Good evening, All,
First of all, let me thank you for all of your wonderful emails and expressions of sympathy. They have been much appreciated during this hard time. I can't believe how many of you have reached out and offered to help me and my family. I owe you many thanks.
Also, I am very glad that you liked the first chapter. I need a little love and hope now, so that is what you will get. For now. :::insert evil grin here::::
Here is chapter two. I hope to have three out on Thursday or Friday, but as the memorial service is on Friday, you will have to bear with me. I am not sure yet what I will be up to and when. But you should see another installment this week.
Thank you again for all the love and support. Please let me know what you think. Knowing that my story makes you smile has really helped me out this last week.
Many thanks.
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002
Title: It's a Wonderful World (Chapter Two of The One)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG -13
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.
Feedback: Yes, please
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike). Lyrics by Louie Armstrong.
Summary: It is Christmas Eve in Sunnydale and the Windsor's are about to have an enormous gathering the next day. But there are some presents that are best given in private. Tara and Willow watch the brood while Buffy and Spike remind each other what gifts really are.
It's a Wonderful World.
They walked in silence, taking their normal route though town. Spike watched her looking around at the lights and the decorations like she was no older than Emma. Then again, he was barely feeling the weight of nearly a century and a half of existence tonight. Something about being around the tots, but more just being around her, had a way of making him feel like he had never died. That all of the years between that alley and her smile were just a strange delusion. This was his real life. Funny how it only took on meaning when she first looked upon him in the school. Even though they were enemies, that was truly the first time he felt his heart again.
"Quiet tonight," Buffy muttered as they walked out of the first of three graveyards they checked each night.
"That it is, Pet," Spike answered, capturing her little hand in his. She slid her fingers through his like they belonged there. They did belong there.
Buffy sighed. "Not really in the mood to kick anything's butt anyway," she continued, sadly.
Spike chuckled. She was always in the mood to kick something's hind end into eternity. It's part of who she is. The Slayer part of the Buffy package. The first reason he fell in love with her. Many, many others came after. "Sorry to disappoint."
She smiled, looking up at him with eyes the colour of emeralds in sunlight. He couldn't help but return it. "I have something to give you."
"Not Christmas yet, Love," Spike answered, giving her hand a squeeze. He pointed up at the clock tower. Eleven-thirty P.M.
"It doesn't have to be," she answered, still studying his face in the moonlight. Spike was as perfect as he was hers. It had taken her far too long too see it. The way the razor sharpness of his features, the fire under the vivid blueness of his eyes was just covering what was soft and kind and sweet. Like some evolutionary defense mechanism. Hiding the fact that one is truly full of gentleness by looking so hard. Truth was, there was nothing hard about him. She smiled wickedly at that thought and quickly amended it. Nothing inside his heart that was hard.
"Still," Spike answered, his voice velvety and smooth, like dark chocolate or fine brandy. "I've got a little something I'd like to give you first. While we're alone."
Buffy's eyes lit up like a child in a toy store. "Oooh, prezzie for me?" She giggled.
He smirked back at her. "Forget all about the giving when you think you're going to get. That how it is, Love?" Spike asked, sarcastically.
"That's me. Take, take, take," she chanted, holding out her palm.
Spike waggled a finger at her, batting her hand back down to her side. "Won't fit in that pretty little palm of yours. Least not the one you're getting tonight."
"Oooh, bigger?" Buffy giggled, sidling in closer to Spike.
A raise of an eyebrow and a wicked smile answered that. "I should hope so."
Buffy shook her head and smiled. "Spike," she cooed. "No games, I want to knnnooowwww," she whined.
He cringed at the sound. "You're regressing to your sis," Spike joked. "In due time, Pet. But," he said, slipping a hand into the pocket of his duster and producing a black scrap of satin. "In the meantime, you'll have to indulge me in a little game."
Buffy eyed the scrap of fabric warily. "Um, here?"
