Essence Of The Heart
Restive Nature
Rated NC-17
Chapter Nineteen
The Memory Slides
Buffy awoke with a gasp. Her dream, the dream that had been sustaining her these past few years with hope, a future, had been taken from her. It had all been a lie. Her eyes fluttered shut as she squeezed back the tears threatening to spill. She carefully covered her mouth with her the hand not resting on Spike’s hand. She dared not tense up, knowing after their last emotional upheaval, he’d be more sensitive to her, physically. It had happened to them before. When problems so insurmountable had kept them from slumber, the other usually knew. But she didn’t want to get back into it with Spike tonight, or rather this morning. They’d already said too much. Talking wouldn’t help now. And despite what Spike had said earlier, Buffy was still carrying some guilt over her inability to conceive. Until they figured it out, she always would.
But having this dream shattered, lying broken at her feet was too exhausting. And in typical irrational fashion, Buffy slid from the bed, moving carefully to assure that Spike wouldn’t wake. He grunted lowly, but pulled the hand that she’d been caressing in her sleep to rest on his abdomen and continued to sleep. Buffy bit back a sigh and slipped on her thick robe. She hastily shoved her feet into the slippers peeking out from under the dust ruffle. She crept from the room and paused at the door next to her own. Her hand hovered over the doorknob before reason kicked in, informing her that a breakdown in the room next to her sleeping fiancé was almost as bad as a breakdown in the same room. With a lingering caress on the solid wood, she continued down to the steps, easily avoiding the slightly squeaky boards that existed.
The house was cool in the pre-dawn moments as a breeze continued to blow in from the ocean, making it’s way through the neighborhood to sweep up those tiny remnants of civilized life from where it was scattered. Buffy roamed through the main floor, finding nothing to distract her, until she began to worry that she might disrupt Dawn with her treading pace in the living room. After all, she was right above Dawn’s room. But the effort of returning to her room and dressing to leave the house was a bit extreme in her mind. The sun was almost up; there would be nothing to distract her out there either. But as Buffy slid along the linoleum in the kitchen, she realized that there was too little room for her to maneuver in. So she finally settled on a compromise and slipped out the French doors of the living room. She followed the narrow wooden plank walkway to the deck in the back. The solid plastic deck chairs were slightly damp to the touch, again courtesy of the ocean breeze.
Buffy shivered slightly as she sat, knowing it was from the aftermath of her world being topsy-turvy yet again. But she stubbornly brushed it off, attributing it to the dew surrounding her. She pulled her feet up under her, instinctively huddling in on herself to conserve what little body heat she had left. Her head drifted to the right, trying to find comfort from the unyielding man made product. She stared out at the backyard, biting her lip. Would it ever be more than just the grass and the tree, full of sunlight that had no more use than to keep things growing? Would it ever be full of laughter, birthday parties, toys, a swing set? Her and Spike rolling around the ground, playing with their child?
Buffy swallowed heavily, wanting to curse. This train of thought was sure to drive her to madness. And she’d already been there. It wasn’t a pretty picture. Remembering that time, when a demon had infected her, making her believe that her entire life was a lie and that in "reality" she was in a mental institution, having created a superhero persona to compensate for something missing in her life. It was a strange theory. So much of her life having been based on fiction. Untruths. No matter how you looked at it, a lot of her life was a lie in and of itself. The most glaringly obvious was Dawn. She had no sister. Just as she had no child. Buffy squirmed a little. ‘At least I never held a baby in my arm, comforted it when it got scared, told it I loved…’ but she had. For all that they were dreams; they were in fact representations of the time she had spent in Heaven. Where she did in fact hold Connor in her arms, telling him that she loved him. And every dream after that, she’d held him and said those words, told him of her life. Shared a part of herself with him that she kept back from the majority of the world.
