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Author's Chapter Notes:
The final chapter!

It's another super-sized one :)

Banner by xoChantelly
Later that day...

As Buffy neared the Magic Box at about 6pm, she reflected on her afternoon at the museum. She'd had a good time with her mom, sister, and Spike. The only thing that would've made it better was if she and Spike had been able to sneak off and be alone for a while. But she'd had a pleasant day despite the lack of alone-time with her man. To keep her libido at bay, Buffy had reminded herself that they'd have a chance for romance later, after patrolling. Or, perhaps, during patrol... if she just couldn't manage to wait any longer. She hadn't felt this frisky in a long time.

Buffy had enjoyed seeing Spike interact with her mom and sister in a social setting again. They had a natural, easy rapport which the Slayer couldn't explain. She couldn't explain how or why her family took to Spike so easily, and vice-versa, but she was grateful for it, nonetheless. Spike had been funny, personable, and charming all day; it was a side of him her friends hadn't had a chance to see very often, or at all. Xander, even if he witnessed Spike being a good guy, would probably be completely unimpressed and say it was all just an act. But Buffy knew differently. If Spike didn't like someone, he wasn't capable of hiding it for long. Xander would attest to that much.

Spike had dazzled the Summers women with his knowledge of art and art history. That tricky vampire was a lot smarter and cultured than he'd ever let on. Buffy had known him for years, but, in some ways, it was like she'd only just met him. She looked forward to making more fun discoveries about Spike in the months and (hopefully) years to come.

Dawn had been on her best behavior, even encouraging Buffy to hold Spike's hand at one point, and she'd kept any risqué comments to herself. It was obvious her little sister was trying to make up for her 'joke' that morning. Buffy was sorely tempted to pretend to be more angry and upset about it, to milk Dawn's guilt over the incident for as long as possible. But that would be kinda mean -- not that she didn't deserve it! Buffy decided to give Dawn a break, though, but she would wait and see how Dawn behaved in the next few days before she officially forgave her for the ill-advised prank.

They'd all had a good time. But, of course, the afternoon hadn't been completely incident-free...


Earlier, at the museum...

Dawn was relieved to finally get out of the ‘nudes’ room at the museum. She was pretty sure her face couldn’t get more flushed or her stomach more jittery than it had been in there. I mean, perusing a room full of mostly-naked men and women -- statues, paintings, bronzes, and photographs -- with not only your mother, but the guy you’ve been crushing on forever who is now your sister’s boyfriend? Not a recipe for happiness. She couldn’t stop her mind from wondering what Spike would look like done in marble or bronze; she was pretty sure he’d put all these examples of manliness to shame. Those thoughts, of course, just made her face burn hotter.

She was happy to see the next room was Native American art, much less with the boobies and ding-dongs and more with the horses and eagles. As their small group was examining the workmanship of a hand-woven Navajo rug, a rotund, balding man smoking a cigar came into the room. He seemed oblivious to the 'no smoking' signs which were posted everywhere. Other people would glare briefly at him, but no one had the guts to say what was on their minds. Most people didn't want to risk having an unpleasant exchange with a stranger.

Dawn hated the smell of cigar smoke. Not only did it irritate her nose and throat, it turned her stomach -- as if her stomach needed more upsetting just now! “Why doesn't someone tell him to put that thing out?” she wondered, looking away from the intricately woven rug hanging on the wall, her nose scrunched up with disgust. She put a hand on her stomach. “Ugh, I hope I don't puke...”

Dawn meant she didn't know why a museum employee didn't tell the man to get rid of the cigar, but Spike took matters into his own hands. With a purposeful stride, he walked over to the man. Unlike most people, Spike wasn't afraid of having an unpleasant exchange with a stranger -- in fact, there was very little that Spike was afraid of; an over-the-hill bowling-ball of a man being near the bottom of the list, right next to newborn kittens and dandelions.

Buffy tried grabbing his arm to stop him, but she'd reacted too slowly and Spike was out of reach. She had no idea what was going to happen, Spike could be... highly unpredictable, to put it mildly. She unconsciously held her breath as she watched Spike begin talking to the man.

“Hey, mate, you wanna douse that stogie?” Spike asked, in as polite a tone as he could manage. Politeness didn't come very easily to him; being polite was not his first instinct in any given situation. But because he was out in public with the Summers clan, and he wanted to be the kind of man they all could be proud of, he had to try being more even-tempered. He wanted to show them he could behave like a gentleman.

