He stepped through the double doors, held open for him by two polite doormen, bidding him a good evening. Well, if his plans went well, it would be a great evening indeed. He looked at his watch. *Well, there goes the great evening; I'm already late.* he thought.

Stepping into the lounge, he suddenly felt underdressed. He'd just returned from a quick patrol and had thrown on the first non-wrinkled, non-dust-covered outfit he could find; black slacks, a white tank top, and a silk, navy blue button-up shirt over top, leaving the top three buttons undone. He approached the coat check and handed his long, black, leather duster to the lady behind the desk. She smiled and gave him his ticket and he headed towards the lounge where he would meet her, noticing that all of the men were dressed in business suits and some even in tuxes.

His eyes drifted over the inhabitants of the room, complete with tables, booths and a bar to offer a place to sit while people waited for their tables in the dining room. He did a double take as he spotted her standing beside the bar, looking absolutely exquisite in a fitted floor-length red dress that shimmered under the lights, making everything else around her seem dark in comparison. The thin strap tied around her neck leaving her bronzed shoulders uncovered, as well as a long slit over her right thigh, revealing more tanned skin, and as she turned to talk to another young lady also waiting for her date, he saw that it bared her entire back right down to her waist exposing her soft, smooth, tanned flesh. Her blonde hair was pinned up in loose curls, displaying her bare neck to him, with a few wisps hanging down and she turned back to her drink sitting on the bar, a coke no doubt, and stirred it with the small cocktail straw before capturing it between her lips. Just watching her sip her drink was more than enough to catch his non-existent breath in his throat.

She glanced up at the clock, a slight pout crossing her features. Seeing this made him snap out of his daze and make his way through the crowd of tables, apologizing to the customers as he stumbled through, still in awe at the vixen's dazzling beauty. As he neared her, she seemed to feel his presence and turned to face him. Glaring slightly, but smiling, she waited for him to reach her. "You're late." she said, pouting up at him though her long eyelashes.

"Yeah, I know, pet. I'm sorry." he apologized. "You look absolutely stunning, Buffy." He took her hands in his and leaned forward to kiss her gently.

Before their lips met, her right hand escaped his left and she held a finger against his lips. "You made me wait; you owe me." she said, grinning alluringly.

"Well, work was busy tonight; there were quite a few...customers." he censored his words for any nearby eavesdroppers.

"You handled it okay though?" she asked.

"I managed with only a few minor bruises." he replied.

"Let's go sit; our table has been waiting for the past ten minutes." she said. They clasped hands and made their way back through the crowd, though she seemed to fare easier than he did. It was almost as if the chairs parted for her, and then moved back to obstruct his path...almost as if he wasn't fit to be with her. He shook that thought from his head. *She chose you, remember, Spike?* he reminded himself.

They approached the host's stand, Spike standing behind her, receiving full view of her back and shoulders, the dress hugging her every curve and he thanked the Powers for granting him his ultimate desire...her love. She was the only woman he'd loved in all of his existence on Earth and he was blessed to have it returned to him just as intensely.

Five years. Five absolutely magnificent years spent at her side, eight if he counted the three years previous to their marriage. After Buffy returned from her death in the dimensional portal, she faced a difficult life without her slaying powers, wondering where her place was, and dealing with her fears. She'd turned to Spike during that time and he helped her through it, eventually earning a place in her heart and receiving a piece in return. But their puppy love had grown to an immeasurable amount neither had thought possible; after all, she was still a human and he a vampire.

"A reservation for 'Sinclair'." Buffy replied politely when prompted by the host.

Led through a maze of tables, the man showed them to their seats. Pulling Buffy's chair out for her, Spike caught scent of the soft vanilla perfume she always wore, mixed with the scent of her silken hair and sun-kissed skin, causing a low purr to escape his throat as she sat down and he guided her chair to the table. Taking his own seat across from her, the host handed them menus, bowed his head slightly and left to retrieve their waiter.

"Look at these prices, Will," she whispered across the table. "They're higher than the mortgage."

"Don't worry about it, luv," he chuckled. "Pick whatever you want."

"I don't know why you chose this restaurant, of all places. And this dress..."

"Looks radiant on you." he finished.

She smiled at him and continued her sentence. "Must have cost you a fortune."

"You're worth every penny," he said, drinking in her beauty with his blue eyes. "Now, luv, pick your poison. Red or white wine?"

