"Are you sure you have everything," Buffy asked, gnawing anxiously on her lower lip. Dawn sighed in exasperation, rolling her brown eyes dramatically. "For the last time, I'm almost twenty-three years old; I think I know how to pack a suitcase," she snapped. Buffy had been asking her the same questins for what felt like forever, and Dawn's already paper- thin patience was at a breaking point. Clearing his throat quietly, Spike shot a pointed glare at the younger woman, his blue eyes piercing through her. Dawn swallowed hard, hating to be on the receiving end of Spike's trademark glare of disapproval even for a moment. She hastily added, "but I doubled checked before we left the apartment."

Buffy nodded, her head bobbing back and forth like a puppet. She hadn't even noticed Dawn's attitude nor had she caught Spike's intervention, all Buffy could thingk about was saying good-bye to her sister. Even though Dawn was only going to Colorado, it still felt like there were a million miles between the sisters instead of a few thousand. Their lives were so different and there never seemed to be enough time; she had loved having Dawn stay with her for a week, it gave them the chance to hang out just like they had when they all lived in Sunnydale. A loud voice came over the intercom, announcing that Dawn's non-stop flight to Colorado was about to begin boarding. Glancing at his watch, Spike tipped his head in Dawn's direction as people began to move towards the gate.

"Well, I better get going," Dawn said, hating to leave Buffy and Spike, but still anxious to go home. Stepping over her bag, Dawn stood in front of the blonde couple. She hugged Spike first, pressing her cheek against the cool leather of his coat. "Bye," she whispered as they pulled apart, Spike pressing a brotherly kiss on her cheek. "Have a safe trip Nibblet," the blonde vampire said, "call if you need anything." Dawn smiled, turning towards Buffy to wrap her in a crushing hug. "Thanks for letting me crash for a while," she said, trying to lighten the melancholy mood that had permeated the air surrounding them. Buffy smiled, "anytime," she chirped. Kissing her sister's cheek, Dawn stepped back to look at her family before picking up her bag. Spike had wrapped his arm around Buffy's shoulders and her left arm was woven around his waist. Dawn smiled, she was so glad that Buffy and Spike had worked everything out and that her family was back in one piece.

She draped her coat over the handle of her carryon and waved at Buffy and Spike with her other hand. Moving towards the short line of people getting on the plane, she paused to look back at the couple. "I'll call you later," she told her sister, "so you know I got back alright." Buffy nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears, "bye Dawnie." Tightening his grip on Buffy's shoulders, Spike raised his free hand to wave at Dawn. She wiggled her fingers in another good-bye wave before turning away from them. The crowd of travelers seemed to swell around the blonde couple and Spike looked down at Buffy. "You ready to go," he asked. She nodded, slipping her hand out from beneath the lapels of his duster and interlacing her fingers with his. "Let's go home," she said.

The grandfather clock in the living room was just chiming one-thirty when Spike pushed open the front door. Buffy followed him into the dimly lit apartment, not even bothering to take off her coat before collapsing onto the over-stuffed living room sofa. "Tired, pet," Spike asked, slipping out of his duster, dropping it over one of the dining room chairs. "Exhausted," she muttered, her voice muffled against the arm she had draped over her face. Crossing the apartment, Spike plopped down on the sofa beside Buffy so her head resting against the outside of his denim-covered thigh. She nuzzled his leg, trying to find a comfortable position on the couch, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. He moved her head onto his lap, her left cheek pressed against the rough material of his jeans. Buffy curled her legs underneath her body, leaning against the back cushions of the sofa, her one arm tucked under her chin. "It's been a long week, pet," Spike said, gently smoothing out the long blonde curls that had fallen over his leg. Buffy didn't answer; she was so tired from the past week's never-ending whirlwind of activity that she had fallen right to sleep.

