Author Note: Welcome to part two of my post-series fic. Thank you to everyone who's followed along so far. The reviews are really appreciated.

This section is longer than part one, and for the first few chapters it's pretty much fluff and smut in equal measure, before we slip into a deeper plot.

I'd like to dedicate it to 'AGriffinWriter', who is - as her username suggests - a writer herself, but also a friend and faithful reviewer. You should SERIOUSLY check out her work!

Chapter Note: This is a short one, but we'll be getting back into longer chapters again soon. A few months have passed from the last installment - current setting: February 2005. Buffy and Spike are now in their own place (still in London).

They've battled demons and the forces of darkness, but how will they face domestic life?

Part Two: The Next Chapter

Domesticity

Buffy groaned, half waking up. "What's that noise?" she asked, in a croaky voice, as she looked at the clock – 2am.

Spike was alert, having heard it to. Whatever it was automatically put him in combat mode. "I'll go check it out," he said, kissing her forehead, "You rest."

"Uh huh," she mumbled, sleepily closing her eyes again. But when he left their bed she felt the loss of him beside her and couldn't get back to sleep.

Twenty minutes later he re-entered the room and she was sitting up, waiting for him.

"Doesn't look much like resting," he commented, taking a seat beside her.

She ignored his fussing, asking, "Was there a demon? I got tinglies."

"Yeah, just a Xerox. Got rid of him."

Buffy frowned, "Xerox? Like the printers? Because I'm pretty sure the one in work is possessed. Had this dream it was chasing me all over the office. Hey! Maybe it was a slayer dream!"

"Not quite," he chuckled. "More horns, less ink."

"Oh", she said, slumping down into the comforter again. "Well, you killed it, right?"

Spike shrugged, saying, "Just calmly explained that he was disturbing my misses and he understood."

Buffy sat up again, "What?!"

"Don't worry, luv. I took his head off."

"Oh, good. Well, I hope you didn't try to feed it down the garbage disposal this time."

Spike looked guilty for a minute, then rose to his feet again, "I'll be back."

Buffy shook her head but was smiling. "Silly ex-vampire," she muttered, as he left the room.

Buffy ran in the front door to the apartment she shared with Spike, excited to share her news. She found him in the hallway, talking to Giles, but ignored the watcher and jumped straight into her lover's arms shouting, "Guess what!" and then declared, "I got a promotion!" before he had time to.

"That's brilliant, luv," he beamed at her. "Bloody brilliant! I got a mobile."

"A what?" she asked, letting go of him again.

"A cell phone," Giles translated to American for her.

"Oh, cool. Hey Giles!" she took the device from Spike's hands to inspect it. "Where'd you get it?"

"Watcher's old one. He upgraded."

"Aww," she looked at them, "Both my boys entering the 21st century, who'd of thought it?!"

Spike rolled his eyes before picking Buffy up again. "Didn't mean to steal your thunder, pet. My news' slightly less important."

"Didn't steal," she said, quickly planting a peck on his nose, "All good news only adds to thunder."

"I'm sure we'd all like to hear about your promotion, Buffy. Shall I bring Dawn round to celebrate and get all the 'goss'?" asked Giles, grimacing at his own mimicking use of teenage slang.

Buffy was about to agree when Spike interjected. "Not tonight, Rupes. We've got other celebrations to deal with first."

"Oh?" asked Giles and Buffy in unison, and Spike's face dropped a little.

"You didn't remember," he accused his partner. "I said you would and you protested." – then he began smiling again, as a thought struck him – "Does this mean I get a forfeit?"

The cogs were almost visibly turning in Buffy's mind, trying to figure out what he was talking about, but after silence dragged on for a minute or two – only broken by questioning glances thrown at her ex-watcher – Spike became inpatient, pulled a small envelop from his back pocket and handed it to the slayer.

She opened it carefully, not fully convinced something wasn't going to shoot out at her, but when she finally prized the card from its envelope and read the words inside she was flooded with emotion.

"Oh, Spike! I'm sorry I forgot. This is… it's lovely. Did you write it?"

"No," he admitted. "It's Wordsworth. Nothin' of mine would have been good enough."

Buffy hugged him tightly before letting go so she could read the poem again.

Giles coughed, then, drawing the attention back to him.

"Sorry, should explain," said Spike, "It's our sixth month anniversary."

"Ah," the older man nodded. "Of course. Promotion celebration tomorrow instead, then?"

"Sure," said Buffy, not lifting her eyes from the card.

"Right, then. I'll be going."

"Thanks for dropping the phone round, Rupes." Spike said as he closed the door behind him.

Turning back round to his girl he saw the beginnings of tears in her eyes. "Baby," he said, cuddling her into himself. "It's just a few poxy lines. No need to get all emotional on me, eh?"

"It's not just that," she sniffed. "I forgot. I tried not to. Don't want you to think that I love you any less than you do me."

"Hush, now," he whispered, stroking her face, "I don't think that. This is a happy time. No more tears."

Buffy smiled and nodded, "Sorry. I'll all emotion-gal these days, don't know what's wrong with me."

"Nothing wrong, pet," he assured her, "You jus' never got the luxury of having time to feel things properly before; always some apocalypse or other to distract you. Always had to be strong."

"Yeah," she said, shrugging off the last bit of guilt, "I guess."

"Good," he grinned. "Now, about my forfeit…"

To be continued...