With a sour taste in her mouth, her thoughts finally centered on Connor. It was almost laughable now. She should have known. She did know. The knowledge was planted in her so deeply that it took concentrated thought to bring it forth. She knew the truth about Connor. How Darla had staked herself to give birth to him. How Angel had loved him, cared for him, until Holtz had stolen him away. She even had what Angel did not. Knowledge of Connor’s life when he became Steven in Quor-toth. And of when he returned, seventeen, angry and looking to destroy what had caused his pain in the first place. Buffy’s face screwed up in distaste as the memory of Connor with Cordelia flitted through her mind.
‘If seeing it in your head is bad, think about poor Cordy,’ Buffy chastised herself. ‘She actually had to live it.’ She sat up a little straighter. Did she really just think that? She felt sorry for Cordelia? ‘Well it’s not like she chose to come back to earth with her body inhabited by an evil demon bent on ruling the known world in it’s gory obsession.’ Buffy snickered softly at herself. Getting a handle on maturity was such a strange path sometimes. But it helped. Just a little, knowing that other people’s lives were just as screwed up as hers. But then her mind insistently led her back to Connor. And to how she knew these things. All the times that she had dreamt of him with her in Heaven, they’d been sharing their lives. Bonding with one another. Her eyes widened as she realized that that was how Connor had known about Dawn’s new job. She had told him, the baby version that she carried with her in that state of deepening awareness in her dreams.
She knew that it was this demon inhabiting Cordy that led to Angel’s decision to give up his son. It was strange how all those memories and feelings existed in her, yet the memories also allowed for his made-up life as well. She clearly had memories of his life, as he knew it now. His parents, his sister, meeting Alyssa. It was only recently that things had begun to fade out, to slide away. Buffy mused on the strangeness of containing the two lives. Almost as if Connor were two separate people with one life snuffed out at the tender age. In a way, Connor/ Steven had died and paved a way for this new Connor. Buffy could not begrudge him the new memories. It was something she herself had yearned for, the comfort of a home full of family and normalcy. Her eyes widened as she realized what Angel had given up for his son. He had found a way to fulfill his son’s greatest wish at cost to himself. And when he was in the depth of despair, as much as she didn’t like to admit it, he had been, he’d been saved. Max had saved him. And now he had Eva to show for it. A soft smile lit her face. ‘Here’s my despair. Someone wanna pull me up?’
*****
Spike woke slowly; blinking in the face of the sunlight that crept into the eastern facing window of their room. The slight chill he felt on his backside told him that Buffy had already risen. And given the previous evening’s mood, he wasted no time in rising as well. He pulled a pair of jeans from the dresser and yanked them on. He left the room, not bothering to button them up yet as he did. He made a quick pit stop in the bathroom before heading downstairs. His cursory glance about the lower rooms showed nothing, and it was only the glint of the sun reflecting off her gloriously bright hair that attracted his attention to the kitchen window. He smiled, grateful that she was still there. But he should have known better. Buffy was not one to run away physically in most cases, unless forced to. Mentally maybe. She could drown in denial city when she wanted to. He wondered if the thought had entered into her mind at any point recently. And then her harsh words about them getting married replayed themselves in his mind. Okay, so that was an option he needed to be aware of. On a purely intelligent level, he realized that it was a reaction to what was happening in their life. It was not a reflection of what she felt, or did not feel for him.
That was the thought that he kept foremost in his mind as he set the coffeepot to percolate. He glanced at her often, wondering how he should approach her. Many tacks were thought over and then discarded. He really didn’t need to plot how to give her a kiss, he decided. He just needed to go out and do it. But there was a little hesitation on his part. He, like Buffy had no intention of continuing their little scene from the evening before. They needed time to work through the issues they still had before attacking them head on. So he did what he did for the simple fact that it was a necessary part of their day. He made breakfast.