"With these prices, I'll have water," she decided. "It's healthier anyways."

"You sure?" he asked. Buffy nodded as the waiter approached. He smiled graciously at Buffy and turned to Spike, noticing his attire and turning his nose up slightly.

"Are you two ready to order?" he asked.

Spike narrowed his eyes at the waiter, who didn't notice. "You first, luv."

Buffy's eyes scanned the menu, drawn immediately to the pictures instead of the words. Spying something that looked delicious and not too expensive when compared to the other meals, she looked at her husband. "I'll just get the grilled chicken with a small salad, thank you." she said as the waiter scrawled down her order.

"And you, sir?"

"A nice steak, very rare." he said, flashing his golden eyes to the waiter who became a little nervous.

"Very good, would you like any drinks?"

"No, thanks, just water is fine," Buffy replied with a smile, knowing damn well her husband wouldn't touch the water. The waiter left their table and she glared at Spike. "What the hell was that about?"

"He was stuck-up...had a problem with my clothes or something." he reasoned.

"Well, you did choose the place, you should've known to dress more formal. You bought this dress for me...surely you knew you would stand out."

"I'm not a formal dresser...I wear what I want, when I want, and don't give a damn what people think."

"Right. Except waiters." she teased.

Spike chuckled slightly. "Anyway, how was work today?" he asked.

"It was work. Actually it was pretty good. I got a couple new clients and they're interested in the house on Baccard Street. If I sell that one, we're looking at a good chunk of commission." she said, grinning.

"That's excellent. I know you can do it; you can sell anything to anyone. Hell, I'd drink holy water if you suggested it."

"Well, I'll keep that in mind if I ever get sick of you." she said lightheartedly.

About fifteen minutes later, after talking, laughing, and just relishing the time to themselves, their meals arrived and they ate in silence, enjoying each other's company and sharing looks across the table.

Sipping her water slowly, she looked at Spike, finishing the last bit of his steak. She silently slipped off a shoe, her foot finding Spike's ankle. He looked at her without raising his head and she grinned mischievously. Her foot slowly worked its way up his calf, lightly tickling his nerves, earning his full attention, her actions hidden by the long tablecloth. Sliding her foot along his inner thigh gently, back and forth, before removing her foot and slipping her shoe back on. Spike became agitated with the sudden loss of attention. The warm blood from his steak coursed through his veins, making him feel stronger and more alert. As well as eager to finish what his wife had started.

Buffy tipped her head slightly, her curls bouncing slightly as she did, and Spike signaled for the check. The waiter swiftly brought it to their table and the bleached vampire handed him a credit card from his wallet, never breaking eye contact with his beloved.

As the waiter left the table, Buffy stood, Spike following and she slowly and seductively walked to him. She stepped in close to him, playing idly with the lapels of his silk shirt. "Give me a few minutes to get home first." she said, grinning mischievously before brushing her soft lips gently across his in a teasing kiss.

"Oh, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?" he sighed, looking into her sparkling hazel eyes.

"What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?" she whispered quietly.

"A lot more than that just a whisper of a kiss, luv." he replied, brushing a silky wisp of hair from her face.

"We'll see." she said, her eyes flashing with excitement and mischief. She grabbed her purse from the table and walked out of the dining room, digging through her belongings for her coat check ticket and car keys.

Spike stood in the dining room astounded by her beauty, grace, and ability to reduce him to a lovesick schoolboy. What he wouldn't give to follow her out to the car and show her just how lovesick he was right in the middle of the parking lot. That would give the parking valets a pretty good shock.

He held back his thoughts as the waiter returned a few minutes later, smirking as he did so. "Did the lady walk out on you sir? I'm very sorry." he said half-heartedly.

"Yeah, she went home to prepare for the best night of her life," Spike smirked right back. "I'm just giving her a head start."

The waiter handed him back his card and Spike snatched it out of his hand. "This is a nice place," he commented. "It's too bad they had to hire you." He walked out of the dining room and back to the coat check, handing the girl his ticket and she blushed as she returned his jacket, smiling coyly at him. He smiled at her and winked before shrugging on his duster and heading out the double doors into the cool evening air. It was a wonderful night, and it looked to be the perfect evening.

The valet quickly brought his car and he set off for the drive home, being sure to take the long way through town. If Buffy needed time, she'd get time...even if she didn't want lots of it. Two could play the teasing game.