"Now I know this sofa is bloody uncomfortable," Spike said quietly after a few minutes of listening to Buffy's rhythmic breathing. He eased himself off the cushion, not wanting to wake Buffy up as he slid one arm under her lower back and another arm around her bent knees. Swinging the petite blonde into his arms, Spike shifted her until Buffy's head was resting against his chest. Her eyelids fluttered open and Buffy let out a soft murmur of approval before ducking her head back against Spike's black cotton shirt. He smirked, carrying her down the hall towards the bedroom without turning off any of the lights.

Spike didn't even bother to turn on any lights in the bedroom, as he moved across the shadowy room towards the bed. Turning her head, Buffy whispered, "you can put me down now." Smiling, Spike laid his golden goddess onto the plush comforter. She sat up, pulling the hem of her sweater over her head and throwing the black wool garment across the room. Spike raised his scarred eyebrow, surprised at her behavior. Shaking her head, Buffy murmured, "I have to clean this place tomorrow, so I might as well just throw the sweater over there and deal with it later." Her hands drifted down to her boots, yanking the zipper down and kicking her feet out of the confines of black leather.

Suddenly Spike's mouth went dry and all thoughts of sleep flew out of his head. As if she were reading his mind, Buffy smiled coyly in his direction, batting her impossibly long eyelashes up at him, her green eyes staring intnetly. "Are you coming to bed," she asked, her voice low and seductive. Not trusting his brain to form coherent sentences, Spike nodded. Buffy's smile widened, "good," she purred, giving no inclining that she was exhausted beyond belief. "Aren't you going to get undressed?" Spike looked down at his clothes as a pair of blue jeans crossed his line of vision, followed by a pair of socks. Raising her eyebrows expectantly, Buffy patted the spot on the bed beside her in a silent invitation. "I thought you were tired," he protested weakly, slipping out of his long-sleeved shirt and toeing off his shoes.

Buffy's face fell and she turned away from Spike, curling up against the pillow. "Fine," she pouted, her voice almost completely muffled. Spike exhaled loudly, kicking himself for trying to be a concerned boyfriend and ending up an insensitive git who hurt Buffy's feelings. The rest of his clothes fell in a haphazard pile on the floor and Spike slipped into bed beside Buffy, the tips of his fingers tracing the smooth muscles of her back and shoulders. "Go away," she muttered, sliding to the furthest edge of the bed until she was hanging onto the edge. Spike growled, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling Buffy across the bed. He hooked his chin over her shoulder, his body molding to hers. "Don't be angry, sweetness," he murmured, his voice unhinging every nerve in Buffy's body. She shook her head, still trying to maintain her wounded pout. Spike kissed the side of her neck, attaching his mouth to the spot right above the pulse point, sending waves of emotion crashing through her body. Turning around to face Spike, Buffy jutted out her lower lip. "Thought you didn't want me," she pouted. Spike's eyes flashed yellow, "always want you," he growled, "always." She smiled in feminine satisfaction, pulling his face down towards hers for a hungry kiss. "Good," she whispered against his mouth. Always want you too, she thought before Spike's talented lips cut off any more revelations.

When Buffy woke up she was alone in bed, small beams of sunlight casting long shadows through the dark curtains. She lightly traced the indented pillowcase next to her head, her ruby-red fingernails grazing the soft mass of feathers. Burying her face in the pillow, Buffy inhaled Spike's scent, wondering where he was. She stretched lazily, extending her arms over her head like a cat basking in the sun. A contented smile danced over her face and Buffy reached for her new bathrobe, wrapping the dark red silk around her body. She hummed quietly, her feet curling against the cold floorboards of the hallway as she walked into the bathroom. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Buffy grinned widely before picking up her hairbrush. A few quick passes through her almost waist-length hair was all it took to transform the limp strands into a shimmering golden cascade.

I love Sundays, she mused as she walked towards the kitchen. Outside her windows, the snow had almost completely disappeared, leaving the sidewalks and streets clear. The city was just beginning to wake up, hundreds of people leaving their warm beds to greet the sunny day. Buffy's thoughts came to an abrupt halt when she saw the mess in her kitchen.

