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Author's Chapter Notes:
Title from 'The Question' by Pablo Neruda
Much thanks to everyone that has reviewed. I love hearing what you guys think. :)
The restaurant Spike had chosen wasn't too far away from their home. It was small and offered the sort of privacy he was looking for on this night and the short drive there was made in near silence. The only sound being that of William's favourite album playing low on the car stereo.

Buffy smiled sweetly at William as he reached for her hand, their fingers entwining atop the shift stick in between the seats so that he could still shift gears without letting her hand go.

To say William was nervous about tonight would be the understatement to end all understatements. He could feel a light sweat forming over his shaky hands, and he wondered if Buffy noticed. If she did, she didn't say anything and for that he was grateful. It wouldn't be fun to try to explain to his wife why exactly he was nervous without giving the punch line away.

Parking the car, Spike made his way to Buffy's side to help her out, pocketing the keys as he went.

"Love," he offered his hand and a smile as she carefully stepped out of the car.

"Thank you, sir." She playfully beamed at him, entwining her fingers with his as they walked the short distance to the entrance of the restaurant. He opened the door for her, his smile never falling, and ushered her in.








Watching as William took a fifth sip of his second glass of wine in the last five minutes and - Buffy eyed the clock elegantly hanging on the far back wall of the restaurant - twenty seven seconds, she knew something was seriously up. William was worried and nervous about something, exactly what it was, she didn't know, but it was starting to make her nervous as well.

Her husband wasn't one for keeping things to himself, always excited to share his news, good or bad, with whoever would stop and listen to him. It kept him from fidgeting too much, he had explained, but as she watched him play around with the food on his plate before taking a sixth, and then a few seconds later, a seventh sip, she was hoping he'd let it out soon or otherwise his nervous manners would surely send her into early labour.

Then again, there was nothing that stated she couldn't ask him herself. But as he met her eyes and smiled, his face flushing a deep crimson before he looked down at his plate and reached for his wine glass yet again, she knew that no matter how nervous he was making her, he was too cute and charming like this for her to be pushing him about it.








Spike was making a git of himself, and he knew it. Yet no matter how many times he told himself he wouldn't reach for his wine glass, it would take no more than a few seconds for the glass to be in his hand and the chilled red liquid to be sliding down his throat again.

Liquid courage. Wasn't that what it was called? Liquid or drunken? Because if he went through another glass as quickly as he had the last two, he feared it would be the latter.

'Conversation, then?' He thought, and glanced up to meet her eyes, which resulted in him blushing and reaching for his wine glass again, but then she giggled and he looked up to see her eyes lit up with humour and he felt silly for being nervous.

Spike smiled, licking his lips before bringing the bottom one in between his teeth, biting gently on it.

Buffy reached over the table placing the palm of her hand against his cheek smiling softly as he placed his hand atop hers.

"What is it?" She asked him and he closed his eyes, bringing her hand to his nose, breathing in the scent of her skin before leaving a kiss at the centre of her palm. He took her hand, his fingertips entwining with hers, and lowered it to the table before opening his eyes to stare straight at hers.

"I love you. You know that, blossom?" He smiled, voice low and slightly quavering.

"Of course I do." Buffy answered, concern slightly colouring her own voice. He was starting to scare her. William both nervous and reassuring was not always a good thing. "As you know I do, right?"

William stared at her eyes for a few moments, searching for the truth of her words and nodding as he found it. He let go of a breath he felt he had been holding all night and leaned back in his chair, his stare falling to the floor, eyes looking everywhere but at her as he tried to recall the words he had so dutifully practiced to perfection in front of the bathroom mirrors, both at home and at the restaurant before their dinner was to arrive.

Giving up, he smiled a self deprecating smile and looked up at their still entwined hands - hers small and delicate in contrast against his bigger one - for a few seconds before finally meeting her gaze again.

"I had this whole thing planned," he chuckled, slightly shaking his head. "I knew exactly what I wanted to say, and how I wanted to say it. I even practiced the pauses for dramatic effect," Spike laughed and looked away from Buffy's eyes for a moment before returning his gaze back to hers, "but now that we're here, and I'm... I can't remember a bloody thing, and I just... all I know, sweet, is that I love you. I think I always have, ever since that first night when you yelled at me and called me a jerk," he laughed and bit his bottom lip.

Reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket with his free hand he took out the small velvet jewellery box bringing it under the table and in between his knees to open it gently. His thumb checking, making sure that the ring was still there.

"I think I love you more everyday and..." he paused searching for words before giving up with a softly exclaimed "Sod it."

Bringing the opened box from under the table and placing it in front of his wife, his eyes having never left hers, he asked the question he'd been nervous about asking all night:

"Marry me?"





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