“No,” the man replied simply, not even giving Spike a sideways glance.

There were a lot of things that annoyed Spike, being ignored and dismissed were near the top of the list. He clenched his jaw tightly for a moment, then moved around the man to look him in the eye. “The smoke is botherin' the girl,” he said, gesturing at Dawn.

The man finally glanced at Spike, and then briefly at Dawn. “Too bad. Don't like it? Go to another room, it's a big building.”

Spike's nostrils flared, his eyes narrowed, and his hands reflexively curled into fists. For the millionth time since he'd been chipped, he cursed his inability to hit a human without experiencing blinding pain. Not that Spike would've hit the man if he were able, he wouldn't want to upset or embarrass Joyce and Dawn... but having the option to hit the bastard would be nice.

“It's... It's alright, Spike,” Joyce said, moving nearer the two men, nervous that the situation would turn ugly in a matter of seconds. Spike looked very angry. “This guy isn't worth the trouble. We're moving to the next exhibit, anyway.” She gave the man a reproachful look, her voice hardening. “You're a very rude and inconsiderate person. You should be ashamed of yourself!” After a cold, disdainful glare directed at the round man, Joyce then turned and ushered Dawn out of the room, hoping that Spike would follow.

The man shook his head and chuckled, he couldn't care less what Joyce thought of him. He'd paid his fee to get in and he intended to enjoy the exhibit as he saw fit; and that was with his expensive Cuban cigar.

Buffy slowly followed after her mother and sister, walking backwards. She watched Spike and the rude guy, interested and still anxious about how Spike was going to handle this situation. He should just walk away... but she knew Spike well enough to know he wouldn't do that. She wasn’t testing him... exactly, but if Spike was to be part of her life -- her entire life, not just her Slayer life -- then she needed to know that he could control himself in situations like this, which were bound to come up.

Spike looked toward the archway Dawn and Joyce had gone through, making sure they'd left. The tosser actually had the nerve to laugh at Joyce -- that had really pissed Spike off. It was taking all the willpower he had to rein in his demon, he knew he had to handle this civilly, but most of him didn’t want to. Luckily, he had enough blood in his brain to listen to the small part that was telling him to channel his inner-gentleman.

Spike cracked his neck from side to side, recomposing himself, before turning his attention back to the man. “I asked you to put out the bloody cigar.”

The man was clearly irritated now. He looked at Spike and gave a snort of derision. “No one, especially not a lowlife like you, tells me what to do.”

Spike smiled pleasantly. “Ah, I reckon I know what the problem is. There aren't any ashtrays 'round here, are there?” He made a show of looking around them. “Otherwise, you woulda been a gentleman and put your cigar out when you knew it was making the girl sick. Please, allow me to put it out for you.” With a hint of gold flashing in his blue eyes, Spike snatched the cigar out of the man's hand in the blink of those expressive eyes.

“Hey! What the hell is your problem?!” the man blustered, his round face flushing with anger.

Spike slowly and deliberately held out his right hand, palm-side up.

“That's a Cuban! Give it back or I'll...”

Spike crushed the lit end of the cigar against his own outstretched palm, and then proceeded to grind it out. He had a smile on his face, staring unflinchingly into the big man's beady eyes, as he twisted the cigar against his bare flesh.

The rude man watched, his beady eyes widening comically, horrified and transfixed by the display, not quite believing this was really happening. Spike's skin sizzled, the smell of burning flesh mingled in the air with the pungent smoke of the expensive Cuban cigar.

Spike leaned forward until his mouth was near enough to the man's neck to rip out his jugular. “Next time,” Spike said in his most menacing tone, slipping the snuffed-out cigar into the breast pocket of the man's jacket, “I'll put it out on your bloody face.”

“Y-y-you're crazy...” The now-spooked man started backing away.

“Too right, I'm mad as a hatter.” Spike grinned and widened his eyes, attempting to look as insane as possible. He'd been around Dru more than long enough to learn what 'crazy' looked like. “So, when I ask you nicely to do something, you'd better bloody well do it, yeah?”

The panicked man turned on his heels and began stumbling and staggering away in his feeble attempt to run. He nearly tripped over a bench in his path, barely lurching to the side in time to avoid it, bumping into several people in the process, before disappearing into a crowd in the next room.

Spike growled out a disdainful laugh before turning his attention to his hand, brushing the ashes off his burnt palm. He looked around him to see if any of the other museum patrons had seen what he'd done. As he'd hoped, he'd managed to keep the confrontation private, and hadn't alarmed anyone else other than the rude man.