Spike rolled his eyes. "Wicked, girl. Not yet. But you'll ruin the surprise if you don't let me do this and God knows, I can't trust you to close your eyes that long."
Selective hearing. "It's going to be long?" She whimpered as they stopped and he stepped behind her and tied the blindfold over her eyes. Part of her was disappointed. Part of her was flooded with memories of times past involving a blindfold or two. She shuddered in delight.
"Ten seconds be too long for you," Spike quipped, taking her hand again and leading her down the path. "Can't see in there, can you? Be honest, Pet."
"No," Buffy huffed. "This better be good. What if the demons come out and see a blindfolded Slayer being lead through a cemetery by a Vampire?"
Spike thought about that a moment and chuckled. "S'pose they'd think it bloody Christmas, Love."
*****
The Bronze was quiet. Officially, it had closed for business at nine, but Spike had pulled a string or two and spent a few nights protecting the alleys around the establishment in order to cash in a favour. Really, all he needed was the building. But he got a few extras from a grateful manager who he'd pulled out of an altercation with a particularly nasty demon. And made a call to an old friend of the Scoobies.
Buffy was whimpering and whining as he opened the door and led her in. It was dark, save for one table set in the middle of the dance floor, a soft light illuminating it from above. Spike checked the scene thoroughly before even thinking about taking off the blindfold. It had to be right. He had to please her. Give her half of what she had given him.
Slowly, he stepped behind her, sliding his nimble fingers under the knot in the blindfold. "Now, don't think me all soft," Spike whispered into her ear as he lifted the cloth from her eyes. "Just thought you deserved a little something that didn't come in a box."
Buffy's eyes fluttered open as the silky fabric slid from her face. She blinked, taking it all in. The Bronze. But it wasn't. He had changed it. Made it something else. Made it hers. Theirs.
White Christmas lights adorned the stage and the balcony and the stairs to the upstairs lounge. Rose petals littered the floor in scattered patterns. A bottle of champagne was sitting on the table with two delicate glasses. White lilies and one red rose sat in a crystal vase on the table. Buffy blinked again, her heart pounding in her chest.
"S...Spike?" Her voice was like a child. Soft and willowy like satin. She turned her head and looked up at his quiet blue eyes.
"It's not much on the material, but I thought you could use an evening out," he answered, letting his thumb trace her cheek.
Buffy turned back to the tableau. It was like something that rich girls got for a first date. Not what old marrieds with rug rats got for Christmas. Then again, he wasn't your normal partner and theirs wasn't your normal life. "I... I..." Buffy stuttered.
His hands touched her shoulders, turning her towards him. "Do you like it, is all?" Spike asked, watching the stunned expression on her face with grateful amusement.
"I... I...," Buffy stuttered again. "You did this?"
Spike nodded, taking her hand and leading her towards the table. "Still have a little of the old romantic in me now and again," he quipped, pulling out her chair. "My lady?"
Buffy looked up at him wide-eyed and sat primly in the chair as he scooted her in and walked to his own. The place looked wholly different. It smelled of cinnamon and jasmine and pine boughs and the lights made it look like they were in a palace and she was the queen. And he was her king. Always her king.
The bottle of champagne opened with a pop and he lifted her glass to pour some of the bubbly. His eyebrow quirked as he looked at the crystal and he stopped. "Pet, I think there's something wrong with your glass."
"What?" Buffy asked, snatching it from his hand and sticking her face right up to the rim. Something clinked and she tipped the glass into her palm. A small silver locket fell into her hand, on a thin glittering chain. "What?" She asked again, setting down the glass and opening it slowly with trembling hands.
Inside the locket were two small pictures. One was of Emma with William sitting on her lap. It was a bit blurry from where one of them had fidgeted. The other was of her and Spike. She had never seen it before. But there was a pale purple sunset in the background. She was looking at Spike in the photo and he was looking at her and his eyes were so full of everything. Every conceivable emotion and those that no one had made a name for yet. It was from the night on the beach.