Even though she hadn't cleaned the apartment in a week, she knew that the kitchen was the only room that didn't need immediate attention. Buffy stood frozen, leaning against the doorframe, surveying the room in horror. Her normally spotless countertops were buried beneath at least two dozen pots, each filled with varying amounts of batter and other bits of powder. The table was covered with plates stacked with pieces of fruit and other tiny bits of food. Dirty towels sat in a pile on the side of the table, resting against an opened box of pancake mix that was covered in a light dusting of flour.

At that moment, Buffy's attention was riveted on the denim-clad legs that were sticking out of her refrigerator. The tight but not too tight jeans gave her a fabulous view of Spike's butt, making her forget about the state of disarray that surrounded them. Clearing her throat loudly, Buffy bit the corners of her mouth, attempting to appear mad about the mess that surrounded them. Spike gave no inclination that he had heard her less-than- subtle entrance, he kept rummaging through the dark recesses of her refrigerator. "Spike... love," Buffy said, her tone light and teasing, "what are you doing?" At the sound of Buffy's musical voice, Spike's head shot out of the refrigerator; his lips curled into an amused smile, blue eyes glittering mischievously. Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow expectantly, trying to conceal her smile.

"Morning," Spike said, crossing the kitchen towards her. Wrapping his arms tightly around Buffy's waist, Spike drew her against his body. "You look gorgeous," he said, "absolute perfection." Leaning his head down towards hers, Spike captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Buffy sighed into his mouth, her tongue dueling with his. Breaking the kiss, Buffy rested her palms against Spike's pectorals, "that isn't going to make me forget about the disaster in here," she said. Spike cocked his scarred eyebrow, "just have to try harder then," he said, bringing his mouth down towards hers. "As much as I love you," Buffy said, playfully ducking her head down to evade his lips, "I'd like to know what you're doing to my kitchen?" He just smiled; wrapping one arm around her hips as the other gently caressed her cheek. "Making you breakfast, sweetheart. If you hadn't gotten up so early, I would've brought it in to you."

"That's sweet," Buffy said, covering Spike's hand with her own. His face twisted, "I may be a lot of things, luv, but sweet is not one of them," he argued. Buffy pursed her lips in mock annoyance, "of course not. No sweetness whatsoever," she said seriously. Sometimes it was more fun to stroke Spike's male ego then it was to argue with him, especially when coffee and kisses were involved. "You're still the Big Bad," Buffy purred, her mouth next to Spike's ear, her warm breath tickling his cheek. He smirked, that devilish grin that melted Buffy's insides to mush. "That's what I thought," he said, moving towards the oven with an almost predatory swagger.

But I still think you're sweet, Buffy thought as she watched his retreating back. Spike turned around when he felt her eyes on him, a questioning look on his face and Buffy raised her eyebrows in her best innocent-of-all- charges expression. Shaking his head, Spike pulled a covered dish out of the oven, "it's almost all done, if you want to go sit down, I'll bring it out." Buffy nodded, toying with the silken sash of her bathrobe, "think I might go back to bed," she said thoughtfully, "get the most of your breakfast in bed idea." Spike nodded, his hand firmly pressed against her lower back, moving her out of the kitchen, "whatever you want sweetheart. Just get out of here." Kissing the top of her head gently, Spike gave Buffy a gently push towards the bedroom, "I'll be right there," he said.

Buffy smiled, her eyes glowing with passion and anticipation as she made her way back through her apartment. She loved when Spike did thoughtful things like making her breakfast; it just confirmed her theory that underneath his Big Bad exterior, Spike was a romantic at heart. Buffy smiled as she walked into the bedroom, not bothering to shut the door behind her. The room was bathed in shadows, navy blue curtains blocking out any trace of sunlight. Smoothing the bed sheets back into place, Buffy fluffed the pillows before slipping back under the comforter. She allowed her eyes to drift shut, a contented smile on her face. "A girl could get used to this," she purred softly.

