Buffy lets herself in at just gone midnight. There's a large gash down her jacket and a few bruises decorate her jaw. Spike lifts his head up from a book that he's reading on the couch.
"Bloody hell, what happened to you?"
"Ugh. Demon came out of the sword again, tore the magic shop apart, then went back into the sword and I broke it in half. Anya's all flip outty about the mess. Which was scarier than the demon." She bends backwards cracking her back, and then feels the deep tear running down the side of jacket. She sighs deeply, shrugging it off and letting it drop, leaving it where it falls. "You're weirdly calm. Would've thought you'd be Mr Grouchy about missing the fight."
Spike shrugs, dog-earing the book and dumping it on the coffee table, "been feeling pretty satisfied of late. Not too pent up right now," he pulls her down onto the couch, pulling her into a kiss, stroking the bruises along her jaw. She pulls back, licking her lip.
"Why do you taste like sugar?"
"Bitesize bought fudge."
"There's fudge? Give it!"
"No chance, she got it for me. I'm not sharing."
"That's so unfair, it's my birthday, why do you get fudge and I don't?"
"Cus she likes me more than you," he chuckles. She rolls her eyes, and gets up from the couch.
"You're the worst boyfriend."
"Ooooh- I'm what now?"
Buffy turns scarlet, "No, no. Nononono-"
"Too late."
"No."
"Too late."
"Drop it."
"Not bleedin' likely."
He laughs as she walks away from him into the kitchen. He follows her in, grabbing a cigarette from the packet on the table, while she pulls leftovers from the fridge.
"You're cute when you blush." He grins, lighting the cigarette.
"I'm also cute when I throw annoying assholes through kitchen windows." She twirls a fork through cold spaghetti and takes a bite. She twirls another forkful, then keeps twirling, looking like she wants to say something. She takes a breath. "You seem... like you're doing better?" She doesn't meet his eye quite.
He blows out a plume of smoke, "so do you."
"I mean, no scary stuff for a few days?"
"Not really. Still feel a bit fractured but..."
"... But what?"
He takes another drag.
"Feels like I'm standing on more solid ground now. We are I mean."
"You and you?"
"You and me."
"Mm." She smiles at him, holding her breath. "What does it feel like? The... fractured-ness?"
He sighs. "It's loud. Everyone's... talking. Shouting. Could do without it." There's a look in his eyes that betrays that's not all of the truth.
It hurts. But he won't tell me how much it hurts.
"Does anything help? Is there anything I can.. Is there something-"
"You help. Being around you. Seems to shut them up."
She finishes her food and leaves the bowl in the sink. She moves to stand in front of him, taking the cigarette out of his hand and stubbing it out into the cigarette mug. She moves her hands to each side of his face, touching sharp cheekbones, jaw, fingers trailing to his neck. He rests his hands on her hips, a thumb trailing up and underneath her top, touching warm skin. Just that, a little piece of her, beating underneath a little piece of him, and his mind goes silent.
Buffy rests her hands on his chest.
"Change?" She whispers.
He leans his forehead against hers while his face changes. There's a soft wet sucking sound of bone moving through muscle. She keeps stroking his neck, down his back, pulling him in closer. He wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her tighter against him.
She lays her head on his shoulder. "I love you."
"I love you, Buffy."
She pulls back and kisses him carefully, lips touching sharp teeth. Pale yellow eyes stare back at hers. "Quieter?"
"Completely."
He changes his face back to human features, pulling her back into an embrace, head against head.
"Sweet girl. My girl."
"Bed?"
"Yes."
He follows her up the stairs. As he passes the mirror that's on the wall opposite her bedroom he stops, turning his head rapidly. Nothing stares back at him.
"You ok?" Buffy asks from the doorway of her room.
"Yeah... just thought I saw something is all," he shrugs, "just skittish that I'm going to start seein' things again."
"Are you? Seeing things?"
"No, it's fine. I'm fine, luv."
He moves to follow her in to the room but she doesn't budge from the doorway, blocking his path.
"Will you tell me if you do?"
"I'm fine, Buffy. Really."
She nods, and turns into the bedroom.
He castes another quick look at the mirror before following her in.
"Uh guys, how many people are we feeding?"
Buffy stands in the kitchen, staring at trays upon trays of food on every surface.
"At least a small army," says Xander, handing another cracker to Anya who's constructing a small sculpture of cheese and vegetables on each one with vigour.
"The army couldn't make it, it's just, you know, the gang and a couple of people from Tara's classes."
"Don't worry about it, we're all over the new friend thing." Anya looks like she's going to bubble over.
"What new friend thing?" Buffy eyes Xander. He squirms, handing another cracker to Anya.
"We invited someone for you."
"Ahn-"
"A guy." she grins, arranging more vegetables on a cracker.