"From the tots," Spike said softly. "They thought you might want something to keep 'em close when you're not there."
Tears welled up in Buffy's eyes. "Where did you...?"
"Harris took the other one at the beach. Had it in my pocket for years. Just love the way you look in it. Happy, and all that," Spike answered, pouring champagne into her glass. "Didn't mean to get you all misty, Love," he whispered, leaning across the table and touching her face with amazing softness. She looked up at him and smiled, her eyes wet and saucer wide.
"It's... this... Spike, no one has ever... wow," Buffy stuttered, captured in his crystal gaze. "Thank you."
"No," he whispered, pulling her back up and over to him. "Thank you for saving me," Spike answered, pulling her to him. "Happy Christmas, Pet."
"Merry," Buffy corrected, smiling up at him.
He rolled his eyes. "Americans."
"British Vampire men," Buffy quipped back. His lips pressed softly to hers, brushing against them as light as butterfly wings.
"I love you, Pet. Always."
Buffy hummed against him, drinking in his scent. His flavour. Her body was on fire by his touch. "I love you, Everyday. And thank you," she whispered, her lips brushing against his.
Spike loosed the locket from her hand and spun her around towards the stage. She lifted her hair as he fastened it around her, placing soft kisses on the nape of her neck before turning her back towards him. He handed her a glass of champagne and took his. "You look beautiful, Pet."
Buffy blushed as if she were in high school again and the hottest guy in the senior class was hitting on her. He always made her feel like they had just met and she was the Queen of the world. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?" Spike asked, his brow furrowing.
"Make me feel all not demon killer-y, diaper chang-y, lunch pack-y girl?" Buffy asked, sipping her champagne and sliding her arms over his shoulders.
"S'at what you think you are?" Spike asked, coiling his arms tight to her waist.
"Isn't it?" Buffy asked, her eyes serious.
Spike blinked. She had no idea. No concept of what she meant to the world, or to her family. Or to him. Had to work harder to make sure she knew. "Buffy," he sighed, smoothing her hair down her back. "You're everything. Yeah, you have the whole mum bit on, but I don't see you letting yourself go and forgetting that there's more to you. So much more."
"Oh, really? Like what?" Buffy asked, her body pressed dangerously close to his. She sipped a bit more champagne and looked into his eyes for her answer. There she found it. Sometimes she thought that every answer was there. Maybe it was.
"You're the Slayer, to start with," Spike began, backing her towards the center of the floor, feeling her body melting in to his. "So, you're the saviour of most of the free world."
"Would have bit it years ago without you at my back," Buffy countered.
Spike smiled. "Was there, Pet. Doesn't count. One in the same, we are."
"We are," she answered, hips swaying against his. "What else?"
"You are the strongest woman I know. Raised a kid sis. Kept yourself afloat. Fought the evil hordes, never gave up. Right stubborn bint you are," Spike continued, a half smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
"Not sure if that's a compliment or not," Buffy retorted, tiling her head. At that moment, there was nothing that she wanted to do more than kiss those beautiful lips. "Go on."
He chuckled. "But most of all," he said, pulling her tight against him. Feeling her heat burn them in an eternal inferno. "You're my beautiful, golden goddess. Perfect as the sunrise. Light as the Heavens and as deep as the sea. You are my entire universe, Pet. And every other after. That is what you truly are," Spike answered, looking her dead in the eye. "My forever."
Buffy pushed herself on her toes, letting her lips brush to his. "You did it again," she whispered, her breath tickling his lips.
"Did what?"
"Made me feel like a Queen," she answered softly.
He pulled away, looking at her. "You are, Love. You are my Queen."
A voice came from the darkness at the edge of the stage. "It's all set, Spike," the familiar voice spoke quietly. Buffy's head turned, searching the darkness.
"O... Oz?" She asked, shaking her head.