Buffy, having witnessed the whole thing, strode up to her vampire worriedly. “Spike, what's wrong with you? Why did you put it out on your hand?”

“Why? 'Cos I couldn't put it out on him, now could I?” He smirked, adding, “And I knew it'd scare the shit outta him. I think the prat'll mind his manners a bit better the next time he finds himself in a similar situation.”

“Couldn't you have just told him you'd report him to security, or something else that wouldn't have ended with you maiming yourself?”

“Hmm... didn't think of that. Yeah, reckon I could've done that. But tattling?” Spike screwed up his face and shook his head. “Not a wee lad in short pants, now am I? And we're not in a bloody schoolyard. And it's not my style, pet; I prefer the direct approach.”

Buffy rolled her eyes as she took his right hand and inspected the cigar burn. It was ugly and had to hurt, but Spike had had worse... Buffy herself was responsible for him being horribly burned (and temporarily crippled) in that old church. She knew she needed to let the past stay in the past -- Spike had obviously forgiven her, so she should forgive herself too... but she couldn't help it. She frowned, thinking that the pain he'd been in back then had to have been excruciating. She gingerly touched the skin around the cigar burn, wishing she could make his pain go away. She couldn't make up for hurting him in the church, but she could help him feel better now. “We should put some ice on this.”

Spike looked anxiously at Buffy, believing her frown was one of disapproval for what he'd done. “Brassed off at me for doin' what I did, ain't you? Tried to keep the whole thing quiet as possible... I didn't want to upset your mum and the Bit.”

She gave him a small smile to let him know he wasn't in trouble with her. “You shouldn't have threatened him... but he was being a huge jerk. And you only said something to him because Dawn said the smoke was making her sick. You were being protective of my little sister... I can't be mad at you for that. But what if, unlike you, that guy does like tattling and goes to security and reports you? We might get kicked out of the museum.”

Spike snorted. “What's he gonna say? He'd have to admit he was smoking in a 'no smoking' area. And I gave the soddin' thing back to the wanker, can't say I stole it. You know, I never cared for cigars m'self. They smell bloody awful, and they look like you're suckin' on a big brown dick.”

Buffy laughed, relaxing a bit. She figured Spike was probably right and the man wouldn't try getting them thrown out. Spike was also right about cigars being smelly and looking like big brown dicks. “I never thought of cigars that way... Thanks a lot, I'm going to have that visual every time I see someone smoking one now,” she joked.

Spike relaxed too, relieved that he hadn't pissed her off. Maybe he hadn't handled the situation exactly right, but he hadn't bollixed everything up, either.

Buffy bit her lip and put her arms around Spike's neck. “Honestly, I thought what you did was bad-ass, and kinda sexy... in a weird way.”

Spike smirked. “Is that so?”

“Mmmhmmm. But now you have a painful burn on your hand.”

“I don't mind a little pain for a good cause, and it'll heal up quick, no worries. I'll have a pint o' blood when I get 'ome, the worst of the burn should be gone in a day or so.”

Buffy pulled his head down to give him a kiss. She was actually feeling a bit randy. Seeing Spike take charge was both stimulating and heartwarming. Spike being a bad-ass was hot, and knowing he did it to protect her sister was heartwarming. It proved once again that Spike would be there to help protect her family no matter what, even with minor things like cigar smoke bothering Dawn. He was willing to endure pain and the loss of a patch of skin just to teach a lesson to someone who'd caused her sister even a little bit of discomfort.


Back in the present...


Unfortunately, the museum smoochies hadn't lasted long. Joyce had come back looking for them a minute later, worried they'd gotten into a fight with the cigar guy. Buffy was surprised that Spike told her mom the truth about what he'd done; she'd assumed he would make up a story and try hiding his burned hand. Joyce hadn't seemed bothered by it, though she did chastise him for hurting himself. And Dawn thought what Spike did was ultra-cool, of course.

Buffy thought it was good that Spike had burned himself. Well, it wasn't good... but the course of action he decided to take could've been worse... a lot worse. Spike was well known for having a bad temper and being impulsive -- he could've tried taking a swing at the guy, or screamed at him, or something else that would've caused a big scene and ended badly. But Spike had considered at least some of the possible consequences before he acted, and that was definitely a step in the right direction for him.

