Fireworks from the Rooftop
“You can be such a girl sometimes.”
“Oi! I take offense at that.”
“Well of course you would; doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
“Bloody annoying birds, always going on about how you want men to be more romantic and more caring,” Spike rambled to himself, no longer caring if she were paying him any mind, “then we do and you’re all ‘you’re acting like a girl; quit it’. Can’t make your bleedin’ minds up!”
“Come here you big baby,” Buffy reached out to him from her spot on the sofa.
“No,” Spike stopped his pacing to look at her, frowned, and promptly walked out of the room.
Buffy heaved a deep sigh before getting up and following Spike.
“Come on,” she said as soon as she found him—sitting with the dogs in the bedroom, “I was just kidding around, Spike; you know that. Technically it is cheating so, I—“
“Why’s it have to be cheating?” he asked, still paying a great deal more attention to petting Norah than to Buffy.
“Spike,” she said exasperatedly, “you want to erase a few of your little tick marks so we can be back down to 99—“
“98 and then work back up to 100…again.”
“Well fine, so maybe it’s not exactly following the rules; but they’re our bloody rules. It’s not like this is for some serious competition, just a bit of fun for us. What’s got you wanting to keep it so by the book?”
“I don’t know…maybe I just like the idea of rules.”
“Right, sure you do. You forgetting your office New Years party?”
“What? Don’t get all snippy with me. I’m just the one trying to do something romantic for you; you’re the one making bloody near impossible.”
Okay, so maybe she had been bordering on the Bank of Bitchdom.
“I’m sorry, Spike. I…yeah, I was being and idiot, okay? I’ll shut up now and we’ll do whatever you want; I’m sure I’ll love it.”
“My plans aren’t always the greatest, pet, I know that. All I’m asking is that you let me at least try.”
“And I’m going to…now. I…I really don’t know what I was doing; I do know I’m sorry though. I’ll go start getting the picnic ready and you do whatever it is you are planning on doing. No more complaining from Buffy.”
Spike watched, not saying a word, as Buffy left the room and headed downstairs. He wanted tonight to be special for them—he had plans for the two of them.
They’d been keeping the whiteboard up to date—or rather he had. He was trying to keep it under one hundred just for tonight, but well…Buffy had been a little ‘eager’ the week before and they were quite a bit past one hundred now.
Seventeen past one hundred to be exact.
Carefully erasing nineteen tick marks from the white board, Spike set it back under the bed where he’d taken to storing it and went to take a shower. Hopefully it would not only help calm him down but also get him back in the mood to do what he needed to be done for his plan to succeed.
Buffy seriously hated acting so horribly towards Spike. She really didn’t mean to do it. It wasn’t like she did it often or anything…she just hated it when she did do it. And today…
Well today she’d taken another pregnancy test. She was three days late for her period and…well it had been enough time now that she could, technically, have been pregnant. Hell, it was still possible that she was and it just wasn’t registering with the test, yet.
But…well it had been hard to see that little blue negative sign again.
She didn’t think any man had ever seemed more excited over the possibility over possibly having a child than Spike did. Ever since that day they’d first started talking about it—and especially since she stopped taking her birth control pills—he would make random comments about something child related and…
She felt like she was letting him down by not getting pregnant yet.
Now, as a result, she’d acted like a full on bitca and hurt his feelings.
Could she do anything right?
Buffy decided to put her all into preparing their picnic, hoping it would act as a small token of her atonement. She took out the means, mayonnaise, mustard, lettuce, tomatoes, and bread and set to work.
Spike knew Buffy thought they would be going to see the fireworks in the park, just like they had for several years in a row already—albeit as friends; but tonight he had something different planned.
They lived in a house and it was time for him to take advantage of the fact.
He just had to get ready.
“William? Do you want mayonnaise on—What are you doing? You can’t wear that to the park,” Buffy—Buffy who had run upstairs to ask him about his sandwich preferences and interrupted his preparations—said.
“I’ll uh…I’ll be ready in time,” he covered quickly. “Don’t worry.”
“Sure,” she replied slowly and he wasn’t sure she believed him.
“What was it you were asking ‘bout mayonnaise?”
“For your tuna salad sandwich, do you want mayonnaise on the bread?”
“No thanks, luv; just what’s already in it.”
“Okay. I’ll just go finish them. And really,” she told him, “be ready on time.” With one last look to his lounge pants and lack of shirt, Buffy sighed and returned downstairs to finish their picnic preparation.
Well, Spike mused, she was right that he couldn’t wear his current attire to the park; and at least she’d found him on one of his return trips from the roof so he was empty handed. If she’d seen him on his way up—or had to go up there to find him…well his plan would be done for, that’s for sure.
He needed to hurry.
“Spike! You promised me you’d be ready on time. I don’t want to miss finding somewhere good to sit.”
“What?” she was still agitated with him.