A small figure appeared just at the edge of the light and waved. "Catch up with you later, Buff. Be at your house tomorrow."
Buffy stared at the figure and then up at Spike, eyes dazed and confused. "How did...?"
"It's all set," Oz repeated. "And the building is yours. Leaving now."
He disappeared into the darkness again, leaving Buffy to stare enigmatically at her partner. "What was...?"
"Trust me, Pet," Spike said, quietly. "And I'll explain later. Okay?"
Buffy stared at his beautiful face, drowning in his eyes. "All right," she agreed, reluctantly. "But what is ready?"
Spike pulled himself away from her for a moment, and then walked to the edge of the stage, pushing a small button. Slowly, he walked back to Buffy, holding out his hand. "Care to dance?"
She smiled, sliding a palm into his and thinking how cute it was that he bowed down to kiss her fingers. "I would love to." The sound system purred to life as he pulled her close, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and cupping her hand softly in his. Like people were supposed to dance. Like they did when he was young.
"I see trees of green, red roses too I see them bloom for me and you And I think to myself, what a wonderful world
I see skies of blue and clouds of white The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night And I think to myself, what a wonderful world
The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky Are also on the faces of people going by I see friends shakin' hands, sayin' "How do you do?" They're really saying "I love you"
I hear babies cryin', I watch them grow They'll learn much more than I'll ever know And I think to myself, what a wonderful world Yes, I think to myself, what a wonderful world
Oh yeah"
The kiss ended as the last note sounded and he looked at her with soft and willing eyes. They way she stared back was everything he could have hoped for and everything he needed, all in a sea of green. It took what little composure he had to find words.
"Thought you said you had something for me, Love," Spike asked, pushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear.
Buffy smiled, warming him inside and out. "I do."
"Thought you were in a rush to show it to me," he asked, pressing her to show her hand. She smiled slyly at him, and then took a step away.
"Sure you want it? Here? Now?" She asked, standing a few feet away, little feet immersed in a sea of rose petals.
A confused and impatient expression crossed his face. "Any reason I wouldn't, Pet?"
"I hope not," Buffy answered, reaching for the top button of her blue blouse. Slowly, with a little shimmy of the hips, she unbuttoned it. "I mean, I hope that *I* don't disappoint."
He stared at her, head tilted in curiosity as the second button popped in her hand. Then the third. She watched his face change from confused to interested to downright lusty as she pulled the fourth and fifth through their holes. Slowly, she opened the shirt, exposing a little black merry widow, so lacey and filmy that it barely covered skin. Like a sheer satin glove, pushing her breasts up to look like ripe golden peaches. Spike swallowed, imagining what might lie below.
"I'm even wrapped. There's a bow. You'll just have to find it," Buffy said slyly as he walked towards her with that sway of the hips that promised more satisfaction than one girl could stand. Spike stopped just inches away, perfect, muscled chest almost close enough to feel through the filmy, black material. He leaned forward, placing a kiss atop where her ripe breasts swelled from the fabric.
"I think I'd like to try," he purred, his lips tracing up her neck. "Think this fits rather nicely with the rest of your gift," he continued, taking her hand in his and leading her Spike stopped by the stage to grab the little remote and pulled her behind, up the magically lit stairway to the upper level.
Buffy had to blink again at the site before her. The beaten and nasty upper floor lounge had been transformed. Lights were everywhere, twinkling in white sparkles. A huge, brass four poster-bed was positioned in the middle, covered completely in soft, red rose petals. "Thought you might like a complete night out," Spike purred, finishing the buttons on her shirt and pulling her close again. She stared at him as if he could read her mind. This was perfect. This was all she could have wanted.
"Sp... Spike," Buffy stuttered again as his hands trailed down the wisp of black fabric covering her.
"Shh," he whispered, fingers finding the button to her skirt. "Don't want to hear another word until I find the sodding bow."