Having had their fill of art and culture for one afternoon, the group went to the café in the museum to grab some dinner, nothing fancy, just hamburgers and fries. After a pleasant meal, Spike told them he had to leave to work on his car at the garage for a while. Buffy and Spike had reluctantly parted ways, and just like this morning, Buffy missed him like crazy the second he was gone. They'd only been apart for a half-hour, but it felt like days to the smitten Slayer. Love is a funny thing...

Standing in front of the shop, Buffy tried preparing herself for any bad things that might happen in the next few hours. What if Xander went back on his promise and started hassling her about Spike? What if there was more fighting when Spike showed up later? What if a mega-demon came to town and put their lives in danger? What if Spike got hurt... or worse? Although she knew he was completely capable of taking care of himself around other demons, he was completely helpless around humans. Buffy didn't know what she'd do if she lost him now...

All those 'What ifs' were just stinkin' thinkin', Buffy told herself; she had to think positively. Xander promised he'd be nice, and Buffy believed he was being sincere; therefore, there would be no more ugly incidents. And if a slaying emergency did come up, she knew Spike would be right there by her side all the way, helping to protect her friends and family. Spike was a skilled and powerful warrior, he hadn't lived for over a hundred years by being easy to defeat; if he gets involved in a battle, Spike will win. And Spike knew how to take care of himself around humans; he was clever and had no problem gaining the upper-hand psychologically, he'd proved that today at the museum. No matter what happened in the next few hours, Buffy knew she'd have Spike to cuddle with at the end of the day. That fact made everything much more bearable.

“Hello, everyone!” Buffy said as she cheerfully breezed into the shop.

Willow and Tara, who were sitting at the reading table, looked up and grinned at Buffy. Their friend was clearly in a very good mood, a welcome change from when she'd been a nervous wreck trying to track down Spike all over town. A smiley, happy Buffy was a wonderful (though, unfortunately, rare) sight to see.

“By the smile on your face, I take it you had a good time last night?” Giles asked her from behind the counter.

Buffy stared at him blankly for a second. He wasn't asking her how things had gone with Spike... was he? “Um... last night?”

He clarified, “You said you wanted to spend a quiet evening at home with your family... and Spike. Did you have a pleasant evening?”

“Oh... yeah! He was great. It was great. I mean... we had a great time, thanks for asking.”

Giles raised his eyebrows but made no further comment. While he was thankful to see Buffy looking so happy, he had a feeling he would be much happier not knowing precisely why Buffy seemed so... jubilant.

Buffy turned toward Willow and Tara, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Willow waved her over, saying, “We're dying to hear about the art exhibit, tell us all about it!”

“You look like the cat that swallowed the canary,” Tara observed once Buffy sat down.

Buffy had to stifle a giggle when a very dirty response came to her mind. It seemed that Spike's naughty mind was a bad influence on hers. “I don't even remember feeling this good after spending the night with someone -- like ever!” She glanced back at Giles. “For a second, I actually thought Giles was asking me about how it went with Spike... I think being in love and having mind-blowingly hot sex made my IQ drop a few points.”

The girls laughed.

“Yep, being in love, and having mind-blowing sex can do that,” Willow agreed, nodding. “Don't worry, it's only a temporary condition, the lust fog in your brain will clear soon. You'll still be ga-ga for Spike, but your IQ will go back to normal.”

“So everything went well last night?” Tara prodded.

Buffy grinned and nodded. “Not only did I have an incredible night with the man I love, all those fears and worries I had -- or most of them, anyway -- were proven wrong.”

“I knew you had nothing to worry about.” Tara patted Buffy's arm. “See? Everything was fine.”

“I freely admit it -- I'm an idiot,” Buffy laughed. “I'll be mad at myself in a day or two for being a basketcase who denied myself the most physically and spiritually fulfilling experience I've ever had. I'm just too happy to punish myself right now.”

“I think you've punished yourself enough already,” Willow admonished her. “I don't think Spike would want you to beat yourself up over it, either. All that bad stuff is over now, you and Spike have moved beyond it. So, just bask in the wonderfulness, no punishing.”

Buffy nodded. “I guess you're right... I've put myself and Spike through enough crap already.” After a pause, she said, “Oh, I could've killed Dawn this morning. You won't believe what that little brat did. Spike and I were about to... you know, say 'good morning' the naughty way, when Dawn knocked on the door. Then she played a prank on me by saying she heard me and Spike... doing it during the night.”

Tara and Willow's jaws dropped.

