I can hear his car before he turns into the driveway; he must have the
sunroof open again because the punk music is floating through the kitchen
window. Reaching across the table, I take a sip of my tea before turning my
attention back to the pile of papers. His papers, they're filled with his
words. I'm glad that he finally let me read them, after all I did have to
put up with the notebooks he left all over the house and the scattered
crumbled wads of paper thrown around his office.
"Hey pet. How're my girls?"
Turning my head to the side, I can see his smiling face, the carefree one that he has on Fridays after his last class of the week. His eyes are twinkling, sparkling with the knowledge that his classroom will be empty for three days and that we might actually get some time to ourselves.
"Good. How was your day," I ask, leaning in for a kiss. Never one to deny his girl, Spike leans down, his lips gently brushing mine before he tangling his hands in my hair and deepens the kiss. When he pulls away, I raise my eyebrows expectantly, waiting for an answer.
He grimaces and I have to laugh at the sight of his lightly tanned forehead scrunching up and his dark eyebrows coming together in a v.
"That good, huh?"
"Something like that sweetheart."
Moving around the table to sit beside me, Spike throws his jacket on an empty chair, the black leather pooling across the seat. It's not his duster but it's still familiar. I told him that no one was going to hire him as a professor with a jacket that looks like it's been through the apocalypse and back. And let's not even get started on the fight we had over his hair.
I voted for his natural color, a soft brown that I surprisingly found looked sexy. But he overruled me, saying that maybe he'd grow it out in two months, saving the natural color for a time when school's out and it's just us. I just think he still wants to feel like the Big Bad. Not that I'm complaining.
Spike voice brings me out of my musings; he's still talking about his day, even though I haven't been paying attention.
"Sometimes I don't know why I bother, y'know luv? Buffy?"
Waving his hand in front of my face, he leans in closer, his eyes gazing intently into mind. I feel like I'm drowning in the twin pools of sapphire blue. I smile apologetically, my mind slowly coming back to the present moment. Shaking his head, Spike just continues to stare at me, his tongue curling behind his front teeth. I shiver involuntarily, hating how he can turn me into a puddle of goo with a simple look.
"You alright there sweetheart?"
I nod, my hand resting on the swell of my stomach as I lean back in the chair. This time I'm paying attention.
"Yeah, just zoned out for a minute. I'm back now."
Spike just shrugs and keeps talking.
"Like I was saying, I have to figure out a curve for this damn exam. Can't have half my bloody class failing. I mean is it that difficult to read two books? In three weeks no less?"
"I didn't think so."
Sometimes I don't understand why Spike does it, why he stands in front of a class of college students three days a week. Especially when he doesn't have to. That's the part that I really don't understand, not that I'm complaining or anything.
He didn't tell me until we were on our honeymoon, lying in bed our first night in the hotel, the Eiffel Tower all lit up outside our window. I was shocked to say the least. I mean who would have thought that Spike was worth more then most Fortune 500 CEOs? Hell I was surprised to find out that he had money in savings, much less that the balance in his accounts was more money then I'd ever seen.
But even so, Spike still insisted on getting a real job, saying something about proving himself worthy. I didn't ask, I think it's some of that old Victorian mindset where women depended on their husbands to provide for the family.
Right after we left Sunnydale, we talked about me going back to college, but that's still a long way off. I've got so much more to think about now; Dawn's starting to look at schools, Giles keeps calling me about Council rebuilding stuff, and then there's the baby to think about. Sometimes I don't even know where the time goes, my life began again the day Spike came back to me and it just seems to keep spiraling faster and faster.
"You even listening to me pet?"
I look over at Spike and he's leaning back in his chair, perching on the back two legs, the same way Dawn sits before he tells her that she's going to fall and smash her head open. My cheeks flush red and I look down. Spike chuckles, the chair falling back on all four legs as he reaches over to brush a loose piece of hair off my cheek. Somehow no matter what I do with my front layers they also seem to fall across my eyes.