To be contd.
First of all, let me thank you for all of your wonderful emails and expressions of sympathy. They have been much appreciated during this hard time. I can't believe how many of you have reached out and offered to help me and my family. I owe you many thanks.
Also, I am very glad that you liked the first chapter. I need a little love and hope now, so that is what you will get. For now. :::insert evil grin here::::
Here is chapter two. I hope to have three out on Thursday or Friday, but as the memorial service is on Friday, you will have to bear with me. I am not sure yet what I will be up to and when. But you should see another installment this week.
Thank you again for all the love and support. Please let me know what you think. Knowing that my story makes you smile has really helped me out this last week.
Many thanks.
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002
Title: It's a Wonderful World (Chapter Two of The One)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG -13
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.
Feedback: Yes, please
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike). Lyrics by Louie Armstrong.
Summary: It is Christmas Eve in Sunnydale and the Windsor's are about to have an enormous gathering the next day. But there are some presents that are best given in private. Tara and Willow watch the brood while Buffy and Spike remind each other what gifts really are.
It's a Wonderful World.
They walked in silence, taking their normal route though town. Spike watched her looking around at the lights and the decorations like she was no older than Emma. Then again, he was barely feeling the weight of nearly a century and a half of existence tonight. Something about being around the tots, but more just being around her, had a way of making him feel like he had never died. That all of the years between that alley and her smile were just a strange delusion. This was his real life. Funny how it only took on meaning when she first looked upon him in the school. Even though they were enemies, that was truly the first time he felt his heart again.
"Quiet tonight," Buffy muttered as they walked out of the first of three graveyards they checked each night.
"That it is, Pet," Spike answered, capturing her little hand in his. She slid her fingers through his like they belonged there. They did belong there.
Buffy sighed. "Not really in the mood to kick anything's butt anyway," she continued, sadly.
Spike chuckled. She was always in the mood to kick something's hind end into eternity. It's part of who she is. The Slayer part of the Buffy package. The first reason he fell in love with her. Many, many others came after. "Sorry to disappoint."
She smiled, looking up at him with eyes the colour of emeralds in sunlight. He couldn't help but return it. "I have something to give you."
"Not Christmas yet, Love," Spike answered, giving her hand a squeeze. He pointed up at the clock tower. Eleven-thirty P.M.
"It doesn't have to be," she answered, still studying his face in the moonlight. Spike was as perfect as he was hers. It had taken her far too long too see it. The way the razor sharpness of his features, the fire under the vivid blueness of his eyes was just covering what was soft and kind and sweet. Like some evolutionary defense mechanism. Hiding the fact that one is truly full of gentleness by looking so hard. Truth was, there was nothing hard about him. She smiled wickedly at that thought and quickly amended it. Nothing inside his heart that was hard.
"Still," Spike answered, his voice velvety and smooth, like dark chocolate or fine brandy. "I've got a little something I'd like to give you first. While we're alone."
Buffy's eyes lit up like a child in a toy store. "Oooh, prezzie for me?" She giggled.
He smirked back at her. "Forget all about the giving when you think you're going to get. That how it is, Love?" Spike asked, sarcastically.
"That's me. Take, take, take," she chanted, holding out her palm.
Spike waggled a finger at her, batting her hand back down to her side. "Won't fit in that pretty little palm of yours. Least not the one you're getting tonight."
"Oooh, bigger?" Buffy giggled, sidling in closer to Spike.
A raise of an eyebrow and a wicked smile answered that. "I should hope so."
Buffy shook her head and smiled. "Spike," she cooed. "No games, I want to knnnooowwww," she whined.
He cringed at the sound. "You're regressing to your sis," Spike joked. "In due time, Pet. But," he said, slipping a hand into the pocket of his duster and producing a black scrap of satin. "In the meantime, you'll have to indulge me in a little game."
Buffy eyed the scrap of fabric warily. "Um, here?"
