*coughs* wow…I uh, I meant to post this on the 21st…but I got caught up in family stuff. So, sorry this is two weeks late!
The song is ‘collide’ by howie day
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Spike knocked on the door, standing nervously on the ‘Welcome!’ mat. The knob twisted and the lock clicked as Buffy opened it.
“Oh,” she said, brushing the hair out of her eyes. “Hi…”
“Hey,” he said, lifting his hand in a small wave. “Listen, I was…” he stopped when he noticed what she was wearing; a light blue, floor length gown that molded to her every curve. She nervously adjusted the straps, and he stared when the gown shimmered like water at the slightest movement.
When she glanced back inside nervously, he asked, “Am I…interrupting something?”
---
The dawn is breaking
A light shining through
You're barely waking
And I'm tangled up in you
Yeah
---
“What?” she said, turning around to face him. “Oh, no. It’s just…” She turned again and looked towards the now shut door. “It’s not a good time.” She turned to him. “My sister, Dawn, is here, and she…she kind of hates you.”
“Buffy, this whole TOWN hates me. I think I can-”
“She bought a poster of you, wrote ‘BASTARD’ on it and then lit it on fire. And that’s before any of this happened. ‘This’, meaning you and me.”
“Oh,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “I guess this IS a bad time then.”
---
I'm open, you're closed
Where I follow, you'll go
I worry I won't see your face
Light up again
---
“Yeah,” she said, still turning around every few seconds to look at the door. “So, what are you-”
She never got to finish her sentence, because at that moment, the door swung open, revealing a brunette in her late teens. “Buffy, what’s taking so long? I was beginning to get worr-” She finally caught Spike in the corner and narrowed her eyes dangerously. “You. You know, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to castrate someone. Looks like I get to find out.”
---
Even the best fall down sometime
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme
Out of the doubt that fills my mind
I somehow find, you and I collide
---
She began to move forward when her sister’s arm shot out and she said, “Dawn. Not now.”
“What?” Dawn frowned, turning to face her sister. “Why?”
“Because. If he came here to talk, then we’re going to talk,” Buffy said, using her best Mom-voice. “Now, go get ready for the wedding.”
Dawn rolled her eyes before storming up the stairs, muttering to herself.
“Oh,” Spike said, casting his eyes to his shoes, which were very interesting all of the sudden. “’S right…the twenty-first and all.”
“Yeah,” she said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “Listen, it’s cold. You want to come inside?”
“Nah,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll just go.”
---
I'm quiet, you know
You make a first impression
I've found I'm scared to know
I'm always on your mind
---
He was halfway down the sidewalk and to his car when she spoke. “William…he wants to see you.”
He turned around, staring at her.
“I-I mean, you ARE his father…he’s been asking where you went. That’s all.”
He continued to stare at her, and she grew uncomfortable. “Unless, you don’t want-”
“Oh,” he said, shaking his head and bringing him out of his trance. “I’ll come. It’s just…kind of surprised me there. It is a truckload of manly responsibility come flying out of nowhere.”
She offered a small, tentative smile before walking back into the house.
---
Even the best fall down sometime
Even the stars refuse to shine
Out of the back you fall in time
I somehow find, you and I collide
---
___
“Da!” William shrieked as soon as he saw Spike. “Da!”
“Hey, buddy,” Spike said, swinging the boy into his arms. “How’s my guy?”
William scrunched up his small face and pulled at his church clothes. “Ick,” he said.
“‘Ick’?!” Spike gasped in mock horror. “Oh no! Not the dreaded ICK!” He held William a small distance away from him, and ran his eyes over the boy’s form as if inspecting him before hugging the child to him. “You know,” he whispered. “The only way to cure ‘ick’…is TICKLING!” He dug his fingers into his son’s stomach, sending the child into a fit of giggles.
When he stopped, William smacked his tiny palms against his father’s cheeks. “Silly Da,” he giggled.
Spike grinned despite his attempts to look horrified. “Silly, am I? I’ll show you silly!”
---
Don't stop here
I've lost my place
I'm close behind
---
He untucked William’s shirt, exposing his son’s small belly, before placing his mouth on the soft skin and blowing a raspberry on it, launching the boy into giggles.
And Buffy watched them, unnoticed, and a single thought flickered in the back of her mind:
My boys…
She shook her head when she realized that Spike was snapping his fingers in front of her face. “What?”
“Hey,” Spike said, balancing William on his hip. “What you thinking about?”
“Oh…um, nothing, really. I just…” she trailed off, unsure of what to say to him. Nervously, she glanced at the clock in the kitchen. Her eyes widened and she held out her arms for William. “Good God, we’ve got to be at the church in ten minutes!”
Spike handed their son over to her, and said, “So you’re what in this wedding?”
“Maid of honor. Have you seen my purse?” Not waiting for an answer, she walked to the foot of the stairs. “Dawn!”
“What!”
“We’ve got to go, have you seen my purse?”
“The blue one with the silver chain?”
“Yeah!”
There were a few stomping noises, and Dawn appeared at the top of the stairs in a gown that matched Buffy’s. “It’s by the door,” she said, walking over to the mirror and putting her earrings in.
Buffy walked over to the door, picked up her purse, and said, “Hey, Spike? Can you open the door for me?”
“Sure.” He opened the door for her, and she distractedly kissed him on the cheek as she walked out.
Dawn followed her, pausing at the door. She turned to face the star and said, “Listen. I don’t like you. I hate you, and I really wish that you had never come to this town.”
Unfazed, he said, “Okay.”
“That’s it? No snarky, cocky remark?” He shook his head, and she glared at him suspiciously. “What do you want with us? You’re famous, you could have anyone you want and throw them to the side. I mean, you’ve never had a problem with it before. What are you trying to prove, showing up here?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” She rolled her eyes. “How original. But if you don’t know what you’re going to do with my sister, then get the hell out of Sunnydale.” She walked out the door, not sparing him another glance.
He watched from their doorway, a contemplative look on his face as he remembered her question: “What are you trying to prove?”
“I don’t know, Niblet. I just don’t know.”
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