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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is the final chapter, thanks for everyone whose stuck with the story! Special thanks to Willow Trees.
Dawn had not stopped making fun of her mother for the past two weeks.

“I know it’s symbolic and everything, but that doesn’t mean the two of you aren’t colossal dorks,” Dawn had said at the dress shop. “Desiree’s Formalwear,” mostly trafficked in wedding gowns but in April they dragged out a rainbow-colored array of slippery dresses for prom season. The bright party clothes stood out garishly in the creamy interior of the shop.

“Hey, it’s your fault I never made it to my real prom. Just be glad you don’t have to go,” Buffy said, as she came out of the changing room in a fluffy, pink number with a sequined bodice. Some of the irony left Dawn’s face as she gazed at her mother and she unfolded her arms.

“You look gorgeous,” Dawn said, before she added, quickly, “but you’re still very, very lame.”

Buffy twirled in front of the triptych mirror and giggled.

“You think he’s going to like it?” she asked as she stopped and the voluminous, satin skirt draped against her knees.

“Of course he will. He’s as lame as you are and he’s so in love with you that it’s just a little bit gross,” Dawn said.

Buffy walked toward her daughter and caught her up in a hug.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” Dawn said through a wide smile.

“You can borrow it when you go to junior prom next year,” Buffy said as she let Dawn go.

Dawn shuffled her feet a little.

“Nobody’s going to ask me, your darling daughter is kind of a freak,” Dawn said.

“Come on, I’m sure you’re going to meet someone who will love you with gag-inducing intensity, and you’ll be making me and Spike and your dad super-uncomfortable in no time,” Buffy said.

“That’s so sweet, mom,” Dawn said.

***

Buffy had suggested that Spike wear his kilt instead of renting a tux, but he thought it would be slightly less humiliating for Dawn if he was dressed more conventionally. The compromise was that he would bring the kilt to the hotel after the prom if she would pack her old cheer leading outfit.

“So in this role playing scenario, why am I Scottish if you’re a cheerleader?” Spike asked.

“Because you have great legs,” Buffy said.

Dawn usually spent the weekends with Buffy and Spike, but Riley agreed to switch days with them so they could have their special night. When she asked him for the favor while she was dropping Dawn off after school, Riley didn’t quite make fun of Buffy, but she could see from the wrinkles around his eyes that it was taking all of her ex’s energy not to.

“You’re so much girlier than I remember,” Riley said with a chuckle.

Buffy bit back several retorts starting with, ‘You always did forget I was a woman,’ to ‘I guess that’s why I could never compete with She-Ra, Princess of Depilatory,’ surprised at her own bitterness.

Instead she smiled and thanked him. There was no reason to start being mean when all he was trying to do was help her, Buffy thought.

Of course, Dawn thought Buffy and Spike were insane and told them so while they were having a late lunch around the dining room table. Dawn had made some sort of spicy, beige sauce to pour over noodles and they were all trying to puzzle it out while they talked about their prom night plans.

“Why would you rent a hotel room if you have a house?” Dawn asked.

“Historical accuracy. I wouldn’t have taken my date to my Uncle Rupe’s, and this used to be his house back when he was alive,” Spike said. He twirled the pasta on the tines of his fork and put it in his mouth. Spike began to chew as though he had bitten into a cake studded with thumb tacks.

“If you were being really accurate, wouldn’t mom be a few years too young for you?” Dawn asked, making Buffy spit water out of her nose.

“Traitor,” Spike said, though his voice was muffled by the most incomprehensibly bad meal he’d ever tried to eat.

“I think a hotel is a big waste of money,” Dawn said to her mother.

Spike wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and then glanced at Buffy.

“This is one of those things I’m not going to explain to you, because you only think you want to know. The truth could cause you to weep blood or at the very least cause permanent ugh face,” Buffy said.

Spike nodded yes in agreement and tried to subtly spit his bite into the napkin.

“I think you’re right, ugh face is already forming, but that could be because of how disgusting lunch is. I’m sorry. Should we order pizza?” Dawn asked.

***

“It’s not bad luck to see you in the dress before the thing, is it?” Spike asked.

Buffy had just finished piling up her hair into a crown of blonde ringlets and was pulling her gown up over her strapless bra when Spike walked into their bedroom. He was perfect in his rented clothes and for a moment she thought of the wedding photograph he’d taken with Drusilla that used to hang in the dining room.

Buffy put that out of her mind. Spike wanted to be with her; he was always game no matter how silly her plans got.

“Nope, it’s not like a wedding,” Buffy said.

“Might be bad luck for the frock, though. Fancy me tearing that thing off you, pet?”

“You’re not ripping this, I promised it to Dawn, now zip me,” Buffy said, offering her open dress to him and glancing over her bare shoulder.

Her calculated gesture got the desired response.

“Don’t talk about Dawn right now,” Spike said.

He kissed every inch of her back as he slowly pulled up the tab. Spike stroked the nape of her neck with light, shivery fingers, calling up goose bumps all over her skin. He tipped her head until their mouths met, kissing until they had to stop for breath.

“Should we maybe skip the dance and just go to the hotel?” Buffy asked. He brushed her lips with his smile.

“Better to make you wait,” he said.

“Evil,” she said.

Spike slipped his fingers under the silky skirt of her dress.

“On the other hand, I’ve never been one for waiting,” Spike said.

Spike kissed her ear and teased the elastic legs of her panties, when they were interrupted by the doorbell.

“Don’t answer it,” Spike said.

“It’s probably—“

Someone was walking into the house.

“Hey guys, are you decent?” Dawn asked.

Spike pulled his hands away and quickly rearranged Buffy’s dress. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and placed his hands on her waist. Dawn was standing in the doorway holding a camera and a plastic bag.

“Time to commemorate your dorkiness dorks! I brought corsages!” Dawn said, swinging the bag.

Spike smiled at Buffy so broadly his dimples showed and his eyes got crinkly. Buffy beamed back at him and Dawn snapped a photo. They pinned their flowers on each other amid the flash of Dawn’s camera. Dawn posed them in the living room and then the front yard like she was a new grandparent until it was time to go.

They had decided against getting a limo for two reasons. For one thing, in order to create an authentic high school experience they would have had to get six other prom attendees to go in with them. For another, Spike got car sick when he wasn’t driving.

Dawn watched them pull away, waving maniacally. She would never tell them, but Dawn actually thought what her mom and Spike were doing was wonderful in a weird sort of way.
Before she moved in with Spike, her mother had never been very fun. Buffy was always the one making sure Dawn got off to school on time with a nutritionally balanced lunch; she clipped coupons and scheduled dentist appointments and ironed shirts. Buffy had the precision of a Swiss-made watch, the gift her mom had asked for two Christmases ago after they’d seen a row of them in the jewelry store case at the mall. Dawn had lingered over the colored gemstones and swooned over the diamonds, but of course mom had gone for the practical, the attainable, the boring.

That was her mom. At least, she thought that was her mom. Apparently Buffy had been eyeing the shiny baubles on the sly. You think you know a person, you think they are confined to the tasks they repeat each day; then you find out they were only really living in the brief pauses of conversation, the silences you thought held no meaning. You find out your mom is just as goofy and self-indulgent and wicked as you wish you could be.

Dawn waited until the Bonneville rounded the corner to get on her bike. She was putting together a scrap book for their big prom night because she was sure her mom would be totally embarrassed when Dawn presented it to her. Also, they did look amazing standing next to each other in their finery; Dawn had never seen either of them smiling that big before. It was something she wanted to remember.





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