“She didn't actually hear anything,” Buffy added quickly, clarifying that before they had a chance to respond verbally. “She'd figured out that Spike had spent the night with me, and then she tried to give me a heart attack.”

Willow shook her head and frowned. “Wow, I can't believe Dawn would do something so... On second thought, yeah, I can believe it. Not only did she play a mean trick on you, she made you think I gave you a defective soundproofing spell.” Willow's frown deepened. “You didn't kick her butt for that?”

“No.” Buffy sighed regretfully. “Not that I didn't want to, though.”

“Can I kick her butt for making you think my spell was crappy?” Willow asked. She was joking about literally kicking Dawn's ass, but Willow was irked. After a few small... missteps in the past, she was understandably defensive about anyone insinuating one of her spells had gone wrong.

“Sure, you can kick her ass,” Buffy agreed, only half-joking, “but only if I can watch.”

“I hope Dawn doesn't do stuff like that on a regular basis. Maybe she's really not okay with you and Spike... being closer?” Tara wondered.

Buffy sighed. “I think she's okay with it... or at least she's really trying to be. She even told me she'd be fine with me and Spike holding hands, kissing, and being affectionate in general, in front of her.”

Willow brightened. “Well, that's good news. You know, successfully pranking you might've actually helped her deal with the situation better.”

“Yeah, Spike said pretty much the same thing,” Buffy agreed. “Dawn's prank was definitely successful -- I fell for it hook, line and sinker. I hope she feels like we're even now... I'd rather have that devious brain of hers working for me instead of against me.”

“You spent last night with Spike, and you spent the afternoon with him, too. Is all the new togetherness getting on your nerves yet?” Willow teased.

“Oh, I'm positive it will eventually. But, for now...” Buffy smiled saucily, “I can't get enough.”

Xander, who'd arrived at the shop shortly before Buffy, emerged from the doorway leading to the basement with Anya following close behind him.

“Hey, Buff,” Xander said as he went to stand at the counter. “How was your day? You went to the museum with your family and... Spike, right?” Pretending he didn't hate Spike wasn't going to be easy, but he'd do his best, for Buffy's sake. And he knew that friends who didn't accept the new boyfriend or girlfriend didn't remain friends for long.

“Yes, I did,” Buffy replied with a smile. “Mucho fun was had by all, thanks for asking.”

Xander smiled and nodded until he turned away from her. He slumped slightly with his elbows on the counter, a weary expression replacing his pleasant smile.

Giles said, low enough not to be heard by Buffy and the others, “When Spike arrives, which I'm certain he will at some point, excuse yourself and step outside for a moment if being nice becomes too much of an effort. I can see just asking about her afternoon with him has taken a toll on you. We don't want a repeat of what happened here the other night.”

“Hunh? Oh... yeah, right.” Xander sighed and nodded. “Don't worry, I'm not gonna cause a scene again. I promised Buffy I'd give Bat Boy a chance, so... It might end up killing me, but I'll be... nice to him.”

Giles gave him a hopeful look before going back to his ledger.

To be honest, most of Xander's fatigue was caused by what he and Anya just got done doing in the basement... but he wasn't going to tell Giles about that. Having to pretend he didn't hate Spike did take an additional toll on him, though.

Meanwhile, the girls at the table were getting back to their much more interesting conversation.

Tara winked and nudged Buffy. “Any details about last night you'd like to share?” Then she looked down sheepishly, hoping she wasn't making Buffy feel an obligation to share intimate details. “Um, you really don't have to if you don't want to. I was just kidding around.”

Buffy snorted a laugh. “I've never wanted to talk about anything more than I do about what happened last night. I couldn't wait to see you guys to tell you about it.”

The three of them leaned in towards the center of the table to speak more confidentially.

Buffy began, “I was the very lucky beneficiary of all of that hundred years of experience he's had. He can be so romantic and yet so dirty. Spike was --”

Anya suddenly appeared, leaning into the midst of their huddle. “Why are you talking so quietly? Are you telling secrets?”

Buffy, Tara, and Willow leaned back in their chairs with matching frowns.

Buffy sighed in annoyance. “We were having a private conversation, Anya.”

“About what?”

“Don't you know what 'private conversation' means?” Willow asked.

“It's about me, isn't it?” Anya wondered, frowning.

“Noooo...” Willow replied, dragging the word out and rolling her eyes.

Anya brightened. “Ooh, is it 'girl-talk'?” Anya bounced on her heels, looking back and forth between the three eagerly.

