“Trust bloody Rupert to pick a restaurant where I have to wear a sodding suit and tie.”  Spike tugged angrily at the blue tie he’d failed to knot properly for the third time.  “Never could do this even when I could see what I was doing.”

Buffy strode over to him, placing her hands on his and taking them away from the tie.  “I’ll do it for you.  You’re going to throttle yourself if you’re not careful.”

“Least I wouldn’t have to go to dinner, if I succeeded.”

“Jeez, Spike.  I never knew a man who could pout as prettily as you do.”  Buffy’s voice was laden with mirth.  She reached up on tiptoe and kissed his lips.

“I don’t do anything prettily.  I’m a bloke, for God’s sake.”

“You’re so cute when you get like this.”  She began to re-knot the tie.

Batting her hands away, Spike said, “Cute?  It’s getting worse.”

“Quit it.”  Buffy gave him a poke in the belly. 

“Ow!”

“It hurt my fingers more than your abs, so just stand still so I can get this done.  If we’re late, your mom will never believe that it’s because of you and not me.”

Realising that the upcoming dinner would be even more of a trial for Buffy than it was for him, Spike did as he was told, mumbling, “Sorry.”

“Forgiven.”  Buffy kissed the tip of his nose and giggled when he squirmed.  “You look great.”

“I’d feel great if I was in my jeans,” Spike couldn’t help but say.

“We’ll get through this. I’m a nice person.  She’ll like me.”

Spike pulled her into his arms.  “I don’t care if she doesn’t.  I love you and nothing she can say or do will change that.  I just don’t want you to be upset by her, that’s all.”

Resting her head against his shoulder, but taking care not to get any of her soft pink lipstick on his shirt collar, Buffy sighed.  She’d never get tired of hearing him say that he loved her.  “I won’t be.  But it would be nice if we could get along.”

“I know, but she’s tricky.  She doesn’t get on with me half the time.  But Rupert’s great.  I know he’ll love you.”

Buffy cringed when she thought back to the day she’d turned up at Rupert’s house to apologise to Spike. 

“I hope so.”

Spike pushed her away until she was at arms’ length.  “He will.”  Leaning forwards, his lips found hers as surely as if he could see.  When they parted, he said, “I think we’d better get going.  Are you sure you want to drive?  We could easily take a taxi.”

“No.  I want to drive.  That way I have a good excuse not to drink any wine.  Drunken Buffy would so not help my cause.”

Laughing, Spike took her hand.  “That is so true.  So do I look okay?”

Buffy took in the charcoal grey suit, plain white shirt with the deep blue tie, now neatly knotted at the neck.  “You look gorgeous.”

“Tell me again what you’re wearing.  Start from the underwear out.”

“You’re so bad.”  They walked towards the door.  “I’ve got a pair of silk and lace panties in pale pink, a matching bra, and—”

“You better stop there, or I’ll be dragging you back to the sofa to have my evil way with you.”

“That is infinitely more appealing than trying to impress your mother, but I think we’d be in big trouble if we didn’t show.  Rupert might even cancel those tickets or bump us down to economy.”  She smiled, butterflies fluttering in her stomach at the thought of their impending vacation.  “I still can’t believe I’m going to be travelling first class.”

“The crafty old sod never even mentioned it when he gave me the envelope.  Bit sneaky that.”

“Nice sneaky though.”

Once they were driving to the restaurant, Buffy’s stomach churned this time with nerves and not the pleasant butterflies of earlier.  No matter what Spike said, she knew it would make things a lot easier for him if she could get Drusilla to like her, even a little bit.

Spike, sensing her feelings, reached out and placed his palm on her thigh, giving it a squeeze.  It was when he did things like that, that his lack of sight hit her.  If he could see, she would have just shot him a grateful look, but instead she touched his hand briefly with her own, acknowledging the comfort he offered.

Walking into the crowded interior of Sunnydale’s only high-class restaurant, Buffy glanced at Spike.  He held himself proudly as she guided him through the obstacle course of chairs and tables to be seated with his mother and step-father.  His white cane swayed to and fro, preventing him from tripping over people’s feet or extended chair legs.  Her heart swelled with pride.  He’d come so far in accepting his blindness.

Her smile dimmed when she saw Drusilla staring at her, but taking a leaf out of Spike’s book, she walked tall and didn’t allow his mother to faze her.

“Here you are!” said Rupert, standing as they got to the table.  A waiter helped Spike with his chair, whilst Rupert gave Buffy some assistance.  “It’s lovely to meet you again, my dear.”

