Chapter 9

She stared at the reflection in the mirror, depressed by the visage that mocked her. Gone was the seamless skin of her youth, replaced by the methodical lines and wrinkles of old age. Those damn crows' feet--and, really, they didn’t even look like stupid, scraggly crows' feet--clawed at her eyes regardless of her mood; a singular scowl or a miracle marathon of giggles were enough to etch them in her face. And those soddin' lines that bracketed her mouth? Mom never had those. And the hair?

"Give one up for the wonders of hair dye," she muttered and tucked a strand of her bobbed hair behind her ear.

"God, you're beautiful," the British voice sounded behind her, and Buffy leaned into the solid body of her lover, moaning when cool lips brushed across her neck. She stared into the mirror as invisible hands lifted up her white blouse, exposing the black lace of her bra. An excited giggle escaped her lips when those same hands squeezed her full breasts. It was a chain reaction, one that nearly thirty years together had yet to extinguish. Spike's every touch captivated her mind and body, and filled her with the need to join with him, to touch every part of him. Unfortunately, yielding to her amorous desires would leave those downstairs unattended to.

"Stupid family," she muttered and reluctantly grabbed his wrists, even as her own body pressed into him. "Spike, we can't."

He growled into her ear, obviously displeased, but continued that oh-so brilliant twirl and grind with his hips. "And why not, luv?"

"You know why…" she said, her words cut off as blunt teeth scraped across her jugular. "God…"

"Don’t think He'd mind us love birds havin' some time to ourselves, considerin' tha wonderful bloke's the reason we never killed each other in the first place."

Buffy chuckled and was thankful that Spike extricated himself from her body. Smoothing down her blouse, she turned to the man that had held her heart with a strength she never would have thought possible.
"I love you so much," she whispered and her fingertips grazed alongside the razor edges of his eternally youthful cheeks.

"Love you, too, Buffy," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist, "and I was about to show you how much, if you just cooperated a bit."

"Yeah, with everyone downstairs, awaiting the birthday girl?"

"Don’t think they'd object to you blowin' out me candle this time, pet."

Buffy laughed. "No way, buster," she said, poking him in the chest, "it's my birthday, so I gets the treats. Got it?"

His face turned serious, eyes ridiculously wide. "Sorry, General; will commence oral pleasureage as soon as humanly, er, vampirely possible."

Buffy's laughed and dropped her head; the sound of her own mirth reminded her of other times, times where she didn’t feel so old and unattractive.

"You're beautiful, luv," he said and she raised her eyes, sending a questioning gaze her way. He graced her with his one genuine smile, the one that was reserved for her and her alone (not even Dawn had seen this, although, of course, he had another Spike-smile reserved solely for "his Bit". Yeah, whatever).

"What? Don’t think I didn’t know what you were thinkin' just now, luv? Give a bloke some credit, 'specially when he's the bleedin' emotional profit o' this lot of Sunnydalians."

"Sunny wholians?"

He shook his head. "You know what I mean, luv."

"Personally I think the surfer talk just infested your mind and turned it to mush."

"Ha bloody ha, Slayer. So, were you thinkin' 'bout how old you look?"

The fire of arousal that still lingered heated, but transferred to her sense of indignation. How could he?

"Thanks a lot for the report, Mr. Stay young forever," she spat and turned her head. His hands clamped over her biceps in an iron grip and he whirled her around.

"What is wrong with you, Summers?" he asked, and were it not for the tinge of amusement in his tone, she would have back down. As it was, his exasperation only intensified her disdain.

"My problem? My husband just told me that I look old and you want to know what my problem is?"

"Luv, I…"

"It's not like I need a reminder, you know. Everyday I look in the mirror, I know I'm a step closer to…" She trailed off, unable to say the words.

"A step closer to what?"

But Buffy didn’t hear him. Her mind could only see him and Dru, walking off together in the sunset, their beauty remaining for all of days.