“...Yes,” Buffy reluctantly admitted.

“I'm a girl,” Anya stated matter-of-factly, pulling out a chair and plopping down next to Buffy, an expectant look on her face.

Willow raised an eyebrow. “Um, yeah... you are. So?”

Anya squinted at Buffy. “Wait... You had sex, didn't you?” She paused for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, you definitely had sex, I'd know that look anywhere. That's what the three of you were talking about?”

Buffy's eyes widened. “How could you possibly know that?”

“It's a gift, I can just tell.” Anya shrugged nonchalantly. “I want to hear about it, too.”

Buffy shook her head. “No... I don't think so, Anya.”

“What? Why not?” Anya asked with a pout.

“Because I don't want them,” Buffy nodded toward the counter, “to know what I'm talking about, and you don't know how to be... discreet. And you'd probably say something extra-loud and they'd overhear it.”

“I won't tell them, I promise!” Anya made a cross-my-heart gesture. “We're friends, aren't we, Buffy?”

“...Yeah, we're friends,” Buffy said reluctantly. They weren't BFFs, but Buffy did count Anya among her friends.

“I thought girlfriends discussed their romantic escapades with each other over cocktails, and that they share intimate details about their lovers?” A disillusioned expression formed on Anya's face. “...Or has 'Sex and the City' been lying to me all these years?”

Buffy sighed. “Yes, girlfriends have been known to share... that kind of stuff with each other.”

“Well, I want us to be close like Carrie and her friends on the show.” Seeing that the three of them still looked dubious, Anya went on to plead her case. “Xander's wonderful, but he's a man and therefore clueless about women and how we think and feel. I haven't had a close human, female friend for over a thousand years, I forget what it feels like sometimes...” she finished by pouting and looking down at the floor.

Anya suddenly brightened and looked back up at her three companions, her eyes glittering with excitement. “I have an idea! I can go first! I can tell you all about Xan--”

“NO!” the other three exclaimed in unison, cutting her off and drawing a look from the two men at the counter.

Buffy gave Giles and Xander a nervous smile. “Socks with sandals... a definite ‘No’,” Buffy covered.

Giles and Xander both gave a confused nod and turned back to what they had been doing.

The other three women gave each other a look, and then let out a collective sigh.

Buffy said, “Okay, you can be in on the girl-talk, too. But please remember what you promised -- and no sex talk about Xander, ever.”

Anya frowned, but then shrugged. “Okay,” she agreed a bit reluctantly, but quickly brightened again, happy to be included. She leaned toward the center of the table. “It'd be better if we were drinking Cosmopolitans... Maybe we can have a few drinks next time. You were telling them about the fact that you had sex, right? Was it with Spike?”

Buffy blanched, forgetting to keep the volume of her own voice down, “Of course it was!” She looked nervously over at the counter, grateful to see Xander and Giles weren't looking in her direction this time. She took a breath and then said in a quieter tone, “Yes, it was with Spike, the guy I've been dating. Did you think I met some random guy and just jumped into bed with him?”

Anya shrugged. “It is a common human experience, you know. From my observations, it happens frequently.”

“Not to me, it doesn't. Anyway... last night, Spike and I got together for the first time.”

“What took you so long?!” Anya said loud enough to make Giles and Xander look in their direction yet again. At Buffy's scolding look, Anya thought quickly, then turned to the men and said, “Buffy finally tried the brand of sanitary napkins I recommended she use. They are extremely absorbent and conceal odor effectively... and they stay in position when you dance.”

Giles and Xander being male, and therefore reflexively horrified by the subject of feminine hygiene products, promptly looked away and once again went back to what they were doing.

Anya hoped she didn't just exclude herself from the female bonding session. “I'm sorry, Buffy. I promise to control the volume of my voice from now on.” Buffy didn't look appeased by that, so Anya added, “I was just so happy for you, I couldn't help blurting it out. I won't blurt anything again. Okay?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Well... the look on their faces when you mentioned 'sanitary napkins' was pretty funny... Yeah, you can stay. No more blurting though, alright?”

Anya nodded, and the girls leaned in to talk again. “Did I miss anything lurid and explicit? If so, please start from the beginning.”

“You didn't miss anything, I was just starting. It took me and Spike a little while to get goin', 'cause we were both kinda nervous, but once we did... Wowzers!” Buffy raised her eyebrows and blew out a breath.