“Hello, Mr. Giles.  Thank you for inviting me.”  She turned to Drusilla and smiled broadly.  “Hello, Spike tells me you do a lot of work for charity.”

“William,” said Drusilla coldly.  “His name is William.  I wish everyone would call him by it.”

“Darling…”

Dru impatiently waved her hand at Rupert.  “You’re just as bad.  You never call him by his given name any more.”

“Mum.  Drop it, yeah?  We’ve had this conversation way too many times, already.  Let’s not have it on my birthday, okay?  I like being called Spike.”

Buffy watched Drusilla’s expression carefully whilst Spike spoke and as the woman’s face softened, she realised with a jolt that Drusilla was afraid.  She was afraid of losing him.  His blindness had brought him back to her, and his new found independence threatened to take him away again.

“I’m sorry.”  Drusilla turned to Buffy.  “Rupert tells me you work in a shop – I still can’t get used to calling them stores, and I’ve been over here for years.”

“I own it, actually.”  Buffy knew Drusilla was aware of that fact from the way Rupert opened his mouth to protest before she cut in.  “Well, co-own it with a friend, to be more accurate.”

“Really?”  Drusilla rested her chin on her thumb, her scarlet nailed index finger held against her cheek.  “What do you sell?”

Buffy took a deep breath and sat up straight.  This was going to be as bad as when she’d told her mom she was opening the store when she left college. 

“We sell comics, graphic novels and the memorabilia that goes with them.”

“Comics?”  Dru’s pretty face screwed up as she wrinkled her nose.

“They’re really popular, Mum.  It’s doing well, isn’t it, Buffy?”  Spike said.

Buffy smiled tightly, appreciating Spike jumping in to defend her, but not actually needing it. 

“It is doing very well.  We’re ahead of our projected turnover at this time, and Willow has just set up a website so we’re now selling worldwide.”

“How extraordinary,” said Dru, her tone and expression a little more conciliatory.  “It’s nice to know that perhaps you’re not with my son just for his money.”

“What?”

“Mum!”

“Drusilla!”

Buffy, Spike and Rupert spoke as one.  Drusilla ignored the men, her eyes narrowing as she regarded Buffy.

“You really didn’t know?”  She waved away the waiter who approached to take their order.

“Know what?” Buffy frowned and glanced at Spike whose face looked like thunder.

“Shut it, Mum.”

Drusilla smiled.  “You must do…I mean, seriously, why would an attractive girl—”

“Drusilla!  That is enough.”  Rupert gripped his wife’s arm.  “We’re here to celebrate your son’s birthday, not for you to be bloody obnoxious!”

“Spike?” said Buffy, turning to him.

He acted as if he hadn’t heard her speak.  “She doesn’t know.  There hasn’t been any reason for it to come up.  But if you’d rather she knew, then I’ll tell her now.” 

Spike’s voice was cold enough to make Buffy shiver and be glad the words weren’t directed at her.  His fingers skittered across the table until they touched her hand, then they wrapped around it. 

“I can see fuck all, but I’ve got a few bob in the bank from the compensation and from selling my dad’s house.  That makes me a right catch, doesn’t it?” He gripped Buffy’s hand so hard she had to grit her teeth to keep from yelping.  “Satisfied, Mother?”

“Spike, whatever money you have is your own, and I’d certainly never want to try to spend any of it,” Buffy said.

“I know.  That’s why I never bothered mentioning it.”  A muscle in his jaw ticked.  “I mean, I know you would never run off with a bloke who was worth a mint, and leave behind a man who loved you and your only son.”

Drusilla gasped, and with a sob, rose from her chair and headed towards the restrooms.

“Spike.  That’s enough.”  Rupert’s voice, though quiet, held authority.  He smiled ruefully at Buffy.  “Are you sure you really want to be a part of this family?”

She looked Spike’s step-father in the eye and said simply, “I love him.”

“Ah…”  Rupert nodded.  “Therein lies the problem.  We have no choice in whom we love, do we?” He glanced over to where Drusilla had gone.  “I’d better go find her.  Don’t be too hard on her, Spike.  She does love you in her own strange way, and only fears she’ll lose you again.”  Rupert scraped his chair back and left the table.

“She’s making pretty damn sure that she does,” Spike said to Rupert’s back.  After a pause he muttered.  “Well that wasn’t awkward at all.  I should have known this wouldn’t work.  Let’s go home.”

