. He knew every corner, every inch, every wall, every picture, every article of
clothing in here. Nights after she had died, after he had put Dawn to bed, he would sit in this room
and weep. Holding her pillow, a shirt, a slip. He had even cried into the same teddy bear he had
seen her cry into, over her mother, over Angel, over Riley. Oh yes. He was obsessed with her
even then, even when it was on the top of his to do list every day to kill her. When she was alive,
he would sit, watching her from the tree outside her bedroom window. He shook his head. He
wasn't here to reminisce. He was here to investigate.
His things were missing, and it was bloody well time he found out who was taking them.
If it was Buffy, he would revel in his private glory. If it was someone, or something else, he would
revel in their deaths. Then appropraite new things. Of theirs.
He searched the room sysytematically, putting everything back when he was done with it.
He was about to admit defeat after a five minute search. Then, her nightstand caught his eye. He
opened the drawer, lifted all the papers, and almost crowed. His earing. Ha! He KNEW he hadn't
misplaced it. Closing the drawer, he closed his eyes, sat on Buffy's bed. Feelings were coursing
through him too strongly, too fast for him today. It was all too much. He stood and glanced at her
bed. Frowned. Something was sticking out from between her matress and boxspring. He tugged
on it, rewarded with a cotton tee-shirt. Hers. Hmm. He stuck his hand between them again,
feeling a peice of paper. A grin split his face as he stared at it. It was filled. Front and back.
Sketches of his hands. His eyes. His mouth. Not all that well drawn, but definitely talent. He
debated stealing the paper, but put it back, and the shirt.
He jumped three feet in the air when he heard Buffy call up the stairs, asking if he fell in.
He cast a smirk in the direction of the stairs. Mouthy litt'el wench, wasn't she?
Suddenly, tears filled his eyes. God. They liked him. Maybe not accepted him
completely, but they liked him. Dawn... He smiled, and swiped at his nose. His little Niblet. She
loved him. Trusted him. And if Buffy didn't know it, she trusted him, too. How else could she fall
asleep in a vampire's arms? He walked out of her room, and into the bathroom. Opened the
window, crawled onto the roof, and closed the window again. Lighting a cigarette, he took a drag
off of it. Minutes passed, then, the Scoobs all congregated on the lawn. His little Niblet looked
especially irate.
"What did you SAY to him, Buffy!?" Hm.... Now THIS was an interesting turn of events,
wasn't it? Glad of his heightened hearing, he listened.
"Nothing!" Buffy said defensively. "We were loading the dishwasher, and he said he had
to use the bathroom! He wasn't in there!"
The Scoobs silently watched as the sisters battled it out.
"Yeah RIGHT, Buffy! Did you hurt his feelings? It's his BIRTHDAY! This is the first
party he's had just for him in forever, I'm sure! Did you ruin it? Do you how HARD I worked on
this??"
"You're not the only one, Dawn!" Buffy shot back. "I cooked. I cleaned, I went
shopping, I picked him up. I HELPED TOO!"
"Go ahead, Buffy! Undermine what I did. What am I, after all? Just the key!"
Spike lept to the ready. This wasn't funny anymore. From here, even, he could see Buffy
blanch.
"Shut up, Dawn. You're not a key. You're my baby sister. You're my baby. I love you."
She watched as Dawn dissolved into tears. She pulled her against her. The Scoobs formed a circle
around the two, lending silent support. "What happened? Dawnie... For me to help, you have to
let me know what happened."
"I heard you talking!" She yelled, sobbing. "You have to protect the key. You're all
taking shifts watching me! I don't like it!"
He could feel the pain in Buffy's voice as she stroked Dawn's head. "Oh, hunni. No. No.
We're not watching the key. We're watching out for you. You're the glue in this mucked up
family, Dawn. Your smile, your thoughtfulness. We love you too much for you to ever be hurt. I
won't let anything happen to you, that's why we watch. We don't give a damn about the key. Just
you."
At Dawn's snuffly smile, Buffy hugged her tight, saying, "Who else would think to give a
vampire a birthday party? Only you, Dawnie, because you put other people in front of yourself.
Now. Come on. I think Spike ran away."
The object of discussion strolled out the front door, looking casual. "Where'd everyone
go? Thought we all got to wear cute hats an' such."
Dawn frowned at him sternly. "We were looking for you. Where did you go?"
He gave her an incredibly believable innocent, confused smile. "Well, went to the loo,
then I just went 'round back to have a smoke."