"Don't worry, it's not a setup." Xander casts a pleading eye at Anya, but it doesn't slow her down.
"Right. No. Just an attractive single man, with whom we hope you find much in common. And if you happen to form a romantic relationship leading to babies and many double dates with us so we have someone else to talk to, yay!"
"So it's a set up." Buffy rolls her eyes.
Xander focusses on the cracker plate like it's a lifeboat and he's adrift at sea.
"I assume this was an act of kindness," she says. "That'll help with the not throttling."
Great. That's just what I need. One blind date, and one lovedrunk vampire with very little restraint. I'm never going to have a normal birthday. Not even once.
Xander clears his throat.
"I'm ah- gonna start taking these trays through. People will be arriving soon."
He slinks out carrying a tray.
"Evenin' all." Spike walks into the kitchen, a finger trailing an unseen line on the back of Buffy's arm as he makes his way to the fridge. He pulls a bag of blood out and pours it into his mug, setting it in the microwave.
He eyes Anya who's still stacking neverending crackers onto a tray. "What's with the grin?"
She fizzes visibly.
"Buffy's got a date."
Spike rasies an eyebrow.
"That right?"
"He's cute, guy from Xander's contruction job. Nice hair." She beams at Buffy who's frozen to the spot.
"Hey Buffy," Willow edges into the kitchen, gazing in shock at the millions of trays. She pours herself a drink from one of the jugs, and sips from it, hands shaking slightly. She fusses with the hem of her blouse, tugging it into place, smoothing down the fabric over and over.
There's a ring at the doorbell, and somehow Anya's grin widens. Willow's knuckles whiten around her glass.
Buffy shoots a look at Spike.
Please play nice.
He smirks, running his tongue over an incisor before taking the blood out of the microwave.
Please.
He nods slightly, and Buffy relaxes a tad.
"What the hell are you doing here, Evil Dead?"
They all turn. Xander's standing in the entrance to the kitchen, eyes shooting full daggers in Spike's direction.
Spike casts a rolling lazy gaze over Richard who stands uncomfortably in the doorway behind Xander, tousled blonde hair looking like it's been tweased into place for hours.
"Came for the food."
"And as charming as your company is, maybe you could find somewhere else to make people lose their appetites. Run along."
"Now, now. All this bickering. People will say we're in love." Spike sneers.
"I think I speak for everyone when I say there is absolutely no love lost here, Spike. Feel free to let the door hit you on the way out."
"I'm just getting comfy. Friend."
"Ok, you guys," Willow looked like an exasperated babysitter, "how about just a little civility? Frosty or- or otherwise?"
"Guess you'd know all about civility, wouldn't you," Xander pushes, "not like you can do much else with that chip in your head. Cut me deeply with a menacing glower."
"Xander." Buffy's warning note humming across the aggression. Spike smiles, enjoying watching him being put in his place.
She's got him good and whipped.
They stand squaring off from opposite sides of the kitchen.
"Buffy, Richard was wondering where's the best place to park his car."
"Oh, that's easy, it's just-"
"Buffy will show you." He shoves Richard towards her, smiling coldly back at Spike. Buffy casts a glance back at Spike who raises an eyebrow over the rim of his mug.
From the hallway Richard and Buffy's voices echo back to the kitchen. "Chip in his head?" "It's...uh... an expression."
"Stupid git." Spike grouches into his mug of blood.
There's another ring at the doorbell and Tara's voice floats through the house. Willow re-straightens her blouse. She dumps her glass, smoothing her blouse down again, tucking and retucking her hair, then freezes when she hears a second voice, and Tara making an introduction. "This is Sophie".
"Easy, Red." Spike drains the last of the blood in his mug and rinses it in the sink.
"She bought someone." Her voice sounds small and agonised. Sophie's voice drifts in from the doorway.
"My mum always says to say thank you right away, otherwise I forget, so Thank You. And also, um, I can't have any, uh, any chocolate, or, or peanuts or egg yolks, and sometimes dairy...and oh, you don't have pets do you?"
Spike and Willow share a sour look.
"Looks like everyone's bought real winners."
Dawn bounces in to the kitchen.
"Hey, is... if everyone's here now can Buffy open her presents? It's been enough time?"
"Not yet sweetie." Anya says, filling a bowl with chips.
"Why not?"
"Buffy's making a new friend. A grown-up friend." She smiles at her like she's letting her in on a big secret.
"What, you mean the guy you invited to set her up with?"
Anya squirms like she's been caught redhanded doing something she shouldn't.
"It's not like I don't understand why you invited him. I do understand these things."
"Yes you do," Anya pats her arm as she takes a trayful of food through to the next room. Dawn trails behind her.
"You know I'm in high school, right?!"
"Yes you are."