It was the smell of the coffee that brought Buffy out of her stupor. She rubbed at her eyes, then stretched, her feet sweeping out to catch at the rays peeping around the houses. She sniffed again, then turned in the chair. The smell was definitely coming from their house. She watched for a moment until she saw Spike’s face peek out at her from the kitchen window. He smiled hesitantly at her and she let her own smile answer him. The smile on his face grew to a grin and he held up a mug. She nodded and he disappeared from sight. A moment later, she heard the French door slide open and then shut and his bare feet made their way to her. As he came around the corner, her eyes lit up as her stomach rumbled, taking in the smell that now accompanied the strong flavor of the Columbia roast he’d prepared. Quickly, Buffy dragged the small plastic table that matched the chairs closer to her. She was about to get up and grab another chair for him to sit in, but he managed to set the tray down and catch her before she could go far.
"Mornin’ luv," he whispered.
"Good morning," she whispered back. The strange lull upon them was too sweet to be broken by loud noises. And feeling his arms so surely around her prompted her to stay. Spike dropped his head and brushed a light kiss across the corner of her mouth. Buffy pulled back slowly and nudged him towards the chair she’d been resting in. His look of surprise made her grin, even more so when she arranged herself in his lap, swinging her legs over the arm of the chair. She pulled the tray he’d prepared a little closer and grabbed both mugs present. He took his from her as he settled an arm around her waist. She held her mug between her hands for a moment, letting the heat soothe her and then took a sip. She grimaced as the heat burned down her throat. Spike set his cup back on the table, his free hand moving to pull the now gaping robe around her legs.
"Should’ve brought a blanket out with me, I suppose," he murmured.
"I’m fine," she shrugged, snuggling into his still warm body. "Sun’s up. It’ll warm up out here soon."
"Well eat up," he instructed. "That’ll help."
"Ooh," she grinned, taking in the food. "Rolls, bacon, strawberries even. When did we get strawberries?"
"Oh gee," he smirked. "Would that have been when we were at the grocery store, buying food?"
"Oh shut up," she giggled, reaching for one. "I forgot, is all."
"Well don’t hog them," Spike chuckled, reaching for one himself, only to have his hand lightly smacked back. "If you do, I don’t think this chair will hold."
"Are you implying that I’m fat?" Buffy gasped good-naturedly. Spike just raised a solitary eyebrow. "It’s not me, you know. It’s that super ego of yours that’s putting strain on this thing."
"You love my ego and you know it," he teased. Buffy rolled her eyes, then tilted her head, as if to think it over.
"Yup, that I do," she said at last. And then as he laughed even more, shoved a small strawberry into his mouth. The laughter broke off suddenly as he was forced to chew or choke. It was followed by a lingering kiss.
Over breakfast and coffee, the pair took the much-needed opportunity to bond again with one another. Both determined to let nothing of the previous days interfere. They stayed away from hurtful topics, trying and succeeding in reaffirming their need for one another beyond the sexual capacity. For once, it wasn’t difficult.
It was a happy sight for Dawn, when she finally trudged outside. She’d been living on the edge of the tension for days now. And while it was nothing like the maelstrom of pain her sister and friend dealt with, it was enough to throw her happy little world a-kilter. She leaned against the corner of the house, taking them in, until another yawn broke it’s way through to her face. After, she stretched up, arms in the air to her full height. Buffy and Spike looked up from yet another kiss and grinned at her.
"You know guys," she muttered, blinking rapidly to try and force the remnants of sleep from her eyes, "I don’t think that chair is going to hold." Gales of laughter were her only answer.
*****
Buffy waved to her fiancé, as she was about to enter the mall, heading for work. Since he’d been up early with her and had no intentions of going back to bed, he’d offered her and Dawn rides to school and work. Which they both gratefully accepted. They’d dropped Dawn off first, so she could meet her friends at the coffeehouse before her first class started. Buffy watched a moment until Spike finally pulled away from the curb, wondering idly how he was going to spend his day. But all too quickly, she was caught up in the whirl of customers, books to be put out and her boss’ enquiring glances. After the first swirl of early morning shoppers had been dealt with, Janet, the assistant manager asked for Buffy’s help sorting out the new magazines that had come in. While Janet sorted them, it was Buffy’s job to collect the magazines that they normally held back for their regulars.