Back in the kitchen, Spike was putting the finishing touches on his breakfast tray for Buffy. "Alright mate, you can do this," he told himself, trying to summon the courage to not scrap the entire scheme. Pulling a worn velvet box out of his pocket, Spike turned it over in his hands. "This is it," he said, "I can do this." He tugged self-consciously on his black tee- shirt, wondering briefly if he should put on shoes, but realizing that he was just stalling for time. "Here goes nothing," Spike said, making his way out of the kitchen. He walked slowly towards the bedroom, knowing that this was his last chance to back out, to forget his romantic notions and careful planning.

The bedroom door was already open and Spike paused in the doorway to look at his golden goddess. Buffy was still wearing the red robe he had given her, the long sleeves rested atop the comforter, covering her tiny hands. Her long blonde hair spilled over the pillows; just like a princess, Spike thought appreciatively. "Breakfast is served," he said, placing the tray on Buffy's lap. She smiled up at him, "thanks, but what did I do to deserve quality cooking?" He shrugged, slipping into the bed beside her, "eat now, ask questions later."

Buffy didn't need to be told twice, everything looked delicious and she was starving. Her eyes widened as she looked at the food Spike had prepared for breakfast, the tray was practically overflowing with plates and bowls. Fresh fruit filled a crystal goblet, pieces of honeydew and melon mixed with cantaloupe. Three pancakes were stacked on the plate beside them, the butter and syrup cascading over them like a waterfall. An egg-white omelet filled its own plate, pieces of red and green pepper mixed with cheddar cheese garnished the top. Several slices of bread filled a third plate, cut in half and lightly buttered, just the way she like it. A glass of cranberry juice sat on one edge of the tray, a steaming cup of coffee opposite it.

"Who do you think is going to eat all of this," Buffy teased Spike gently, leaning her head against his shoulder. He shrugged, "I'll help." Buffy smiled, sliding her fork through the omelet, "I'll hold you to that." They ate in comfortable silence, Buffy tasting everything and Spike stealing occasional tastes off her plate. Once the last piece of fruit had been polished off and her coffee cup was empty, Buffy moved the tray onto the floor. "That was delicious," she proclaimed, kissing Spike's cheek, "thanks." Spike smiled, "glad you liked it, pet."

Buffy arched a delicate eyebrow, "now, what'd I do to deserve this," she asked, "not that I'm complaining." Biting back a grin, Spike teased, "of course not." He paused, trying to think of the right words, "Buffy, luv, there's something I want to ask you." Buffy looked up at Spike, her green eyes wide and questioning as she watched him reach into the pocket of his jeans. Pulling out a worn velvet box, Spike knelt beside her on the bed, his throat suddenly dry. "I love you sweetheart," he began, opening the case. "Will you marry me?" Buffy's jaw dropped, her gaze was torn between the enormous diamond glittering in front of her and the cerulean depths of Spike's eyes. "What," she asked, her voice a hushed whisper, not really believing what was happening; everything as happening so fast and her mind was still reeling. Spike's eyes shone with love as he pulled the ring out of the box, slipping it onto her left ring finger. "Buffy Summers, will you marry me?"

She didn't answer right away; Buffy's brain was trying to remember how to talk, she was spellbound by the look in Spike's eyes. Pure adoration was reflected in the cerulean depths and the intense emotions caused tears to well up in her own eyes. Realizing that Spike was still waiting for an answer, Buffy cupped his face between her shaking palms, pulling his lips towards hers. She didn't care if they were rushing things, if this was jumping ahead of everything; all she knew was that the man she loved had just asked her to become his wife.

"Yes," she whispered, brushing her lips against his, trying to hold back the flood of tears. Spike broke the kiss for a moment and studied her quizzically. "Are you sure, sweetheart," he asked, gently wiping the moisture off her cheeks, staring intently into her emerald eyes. Buffy laughed at his serious expression, a lilting musical sound that filled the quiet apartment. "Sure, I'm sure," she said, pretending to be put-off by his skepticism. Her stern look lasted for an instant, before Buffy broke into a fit of giggles. She took a deep breath, trying to maintain some kind of composure. "Spike, I love you," she said, her voice ringing with happiness. Wrapping his arms tightly around her body, Spike pulled Buffy against his chest in a crushing embrace, "I love you too. Buffy, love you so much."