Five Days and Two Weeks

Buffy prodded her lover gently, bidding him to wake up.

"Spiiike," she whined, as he lay there, completely unresponsive.

Finally a wicked grin flashed across her face, before she shook it off and donned her most convincing innocent look.

Lifting the edge of the comforter to take a peek at his naked form underneath, she gently started to trail her fingers down his side.

Feeling his skin begin to react to her, especially as her hand reached lower, Buffy pulled away quickly and said, matter-of-factly, "I'm thinking of getting my hair cut short again."

Suddenly Spike's eyes were open, watching her.

"Don't you bloody dare!" he said, sitting up.

"Oh," she replied, coyly, "You still like it long? Like to have it bounce around while you-"

Spike growled in response, cutting her off as pulled her into his lap, "Should know better than to tease me, pet. Might get more than you bargained for."

Buffy giggled, "Couldn't resist."

Laying kisses across her chest, Spike murmured in agreement, "Know the feeling."

"Mmm," she moaned. "Never gonna get tired of waking up to you – once you finally do wake up, that is!"

"What can I say? Landed myself an insatiable little chit; don't blame me when you're the one knocks me out, luv."

She smiled down at him before nudging his head out of her cleavage and extracting herself from their bed.

"Whoa, hey!" he said, taking hold of her wrist, "Where are you going?"

"Shower," she answered him plainly, with a wink. "You coming?"

"Oh, yes, baby," he confirmed, taking hold of Buffy around the waist and carrying her to their destination.

When the hot water began to run out Buffy pushed her lover out of their shared cubical, insisting, "I actually gotta get clean now."

"Why?" he asked, with a pout.

"Gotta try on my dress," she answered, with her back to him as the quickly scrubbed herself down with shower gel – not wanting to be in the now ice cold water any longer than necessary.

Having given up hope of rejoining her under the stream for a third go round Spike picked up a towel and began drying himself off. "Dress?" was all he asked.

"Yeah," she said, shutting off the water, "I'm assuming that's what's in the package. Not expecting anything else."

"Oh," he said, stopping mid action to face her again, as she stepped out onto the floor. "The dress? Forgot about that. What happens if I don't tell you where it is?"

"You force me to marry you naked," she replied, with a shrug.

Pretending to think it over momentarily, Spike finally said, "Doesn't bother me."

"Uh huh. Might do when everyone else starts eyeing up your bride."

With a growl he conceded the point and handed her her towel, while wrapping his own around his hips. "Shall leave it on the bed for you. Don't take too long, I'm making breakfast."

"Sounds divine," she replied, kissing him.

Buffy did find her package on the bed, as promised, and found her wedding dress inside as expected. She did not expect the sudden quickening of her heartbeat, and fumbling of her hands upon touching the silky material.

'Calm,' she told herself. Then, 'Wow. This is really happening.'

After pulling it on Buffy was transfixed by her image in the mirror, only brought back to earth when Spike called to her.

"Still alive in there?"

"Uh huh," she responded.

Spike asked her the verdict, when she joined him in the kitchen.

"It's perfect," she replied, beaming, "And I know everyone says that, but it really is!"

He returned her smile. "Am not gonna get a peek, am I?"

"Nope," she confirmed. "Gotta wait a whole two weeks and five days."

His grin widened, "Been counting down, have we?"

Buffy nodded, then turned her attention to the breakfast he'd lovingly prepared for her – ignoring the burnt bits.

"So hungry!" she said, with her mouth full of her third stuffed bagel; "And so good!" she added, lifting it up to emphasize her words.

Spike took a bite out of it, when it came too close to his face, and the Slayer scowled at him.

"Mine!" she protested, finishing off the rest.

"Be half mine soon enough," he retorted, smirking.

Buffy knew better than to think they'd ever stop bickering, but no longer saw it as a bad thing. Part of her kind of enjoyed it, and when it got too much and was actually annoying there were always fun ways to make up again.

"So, I was thinking," said Spike, interjecting her thoughts.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"There are a few options on the ceremony…"

"Yeah?" she said again, now suspicious, "What are you getting at?"

Spike sighed, then spat out in a single breath, "How would you feel about writing our own vows?"

"How would I-?" she began to repeat his question, but her mouth went dry.

Shaking her head, Buffy tried again. "Me write? But, Buffy and words are like total non-mixy things!"

"You don't have to do it," Spike insisted, nervously, "Was just an idea."

Judging by the fact that he couldn't look at her, Buffy assumed it was something that he really wanted, but equally didn't want to admit.

Swallowing her apprehensions, she agreed, "I'll do it."

His head instantly shot up, and he searched her eyes for teasing but found none. "You mean it?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, unconvincingly. "I'll, uh… figure something out."

Spike was thrilled, then he let it sink in. "Guess the poet is still alive and kicking in me somewhere," he said. "I'm a ponce, ain't I?"

"You're a dope," she replied. "And I wouldn't have you any other way."

They were about to kiss when suddenly there was clapping. Both looking up, startled, they found Andrew staring at them – looking elated. "I always knew you two crazy kids would work it out," he said, "So adorable!"