They giggled.

“We were like bunnies.” Buffy laughed, “Bunnies that just got out of prison.”

Anya made a horrified face. “Bunnies... Why did it have to be bunnies? Bunnies should never get out of prison! You couldn't think of another animal to compare yourselves to? Why not weasels? Or wolverines? They also have copious amounts of sex, and they can be extraordinarily loud and violent towards each other during intercourse. Wolverines would've been a much more apt animal to use in your analogy.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Fine. We were like wolverines that just got out of prison.”

Anya's grimace turned into a smile. “I like that much better. This is fun! Girlfriends getting together to dish about romantic trysts is one of the simple pleasures enjoyed by humans, and now that I am human, it's one of my pleasures.”

“May I continue?” Buffy asked tiredly.

“Oh, please do!” Anya rested her chin on her hand, looking at Buffy expectantly.

Buffy gave Anya a sideways glance. "It's weird that you're suddenly so interested in the details of my love-life..."

"Well," Anya explained, "it's because your love-life has not been worthy of interest before. I'm interested now that you're having sex with Spike. Riley was clearly a completely unimaginative lover and not naughty at all. You probably fought falling asleep under his hulking mass many times. I doubt he was creative, and he most likely favored the Missionary position. Am I right? Bet he had stamina though... He was in good shape. But stamina can become tiresome if he's not a skilled lover -- it can be like torture if he takes too long to finish and you just want it to be over."

The others just stared at Anya -- not knowing why they should be shocked or surprised at her brazenness, but they were stunned for a few moments all the same.

"Now, Spike, on the other hand," Anya continued, oblivious to their discomfort, "has been having sex for over a century, he's had lots of time to perfect his techniques, he must be extremely naughty, and he most likely has the stamina of a wild stag during mating season. So, yes, I'm interested in your love-life now that you have one that is worthy of interest."

Buffy blinked and sat back in her chair. "I was hoping you'd stop talking on your own without someone having to tell you to be quiet -- what was I thinking?" A lot of what Anya said was true, but it still irritated Buffy when Anya talked about her love-life that way.

"My God, Anya..." Willow said, frowning and shaking her head. "You really need to learn what's appropriate conversation and what isn't."

“Why aren't my observations appropriate?” Anya asked, honestly perplexed, looking from Willow, to Tara, to Buffy. “We're engaging in girl-talk about Buffy's night of passion with Spike. I was given to understand that uncensored bawdiness is perfectly acceptable and even encouraged under the circumstances. Is this information incorrect?”

Tara half-shrugged. “I think she's... right about that. In this kind of conversation, those sort of things aren't really inappropriate.”

“Thank you, Tara,” Anya said with a nod, raising her chin defiantly. “See? Tara doesn't think I was being rude.”

Buffy sighed. “Just... let me do most of the talking, alright?” she asked Anya. “Don't interrupt too much, and don't launch into a critical review of my entire dating history.”

Anya opened her mouth to answer, but then just closed her mouth again and nodded curtly. They all knew her silence would last maybe thirty seconds at best... but it was nice that she was trying.

Buffy opened her purse to get a piece of gum. She frowned when she saw a small envelope she hadn't put in there. “What's this?” She picked it up, then smiled when she saw the same fancy writing Spike had used on the envelope that came with the flowers he'd sent.

“What is it?” Willow asked.

“Spike must've slipped this into my purse during dinner. I know this wasn't in here an hour ago.” Buffy took the note out and silently read it.


You ask me if there'll come a time
When I grow tired of you.
Never, my love

You wonder if this heart of mine
Will lose its desire for you.
Never, my love

What makes you think love will end
When you know that my whole life depends
On you

You say you fear I'll change my mind
And I won't require you.
Never, my love

How can you think love will end
When all I want is to spend my whole life
With you


Love you madly,

Spike


She sighed happily and held the note to her chest, wishing it was the man who had written it in her arms at this moment.

“What's it say?” Tara asked curiously. Then she winced, thinking she was being pushy again. “You don't have to tell us, it's okay if it's too private.”

Anya gave Tara an annoyed look. “Speak for yourself. I want to know what it says. We're supposed to be sharing, so share.”

Buffy put the note down on the middle of the table, letting her three friends read it for themselves.

“Oh, wow...” Tara tilted her head and smiled. “That's so sweet!”

Willow nodded, impressed with the 'sensitive side' of Spike. Who knew someone who'd been a vicious, soulless killer for a century could be so sweet and thoughtful?