The blonde Slayer had to hold back a laugh as she took up the list and began piling new copies of everything from golfing, to cooking to weaponry. Especially since Angel Investigations seemed to be at the top of the Antique Weaponry list. After she was done that, she’d call to remind the customers that their orders were in. Combined with the recent order of specially ordered, hard to find books that they dealt with, it would be a long morning of being on the phone.
"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless," the brunette Seer chirped out the overly familiar tagline of their company.
"Hey Cordy," Buffy grinned into the receiver. "It’s Buffy."
"Oh hi," Cordy had long ago lost the edge to her tone when she spoke to her former high school nemesis. "What can I do for you?"
"I was just calling to let Wes know that his magazine is in," Buffy informed her. She heard the low, aggrieved sigh and chuckled. "Not that kind of magazine!"
"Oh! Well okay," Cordy giggled at her little faux pas. "I’ll tell him. I’m sure somebody will be by to pick it up."
"All right," Buffy nodded, even though the other woman couldn’t see her. She checked Wes’ name on the list. "I’d talk more, but I have a ton of other customers to call."
"Okay then," Cordy didn’t sound aggrieved. She was probably busy as well. "I’ll let you go. Thanks for calling."
"No problem," Buffy replied and then hung up the phone, already looking to the next number on her list.
And as promised, Cordy did send someone to pick up the magazine. It just wasn’t Wes as she’d expected. Angel tried to hide a grin at her surprise when she’d moved to the front counter to help the customer waiting, only to find it was he.
"Angel!" she squeaked, even though she shouldn’t be surprised. He’d always managed to sneak up and do this to her, for all her Vamp detection sense. But then again, he was no longer a Vampire. "What are you doing here?"
"Cordelia ordered me out of the office," he shrugged. "Apparently I was annoying her."
Buffy cocked her head to the side, her eyes twinkling. "Why do I find that not hard to believe?"
"Women," he snorted lightly. "You’re all the same."
"Hence the all encompassing title of ‘women’," she rolled her eyes at him. He grinned and waved a hand dismissively.
"So this is where you work?" he mused rhetorically. "No wonder Wes and Giles were over the moon for you."
"Mm-hmm," the blonde nodded as she turned to dig through the small pile of magazines, having realized her friend’s purpose. "They were almost happier than I was to be among all these lovely books." She finally found the correct periodical and turned back to ring it up for him. Her hand flew over the computerized till, the action so ingrained that she no longer had to think about it.
"Well, as long as you like it," Angel nodded. She grinned up at him, then recited the amount due. He dug around in his pocket for his wallet and handed her an appropriate bill. She continued the transaction, handing him back his change and deftly bagging the purchase, adding a complimentary bookmark like they had been instructed to. "Oh hey," Angel snapped his fingers after putting his wallet away. "I hope you don’t mind, but Max and I picked up a little something for you while we were away. Kind of a housewarming gift."
"Why would I mind?" Buffy chuckled. "You know me and presents. What is it?" she asked habitually, then grimaced, already knowing his answer. "I know, I know. I have to wait and see."
"Actually, I was going to say that it’s a painting," Angel chuckled. "Did you want to stop by the hotel and pick it up?"
"I suppose I could do that," Buffy bit her lip a moment. "Or hey! Why don’t you guys bring it over? You could come for dinner one of these nights. See the house and all that jazz. You haven’t seen the house, have you?" she asked suspiciously, suddenly remembering that Max and Angel had been in on that particular surprise.
"That sounds nice," he murmured as he shook his head in the negative to her query, wondering about what he might be getting them all into by agreeing. "I think we’re free tonight."
"That would work," Buffy agreed, "seeing how Spike has to work the rest of the week."
"Okay," he tapped one hand lightly on the counter. "I’ll have to see about a babysitter, but I think we can manage it."
"Oh don’t," Buffy shook her head. "Eva’s totally welcome too. In fact, I think Dawn would happily murder you if you didn’t bring her." Angel smiled at the thought. "About six-thirty, seven then?"