"Buffy?"

Snapping herself awake, the slayer gave her husband a bitter smile. "The others are waiting, we better go," she said and brushed past him. Any other time the British curse that filtered from the room would have produced a giggle from her, but now the only thing Buffy could think about was when Spike would get tired of her. They had lived their entire lives together; never lacking on the passion that burned within both of them. But passion never lasted. One day it would fizzle until it was no more, and that's when Spike would do what everyone else had done in her life, leave her.

Yeah, turning fifty was no fun at all.

~~~

"Guys you shouldn’t have," Buffy said, wrapping her arms around Willow and Kennedy.

"I tried to tell Red that," Kennedy replied, "those tickets were hella expensive." Buffy giggled when Willow elbowed the younger woman in the ribs.

"It wasn’t that expensive, Buff, and, hey, even if it was…"

"I know, I know; dealing with two millionaires. Rub it in why don’t ya."

Willow's face fell but Kennedy only smiled. She snaked her arms around the red head's neck and kissed Willow on the cheek. "C'mon, sweetie, you know Buffy's kidding. Hell, the way the Council's paid her over the last thirty years, you think she's hurting for money?"

Buffy smiled at Willow's incredulous frown, twisting away when the red head swatted at her. "You, you meanie."

"You know I had to mess with you, Wills. Still, two weeks in the Caymans, all expenses paid, I know it wasn’t cheap."

"Doesn’t matter," Kennedy said and squeezed Buffy's hand, "you're worth every penny." Buffy's eyes clouded over and she fought back the tears, though when she saw the same reflection in Kennedy's eyes, the floodgates opened.

"I love you guys so much," Buffy said and the three embraced.

"We love you, too, Buffy," Willow said, running her hand down Buffy's back. "We love you so much."

Buffy didn’t want to let go of these two women who were just as much sisters to her as Dawn was, but a pointed cough from the latter broke the moment.

"Geez, people," Dawn said from the lap of her husband, "get a grip."

"Connor," Buffy said, "I still don’t know how you deal with Ms. Bad and Moody."

The dark-haired man shrugged. "Genetics."

The entire room was quiet, pondering the reticent man's comment when it struck Buffy. Her eyes lit up and she threw a pillow at her ex-lover's son. "Hey."

"What?" Dawn asked.

"Well," Xander's wife, Tasha said from the couch, "if I'm not mistaken, I'd say that was an insult. What do you think, sweetie?"

Xander held his hands up. "Sorry, but not touching that one with all the poles in the world."

"Wimp."

"Ow," Connor moaned and everyone turned towards the couple in the chair. "What was that for."

"Tash was right," Dawn said, "that was an insult."

Rubbing his arm, Connor muttered "If Spike was here, he'd understand."

Buffy's head shot up at the mention of her man and she searched the living room, with no sign of him.

"Where is my bleached baby at?" She asked, hiding the fear that he was still mad at the tiff they'd had earlier. But he didn’t seem like he was, she thought.

"I saw him go out when you and the Dawnster were jumping up and down over those Lacey Stride tickets."

"What?" Dawn asked. "She's awesome."

Xander chuckled, running a hand through his predominantly gray hair. "Yeah, but she's for the…" Tasha's finger fell across his lips and she shook her head.

"Baby, I love you, really I do. But if you decide to finish that last thought, well, all the love in the world's not gonna stop me from joining Buffy and Dawn in kickin your little bitty ass."

"Point taken," he said and kissed the back of his wife's hand. The gesture sent a pang of grief down her spine. Spike should have been here, doing that to her. Whenever the Scoobs got together like this he was always on her, doing his damnedest to embarrass the others with his blatant affection. Although he had joked with her earlier, he had behaved himself, no overwhelming displays of affection.

The slamming of the back door ripped Buffy's attention back to the present. She glanced at the others, all of which had less than innocent looks on their faces. Before she could interrogate them, she heard a voice of a person she hadn't seen in nearly three years.

"I'm perfectly capable of making it through the house on my own, you pillock."

"I'm just tryin' to help, Da."

"I swear if Buffy didn’t love you so much, I'd have a right mind to introduce you to my number two pencil right about now. And why the bloody hell didn’t we come through the front?"

"It's a surprise, Rupes…" Spike trailed off when they entered the living room, his eyes falling onto Buffy. "Of course, since you 'ave absolutely no clue how to keep your voice down, no more surprise."

"Giles?" Buffy whispered and walked towards the man who had, by all definitions, been her father. Aside from the white shock of hair and his cane, not to mention an extra wrinkle or two, this was the same man that had approached her in the Sunnydale High library all those years ago. Right down to the tweed suit.

"Happy Birthday, Buffy." He barely had a chance to finish the greeting when Buffy embraced him. She fought the urge to squeeze him tighter and instead inhaled that masculine scent that was all him.

"I missed you so much," she said and opened her eyes just enough to make contact with Spike, letting him know that Giles wasn’t the only one she missed.