Morning's first light was begining to paint the sky. Spike saw it, and smiled. He loved
watching the sunrise. But he didn't like to be in a place to get fried by it. "Um... I... I really
enjoyed the party... Thank you. For all the work, and... stuff." Bloody eloquent chap, eh? he
derided himself. "But... um.. unless this was a g'bye feast, I have to leave." He gestured to the sky,
and saw all of them look suprised at it's rising.
Buffy wrapped her coat around herself tighter, then offered, "I'll help you carry your stuff
back to the crypt, Spike. Come on." She walked into the house, leaving him to say good night to
the Scoobies and giving Dawn a kiss on the cheek.
"Niblet... I... Thank you. I... just..." He looked seriously at her, saw understanding in her
eyes. "Thank you."
She stood on her toes, kissed him on the cheek. "Happy birthday, Spike." She seemed to
be holding something in. He chucked her under her chin.
"What, luv?"
"I love you. Not like... like... in love with you. But, you're like... acting like my dad or, or
surrogate brother... and... And I love you."
"Oh, Li'l Bit. I love you, too. I do." He touched her forehead with his cool lips, then
went inside to help round up his gifts.
As they walked into his crypt, the sun was just peeking from behind low clouds. It
promised to be a cold day, though. Winter was on it's way to the Hellmouth. Spike took the gifts
out of Buffy's arms and dropped them on a chair.
Silently, Buffy pulled the bottom package off the chair; handed it to him.
He looked puzzled. "Buffy, luv, I already opened these."
"No, Spike, you didn't. Open it."
On closer inspection, he hadn't opened it, but neither was it wrapped. It was a large, deep
clothes box. They sat on his bed, the box between them. Slitting the tape holding the sides
together, he pulled the top off the box.
"Holy shit, Buffy! This is-"
"Your real birthday present," she interuppted, smiling shyly.
He lifted it out of the box. It was a duster, identical to the one he was wearing, with a
small but relevant addition. It had a liner. A warm, almost furry liner. Blinded by tears he looked
down, willing them back. "I don't know what to say."
"Why don't you try it on?"
He stood, shedding his older, lighter coat, and slowly pulled on his new one. It felt so
good. So warm. It was so... He caught sight of the label as he was pulling it on. Expensive. He
yanked it off. "No good."
"What!? Spike, what's wrong with it?"
"I don't want it, Slayer. I don't need it." He was almost frantic. "Dawn... She needs a
new coat, and boots. And... and sweaters. It's getting cold. She's gonna need those things. It's
too bloody expensive. And the phone, and the house, and... utilities... and college. You need to
save money for Dawn for college. You have to Buffy. I can't steal those things."
She sat, silently. He had changed so much. So much since two years ago, when he had
come to slay the slayer. He was kind. He loved Dawn more than her father did. Cared for people.
Even Xander.
"Spike...?"
He sighed. "What?" He was bleeding exasperated. He wanted the damn coat. He loved it.
Made him want to cry. What WAS it today with him and the bleeding tears? But damn it! Dawn
came first.
"When my mom... When my mom... passed. Her trust for us was being held. No one, not
even the bank could touch it. It came out yesterday. I have enough, Spike, to pay off the house,
and set aside for Dawn. With a small job at the campus, we'll be fine. We'll have enough money.
We're not broke. Take the coat."
"If an emergency comes up..." he tried to argue.
"Spike! She left us a million dollars each."
He wiped a hand across his mouth. "Bloody hell. Buffy, I-"
"Take the coat."
He held it in his arms, sat on his bed. Looked mulish. Stubborn.
Buffy knelt beside him on the bed. Kissed him softly. A soft smile curved his lips as he
kissed her back, let her lean him back on the bed. When he was totally reclined, Buffy kissing
down his neck, she sniffed him once, then sat up.
"You always smell so nice, Spike. Happy birthday." She took a deep breath, walking to
the exit of the crypt. "And there's nothing wrong with having ketchup on your scrambled eggs."
As she walked out into the daylight, she heard Spike's groan, then laughed, anticipating
the next time they would go patrolling.
Fini, ou non fini?
Hey, Tequila Sunrise here. Um... this is the end. I was working on "Reality or Truth" at
the same time as this, so... but this is the one I finished first. Should I continue this thing or let it
lie? Anyway, thank you so much for reading. And um... heh heh... I told Santa I want James for
Christmas. He said that since I was a bad girl this year, no. *cries* Well, maybe next year. Man,
isn't he hot? *pant pant* I'd love to hear him play his music. He looks smart. Sorry. Babbling.
OH! I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING!!!!! NOTHING! If I did, don't you think I'd be using a
different computer? And if I did, wouldn't I be making Buffy and Spike stay together forever on
the show!? YES YES YES! I WOULD!!!!! ok... Time to go.
Tequila Sunrise