"Sounds good." He paused a moment. "I’ll call if anything changes though." Buffy giggled, knowing how quickly plans could get turned around when dealing with the things they all dealt with popped up unexpectedly. They said goodbye and Buffy moved off to help the next customer. When she had a break, she called Spike to let him know about their guests for the evening.
*****
Even though she wanted to make a good impression, Buffy knew better than to attempt anything too fancy for dinner. So she fell back on an old standby of her mother’s, spaghetti and meatballs. She figured that it would at least be fun for Eva to get messy in. Connor always liked to at that age. She shook that thought from her head as she continued to prepare the meal, directing Spike as he tidied up the living room. He’d been slightly quiet since she’d arrived home. She rightly attributed it to having to spend more than a few minutes at a time with Angel. But she figured that when he got tired of verbally sparring with the other man, he could find relief talking to Max or playing with Eva. And Dawn would be there too to help with the tension. The teen had arrived home from class, relieved that she didn’t have to work and amused that Buffy had ensured that they’d have an infant to play with and practice on for the evening.
The O’Connor’s arrived promptly at six-thirty. Spike let them in, backing out of Angel’s way as he brought in the large, wrapped package. Buffy had neglected to mention that they were bringing a gift. The larger man set it in the entryway as Max carried their daughter, collapsible playpen and diaper bag in. Spike closed the door behind her, already making funny faces at the little girl. She giggled gleefully and squirmed to be free of her mother’s hold. Spike held his arms out as the dark-haired woman gratefully handed her over. Spike carried the girl into the living room while Angel assisted his wife with the playpen, setting it up close to the French doors in an empty corner of the room. Buffy emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands off on a towel.
"Hey Max, Angel," she greeted softly, tamping down the little surge of sadness at seeing the child in Spike’s arms. She moved purposefully towards them, stopping behind her fiancé to play a moment with the girl. Eva smiled widely down at her, from her position over Spike’s shoulder.
"Hey Buffy," Max greeted absently as she carefully upended the diaper bag contents into the playpen. Toys spilled out, along with hygiene paraphernalia. Max deftly scooped up the diapers, wipes and lotion and returned them to the bag. "You might want to put her in there quickly, lest she destroy your home."
"Aw," Dawn cooed, "she’s too little to destroy stuff…isn’t she?"
"She’s the daughter of a transgenic," Max chuckled. "She’s nearly walking, she has teeth, intelligence, curiosity and her daddy wrapped around her pinkie. Yeah, I say she could bring the house down around our ears in about a half hour." The group laughed and after a moment Eva laughed as well. Spike set her in the playpen and the tot’s attention was turned to the myriad of bright colors surrounding her.
"So, did you guys want the tour?" Buffy inquired politely. Max and Angel nodded and followed after her and Spike. "Dawn? Could you stir the sauce?"
"Sure thing," her sister called back. They traipsed up the steps but Max paused when she heard the suddenly abandoned child cry out in frustration. Buffy held her hand out.
"Dawn’ll get her," she assured the other woman. And a moment later, they heard her.
"Hey little one," Dawn chirped brightly. "Did they leave you all alone? What’cha got there?"
"Baa!" Eva yelled. Angel grinned. Their daughter was always happy when she had someone to pay attention to her. Placing one hand on the small of his wife’s back, he gestured with the other to continue.
The tour didn’t take long. They ended up in the basement as Dawn had given permission for them to invade her space if they so desired. As they made their way back upstairs, Buffy moved to the kitchen and Max followed. "I wasn’t sure what Eva could eat, so I made spaghetti," she offered to the brunette. Max shrugged mirthfully.
"So far the little scamp seems to like everything," she grinned. "Except peas. Huh? Go figure." She watched as Buffy added the noodles to the now boiling water, then stirred the homemade sauce once more, making sure that it was set to simmer still. Dawn had already set the table, so all that was left was to wait for the pasta. "Angel won’t like it though," Max chuckled at Buffy’s sudden concerned glance. "It’s his turn to feed her tonight. Eva and tomato sauce…"
"Not a good mix?" Buffy laughed as Max nodded. "He’ll just have to deal."
