Author's Chapter Notes:
Since Valentine's Day is coming up, this story kind of chewed on my ass until I wrote it. Since I will be alone for V-(cursed) Day, this is my twist on it.
Spike sighed as he twirled the strand of hearts hanging down from the Magic Box's ceiling. “Hate this bloody holiday,” he muttered. He grimaced and plopped down and the table farthest from the door. Dru used to love it. She used to bring him a bright red heart every year. Sometimes it would still be warm. As if she wasn't crazy enough, the bloody day would drive her right out of her gourd. For hours, she'd spout nothing but sights that only herself could see. None would make sense really, not that he had paid attention.

Crossing his feet, he decided to wait till the bloody lovebirds on the streets went home. Not that he didn't mind the public coping of feels. He enjoyed the voyeurism just fine. But he swore to himself, if he saw one more bloke propose he was going to bite someone. Chip or no.

As Giles exited the training room, he paused. “Oh. Spike. What are you doing here?”

Spike sighed and waved his hand towards the entrance. “Getting away from all the figuratively bleeding hearts.”

Giles paused and slid his hands into his pockets. “I was about to have a drink. You want?”

Spike, mildly surprised by his offer, gobbed for a second. “Yeah...sure. All by your lonesome too?”

Giles sighed and pulled his stash from under the counter. “You know, I just can't stand this holiday. Thanksgiving...I can understand. Family. Easy enough to understand. I usually ignore this atrocious holiday. It almost forces you to be with someone just for that one day.”

Nodding his head to him, Spike accepted his drink. “Yeah, also being the fact that Thanksgiving started with a slaughtering of millions of people, I still pick it.” Downing his drink, he slid it across the table to the Watcher.

Giles downed his own shot and winced. “Whomever invented this holiday needs to be drawn and quartered.” He slid Spike's glass back to him.

Nodding his head in agreement, he downed his second shot and clunked his glass on the table.

“Oh thank Almighty! Mind sharing?”

The two men turned towards the counter, surprised as Anya hurried around the cash register. Grabbing a small tumbler off the shelf, she headed towards their table. Plopping herself down, she grabbed the container of bourbon, filling her glass to the top. Sighing, she sent both men a bright smile and began to chug.

“Anya, I didn't know you were still here,” commented Giles.

Anya held up a finger and continued to drink. Breathing through her nose, she swallowed down to the last drop before she put down her glass. Sighing, she began to refill it. Sending Giles an irritated look, she frowned. “Of course I'm still here! I hate Valentine's Day! Do you know how many people break up on Valentine's Day?” Shaking her head, she pushed the container back to the two men. “Even after all these years, I still don't understand it. It's supposed to be a day of love and commitment. Instead people just tear out each other's hearts and stomp on them.” Looking sadly down into her glass, she sighed. “I never had a Valentine's Day until Xander, and then...” Petering off, she began sipping her drink.
Giles and Spike sent each other terrified looks, as if they wanted to run. Grabbing the container, Giles refilled his own and then pushed it to Spike. “Well, what did you do when you were a vengeance demon?” he asked. Getting her away from the thought of Xander was imperative.

Anya gave a small smile and watched as the men shifted uncomfortably. “I was a busy girl. Up until my humanization, Valentine's Day was our busiest time. Never could get a break. Sad women everywhere, wishing heartbroken things. I never understood why they put themselves through it. It seemed pointless. Until....then I finally understood. But instead of wishing, I'm going to get drunk! Maybe then I can stand all those sappy humans with hearts in their eyes.”

Spike hiccuped a little and filled his glass again. “I'm right behind you in that department love.”

“Hear, hear,” murmured Giles.

Clinking their glasses together, they began to demolish the bourbon supply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sighing, Buffy pushed the Magic Box door open and was greeted by a sight that she thought she'd never see. Giles, Anya, and Spike were falling out of their seats laughing. As Giles leaned across the table towards Spike, she the empty decanter.

They were drunk.

No, they were more than drunk. They were plastered. Even Spike! She figured with his vampire constitution that he really couldn't get that drunk. Well, guess she'd been wrong about that too.

Crossing her arms, she tapped her foot on the carpet, waiting for them to acknowledge her.

“I mean, I just could-n't believe he had done...that!” exclaimed Anya.

Spike howled and almost fell out of his chair.

“The sod actually danced?” he croaked.

Giles started giggling again and laid his head down on the table. “I-I do be-lieve I shall never be able to look that-that boy in the face again!”