Leaning into his touch, my eyes drift shut with a contented sigh.
"I love you."
The words seem to fall on their own accord and I can imagine the smile on his face. No matter how many times I say those three words, it doesn't ever seem to be enough. I just can't help but remembering how close I was to losing him forever. A year ago we were getting ready to take on the ultimate evil, wondering if an army of teenage girls and rag-tag demon fighters was going to be enough. And looking back, I don't know if they were. In the dark recesses of my mind I want to believe that it was love that defeated the First, that Spike and I in some hopeless romantic way conquered the supreme evil through love and forgiveness.
"Love you too pet."
Before he can say anything else, the telephone rings and I glance at the clock. It's just a few minutes after five, time for Dawn to be calling and asking for a ride home. She's always there late, working on the yearbook or fixing something for the newspaper. The last few months she's been at play rehearsals, opening night is in two weeks and we can't wait.
I'm glad that she's keeping busy and that she gave up on her idea of being the next Slayer. Last I heard, she wants to be a lawyer. At least we don't need to worry about that for a while, I just want her to finish the next two years of high school.
Spike covers the mouthpiece of the cordless phone. It's Friday which means that it's take-out night and tonight it's Dawn's turn to choose.
"Nibblet says she's in the mood for Morelli's if that's alright with you."
I nod in approval, "yeah that's fine, just make sure you get me that cheese and bread thing."
Amazed that I still cannot remember the name of the foods I like and still rely on vague descriptions, Spike turns back to the phone call. "She said that's fine . And she wants a calzone . get one of the big ones and I'll finish it if she doesn't .. And get me that shrimp scampi..the special, yeah that one .. Alright Nibblet, I'm leaving now..see you in a few."
Hanging up the phone, Spike turns back to me. "I'm heading over to pick up Dawn and we'll get dinner on the way home."
I smile, already starting to clean up the layer of papers covering the tabletop.
"Be careful."
"Always luv," he says and with another kiss that leaves me weak in the knees, Spike is out the door. Smoothing out the rumpled fabric of my pink shirt, I shake my head, amazed at how much of a difference a year makes.
"Hey pet. How're my girls?"
Turning my head to the side, I can see his smiling face, the carefree one that he has on Fridays after his last class of the week. His eyes are twinkling, sparkling with the knowledge that his classroom will be empty for three days and that we might actually get some time to ourselves.
"Good. How was your day," I ask, leaning in for a kiss. Never one to deny his girl, Spike leans down, his lips gently brushing mine before he tangling his hands in my hair and deepens the kiss. When he pulls away, I raise my eyebrows expectantly, waiting for an answer.
He grimaces and I have to laugh at the sight of his lightly tanned forehead scrunching up and his dark eyebrows coming together in a v.
"That good, huh?"
"Something like that sweetheart."
Moving around the table to sit beside me, Spike throws his jacket on an empty chair, the black leather pooling across the seat. It's not his duster but it's still familiar. I told him that no one was going to hire him as a professor with a jacket that looks like it's been through the apocalypse and back. And let's not even get started on the fight we had over his hair.
I voted for his natural color, a soft brown that I surprisingly found looked sexy. But he overruled me, saying that maybe he'd grow it out in two months, saving the natural color for a time when school's out and it's just us. I just think he still wants to feel like the Big Bad. Not that I'm complaining.
Spike voice brings me out of my musings; he's still talking about his day, even though I haven't been paying attention.
"Sometimes I don't know why I bother, y'know luv? Buffy?"
Waving his hand in front of my face, he leans in closer, his eyes gazing intently into mind. I feel like I'm drowning in the twin pools of sapphire blue. I smile apologetically, my mind slowly coming back to the present moment. Shaking his head, Spike just continues to stare at me, his tongue curling behind his front teeth. I shiver involuntarily, hating how he can turn me into a puddle of goo with a simple look.