Spike rolled his eyes. "Wicked, girl. Not yet. But you'll ruin the surprise if you don't let me do this and God knows, I can't trust you to close your eyes that long."
Selective hearing. "It's going to be long?" She whimpered as they stopped and he stepped behind her and tied the blindfold over her eyes. Part of her was disappointed. Part of her was flooded with memories of times past involving a blindfold or two. She shuddered in delight.
"Ten seconds be too long for you," Spike quipped, taking her hand again and leading her down the path. "Can't see in there, can you? Be honest, Pet."
"No," Buffy huffed. "This better be good. What if the demons come out and see a blindfolded Slayer being lead through a cemetery by a Vampire?"
Spike thought about that a moment and chuckled. "S'pose they'd think it bloody Christmas, Love."
*****
The Bronze was quiet. Officially, it had closed for business at nine, but Spike had pulled a string or two and spent a few nights protecting the alleys around the establishment in order to cash in a favour. Really, all he needed was the building. But he got a few extras from a grateful manager who he'd pulled out of an altercation with a particularly nasty demon. And made a call to an old friend of the Scoobies.
Buffy was whimpering and whining as he opened the door and led her in. It was dark, save for one table set in the middle of the dance floor, a soft light illuminating it from above. Spike checked the scene thoroughly before even thinking about taking off the blindfold. It had to be right. He had to please her. Give her half of what she had given him.
Slowly, he stepped behind her, sliding his nimble fingers under the knot in the blindfold. "Now, don't think me all soft," Spike whispered into her ear as he lifted the cloth from her eyes. "Just thought you deserved a little something that didn't come in a box."
Buffy's eyes fluttered open as the silky fabric slid from her face. She blinked, taking it all in. The Bronze. But it wasn't. He had changed it. Made it something else. Made it hers. Theirs.
White Christmas lights adorned the stage and the balcony and the stairs to the upstairs lounge. Rose petals littered the floor in scattered patterns. A bottle of champagne was sitting on the table with two delicate glasses. White lilies and one red rose sat in a crystal vase on the table. Buffy blinked again, her heart pounding in her chest.
"S...Spike?" Her voice was like a child. Soft and willowy like satin. She turned her head and looked up at his quiet blue eyes.
"It's not much on the material, but I thought you could use an evening out," he answered, letting his thumb trace her cheek.
Buffy turned back to the tableau. It was like something that rich girls got for a first date. Not what old marrieds with rug rats got for Christmas. Then again, he wasn't your normal partner and theirs wasn't your normal life. "I... I..." Buffy stuttered.
His hands touched her shoulders, turning her towards him. "Do you like it, is all?" Spike asked, watching the stunned expression on her face with grateful amusement.
"I... I...," Buffy stuttered again. "You did this?"
Spike nodded, taking her hand and leading her towards the table. "Still have a little of the old romantic in me now and again," he quipped, pulling out her chair. "My lady?"
Buffy looked up at him wide-eyed and sat primly in the chair as he scooted her in and walked to his own. The place looked wholly different. It smelled of cinnamon and jasmine and pine boughs and the lights made it look like they were in a palace and she was the queen. And he was her king. Always her king.
The bottle of champagne opened with a pop and he lifted her glass to pour some of the bubbly. His eyebrow quirked as he looked at the crystal and he stopped. "Pet, I think there's something wrong with your glass."
"What?" Buffy asked, snatching it from his hand and sticking her face right up to the rim. Something clinked and she tipped the glass into her palm. A small silver locket fell into her hand, on a thin glittering chain. "What?" She asked again, setting down the glass and opening it slowly with trembling hands.
Inside the locket were two small pictures. One was of Emma with William sitting on her lap. It was a bit blurry from where one of them had fidgeted. The other was of her and Spike. She had never seen it before. But there was a pale purple sunset in the background. She was looking at Spike in the photo and he was looking at her and his eyes were so full of everything. Every conceivable emotion and those that no one had made a name for yet. It was from the night on the beach.
