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~*~

Spike was outside the Bronze having a smoke when he saw Buffy coming towards him.

His first impulse was to run to her, kiss her then, shag her senseless—but that was always his first impulse with her, ‘specially when she wore little skirts like the one she had on just then.

His second impulse was to run in the opposite direction so she couldn’t stomp on his heart anymore with that “friends” routine they’d been going through.

Bloody confusing, that.

He chose to do neither. Instead he just arched an eyebrow at her. “Problem, Summers?”

“No,” she said with a funny expression on her face, “There’s no problem.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. Wait—that wasn’t a funny expression. She just looked happy, happier than he’d seen her look since…

Well, since they’d made love.

It was all he could do to stop his inner William from jumping for joy. She’s not happy about anything that has to do with you, ponce! “Well, then, what’s goin’ on? Thought you were doing the Thanksgiving thing.”

“I was. But…” she trailed off, smiling shyly. “Well…I kicked my dad in the balls and then I kind of ran out of the house.”

Well, well. That was a surprise. “Great job, kitten,” he said, trying to restrain the pride that washed through him. “Looks like you’ve got claws after all, eh?”

“Yeah.” She looked away from him. Spike cocked his head as he watched her; she seemed to be hesitating about something…

“Spike, I—“ She stopped again. “It’s just—auggh!” She let out a frustrated half-scream. “This is so not coming out right.”

“I rather think it’s not coming out at all,” he said, smirking.

She glared at him. “Well, if you keep chattering, it sure won’t.”

His smirk widened. He really couldn’t help it. They were back to the banter, just like old times. “You gonna try to shut me up, Blondie?”

He’d expected her to screech or at the very least give him a lecture on what a pig he was. What he didn’t expect was for her to smile slowly. “You know, that’s a really good idea.”

And then, before he had a chance to even think of a rejoinder, she went up on tiptoes and kissed him, just like she had three weeks ago. Only this time she was happy and not in the least bit grieving, and instead of her kiss being gentle and apologetic, it was hard and passionate.

Bloody hell, he thought, wrapping his arms around her waist and hauling her up closer to him. Feeling her breasts press against his chest, feeling her legs against his—Christ, he’d missed this. He’d missed it so damn much.

She was the first to break away. Gasping, she peppered little kissed all over his face. When she spoke, her voice was so sexy and throaty it made his stomach clench. “I’m so, so sorry,” she breathed, still giving him those sweet, feather-light kisses. “I was such an idiot, and I didn’t see sense for the longest time. I should never have broken up with you—I missed you so much. And I love you. I loved you even when I broke up with you, but I love you more now, and I hope you love me back, because there’s a good chance I’ll die if you don’t, because I have to be with you. I don’t have a choice. These past three weeks were horrible, being close to you and not being able to touch you—“

Knowing her, she probably would’ve gone on for quite some time after that, but Spike stopped her chattering with a kiss. A long, slow, deep, heartfelt kiss of the tonsil hockey variety.

“That answer the question, luv?” Spike asked, gasping, when they finally broke apart.

“I—forgot,” Buffy panted. “What was—the question?”

God, she was beautiful. He’d mussed her hair and her eyes were shining, and her lips—her lips were so plump and red—he dove in for another kiss.

“Question was—‘f I still love you,” he said when they again stopped to breathe, kissing down her neck. How the bleedin’ hell have I survived without this?

“Oh yeah.” She slipped a hand inside his shirt, moaning when she felt his muscles. “Do you?”

God, her hand was so small, so soft...he returned the favor, slipping a hand inside her little red tank top and caressing the bra-covered breast he found there, smiling when he heard her gasp. “Yeah, kitten. I still love you. Never stopped, to tell the truth.”

They probably would have continued to make out frantically, but at that moment a group of guys walked by, laughing. One of them shouted out, “Dude, way to score on Turkey Day!”

Spike watched Buffy’s cheeks redden. She always looked so cute when she did that. “I guess we’d better stop,” she said, sounding none too thrilled at the idea. “Having sex in an alley would be kinda ew.”

“That where you think this is going, pet?” he asked softly. Heaven knew if that’s what she wanted to do, he was up for it—but it took two to tango, after all.

She just gave him a look that said, clear as glass, duh.

“Right, then. Wanna go inside?” Spike asked, watching her face closely for her reaction. He sure as hell wasn’t rejecting her, but he wasn’t sure how she’d see it.

Apparently she didn’t think he was just being a bastard, because she smiled and said, “Sure. Is anyone else here?”