Anya banged on the table. “No-no! You don't under-stood. It wasn't the dancing so much as the-the strrriiipping! I swear! The only rhythm that man has is with sex! Sex!”

Giles banged the table and Spike choked on his next swallow.

Sighing, Buffy held up her hand. “Um...hello? What's going on here?”

Giles looked up confused, then looked towards Anya. She shrugged and took another sip of her drink.

Spike perked right up. “ 'ello Pet!! How are you doin' this f-fine evenin'?”

Buffy approached their table and shook her head. “Mind if I join you?”

Something sparked in Spike's eyes. “Are you going to strip for us too?”

Giles groaned and buried his head.

Anya perked up as well. “I have some money in my purse!”

Rolling her eyes, Buffy looked towards the ceiling. “No. I'm not going to strip for you. A world of no.”

Waving his hand towards Giles, Spike hiccuped. “Yeah. Yeah, cuz that would be incestious. Also, kind of lesbinious too.”

Anya smiled. “I don't mind!”

Buffy sighed and looked to her Watcher. “Giles, you do realize that it's after midnight. How am I going to be sure that all of you get home?”

Giles looked affronted and waved his finger at her. “I can still stake—stook---I can still kill something!”

Spike frowned and went back for his cup. “Watcher's a grown man! He can take care of himself!”

“I can help him get home!” exclaimed Anya.

Buffy frowned. “You're as drunk as they are!”

Anya frowned. She looked down at her glass, then the decanter, then the two men. “I don't think that's true. They started before I did.” The men didn't dispute her, but picked up their glasses again.

Grabbing the glass out of Giles' hand, Buffy held it out of reach. “That's enough!”

Giles got to his feet, swaying a bit. “Now look here missy...I'm old enough to be your fat-her—supposed father. I can make my own decisions. If I want to drink, I'll bloody well drink!” Losing his balance, he fell back in his chair.

“Right on Watcher!” exclaimed Spike. Grabbing for her hand, he missed and caught her breast instead. Leaning heavily towards her, he squeezed and chuckled as Buffy pushed him away, sending him to the floor.

“Hey! Watch it grabby!” Eyeing him, she stepped away.

“I'm the Watcher here!” quipped Giles, causing the trio to bust out laughing again.

Stepping away, she placed Giles' drink on the counter. Approaching Spike, she pulled him up off the floor. Spike leered at her. Grimacing, she rolled her eyes and pushed him towards the door. “C'mon you guys. Time to go home and drink off the morning headaches.” Watching them closely, she helped them out the door. Not the most agile of drunks, Giles fought with Buffy over locking the door and ended on the sidewalk, staring up at the night sky.
“Remember!” whispered Spike loudly, “Be quiet!”

Anya followed that up with “Shhhh!”

Buffy groaned as Anya helped Giles to his feet. She watched until they tottered around the corner, then grabbed Spike's coat. “C'mon Spike.”

Throwing his arm around her shoulders, Spike leaned into her. “So where we goin'?”

Buffy pushed him away lightly but it didn't work. “I'm taking you home.”

Spike chuckled. “Home. I don't 'ave a home. Home's have mailboxes.” He fell silent for a minute. “Are we going to your home?”

Buffy looked at the sky and asked God 'why me?' “No Spike. I'm taking you to your home. The crypt.” Pulling him along, she blew out a breath as he groaned.

“I don' want to go there! It's boring! Telly doesn't work.” Sending her a hopeful look, he smiled. “Sure I can't go with you?”

Buffy groaned. Looking down the street, she thought about it. His crypt was still six blocks away. Her house was two. Dawn was spending the night at Marcie's and her mother was asleep. Maybe if they stayed quiet...

Taking a left turn, she grabbed his coat. “C'mon drunky. You can sleep in the basement.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Spike!” whispered Buffy.

Spike clutched the back of Buffy's jacket and kept talking. “I swear, that bastard wasn't any kind of loving. If people really knew how Valentine really was, they wouldn't have a bloody holiday for him. Was no kind of saint too! Should've killed him when I had the chance.” Tripping over the back step, he stumbled into her back.

Buffy fell into the door and sighed loudly. Pushing him back, she unlocked the door and opened it slowly. Spike crowded at her back, causing her tinglies to go off. Shivering softly, she walked softly into the kitchen. Pulling Spike in, she quietly shut the door. Facing him in the dark, she found him staring at her, smiling softly.

Spike leaned against the island and crossed his arms. Tilting his head slightly, he asked, “Your mum know I'm here?”