"From the tots," Spike said softly. "They thought you might want something to keep 'em close when you're not there."
Tears welled up in Buffy's eyes. "Where did you...?"
"Harris took the other one at the beach. Had it in my pocket for years. Just love the way you look in it. Happy, and all that," Spike answered, pouring champagne into her glass. "Didn't mean to get you all misty, Love," he whispered, leaning across the table and touching her face with amazing softness. She looked up at him and smiled, her eyes wet and saucer wide.
"It's... this... Spike, no one has ever... wow," Buffy stuttered, captured in his crystal gaze. "Thank you."
"No," he whispered, pulling her back up and over to him. "Thank you for saving me," Spike answered, pulling her to him. "Happy Christmas, Pet."
"Merry," Buffy corrected, smiling up at him.
He rolled his eyes. "Americans."
"British Vampire men," Buffy quipped back. His lips pressed softly to hers, brushing against them as light as butterfly wings.
"I love you, Pet. Always."
Buffy hummed against him, drinking in his scent. His flavour. Her body was on fire by his touch. "I love you, Everyday. And thank you," she whispered, her lips brushing against his.
Spike loosed the locket from her hand and spun her around towards the stage. She lifted her hair as he fastened it around her, placing soft kisses on the nape of her neck before turning her back towards him. He handed her a glass of champagne and took his. "You look beautiful, Pet."
Buffy blushed as if she were in high school again and the hottest guy in the senior class was hitting on her. He always made her feel like they had just met and she was the Queen of the world. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?" Spike asked, his brow furrowing.
"Make me feel all not demon killer-y, diaper chang-y, lunch pack-y girl?" Buffy asked, sipping her champagne and sliding her arms over his shoulders.
"S'at what you think you are?" Spike asked, coiling his arms tight to her waist.
"Isn't it?" Buffy asked, her eyes serious.
Spike blinked. She had no idea. No concept of what she meant to the world, or to her family. Or to him. Had to work harder to make sure she knew. "Buffy," he sighed, smoothing her hair down her back. "You're everything. Yeah, you have the whole mum bit on, but I don't see you letting yourself go and forgetting that there's more to you. So much more."
"Oh, really? Like what?" Buffy asked, her body pressed dangerously close to his. She sipped a bit more champagne and looked into his eyes for her answer. There she found it. Sometimes she thought that every answer was there. Maybe it was.
"You're the Slayer, to start with," Spike began, backing her towards the center of the floor, feeling her body melting in to his. "So, you're the saviour of most of the free world."
"Would have bit it years ago without you at my back," Buffy countered.
Spike smiled. "Was there, Pet. Doesn't count. One in the same, we are."
"We are," she answered, hips swaying against his. "What else?"
"You are the strongest woman I know. Raised a kid sis. Kept yourself afloat. Fought the evil hordes, never gave up. Right stubborn bint you are," Spike continued, a half smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
"Not sure if that's a compliment or not," Buffy retorted, tiling her head. At that moment, there was nothing that she wanted to do more than kiss those beautiful lips. "Go on."
He chuckled. "But most of all," he said, pulling her tight against him. Feeling her heat burn them in an eternal inferno. "You're my beautiful, golden goddess. Perfect as the sunrise. Light as the Heavens and as deep as the sea. You are my entire universe, Pet. And every other after. That is what you truly are," Spike answered, looking her dead in the eye. "My forever."
Buffy pushed herself on her toes, letting her lips brush to his. "You did it again," she whispered, her breath tickling his lips.
"Did what?"
"Made me feel like a Queen," she answered softly.
He pulled away, looking at her. "You are, Love. You are my Queen."
A voice came from the darkness at the edge of the stage. "It's all set, Spike," the familiar voice spoke quietly. Buffy's head turned, searching the darkness.
"O... Oz?" She asked, shaking her head.
