A/N: Party time!

'HIP-HIP HOORAY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUFFY!'

The Summers family and friends shouted over the thudding club music in the background.

William stood beside Liam, enchanted by the vision of a smiling Buffy illuminated by the soft glow of the eighteen candles which decorated the cake. Watching as she bent forward gracefully, pulling her blonde locks to one side to blow out the flames, he was pulled out of his revelry as he registered a sigh from the man next to him. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned. The two men shared an understanding look of pride and wonder over the now, young woman, who had brought such light to their lives. Liam raised his glass.

'To family?'

'One like no other.'

Clink.


Seated away from the party at the emptiest spot of the bar she could find, Buffy stared down into the martini glass on the bar top in front of her. Eighteen. The last few months leading to her birthday and legally declared freedom had felt so painfully slow she had actually began to wonder if the day would ever come at all. Running the toothpick through salt which decorated the rim of the glass, she smiled recalling the image of her dad and William toasting when they thought she had been preoccupied candle-blowing. The two most important people in her life, they had always tried their hardest to make sure her childhood would be a fruitful one where she wouldn't be too pained by the absence of her mother. But that didn't mean that they completely overlooked her. The stories of her mother were amongst her most favourite of their family tales, and ones that she certainly appreciated hearing as she had grown. She hoped that she would be able to shape herself to take on some of her mother's characteristics, the generosity she had heard so much about. Generosity. That was something that ran in their little 'family'.

It was what had brought her dad and William together in the first place, or so she had gathered from the little she had been told.

When you're a big girl Buffy. When you're older, we'll tell you everything.

It had been the same gramophone reply every time she'd asked. She chuckled quietly to herself. Big girl. If I'm not big enough now, I'll never find out. And if they had told me before I'd gotten 'big' then maybe I wouldn't be getting constantly distracted thinking about those sky-blue eyes and cheekbones, that tendon which bulges when he clenches his jaw, and the way the muscles and veins in his forearms twist when he —

'You know… usually the guest of honour is supposed to out there…being honoured…by the guests.'

Shaken violently from her thoughts she exclaimed,

'Oh! Jeez Spike! You know I hate it when you do that! Urg!'

With a laugh he took a seat on the bar stool next to her.

'Sorry, love. Couldn't resist I guess, you looked so…far off, and people were wondering where you'd—did you just call me Spike? How the hell did you hear about that name?'

'Dad, actually. He slipped up a couple a times when we were talking about you. It's a cool name, very…punk rocker,' she added with a conclusive nod and cheeky grin.

'You don't know the half of it,' he exhaled with a tilt of his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile.

'And it matches the hair I suppose. You should think about adding some eye-liner with tha—hey! Cut it out!' she giggled as she dodged his playful punches.

'Well pet, I'm glad you can get such a good laugh out of it,' he said reaching over to pull her martini glass towards him. 'Don't mind do you?'

'Uh, yes I do actually! Get your own!' She tried slapping away the hand that grasped her wrist and held her at bay, giving up her struggle and swallowing hard as she watched his tongue dart out to sample her drink.

Giving her a smug look over the rim of the glass he replied, 'Is technically mine love, I did pay for it after all.'

Laughing Buffy leaned over to give a peck on a marble sculpted cheekbone,

'I know, thank you for tonight Will. I haven't thanked you yet.'

Shrugging he said, 'Hardly the best present though. You never told me what you wanted in terms of the conventional wrapped-with-ribbon present.'

'There's nothing, really. This is perfect.'

With a sigh of content, Buffy again began playing with the abandoned toothpick as her previous thoughts returned to her and her smile slowly faded.

'On second thought…but, no, no it still doesn't fall under the wrapped-with ribbon category.'

'You name it love, anything.'

Considering the blonde before her, she turned so she would be properly facing him.

'Your story.'

'Oh. Maybe not so anything.'

He'd hoped against all hope that she'd not raise the question about his past, dubious as it was. He wasn't even fully aware of the reason why he was so uncomfortable with revealing his past to her. He had already told her everything else about himself. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he fought against the thrall of her eyes, wide with frustration tinged with a touch of hope.

'What?! Oh Will, come on! You have got to be kidding me. My God, how much longer to I have to wait? Did you and dad actually plan to tell me ever?'

She jumped down from the stool in a huff and turned away, pouting, her irritation ebbing off her in waves.

'Buff- sweetheart. Wait. Look, I'll- I guess…there's no harm in telling you a bit. But, just for a while, let's just keep what I have to say between ourselves yeah?'

At this she turned back to him, brow furrowed before she fully registered his consent. Her delicate features lit up with a smile,

'You mean, like a secret? Sure!'