Getting an unexpected love note from Spike made Buffy feel all warm inside. By giving her this particular poem, Spike was trying to allay more of those fears that had petrified her. A few of her worries that she'd shared with Spike were that he'd get bored with her, or he'd realize he didn't want her now that he finally had her. The note was just Spike's little way of reassuring her that nothing had changed after their first sexual encounter -- he still loved her, he would always love her.

Almost immediately, Buffy began second-guessing her decision to let them read Spike's note. “Um... I know you like what he wrote, but could you guys not tell Spike I let you read it? He might be embarrassed. I don't want to do anything that might possibly discourage him from doing romantic things like this in the future.”

Willow's red brows went up in surprise. “Spike is capable of being embarrassed?”

“About this kind of stuff, yes, he is. So please pretend you never read the note?” Buffy pleaded with them.

They nodded.

Buffy gave Anya a more pointed look. “I mean it, Anya.”

“I won't say a word to Spike about the poem,” Anya said.

“Don't tell Xander or anyone else, either,” Buffy amended.

“I understand, Buffy.” Anya wanted to argue about why they seemed to think she was some kind of brain-damaged blabbermouth who didn't know how to keep a secret, but arguing would only further delay Buffy telling them about the sex.

“A shy, embarrassed Spike must be adorable,” Tara said teasingly.

“It is totally adorable,” Buffy confirmed. “But that's a side of him he's really uncomfortable letting other people see or know about. He wants to maintain his tough-guy image.”

Anya thought Spike's love note was very romantic too, but this wasn't the kind of thing she was hoping to talk about. She was in the mood for juicy details, dammit! To get the conversation back on the right track, she prodded, “He's writing you poetry? You must've given a very impressive performance last night.”

Buffy blushed as she put the note back in the envelope. “Well, Spike seems to think I did. He called me a lioness and a goddess at certain points during the evening. I was so different with Spike than I've been with anyone else... I was still kinda self-conscious at first, but I got over it. I let myself be totally in the moment and not think about much else besides how good being with him made me feel.”

“What sort of things did he do to make you feel so good?” Anya pressed, catching Buffy before she could start talking about the romantic aspects of the evening again. Anya wanted to hear about those too, but right now she wanted some bawdiness. “No detail is too small or filthy, omit nothing.”

Buffy certainly wasn't going to tell them everything, but there were a few things she was dying to share. “It's never felt so right with anyone before. We just... meshed, you know?”

“Yes, tell us about the meshing,” Anya cajoled. “Is there anything that stands out as especially memorable during the meshing?” Anya was anxious to find out if Spike had any sexual tricks up his sleeve (or wherever he kept them) that she might be able to incorporate into what she did with Xander. It was very important for monogamous couples to keep their lovemaking fresh and occasionally spice it up.

“Well...” Buffy giggled, “Spike did this thing with his...”





Xander leaned an elbow on the counter, looking over at the table where the girls were having a quiet conversation punctuated by giggles. “What do you think they're talking about?” he asked.

“I have no idea.” Giles took his eyes from his ledger for a moment to glance at the girls. “Perhaps they're still talking about... female things.”

“See how they're leaning in and talking softly? They're in a girl-huddle, and girl-huddles can spell trouble for men. You think they're talking about us?”

Giles shook his head. “Don't be so paranoid, Xander. If you're that interested in what they're discussing, why don't you just ask them?”

“Like they'd tell me if they were talking about us? They'd just make up something if I asked them... Hey, I bet that's why Anya mentioned... female stuff, she was covering up for what they were really talking about.”

“I have more important things to do than speculate about what four women may, or may not, be talking about,” Giles said, closing his ledger.

“The girls are over there having some kind of estrogen-fueled pow-wow, so us menfolk have to talk about guy stuff to balance it out. What do you want to talk about? Hot chicks? Sports? Fast cars?”

“Some of us are working, not socializing. Would you please tell Anya that she is supposed to be minding the shop? I don't pay her to sit and gossip with her friends.”

Xander frowned. “You're no fun. You really need to loosen up, G-man!”

Giles gave him a tired look. “I'll be in my office.”

Xander watched as Giles went into the office and closed the door. “I need more male friends... Hell, a male friend would be nice... And Giles needs a girlfriend. I wonder if that Olivia lady he was seeing will come back for a visit?” Xander sighed and closed his eyes. “And now I'm talking to myself... Not a good sign.”


Continued...





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