Chapter One - In the Morning

   "When you wake up in the morning, Pooh," said Piglet at last, "what's
the first thing you say to yourself?"
   "What's for breakfast?" said Pooh.  "What do *you* say, Piglet?"
   "I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting *today*?" said
Piglet.
   Pooh nodded thoughtfully.
   "It's the same thing," he said.
  -A. A. Milne, 'Winnie-the-Pooh'

*  *  *  *  *

I'll be your dream I'll be your wish I'll be your fantasy
I'll be your hope I'll be your love be everything that you need
I'll love you more with every breath truly madly deeply do
I will be strong I will be faithful 'cuz I'm counting on
A new beginning
A reason for living
A deeper meaning yeah

I want to stand with you on a mountain
I want to bathe with you in the sea
I want to lay like this forever
Until the sky falls down on me

And when the stars are shining brightly in the velvet sky
I'll make a wish send it to heaven and make you want to cry
The tears of joy for all the pleasure and the certainty
That we're surrounded by the comfort and protection
Of the highest powers
In lonely hours
The tears devour you

I want to stand with you on a mountain
I want to bathe with you in the sea
I want to lay like this forever
Until the sky falls down on me

Oh can you see it baby
You don't have to close your eyes
'Cuz it's standing right before you
All that you need will surely come

I'll be your dream I'll be your wish I'll be your fantasy
I'll be your hope I'll be your love be everything that you need
I'll love you more with every breath truly madly deeply do

I want to stand with you on a mountain
I want to bathe with you in the sea
I want to lay like this forever
Until the sky falls down on me

*  *  *  *  *

Spike had had a few of his own suggestions as to better ways the two of
them could spend his first day as a human, but Willow had insisted that
they show him off to the rest of the gang.  She pulled him through the
cool, damp grass, he reveling in the feel of the morning all the way.

"It's *cold*!  And *wet*!  And look!"  At this, he tightly gripped a
thorny vine growing along a wrought-iron fence.  "It doesn't heal right
off!  And...wait...bloody hell, that *hurts*!"

"And I wonder why that could be?" she sighed, grasping his hand and
inspecting the wound.  "It'll be okay.  Let's get you into the dorm so
we can clean this up."

"Dorm?  Is Buffy there?"

Willow stopped short.  "Yes.  Oh, boy.  This is gonna be interesting.
Well...keep quiet.  If you're not living-impaired anymore, maybe she
won't be able to tell you're there.  As long as you keep quiet.  Really
quiet."

She continued on, but didn't notice he'd stopped until he grabbed her
wrist and pulled her back to him.  That startled her, but it wasn't
until she looked up and saw his eyes that she was truly frightened.

They weren't the same blue, that cold icy blue of the Arctic Ocean at
twilight-a hard, unyielding, unforgiving blue.  They were like a cool,
soothing glass of ice water on the hottest, stickiest, most unpleasant
day of summer.  But they were still intense.

There was no tenderness in his gaze right now, as he stared at her.  And
that scared her.  What if Spike didn't want her anymore?  Let's face it,
there were plenty of other girls on earth who'd be more than thrilled to
have him.  And who were a lot more attractive than her.  Did he still
want her?  Need her?  Did he still love her?  Did he *ever* love her?

*  *  *  *  *

He had seen a lot.  He'd been around for over a hundred years.

For over eighty years, the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen was an
image that had been with him for those eight decades.  A single moment,
Drusilla sitting in the starlight, silent, looking as peaceful and as
happy as he had ever seen her.

Four days ago, that had changed.  The most beautiful thing in the world
was seeing Willow, illuminated by the lightning, in one single moment
during their union, accompanied by the knowledge that it was *him* she
wanted at that moment, him she needed, and even him that she loved.

But now?

Seeing her in the sunlight, in more colors than he ever could have
remembered or imagined, with the knowledge that he could see her like
this every day for the rest of his life, that he could still hold her
and touch her and kiss her, that was the most beautiful thing in the
world.

*  *  *  *  *

"Is...is something wrong?" she asked him, terrified of what his answer
might be.

He stared at her for a moment, a look of absolute astonished wonder on
his face.  "How the hell do you do it?"

She was sure her eyes were huge.  "Do...do what?"

"Love, every single moment that I see you, that I've ever seen you, I
think, 'that's it, she's never going to get any more beautiful than she
is now'.  And every single bloody time, every single bloody moment, you
get more beautiful.  How the hell do you do it?"

It took her what felt like years to figure out how to respond to that.
So that he wouldn't think she'd died on her feet, she forced out a few
random sounds.  But there was no time for her to force out anything more
than that, because he kissed her.  Hard.