"A woman after my own heart," Max sighed lightly. She’d had her reservations about this evening. She and Buffy hadn’t gotten off to a good start. Especially when her head had been filled in by so many versions by different people of what Buffy was like. Naturally Cordy didn’t have much good to say about her, but eventually admitted that there was always a competitive rivalry between them. Wes regarded Buffy as a complex tool that he didn’t quite figure out how to use during his tenure as her Watcher. But his respect for her grew after he lost his naivete about the world in which they lived. Her father, Giles had been full of praise for the blonde Slayer, but was well aware of the weakness behind the bastion of preternatural strength the woman presented to the world. And Willow, well Willow was the best friend. One who had defended her friend through thick and thin. So Max took the prudent route and discarded the majority of what she’d been told and decided to get to know the other woman herself. So, when Angel had told her about the invitation, she accepted it with very few qualms. Besides, she still had business with Spike.
They moved into the living room just as Angel was presenting the painting to Spike. "I hope you guys like it. If you don’t, well, I’m sure we can find something else."
"What he means is that I picked it out and bought it before he knew and he wasn’t sure it was appropriate," Max offered dryly with a smirk. The other couple just looked at them strangely for a moment. And then Spike held it straight while Buffy pulled away the loose gift-wrapping. She stepped back and sighed in appreciation. She’d always thought that Angel had good taste in art and apparently that extended to Max as well.
"It’s gorgeous," she murmured. Dawn nodded her agreement and then moved to hold the painting so that Spike could see it properly. He came around to Buffy’s side and gasped audibly as he took in the seascape with the tiny village depicted in the distance.
"That’s…" he muttered, his face screwed up in recognition.
"Yeah," Angel nodded. "I wasn’t sure if you would remember."
"What honey?" Buffy asked, a little worried. She glanced between the two men, as they silently recalled a moment of their mutual former lives.
"It was in Ireland," Angel finally offered. "We went back there after Spike joined us."
"Oh, bad memories?" Dawn asked, catching on to his unspoken words immediately. Memories from when the foursome of the Order of Aurelius were rampaging.
"Not really," Spike sighed. "Just unexpected." He glanced at Angel and the taller man nodded imperceptibly. Angel was completely ready to take it back if it bothered the couple too much.
"Well I like it!" Buffy spoke up happily, wrapping an arm around her lover.
"You do?" Spike and Angel asked together.
"Yup," she confirmed. She glanced around. "What? Did you think that I would feel threatened by a reminder of a past girlfriend?" she scoffed and the immediate guilt on their faces told her that that was it exactly. "Oh please! Spike and I already worked through that." She paused a moment as an impish impulse took hold. "All except for Tony," she murmured as she wiped a pretend tear away from the corner of her eye. Her other hand pressed up to her throat, as if she were trying to choke back a sob. "That one hurts."
"Tony?" Angel queried suspiciously. He’d never heard of a girl named Tony from Spike’s past. But given the nature of his and Spike’s relationship for the past century that was hardly surprising.
"Buffy," Spike growled warningly, yet his tone playful.
"Who’s Tony?" Dawn asked, her eyes wide. She as well had thought she’d known about Spike’s past.
"Tony…well, he broke my heart when he went after Spike," Buffy sighed, holding back the laughter that threatened to erupt.
"He?" Angel sputtered as Max laughed. Buffy realized at once that Max hadn’t jumped to conclusions like Dawn and Angel had. Probably because she had a gender bending name herself. Not that Angel for a guy was any better.
"Luv," Spike growled again. He ran one hand through his platinum locks as he tried to ignore Angel’s slightly disgusted look, but the grin she was trying to hide appealed to him. "It wasn’t like that at all luv. You know that Tony and I were just a one-time thing. He could never shake his thing as well as you do! You know that!" Angel continued to sputter, unable to believe what he was hearing. Until he realized that the couple was laughing at him.
