Late August 1997
London, England
Buffy and Willow stood in the now-empty living space of Buffy and William’s apartment.
“Well,” Willow said, “Looks like that’s the last of it.”
Buffy nodded slowly, “Yep. Looks like.”
Willow turned swiftly towards Buffy, “So, ready to move into your much bigger and much nicer home?”
“Yeah.” Buffy began walking around, “Just wanna say goodbye to this place. You know, it’s the first place we lived in together since getting married. Lots of nice memories.”
Willow followed her friend as Buffy traced her fingers along the walls and the cabinets. “Of course. But you’ll always have those memories. And you’ll be able to make new ones. In your new home.”
“I know,” Buffy said absently. Looking around the empty place, she pointed out various spots, saying, “There’s where he carried me over the threshold. There’s where I sat all day, writing that damned bane of my existence. There’s where a cooking experiment went horribly wrong. And there’s where William did this thing with his -” She went silent abruptly, blushing as she remembered her present company.
Willow placed her hands on Buffy’s shoulders, steering her towards the door, “And I’ll just file that under TMI.”
Buffy blushed again.
“You chits ready yet?” William’s voice sounded as he entered.
Willow smiled at him, “Yeah. Buffy just had a quick trip down memory lane.”
Spike smirked, “That right?” He looked at his wife, “Done yet?”
Buffy grinned and nodded, “Yep.”
He moved towards her and suddenly picked her up, swinging her across his shoulder, fireman’s style. “Let’s go, love. Time’s awastin’.”
Buffy squealed and pounded on his back with her fists, “William! Put me down!”
Willow laughed loudly as she followed the couple, closing the door behind her.
************
“Where do you want these?” Willow asked, picking up a few picture frames.
Buffy looked away from the bookshelf, where she had been arranging the books according to subject. “Ooh, the mantle.”
Willow nodded and placed them carefully on the fireplace mantle. She smiled as she looked at the photos. One, in a beautiful white frame, was Buffy and Spike’s wedding picture. Another featured them in standing outside Stonehenge, both grinning widely.
The trio had spent most of the day bringing in the big furniture pieces and now the women were arranging knick knacks and other little things to make the place more homey. Spike, proclaiming that decorating was a job for women, got out of it by promising to go out for food, for which both women were thankful.
“You two are so cute together,” Willow gushed, looking at the photos she just placed on the mantle.
“What?” Buffy turned around. She blushed, “Oh. You really think so?”
Willow nodded, “Definitely.” She moved away from the pictures back to the box. “I hope I can find what you two have,” she said a little sadly.
“Well, give it a little more time. I’m sure Mr. Right-for-you is out there somewhere.”
“I suppose.” She gave herself a quick shake and turned to Buffy. “Sorry.” She gave a look around the spacey apartment. “Well, I guess that’s it?”
************
Spike stood quietly in line, waiting his turn to order. The place was somewhat busy. Busier than he thought it’d be. A couple more people still waited in front of him. He was pleased that no one so far noticed him. While he loved his fans and was always courteous to them, it was still a little unnerving to have complete strangers come up to him, knowing who he was. In a way, it sort of put him at a disadvantage. And sometimes it was a little alarming. And disturbing. Like the middle-aged lady from the other day. He was giving her a hug when suddenly he felt a pinch on his ass. It shocked him. And scared him a little, too, not that he would ever admit that out loud.
He moved forward a little as the person at the front moved out of the way and the line shuffled.
He had absolutely no problem dealing with true fans. Those who were fans of the music. Who understood the music. He didn’t much like being treated as a piece of meat. The lady who had pinched his ass then asked him if he was up for it. With his wife standing not ten feet away.
Needless to say, Buffy had gotten incensed. And he couldn’t help but admit that he got a little turned on watching his tiny five-foot-nothing wife tear into the older woman.
He moved forward again. Finally, he was at the front of the line.
Spike smirked a little at the memory of his petite wife shouting at the older taller woman, threatening her, when he noticed Acid Reign’s album sitting out on the counter, near the cashier’s arm. The kid had yet to look up, busy pushing buttons on the cash register. Spike quickly decided he wasn’t going to draw attention to himself. He’d just look desperate for attention. And pathetic. No need for that.
“What can I get for you?” the college kid said, still looking down.
Spike began to rattle out his order, looking at the menu overhead and the slip of paper with Buffy and Willow’s preferences.
When he finished, the young man finally looked up, giving him his total. Spike fetched his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out the money. As he handed it over to the cashier, he noticed the kid’s eyes had widened significantly.
“You’re Spike,” he stated.
Spike smirked, “Do I look like him?”
The kid nodded.
“Then I must be ‘im.”
The kid grabbed up his album, “Can I have your autograph?”
“Course,” Spike said, taking the CD and, using a pen he found himself always carrying, signed it for the kid.
“T-Thanks,” the kid said. He handed Spike his order.
“You’re welcome.”
“Here we are, m’ladies,” Spike said as he entered the apartment. He dropped a kiss on Buffy’s lips as she greeted him, quickly taking the food from him and into the kitchen. Spike looked around their home, “Finished already?”
“Yeah,” Willow said, giving him a brief wave in greeting. She and Spike followed Buffy into the kitchen, where she was already digging into her food.
“What?” Buffy asked, looking at their faces. “I’m hungry.”
They were interrupted by a shrill ring tone. Spike jumped at the sound, but quickly recovered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cell. He groaned when he looked at the caller ID.
He was really not wanting to deal with work today.
He looked at the two women. “Lorne. I’ll go into the bedroom to deal with him. Go ahead and get started.”
He flipped the phone open on his way to the bedroom, and barked, “What?”
Lorne was completely unfazed by the unfriendly greeting he received from his client. “Hello to you, too, cheekbones. You are a very difficult man to get a hold of. I‘ve been calling all day.”
Spike closed the door behind him, “Moving day, remember? I had my phone off most of the day.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, forgot, cupcake.”
Spike ignored the colorful pet names his manager always gave him, completely used to it by now. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I take it you haven’t heard the news yet?”
“What news?”
“Oh, sweetie, you better sit down for this.”
************
Spike reentered the living room, where Buffy and Willow were seated around the coffee table, eating.
He flopped down next to his wife and grabbed his sandwich.
“What did Lorne want?” Buffy asked, looking at him, taking in his somewhat shocked face. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh, he wanted to tell me nominations for the BRITs came out today.”
Willow grinned, “Oh, which one did you guys get?”
He looked at her with a huge smile, “We got thirteen.”
END CHAPTER SEVENTEEN