After a good fifteen minutes of driving around town and listening to music in his car, Spike pulled into the driveway of their home on Revello Drive. The same home Buffy had lived in since she first moved to Sunnydale. He parked his old Desoto beside his wife's Rav 4 and headed toward the house.

Walking through the front door, his acute senses picked up the tiniest hints that his wife was planning something fishy. It was either his senses or the long-stemmed white rose taped to the door and the numerous scented candles on every table, vanilla of course. The bright flames lit the dim room, casting eerie shadows on the walls that seemed to dance to a rhythm he couldn't hear.

Dropping his car keys carelessly on the table to his left, he removed his duster and hung it on the coat rack behind the door. "Buffy?" he called in a hushed whisper. "You upstairs, luv?" No answer. He slowly and quietly crept through the living room to the kitchen, from which a soft glow of light emanated.

And there she sat, his queen, his entire universe, sitting at the kitchen table picking away at a store-bought banana cream pie. Standing silently in the doorway, he watched her, hoping she wouldn't notice him. But he knew it would be impossible as they had an unexplainable ability to sense each other whenever they were near each other. Neither knew how or why, but it helped to illustrate the fact that they were soulmates.

"I said a few minutes, Will, not twenty." she pouted, scooping a small bite of pie into her mouth. He watched as she licked every smidgen of filling from her spoon and suddenly felt extremely sorry for leaving her alone for so long.

"I'm sorry, pet, I just thought I'd give you a bit more time. Looks like you used it pretty well too," he said, looking at the numerous candles everywhere. "Where'd you get all these from anyway?"

She stood and walked towards him and he noticed she had changed from her elegant red dress into a long, white satin robe, tied loosely around her waist, flashing her bronzed legs as she walked. "That's twice in one night...a special night. You owe me double now." She stopped just in front of him; no more than two inches away. Spike felt the heat radiating off of her body and suddenly realized she wasn't close enough. He reached up and put a hand on her cheek, leaning down to kiss her gently, his cool lips on her warm ones sending a shiver down her spine. His tongue bid entrance to her mouth as they kissed, and was rewarded when her lips parted. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed herself against him, his hands on her hips, pulling her nearer to him.

To Spike's dismay, she broke the kiss and looked into his eyes, smiling that smile she used when she wanted him to do something for her. "Why don't you go downstairs and get us a drink?" she asked. That definitely wasn't the something he was hoping it would be.

He opened the door to the basement and descended the stairs, approaching the wine rack and pulling out a bottle of white wine. Reading the label, he smirked. Wine was for pansies. Replacing the bottle on the rack, he opened a cupboard, pulling out a bottle of vodka. Now that was a drink. Not a romantic, lets-make-love-in-front-of-the-fireplace-with-lit-candles-all-around-us-and-soft-music-playing-on-the-stereo drink, but still a good drink. But Buffy didn't like the taste of vodka, but there was coke upstairs; she could mix it. He turned around to find her right behind him, having shed her long robe to reveal a short, matching nightgown, cutting off mid-thigh. She slid her arms around his waist as she leaned up to kiss him.

What he expected to be a soft kiss was anything but that, as Buffy crushed her lips to his. He was caught off guard by it and nearly dropped the bottle to the floor. He kissed her back with just as much fire and passion as she delivered to him, if not more. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. They continued to kiss as he rested her back against a wall, setting the vodka on a nearby table. Her nimble fingers began unbuttoning his shirt, and he slid the garment off of his arms, ready to toss it to the floor.

Buffy broke the kiss, breathing deeply, her eyelids heavy. "Don't drop it on the floor, honey." she breathed.

"What?!" Spike hissed. He couldn't believe his ears. Here they were, in a moment of blind passion and Buffy was lecturing him about laundry habits...which proved she wasn't that blind. He sighed and dropped the shirt on the table, hoisting Buffy up so he wouldn't drop her. She was getting rather heavy.

Spike slid a hand up her nightgown, gently cupping her breast, feeling its weight, toying with her already hard nipple, and kissing her hot mouth. God, how he loved kissing her; her tongue dueling with his cold one, the way she nibbled on his bottom lip, and when she sucked on his tongue, he felt like dying...again.

She pulled away from him, breathless and gasping for air. She leaned her head against the wall as she panted, eyes closed as if they'd already made love, which Spike found more erotic than anything. She then held him close and whispered into his ear, her breath tickling his skin and her words melting his heart. "I love you, Spike."