"Okay," he chuckled, able to laugh at himself, all ready to leap to Buffy’s defense, even though it was highly inappropriate. He glanced at his wife, relieved to see that she wasn’t upset by his instinctive reaction. "I’ve got to hear this one."
"Me too," Dawn piped up, blushing a little as the full implication of the male name settled on her. Buffy giggled once more and squirmed from Spike’s grasp.
"I have to check supper. But go ahead and tell them Spike."
"Well see, it was like this," the blonde male began. "I had just got off work and came home, wanting nothing more than a hot shower…"
*****
Dinner progressed nicely. Buffy had been right about Dawn and Eva being the great tension breakers. The teen babbled on about college life. And Max had been right about Angel. He was not overly impressed at being saddled feeding his child the cut up, sauce covered spaghetti. Eva enjoyed everything though. Spike enjoyed her aim, even if he did get a little splattered on impact. It was all going swimmingly, until dessert, when Max finally brought up a point from months before.
"So Spike," she began casually. "When are we going on our little date?" Her laugh was drowned out by four angry voices yelling "What!?!" in concert. "Oh, should I not have phrased it that way?" she asked artfully. She tilted her head to the side and looked up at the ceiling. "Perhaps I meant to say, our little entrepreneurial exercise?"
Spike sat back a moment, heedless of Buffy’s simmering glare as he tried to recall when he might have made a date with Max. And then it came to him. "Oh right. That!" he chuckled.
"What that?" Buffy demanded, her fingers tightly gripping the fork she was seriously debating stabbing into her fiancé’s hand. Angel wasn’t too much different, although he had to be gentler, as it was his daughter he was holding.
"It was just after the wedding," Max supplied.
"Nothin’ bad" Spike broke in quickly. Angel frowned at him, but Buffy appeared caught up for a moment, until she turned to Spike and smacked him lightly on the arm.
"You’re going gambling!" she snarked at him. "What did I tell you about that?" she demanded huffily. "Spike we don’t have the money for you to be gambling."
"Not my money luv," he answered smoothly.
"Yeah," Max chimed in. "I still owe him fifty bucks."
"Okay, that’s fine," Buffy agreed easily. "But that still doesn’t explain why Spike would try to go gamble with it."
"Not me," he grinned widely, pointing across the table. "Her." Buffy looked at Max, then at Spike and realized that once again, she’d jumped to a dumb conclusion. Well, not so dumb when one took into consideration Spike’s former vices. At least he wouldn’t need kittens this time.
"Okay, Max wants to gamble," Buffy sighed. "But why would you go?"
"For the weddin’ luv," he smiled shyly. "Gotta pay for it somehow." Her face softened visibly and she nodded.
"You should go too Buff," Dawn chimed in pertly. "You need a night out."
"No, that’s okay Dawn," she tried to deny. But Dawn was right. She hadn’t been out and about since her last Friday evening with the girls from work, which was a while ago, since she’d begged off the last few weeks.
"And Angel could go too," Dawn continued loudly, overriding her sister’s protests. "And I could baby-sit." Max laughed again as the teen’s eyes lit up. She turned to her husband.
"That could be fun," she implored. He stared down into her eyes for a moment, helpless against her sincerely entreating gaze.
"All right," he sighed, giving in. He’d thought dinner was going to be tough, but it had gone fairly well. What was another night? "When would we go?"
"Saturday night would be the obvious choice," Dawn answered quickly. "You could pick Spike up after he gets done work and head out. I don’t have to work until Sunday afternoon, so I’m free."
"You’ve got this all figured out, don’t ya Nibblet," Spike grinned at his little sister. She nodded smartly.
"Okay," Buffy agreed. "Saturday it is." She glanced around at the others nodding their consensus.
"Well, since that’s settled," Dawn chirped. "My rate is ten dollars an hour, snacks included."
"Dawn!"
Back To Bliss
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