A small figure appeared just at the edge of the light and waved. "Catch up with you later, Buff. Be at your house tomorrow."
Buffy stared at the figure and then up at Spike, eyes dazed and confused. "How did...?"
"It's all set," Oz repeated. "And the building is yours. Leaving now."
He disappeared into the darkness again, leaving Buffy to stare enigmatically at her partner. "What was...?"
"Trust me, Pet," Spike said, quietly. "And I'll explain later. Okay?"
Buffy stared at his beautiful face, drowning in his eyes. "All right," she agreed, reluctantly. "But what is ready?"
Spike pulled himself away from her for a moment, and then walked to the edge of the stage, pushing a small button. Slowly, he walked back to Buffy, holding out his hand. "Care to dance?"
She smiled, sliding a palm into his and thinking how cute it was that he bowed down to kiss her fingers. "I would love to." The sound system purred to life as he pulled her close, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and cupping her hand softly in his. Like people were supposed to dance. Like they did when he was young.
"I see trees of green, red roses too I see them bloom for me and you And I think to myself, what a wonderful world
I see skies of blue and clouds of white The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night And I think to myself, what a wonderful world
The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky Are also on the faces of people going by I see friends shakin' hands, sayin' "How do you do?" They're really saying "I love you"
I hear babies cryin', I watch them grow They'll learn much more than I'll ever know And I think to myself, what a wonderful world Yes, I think to myself, what a wonderful world
Oh yeah"
The kiss ended as the last note sounded and he looked at her with soft and willing eyes. They way she stared back was everything he could have hoped for and everything he needed, all in a sea of green. It took what little composure he had to find words.
"Thought you said you had something for me, Love," Spike asked, pushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear.
Buffy smiled, warming him inside and out. "I do."
"Thought you were in a rush to show it to me," he asked, pressing her to show her hand. She smiled slyly at him, and then took a step away.
"Sure you want it? Here? Now?" She asked, standing a few feet away, little feet immersed in a sea of rose petals.
A confused and impatient expression crossed his face. "Any reason I wouldn't, Pet?"
"I hope not," Buffy answered, reaching for the top button of her blue blouse. Slowly, with a little shimmy of the hips, she unbuttoned it. "I mean, I hope that *I* don't disappoint."
He stared at her, head tilted in curiosity as the second button popped in her hand. Then the third. She watched his face change from confused to interested to downright lusty as she pulled the fourth and fifth through their holes. Slowly, she opened the shirt, exposing a little black merry widow, so lacey and filmy that it barely covered skin. Like a sheer satin glove, pushing her breasts up to look like ripe golden peaches. Spike swallowed, imagining what might lie below.
"I'm even wrapped. There's a bow. You'll just have to find it," Buffy said slyly as he walked towards her with that sway of the hips that promised more satisfaction than one girl could stand. Spike stopped just inches away, perfect, muscled chest almost close enough to feel through the filmy, black material. He leaned forward, placing a kiss atop where her ripe breasts swelled from the fabric.
"I think I'd like to try," he purred, his lips tracing up her neck. "Think this fits rather nicely with the rest of your gift," he continued, taking her hand in his and leading her Spike stopped by the stage to grab the little remote and pulled her behind, up the magically lit stairway to the upper level.
Buffy had to blink again at the site before her. The beaten and nasty upper floor lounge had been transformed. Lights were everywhere, twinkling in white sparkles. A huge, brass four poster-bed was positioned in the middle, covered completely in soft, red rose petals. "Thought you might like a complete night out," Spike purred, finishing the buttons on her shirt and pulling her close again. She stared at him as if he could read her mind. This was perfect. This was all she could have wanted.
"Sp... Spike," Buffy stuttered again as his hands trailed down the wisp of black fabric covering her.
"Shh," he whispered, fingers finding the button to her skirt. "Don't want to hear another word until I find the sodding bow."
To be contd.