Buffy leaned in and kissed him.  “They’re coming back.  Let’s see if we can make this work out, okay?” 

“No.  It’s not worth it.  Come on, we can grab a burger at the drive-thru on the way home.”

“No, Spike.  She’s your mom, and I don’t want you to have a fight with her over me.”

“I don’t care—”

“I do.  Please.  Stay.  For me.”

Spike shook his head and sighed.  “Don’t say I didn’t bloody warn you.”

“Now,” said Rupert, as he and Drusilla sat down.  “Can you two play nice?” He winked at Buffy.  “At least until we manage to order something?”

Despite everything, Buffy had to stifle a giggle.  He smiled broadly at her.  “Now can you to apologise to each other?”

Drusilla raised her head and glanced sheepishly at Spike, like a child who’d just been reprimanded.  “I’m sorry, William.”

“Not me you should be apologising to.”

Buffy held the woman’s gaze when her blue eyes turned to her. 

“I really am sorry, Buffy, but I just worry so much about my son…”

“I will do nothing to hurt him, Mrs. Pratt-Giles.”

Drusilla smiled prettily.  “Good.”  She clapped her hands together.  “Now shall we order?  I’m famished.”

Spike snorted, well used to his mother’s abrupt change of mood.  “Sounds like a plan to me.  Buff?  Will you read me the menu, please?”

“Sure, I will.”  She squeezed his hand.  “But after you apologise to your mom.”

Drusilla flashed her a look of surprise, then transferred her attention to her son.

“I’m sorry I said what I did.  I was out of line.” 

“Yes, you were,” said Drusilla, with a pout that reminded Buffy of the one she’d kissed off Spike earlier. 

Rupert coughed softly.  “The poor waiter has been hovering over in the corner for an age.  Let’s get this celebration started, shall we?”

Buffy quietly read out the menu so Spike could make his selections, and the atmosphere gradually began to ease.  But she still felt relieved when she drove Spike back to his apartment.

Later as they snuggled up in bed, Spike said, “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For making me stay.  It was the right choice.”

Smiling, Buffy nuzzled at his neck.  “I know.”

“Hey! Conceited much?” Spike rolled over so he had her pinned beneath him.

“It’s not being conceited if it’s true.”  She grinned and thrust upwards with her pelvis, feeling all too clearly the affect it had on Spike.  “While you’re there…”

Laughing, Spike shifted so his erection nestled between her thighs.  “Pray do tell me what you had in mind, wench.”

He hissed as her small hand encircled him and guided him to her entrance.  “Get to work, buster, or there’ll be trouble!”

Spike chuckled.  “Yes, boss.”  With well-practiced ease, he slipped inside her, both moaning with pleasure.

They made love slowly and  passionately, knowing exactly how to give the most pleasure to each other, before falling asleep still wrapped in each other’s arms.

*~*~*~*

After Buffy had left to open the store the next morning, Spike sat on the sofa feeling more than a little bored.  He knew he needed to find work of some sort before he went as insane as he suspected his mother was. 

He checked his watch, decided that nine thirty on a Saturday was a reasonable time to call someone, and pressed the speed dial key he’d assigned to Riley.  The phone was picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Uh.”  The female voice caught Spike unawares.

“Uh?  That’s it?  Buddy, if you’re gonna do a dirty phone call then you really need to work on your technique.”

Recognising that straight-talking attitude, Spike laughed.  “Morning, Faith.  It’s Spike.  Is Ri around, or have you worn him out?”

“Hi, Spike.” He could practically hear her grinning.  “I can tell you that boy really has some stamina.  I had to—”
 
“I think I get the gist, thanks.  So where is the big guy?”

“He’s fixing me breakfast.  Shall I get him to call you later, ‘cause I’m thinking breakfast might take a while.”

“Yeah, that’d be good.  And…take it easy on him, okay?”

Faith huffed.  “He gives as good as he gets.  See you later.”

She’d hung up before Spike had a chance to say goodbye.

“Good on yer, mate,” Spike said to himself, grinning broadly, delighted that Faith had come through for his friend.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.   In just two weeks’ time, he and Buffy would be jetting off for England.  He’d been online and booked tickets for several attractions, not wanting Buffy to miss out on the tourist trail just because he was blind.  It would be strange going back.  Stranger still to meet some of his old friends again.  He sighed.  Back then, they’d thought they’d be friends forever. 

Knowing he was heading for a pity party if he didn’t get off his arse and do something, Spike decided to do a little more research for something he had planned for the trip.