“We’re not going to the park.”
“What do you mean we’re not—This had better not be you being mad at me about what I said earlier because I”ll go—“
“Had this planned even before you went and called me a girl, pet,” he was still slightly sore on the subject. “Supposed to be a surprise for you; but you’re not making it too easy.”
“Well you keeping me from seeing the fireworks isn’t a very good surprise!” Buffy pouted.
“You really think I’d keep you from seeing the fireworks? You practically live for ‘em.”
“Then why are we not going to the park?”
“You can’t just trust me?”
Ohh! He just had to go and throw that in, didn’t he?
“Fine. What are we doing?”
“Not going to just tell you like that. You wait right here and I’ll just take this,” he took the picnic basket in his hand, “and make sure everything’s ready. Won’t take but a minute or two and then I’ll come get you.”
Buffy watched him carry the picnic basket through the house and out of sight and tried to figure out what he was doing; where he was going.
“You’re still not very good at snooping round, love,” Spike said, still facing the candles he was in the process of lighting.
“Well I wouldn’t have been snooping if you hadn’t taken so long—and what are you doing anyway?”
Spike knew she wasn’t actually chastising him—more attempting to defend herself because she knew she wasn’t supposed to be sneaking around, trying to find out what he was doing.
“Told you it was going to be a surprise. Not my fault you couldn’t wait just a few minutes.”
“Fine; I’ll wait. But I’m doing it standing right here,” she pouted and crossed her arms, preparing to wait him out.
“Have fun,” and he continued lighting the candles.
“Something you wanted to say?” Spike asked a few minutes later when Buffy’s muttering had become more than a little amusing to him.
“Nope, not a thing. You just carry on,” she said and promptly continued her mumbled muttering about surprises and unfairness.
Soon the good-sized widow’s walk was illuminated by candles and Spike knew he was almost ready to start the night’s festivities.
“So, what’d you take it down to? 88? 89 maybe?” Buffy asked after they’d finished their mini picnic and were lying on the blanket waiting for the fireworks to start.
“Ninetey-eight,” he answered and pulled her closer to him. He was glad he had insisted on the closed in railing when they were renovating things—now way would Buffy have agreed to this if everyone and their Great Aunt Frances could see them.
“Yeah right. Seriously, what’d you change it to?” Buffy moved to get up and get the white board that was sitting a few feet away, but Spike tightened his hold on her to stop her.
“I told you, just ninety-eight. I have plans for tonight, pet.” He wanted them to get to one hundred or at leasat ninety-nine tonight and work up to the one hundred and thirteen over the next several months--even if they were technically already there.
“Of the not sex variety?”
“Yes of the not sex variety, my little nympho,” he teased.
Buffy pouted for several seconds before coming up with yet another question. “You do realize you went through all of this trouble for a holiday that you shouldn’t even technically be celebrating.
“True; but I figured if it’s going to be something my wife celebrates, I might as well get into it.”
“Well, uh, I guess that’s a good reason—Oooh! Look! The fireworks are starting.”
“Shhh,” she hissed, “I’m watching the fireworks.”
“Exactly, you’re ‘watching’ them; my talking shouldn’t be a problem.” He started unbuttoning her shirt, wondering if she knew this was why he had bought her several button up shirts over the last few months.
“What are you doing, William?”
”Just talking; now, are you going to answer my question?”
“I guess…what did you want to say?” Buffy continued to watch the fireworks as he sat her up slightly to pull the shirt entirely off and unhook her bra.
“Were you not listening to me?”
“About what?” she asked and blindly started pulling his own shirt over his head, effectively stopping him from removing her skirt.
“About my celebrating the Fourth of July.”
“I was listening,” she pouted, finding it harder and harder to pay attention to the fireworks the more clothing was shed.
“So you didn’t catch that that was me trying to ask you to marry me?”
“What?!” Buffy gave up entirely on watching the fireworks and turned her attention to her nearly naked boyfriend.
“That bit bout my wife celebrating? That was my attempt at being subtle, kitten.”
“Who tries to be subtle in a marriage proposal?”
“Only an idiot apparently.”
“Hey, no being sad, mister! You just…I wasn’t expecting it is all.”
“Told you it was a surprise.”
“I…Will you ask me again? Not subtly this time?”
“Will you marry me, Buffy?”
Buffy smiled as another group of fireworks cracked overhead.
“I reserve the right to yell at you later for doing this when we’re both half naked so I have to lie to our kids when they ask how you proposed,” she informed him.
“So you’re saying yes?”
“Of course I’m saying yes you big dummy!” Buffy tried blinking to clear her eyes of the tears but it was really no use.
“So later you’re yelling…what is it you’re going to do now?” Spike asked instead of addressing her answer, not able to find the right words no matter how many ran through his mind.
“Proving to you that you should have taken it down lower than one twelve.”
and a thank you to Manda for reading this over for me :)