Ghost Day

Anya made up her birthday after she became trapped as a human. When your days aren't numbered, it's less important. She figures birthdays are such a big deal because with a mortal life comes the fear that that mortal life will end. She understands, but she thinks it's a ridiculous way to live: counting down your days.

She understands why it's almost unthinkable for a human to forget his or her own date of birth, and she'll coordinate a social gathering with cake and an off-tune song every year for appearances.

When March came around in Anya's second year of being human again, she couldn't remember if she had told Xander her birthday was the 7th or the 17th. She played eenie-meenie-miney-moe and her birthday landed on the 17th. If she had guessed wrong, nobody commented. She was, as always, delighted with the ritual of gift-giving.

This year her favourite present came, surprisingly, from Dawn, who eagerly handed Anya a copy of "Wealth of Nations".

"It's by Adam Smith. He was, like, this uber ultimate capitalist. We learned about him in history class.

Anya smiled a genuine smile. Maybe birthdays weren't that ridiculous.

--

Silent Rebellion

Kendra doesn't rebel. Even if she had not been instilled with the dutiful, rigid responsibility of a Vampire Slayer, she still would have blossomed into a girl who held her tongue, whose eyes were constantly averted in respect or shyness.

She likes that her life has a purpose and that her needs are taken care of. So Kendra doesn't rebel. Even her mind is still.

Except she never forgot her birthday. Ever since she was a little girl, it had always been treated as inadequate. Her Watcher was austere and they had no time to hold discussions over boxes and bows when there were techniques and blades to become familiar with. Though she was never commanded outright to forget her birthday; the issue had been left to fade away.

Kendra doesn't rebel, but she never forgot her birthday.

--

Real a Lie

AU ; Buffy/Spike ; takes place a few years after Becoming Part 2

Xander wonders where she is sometimes. Well, more than sometimes. He wonders where she is a lot of the time.

Cordelia had forced Xander to take a few days off from his construction job so that they could get away for his birthday. He would be twenty tomorrow.

Cordelia returned to their small table with a beer in each hand and he kissed her on the cheek as she sat down. Suddenly, his eyes widened as the girl up on the club's stage began to sing.

Xander fixated on her. Her hair was darker and her body had become a little fuller and her taste in clothes had changed a fair amount but it was her. It couldn't not be her. The funny thing is that Xander had never known that Buffy could sing. But here she was crooning into the microphone as though she'd been doing this for ages.

All the years searching across the globe and she was only an hour's drive away all this time.

Hours later, after Buffy had bid the enthusiastic audience goodnight, she slipped backstage.

Xander babbled offhandedly to Cordelia that he needed to go to the bathroom. Cordelia wasn't stupid; she recognized Buffy and realized that Xander would need to see her. But she kept her mouth shut and finished her beer.

Xander climbed the steps that led to the backstage area, weaving around a stack of drums and an abandoned pair of boots. He dragged his clammy hands across his jeans and peered around a dark corner and nothing prepared him for what he witnessed.

Spike had his fingers through her hair and was tilting her head so that he could deepen their kiss. Buffy moaned and gasped and pressed herself closer to him.

Xander turned away from this odd dark taunt. He wondered why he had been shown this, why he had been shown her.

He bitterly wishes himself a happy birthday and Cordelia doesn't ask when he pulls her out of the club without a word.