She pulled back and looked at him, leaning back against the wall. Their eyes locked for a moment and held, until Spike became painfully aware of the straining he felt below his belt. He leaned down to kiss her again, but she held him back with her hands. "You okay?"

"The brick is digging into my back," she pouted. "I don't like being a pincushion. Take me upstairs?"

She flashed him an innocent smile and he couldn't resist. She leaned down and placed light kisses on his neck, nibbling and licking his skin, and occasionally sucking on his Adam's apple. It was difficult walking up a set of stairs with Buffy wrapped tightly around his waist doing amazingly good things to his neck, a shirt and a bottle of vodka as well as his wife in his arms, not to mention a distracting tension that ached to be released in his slacks.

Surprisingly, he made it up the stairs, his wife never stopping the teasing of his nerves. She rocked slightly, grinding herself against him, wanting release just as much as he did. Halfway up the stairs he had felt like dropping her right there and giving them both the blinding ecstasy that they so desperately craved.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he used his foot to close the basement door, and felt that stopping at the kitchen table was much easier than climbing another set of stairs leading to the bedroom. He dropped the bottle and his shirt on the table, sat Buffy down on it, and unhooked her legs from around his waist so he could step back, noticing the heady scent of her arousal, which only served to add to his own.

She grabbed his arms and pulled him against her, causing him to fall forward. He planted a hand on either side of her to brace himself. Buffy looked down at his hand and burst out laughing. It took him a minute to realize what had happened and lifted his left hand, now covered with banana cream pie filling.

Only Spike wasn't laughing. His jaw was set in an annoyed grin, disbelieving his poor luck tonight. Buffy took hold of his wrist, and brought his hand up to her mouth. She licked the side of his index finger, starting at the knuckle and slowly making her way to the tip before taking his finger into her mouth.

Closing her lips around his finger she sucked hard, swallowing all the remnants of the pie. Spike's eyes widened in a shock of pleasure at the sensations of the muscles in her mouth, her tongue, twisting around his finger. As she slid his finger out of her mouth, she scraped his skin lightly with her teeth and he hissed in delight. She repeated the action with each digit until his hand was clean. All he could do was stand there and stare at her in numb shock. It had been exhilarating.

Wanting to give her the same pleasure she'd given him, he leaned forward and kissed her, slipping her nightgown up over her hips to see that she was wearing a lacy black thong and a grin a mile wide. Her fingers raked over his chest, causing him to growl softly. She quickly found the hem of his tank top and pulled it off of him, her eyes sweeping over his toned muscles before she began trailing wet kisses along his collarbone and down his chest. Her hands worked furiously at his belt buckle and she growled in frustration, as she couldn't unhook the catch.

Spike chuckled and undid his belt with no problem. "Guess it's the same as women's bras...some guys just can't seem to get them off; poor blokes."

She slid the belt out of his pants, took an end in either hand, and looped it over his head, resting it on the back of his neck and pulling him in for a steamy kiss. She wrapped her arms around him and slid to the edge of the table so their bodies were pressed full against each other, her legs straddling his hips. He could feel the heat of her arousal against his bare stomach, and ached to be inside her.

As she unbuttoned his slacks, he lifted her nightgown up over her head, gazing at her slender body with lust and appreciation. Lowering his head, he took a nipple into her mouth, nibbling on the hard pebble and flicking over it with his tongue, making her gasp in ecstasy as her hands threaded through his hair. Repeating his actions to her other breast, she pulled his head up to hers, their lips meeting in a bruising kiss.

Suddenly Buffy jumped and let out a squeak as she hid herself behind her husband as third person walked into the kitchen. Spike turned his head when he heard the familiar voice asking for his attention.

"Daddy?" the voice asked.

Spike quickly but carefully zipped and buttoned his slacks before turning to face his three-year-old daughter, Sierra, as Buffy pulled her nightgown and robe back on, having left it on the table before going downstairs. Tying a knot in the robe's belt, she jumped down from the kitchen table.

"Mommy?" she echoed in the same unsure tone, clutching a ratty, brown teddy bear, obviously having seen better days, to her chest. In fact, it was missing its button eyes. "What you doing?" she asked curiously.

Spike and Buffy froze, and glanced at each other nervously, their minds racing for something to say. Without thinking, they both blurted out a reply, only they were very different and very bad covers.