Buffy was furious, "Did you just walk in here?"

"Yeah," he answered, unfazed - having not noticed the threat in the rhetorical question - "Door was unlocked. You should really watch that."

Spike growled, and Buffy had to put a hand on his arm to silently remind him to be good.

"Andrew," she said, firmly. "That is not okay. We could have been... well, we could have been baking!"

The anger drained from her finance, as laughter bubbled up within him.

"Baking?" he balked.

"Baking," she repeated, with a glare.

"Yeah, right. Baking," Spike donned his faux serious face. "Walk in here once while we're pouring sprinkles and it'll be the last thing you do."

Andrew's brow furrowed, not really understanding the references. "Hey, do you guys wanna go sightseeing?"

"No," the couple replied in unison.

"Oh," the boy pouted. "Well let's catch up here then," he said, pulling out a stool at the kitchen counter and plopping himself down, "How's things?"

"Were fine until you came round," Spike mumbled, but Buffy tried to be a little more diplomatic.

"I've got a week off," she said. "Was hoping to spend some alone time with Spike. Alone."

"That's nice," said Andrew. "I was hoping to spend some time with Giles. Wanted him to give me more one-on-one Watcher training, but he's busy with his girlfriend. Did you know Dawn's applying to colleges back in the US?"

Buffy's eyes were wide with astonishment, "How does your brain work?"

"Clearly doesn't, luv," said Spike. "Think it's time you left, wanker-junior."

"Don't you mean watcher-jun- hey! Hands off the tweed," Andrew protested as Spike guided him to the door. "Wouldn't have had to deal with this kind of manhandling if you still had your chip!"

Slam. The door shut in his face, and Spike returned to Buffy who was still looking perturbed.

"She's applying to colleges back home? Did you know?"

"No," he said, pulling her into a comforting embrace. "Makes sense, though, I suppose."

"Yeah. I just didn't think. Spike! She could be going to the other side of the world without us in like six months!"

"Doesn't have to be without us," he replied. "You've been itching for Californian sands yourself. Ah – no," he stopped her protest before she could even finish opening her mouth. "Don't deny it. Think I wouldn't figure it out?"

"I like our life here," she said.

"Yeah, but you'd like it more back there."

It wasn't a question, but Buffy felt the need to explain herself.

"I don't want to keep moving around. Want to be settled."

"I know, luv. Had to come back here when we got together didn't we? Couldn't drag Dawn back over there in the middle of an important school year. But if she wants to go now then there's nothing to say we wouldn't be just as settled on y'r home turf."

"Hmm… I don't know, Spike. It's a big decision. We don't need to make it today, right?"

"Right," he affirmed. "We'll talk it out with Niblet later. Never know – she may be wanting to get an ocean between us; could be the appeal."

"Funny," she said, sarcastically, but her mood had lightened. "Gah! What is wrong with Andrew. It's like he's got no filter on his mouth!"

"'s exactly what it is, luv," said Spike. "Now, what's the order of the day?"

Buffy thought for a minute or two before pulling a note off the fridge.

"Laundry – oh, but we'll need to buy more powder first. And we're out of eggs. It's trash day too."

Spike pointed to the clock, "Think that ship has sailed."

Day two of the remainder of Buffy's week off with Spike involved nothing but couple time. The first half of day three was spent sleeping, so as to recover from day two, while the second half had Spike driving all through London to find a dump for their mounting trash.

Day four was a wedding planning day, and day five had them spending the day in bed again. Then it was two more weeks of work before the big day.

In her new role as office manager, Buffy had the power to hire and fire people, and she set about her first task of abusing that power to give Spike a job.

It lasted three hours.

"What the hell happened?" she shouted at him, unable to believe her eyes.

His fist was covered in blood, and there was suspiciously fist-sized hole in the computer monitor.

"It wasn't my fault!" he pleaded. "There was a demon in it; acted on instinct."

Buffy raised her eyebrows at his mention of the supernatural in earshot of muggles, and pulled him aside to tend to his wounds and – hopefully – get the full story.

"Let me get this straight," she said, kneading her temples, "Someone sent you a link through the internal messenger, which of course you clicked without thinking about, you watch a nice little video with a screamer at the end and you punch the state of the art touch screen computer so hard that there's also a lovely little dent in the wall behind it? That about sum it up?"

"Well, uh… I guess," he admitted, looking guilty. "How was I supposed to know it was a joke? Bloody poor excuse for one if you ask me!"

Buffy rolled her eyes. There was no use staying mad at him. Was no way he could have known any better, but that wasn't gonna wash with her superiors.

"I'm gonna have to fire you, y'know."

"I know," he said, before apologizing – again – and then trying to kiss her.

"No, Spike! You can't do that here. I'm a professional!"

"Fine," he said, pouting. "I'll grab my stuff. See you at home."

"See you at home," she repeated, with a sigh.

Later Buffy came home covered top to toe in black ink, and it was his turn to ask her what happened.

"You know that printer I jokingly said was possessed?" she asked.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Was actually possessed."

To be continued...