“Pretty much the whole gang,” Spike said, grinning at Buffy’s stunned look. “Well, we’re a nonconforming bunch. C’mon.” He tugged her inside. “Let’s have us a proper Thanksgiving.”

*

Buffy was happy. And not just “I got the presents I wanted for my birthday” happy. No, she was more “I’m so incredibly happy it’s almost wigging me out and I don’t think I could get any happier!!!!” happy. And damn, did it feel good.

She was stealing glances at Spike practically constantly as he led her to the table where the gang had gathered. Well, was it her fault that he looked so hot? He’d ditched his plain black t-shirt in favor of a black muscle shirt and a chain necklace, and he looked even more lickable than ever. In fact, just glancing at him made her want to—

Well, suffice it to say that turkey wasn’t the only thing she wanted to eat.

Spike hadn’t been lying when he’d said everyone was there. Faith, Willow, Anya, Xander, and Oz were all sitting casually at one of the Bronze’s larger tables. Buffy gaped at them. “Okay, what are all you guys doing here?”

“My family doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving. It’s a sham,” Willow said cheerfully.

“Where the redhead goes, so do I,” Oz remarked.

“Uncle Rory turned the turkey into a bonfire,” was Xander’s contribution.

“My parents are at a stock convention, and anyway, I don’t enjoy ritual sacrifices, even if they are with pie,” Anya informed her.

“Please, B. You really think I’m all up for fun family time?” Faith snorted.

Buffy had to restrain a laugh. There she’d been, berating herself for dreading Thanksgiving—and it turned out her friends didn’t even celebrate it! “You guys are completely weird, you know that?” she said, sitting down next to Spike and leaning into his embrace. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t going to be at your houses?”

“Because we figured you were doing Turkey Day with your family, and—hey! You and Spike are all tactile again!” Xander exclaimed.

The others gave him a look of disgust. “We all noticed that as soon as they walked in, sweetie,” Anya said, patting his hand.

Xander slumped in his chair. “Captain Obvious says he’s sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” Buffy said. She was pretty sure she was grinning from ear to ear, just like she’d been ever since she and Spike had gotten all full-body outside, but she couldn’t have cared less. Let the world see how happy she was. “I just get to announce to everybody that Spike and I are a couple again!”

“An’ we couldn’t be happier,” Spike added, nuzzling her hair.

“Ooh…” Buffy melted into him, barely noticing the looks everyone else was giving them.

“Were they this gooey the last time they were goin’ out and I just didn’t notice?” Faith asked, staring at the couple.

“No, they’re definitely more sickeningly cute now,” Anya said. “But then, they’ve given each other orgasms and gone through great self-inflicted pain since then, so I suppose it makes sense that they’d be so openly in love now.”

Buffy giggled against Spike’s lips; she felt him smile, too. “I like that word,” she informed him, kissing his nose and then his ear. “I love you,” she sang into it softly.

His answer was a slight growl as he pulled her fully into his lap and nuzzled her neck. “Love you too, kitten,” he murmured, fingers dancing along the bottom of her tank top.

“Mmm.” Buffy arched into his touch. She couldn’t believe life could get this good—here at the Bronze with her incredible boyfriend and a group of friends who—

Wait. She peeked open one eye as her ears finally registered the lack of noise at their table. Sure enough, every single person who’d been sitting with them a minute ago had bolted to the dance floor. “Spike?” When he didn’t answer, she wriggled on his lap—and then colored when she realized what that did to him.

“Spike!”

“Yeah, Golidlocks?” Spike asked, finally pulling himself away from her neck.

“Look!”

Spike’s eyes took in the empty table; he snorted. “Tossers can’t take a little display of affection.”

“Or a big one,” Buffy said mischievously, wriggling on him again.

He shot her a look that promised retribution. “You’re a little minx, aren’t you?” he said.

“You’d better believe it,” she said, smiling at him, in completely gooey-girlfriend mode.

He smiled and leaned in for another kiss. When it was over he said, “You wanna dance, luv?”

Was it just her, or was he using a lot of pet names tonight? Oh, well—not like she was complaining. “Sure!” She hopped off the bench, keeping their hands linked, and led them out onto the dance floor.

~*~

A/N: Dumb place to end a chapter, I know, but if I didn’t end it there it would have been reeeeally long. Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews—they made me smile! I love the fact that you guys stuck with me through the hard parts of the story and that you’re still enjoying it, so thanks, both for reading and for reviewing.





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