~~~

"I'd like to make a toast," Spike said and stood. "To Buffy: the strongest, most wonderful person we've ever had the privilege of knowing."

"To Buffy," everyone replied. Buffy fought the tears that welled in her eyes, powerless to steam the tide of emotion that threatened to consume her. These people, this wonderful family of hers was everything--more--that she'd always wanted. Without them she would have never made it through high school, much less the past thirty years. She opened her mouth to tell them but Spike's voice cut her off.

"Now," he said and set his glass down on the table, "since I apparently made a fool of myself earlier today in my wife's company, I suss its time for me to apologize to her.

"Buffy," he said and flicked a button on the stereo remote, "I think it's time you know how burnin' my love is for you…"

Buffy scowled until the familiar guitar and piano wafted through the air. Spike leapt over the table, dropped to his knees and faced her. His cerulean gaze was filled with the love of a thousand years and she shuddered. But when his tenor voice belted the first notes, her body simmered with the desire to have this man to herself.

Spike's hand came over his chest before he stood and walked over to her, taking her hand.

She squealed when he lifted her into his arms and twirled her in the air.

He lowered her to her feet and Buffy swooned, from her still spinning head to the passion that coursed through her veins. She barely registered Spike behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her close.

He buried his face in her hair and her hands rubbed his arms that were around her waist. Her hips swayed to the music and Spike followed suit. Though his erection reminded of just what she wanted, she couldn’t help but fall into the rhythmic pulse of her heart.

Spike pushed Buffy away and she would have fallen were it not for his tight grip. He took her hands in his and turned her towards him. Her hands fell to the black shirt that clung to his body and she licked her lips.

I know what I wanna lick, she thought as her eyes grazed over his entire body.

His eyes twinkled with desire and Buffy's knees faltered, and she responded by pulling him closer towards him. Her lips caressed his cheek, then chin before falling to his pulsing Adam's Apple.

No sooner than the last line was sung did Buffy plunder Spike's soft lips with hers. His hands roamed the small expanse of her back and she tangled her fingers in his hair. The taste of this man was like nothing she had ever experienced. It was almost as if he was a drug and she had been a junkie for the last three decades on the taste of Spike.

Several loud coughs pulled the slayer back to reality and she reluctantly pulled away from Spike.

"Well," Dawn said, smiling despite the blush rising on her cheeks, "if I'd have known we'd be getting the porn show, I may have brought my video cam, sold the tape on eBay."

"Dawn," Kennedy said, aghast. "How could you?"

"C'mon, Ken…"

"I mean, we could get a lot more money if we mass produced it, sold it independently."

Buffy stared at her chuckling friends in horror, "You guys! I can't believe you all."

Giles cleared his throat and his eyes were on the glasses that he was viciously cleaning, "Well, in all fairness, Buffy, you were the one, erm, 'getting jiggy with it'."