"Your mum lost an earring somewhere, short stuff."

"We were eating pie, honey."

Their eyes widened and they glanced at each other and Spike spoke up. "See, we lost the earring in the pie, so we're trying to find it." he said quickly. Buffy scoffed at his reasoning, but suddenly straightened up as he shot her a look.

Sierra yawned. "I'm sleepy...where did Aunt Willow go?" she asked. "She read a story."

Buffy smiled at her daughter. "Well, when I got home you were sleeping so she couldn't say goodbye." she said, walking forward and scooping up her daughter. "But she'll be back for a visit soon and she can finish the story then, okay?"

The little girl nodded and buried her head against the crook of her mother's neck. Buffy kissed her daughter's head and smiled at Spike. It had been prophesized that the undead Slayer and the "demonic human" would "bring forth into this world an Immortal to create balance on the side of good". The "demonic human" referring to Spike because although he didn't have a soul, he was as close to a human as a demon could get.

Of course they hadn't planned on having children, in fact, they couldn't, and only found out about the prophecy five weeks into the extremely unexpected pregnancy. Nonetheless, they were thrilled about having a child that was theirs. Of course Buffy wasn't too thrilled that her daughter had a difficult destiny to fulfill once she reached the age of 18, Giles reassured her that an Immortal was much more powerful than any demon known to man and with the proper training, would be a formidable opponent to any evil that crossed her path.

Soon their daughter was asleep and she left the duty of cleaning up the pie and candles, still burning brightly, to Spike, who had accepted the fact that the mood was effectively ruined for the night, and carried their child upstairs to her bedroom.

Spike sighed and began collecting the candles, the room dimming with each lost flame. Heading out into the living room, he extinguished the candles in it as well, carrying them to the kitchen table. Altogether there must've been about three dozen of them and he felt disappointed to know that Buffy had gone to all the trouble to make a perfect evening, and they hadn't even been able to fully enjoy it. He opened the vodka bottle and poured himself a glass. "Cheers to you, bad luck, for making an appearance tonight." he said before downing the drink in one gulp. He looked around the kitchen. Candles and clothes littered the tables, and Spike decided it could wait until tomorrow.

He ascended the stairs and peered into the nursery. Buffy lay beside Sierra on her bed, reading a story out of a book of fairytales. He smiled at the site and quietly crept down the hall to the master bedroom. Pulling off his slacks, he climbed into bed, tense and frustrated at the night's turn of events. Things just weren't going their way tonight.

Then he felt that familiar twinge of warmth spread through his body, as he sensed his mate, and turned to see his satin-clad wife leaning against the doorframe seductively. "She's asleep for good this time." she said, flashing him a sneaky grin. She shut the door behind her, shedding her robe and nightgown before joining her husband in bed.

She pulled him against her, her lips meeting with his, their tongues dueling playfully as their hands explored each other's bodies. "Honey, I think you and I are way past foreplay tonight," Buffy panted as Spike nibbled her earlobe, trailing kisses down her throat to her breasts. "Mmmm, but you can keep doing that if you want."

Spike captured her mouth in a searing kiss once more as he sheathed himself in her hot, wet channel. He moaned into her mouth and calmed his senses that had suddenly decided to go haywire; she was so hot, so tight. It was all he could do to stop himself from coming that second.

Slowly he began to move inside her, pulling out in slow, nearly painful motion, only to thrust himself back into her. As he steadily pumped in and out of her, he reached a hand down between them to stimulate her sensitive center, softly massaging the nub of flesh. Feeling the pleasure ripple through her body, he bucked against him, panting and whimpering as she did so, wrapping her legs around his waist to take him in deeper. It wasn't long before she was thrown over the edge, gripping Spike's back as she thrashed underneath him and moaned his name. She lay still for a minute, breathing deeply, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her eyelids heavy with satisfaction as she recuperated.

Spike kissed her again, continuing his ministrations on her sensitive core, his thrusting becoming faster and more vigorous. She rocked underneath him, meeting him thrust for thrust and as she came harder the second time, her inner muscles clamped around his hard shaft, adding stimulation to his own release. They cried out each other's names and collapsed against each other in a blissfully boneless heap.

As they lay together after regaining their senses, Buffy wrapped in Spike's protective embrace, she looked in his eyes.

"Happy anniversary, Will."

"Happy anniversary, pet."
 

THE END