Buffy put her hand up for him to be quiet. “No. I already told you that.”

Spike giggled and closed his eyes. “Your mum...she's a real nice lady. I really like her. Never would've bitten her. No ma'am. She's nice.”

Buffy grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the basement door. “That's nice to hear Spike. Now please! Be quiet!”

“You be quiet,” he whispered.

Stumbling down the stairs behind her, he glanced around. “This is a big place. Should have more than just a cot.”

Buffy rolled her eyes as she went to the rack to get a sheet and pillows. “Yeah. Cuz we really need a queen sized bed in the laundry room.”

Spike jumped on top of the washer, banging his feet against the side. Buffy whirled on him with murder in her eyes. “You never know. I could spend the night sometime. All cozy like,” he whispered.

Throwing the bedding on the cot, she turned back towards the stairs. Glancing at the vampire, she saw that he was laying across the machine, along with the dryer. Mentally grabbing her hair, she turned back to the cot and began shaking out the linen.

Spike groaned and sat up. Seeing her bent over the cot, he hopped down and approached from behind. “Slayer I ever tell you....you've got a nice bum.”

Flying upwards, Buffy smacked into his chest. Grabbing his arm, she pushed him towards the cot. “Stop staring at my bum. Go to sleep.”

Spike pouted and nudged her leg with his boot. “I need help.”

Glaring at him, she put her hands on her hips. “With what?” Spike wiggled his foot at her again. Sighing, Buffy pushed him down on the cot and knelt at his foot. She missed the smile that crossed his face.

Buffy picked at his laces and pulled his shoe off. Sniffing absently, she was glad to notice that he didn't have smelly feet. Did vampires get smelly feet? Sure some vampires smelled but...

“Love you Buffy,” whispered Spike.

Buffy paused and looked up at him. He was staring at her, a tender expression on his face. “What?” she croaked.

Reaching out, he touched her hair. “Love you.”

Buffy pushed his hand away and went for his other foot. “Okay, that's the drink talking.”

Spike pffted and leaned forward. “Bullocks. I've loved you for a long time. Just couldn't tell you. Scared right git I was, I was afraid you'd stake me. Or worse, turn me down.”


Buffy raised pleading eyes to him. “Please Spike. Just go to sleep.” Leaning away, she stood. Turning away from him, she missed the hurt on his face.

Yelping loudly, she fell backwards as Spike grabbed her. “Hey! Wha--”
Spike held her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “One kiss. Just give me one kiss and I'll let you go.” Nuzzling her neck, he felt her shiver and did it again.

“Spike!” she croaked.

Licking the side of her neck, he whispered, “Just one kiss. It is Valentine's Day after all.”

Buffy huffed and grabbed for his hands. “I thought you said he was a bloody wanker!”

Spike smiled, rubbing her stomach. “Still a good reason to make out. C'mon Buffy, just one--” He lost his train of thought as Buffy turned around and grabbed his ears. Pulling him towards her, she planted one right on the mouth.

Pushing him away, she saw the stunned expression on his face and tried to break away. “Okay. There. One kiss. Now let me up!”

Spike chuckled. Pulling her closer, he rubbed his nose against hers. “Now I think we can do better than that.”

Cupping her cheek, he slowly rubbed his lips against hers. Swiping the tip of his tongue against her bottom lip, he nibbled softly. Buffy groaned and pulled him closer. Twisting in his embrace, she sat sideways on his lap. Rubbing her chest against his, she ran her fingers through the back of his hair and held him close. Moaning softly, she opened her mouth and met his tongue with hers. Pulling back softly, she nibbled on his lips. She almost couldn't believe she was doing this! Lips of Spike! How well she remembered this. It was great. His lips were so soft. His talented tongue picked up a rhythm against hers, stroking it softly. It was--

Spike.

Jerking back roughly, she tumbled out of his arms. Jumping up, she ran to the stairs, peeking over her shoulder. Spike sat there with a stunned, dreamy expression on his face.

“Spike?” she asked.

Shaking his head softly, he chuckled and closed his eyes. “Goodnigh' Slayer.”

Feeling uncomfortable and a little confused, she stuttered. “I-uh-yeah—night!” Turning around, she hightailed up the stairs. What had just happened? She had kissed Spike! Spike! Shaking her head wildly, she refused to admit that it was the best kiss she'd ever gotten.

Spike sighed as he heard her door close upstairs. Throwing the sheet over his chest, he laid down and closed his eyes. “Best Valentine's Day ever,” he murmured.





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