*  *  *  *  *

Buffy awoke that morning to strange sounds coming from the bed next to
her.  Willow was telling someone not to be such a baby.  A whining, male
someone.

A British someone.

A someone who sounded strangely like Spike.

Buffy kept her eyes closed and her breathing steady, and listened to the
exchange going on in the bed beside hers.

"Ow!  Bloody hell...damn, do you have to be so rough about it?"

"Rough?" Willow's voice chimed out, amused.  "Rough?  I thought you
liked rough."

"Ha ha.  That's funny."

"Shhhh.  You're gonna wake Buffy up.  I don't want to have to explain
this right-"

"Too late," Buffy piped up at last, figuring that was as good a cue as
any.  "Please, do explain."  She glanced over at the pair.

^Sweet mother of all that is good and pure,^ she thought.

Willow and Spike were sitting on Will's bed, Spike's hand bandaged
up-presumably by Willow.  It took Buffy a moment to figure out exactly
what was wrong with this picture.

There was sunlight streaming cheerfully in through the window, casting a
warm brightness over everything in the small room.  Including Spike.

Finally, she came up with an appropriate response.

"Holy sh-"

*  *  *  *  *

It took only ten minutes or so to explain what had happened to Willow
not an hour ago.

When the two of them had finished their story, Buffy felt like she
needed some air.  A lot of air.  Air was what she needed.  Yup.

"Oh, God," she said weakly, more to herself than Willow and Spike.

"Yeah, he had a fair bit to do with it," Spike smirked.

"Angel?" she whispered softly, her voice ragged.

For once, Spike didn't throw in some smart-assed comment at the mention
of the other vampire.  Instead, he did something much more surprising.

He stood, his hand reluctantly leaving Willow's, approached Buffy's bed,
sat down next to her, and embraced her gently.  "He told me to tell
you...he still loves you.  He'll always love you.  With all of the soul
that he can never lose.  He can be happy now, Buffy.  You'll see him
again some day.  I promise."

Buffy would have stared at him in shock, but she couldn't.  Her eyes
were too full of tears.  So instead, she just let him hug her as she
cried long and hard.

*  *  *  *  *

Nearly forty-five minutes later, when Buffy had fallen back asleep, laid
gently down by Willow and Spike, said couple had a hushed discussion.

"You think she'll be all right?"

"All right?  How the hell should I know?  She loved the Poof a lot, for
reasons a long way beyond me.  But yeah, I think she'll eventually be
okay."

Willow was silent for a moment, a strange expression on her face.

"What?  Something funny?"

"Just...you.  You were so...*nice* to her."

He glowered at her.  "Well, don't expect it to become a habit.  It
wasn't becoming a vampire that made me cynical and mean, love."

She stuck her lip out in a pseudo-pout.  "But...won't you be nice to
*me*?"

As though to prove his earlier defense, he leaned in closer, kissing her
temple lightly as his breath rasped in her ear.  "Oh, don't worry,
love.  I'll be plenty...nice...to *you*."

Her eyes widened, and she realized that he had picked her up and was
carrying her out of the dorm.  "But...Buffy-"

"Will be sleeping for a couple hours at least.  Besides, I think I'm
hungry."

"You *think*?"

"Well, it's been about a century since I last had to eat the way humans
do.  This is pretty much what I remember hunger as.  I could be wrong,
of course, but why take the chance?"

She finally stopped trying to squirm her way out of his arms, though she
blushed furiously when the occaisional passerby would stare at the two
of them.  "People are staring," she whispered.

"People will stare at anything if they have the time.  Besides," he
said, as they strolled passed a small group of girls who giggled at the
pair, "most of them are just jealous."

Willow liked that thought.  She'd never had something that others were
jealous of before.  "I...I don't think I mind them being jealous."

"Good," Spike responded, leaning down and planting another soft kiss on
her hair, so light that she would have barely been aware that he'd done
it at all, were it not for the fact that it had given her yet another
glimpse of his eyes-eyes that were full of wonder and marvel at the
morning around him, and eyes that were full of love.  ^Love for *me*,^
she reminded herself with an almost overwhelming sense of joy.  ^Me.
Little old Willow.  Xander never looked at me with eyes like that.
Heck, *Oz* never looked at me with eyes like that.^

The thought of Oz brought a faint pang of loss to her, but nothing
nearly so strong as it had even a week ago.  She would always love him,
that was true, but the fact was that the love she'd had for him wasn't
what she'd thought that it was.

All thoughts of best friends and ex-lovers were pushed aside as Spike
pushed through the doors and into the joyful warmth of morning in
Sunnydale.
 

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