"You alright there sweetheart?"
I nod, my hand resting on the swell of my stomach as I lean back in the chair. This time I'm paying attention.
"Yeah, just zoned out for a minute. I'm back now."
Spike just shrugs and keeps talking.
"Like I was saying, I have to figure out a curve for this damn exam. Can't have half my bloody class failing. I mean is it that difficult to read two books? In three weeks no less?"
"I didn't think so."
Sometimes I don't understand why Spike does it, why he stands in front of a class of college students three days a week. Especially when he doesn't have to. That's the part that I really don't understand, not that I'm complaining or anything.
He didn't tell me until we were on our honeymoon, lying in bed our first night in the hotel, the Eiffel Tower all lit up outside our window. I was shocked to say the least. I mean who would have thought that Spike was worth more then most Fortune 500 CEOs? Hell I was surprised to find out that he had money in savings, much less that the balance in his accounts was more money then I'd ever seen.
But even so, Spike still insisted on getting a real job, saying something about proving himself worthy. I didn't ask, I think it's some of that old Victorian mindset where women depended on their husbands to provide for the family.
Right after we left Sunnydale, we talked about me going back to college, but that's still a long way off. I've got so much more to think about now; Dawn's starting to look at schools, Giles keeps calling me about Council rebuilding stuff, and then there's the baby to think about. Sometimes I don't even know where the time goes, my life began again the day Spike came back to me and it just seems to keep spiraling faster and faster.
"You even listening to me pet?"
I look over at Spike and he's leaning back in his chair, perching on the back two legs, the same way Dawn sits before he tells her that she's going to fall and smash her head open. My cheeks flush red and I look down. Spike chuckles, the chair falling back on all four legs as he reaches over to brush a loose piece of hair off my cheek. Somehow no matter what I do with my front layers they also seem to fall across my eyes.
Leaning into his touch, my eyes drift shut with a contented sigh.
"I love you."
The words seem to fall on their own accord and I can imagine the smile on his face. No matter how many times I say those three words, it doesn't ever seem to be enough. I just can't help but remembering how close I was to losing him forever. A year ago we were getting ready to take on the ultimate evil, wondering if an army of teenage girls and rag-tag demon fighters was going to be enough. And looking back, I don't know if they were. In the dark recesses of my mind I want to believe that it was love that defeated the First, that Spike and I in some hopeless romantic way conquered the supreme evil through love and forgiveness.
"Love you too pet."
Before he can say anything else, the telephone rings and I glance at the clock. It's just a few minutes after five, time for Dawn to be calling and asking for a ride home. She's always there late, working on the yearbook or fixing something for the newspaper. The last few months she's been at play rehearsals, opening night is in two weeks and we can't wait.
I'm glad that she's keeping busy and that she gave up on her idea of being the next Slayer. Last I heard, she wants to be a lawyer. At least we don't need to worry about that for a while, I just want her to finish the next two years of high school.
Spike covers the mouthpiece of the cordless phone. It's Friday which means that it's take-out night and tonight it's Dawn's turn to choose.
"Nibblet says she's in the mood for Morelli's if that's alright with you."
I nod in approval, "yeah that's fine, just make sure you get me that cheese and bread thing."
Amazed that I still cannot remember the name of the foods I like and still rely on vague descriptions, Spike turns back to the phone call. "She said that's fine . And she wants a calzone . get one of the big ones and I'll finish it if she doesn't .. And get me that shrimp scampi..the special, yeah that one .. Alright Nibblet, I'm leaving now..see you in a few."
Hanging up the phone, Spike turns back to me. "I'm heading over to pick up Dawn and we'll get dinner on the way home."
I smile, already starting to clean up the layer of papers covering the tabletop.
"Be careful."
"Always luv," he says and with another kiss that leaves me weak in the knees, Spike is out the door. Smoothing out the rumpled fabric of my pink shirt, I shake my head, amazed at how much of a difference a year makes.