"Excuse me," Xander said, wiping his mouth, "I was busy kissing my wife, but did Giles just make a funny? Using old school hip-hop?"

"I think he did, sweetie," Tasha said.

"And here I thought his talents ended with the blues singing," Willow said, snaking her arm around Kennedy's waist.

"While I'd love to stay around and chat with you lovely people," Spike said and hoisted Buffy into his arms. She gasped but wrapped her arms around his neck, "I have a lovely wife to make love to fifty times."

As they traversed the steps, Buffy heard Giles' sarcastic murmur of, "Well, that wasn’t too embarrassing, now was it?"

~~~

Several hours and countless orgasms later (was it fifty? Cause, taking in the numbness, it sure as hell could have been) Buffy lay in the arms of her lover. Her head rested on his chest and her fingers idly traced the lines in his stomach.

"So," she murmured against his skin, pride filling her when he held his breath, "was that my birthday present, cause, really, if it was, I don’t think you need to give me anything for the next ten years."

Her body vibrated when his amorous chuckle filtered through the atmosphere of sex and love. "Well, can't say that it wasn’t part of your prezzie."

"Part of my prezzie?" she asked and sat up. The smirk on his face made the hackles rise at the back of her neck. "Spike…"

She sighed when she lost contact with his body. He was rustling around in the drawer for something before he lay back next to her.

"Here," he said and handed her a small picture of a house.

Buffy smiled as looked at the house. From the outside, it appeared to be a little bigger than their current home. The front doors (and boy, were they nice) were guarded by twin columns--columns that lined the front expanse of the house. The front yard was much larger than the current one and Buffy thought she saw a garden off to the side. But the large, white fence was what drew her attention. It circled the front yard, and despite the somewhat out of place nature of it, Buffy couldn’t help but love it.

"You like?"

Buffy's grin fell slightly and she shook her head. "It's beautiful. It looks a little Victorian, though."

"That it is, luv. The inside's the same. Course, you can do it up any way you like."

"Yeah," she said, "I would--Spike? What did you just say?"

His smirk transformed into a genuine smile and he cupped her cheek. "I said that you could do it up any way you like."

"But…how?"

" 'S ours, Buffy. One of my family's homes in Bath."

"…"

"Looked in on some stuff the last few years, did some correspondence with the last remaining Sumner to get the scoop on it. Bloke died last year and since he actually believed my story, that I was a Sumner, left it to me. Course, the whole white picket fence wasn't there before. 'Ad that put in a few months ago."

"This…this is ours?"

"Yeah. Now, don’t think I wanna move out of good ole Sunny D, away from the fam, far from it," he reassured her. "But when we wanna get away for a few months, well, there's our summer-Summers' home, luv."

Buffy stared at the picture through the haze of tears. She had always wanted to have another home but had thought it hubris to do so. Knowing that Spike did this for her--that he thought that much of her was almost too much to bear.

"Buffy?" She turned to him, dropping the picture on the comforter between them. The emotion coursing through her temporarily abated her numbness and she slid on top of Spike. She knew it was impossible for words to express her love for him at this moment, so she used the only approach that could ever convey her feelings to him.

And as they made love, speaking no words the rest of the night, the moonlight slid through the crack in the shade, illuminating the two lovers whose passion had only intensified in their time together and would continue to do so for as long as she was alive…

Next…Love Me Tender…The final chapter

Chapter 10

He'd known it was coming for years now. After all, it was inevitable. She was only human and, despite being a slayer, aging much slower than a normal person; still, she was only human.

William Summers stared into the mahogany coffin, a sad smile twitching off and on as he stared at the beautiful image of his wife of seventy years. Even in death (a repose he had seen her in once before) she was magnificent. Her once blonde, once brunette hair that had fallen past her waist for the last decade, was now a shimmering white and wisps of blonde littered throughout. Although her skin was not the soft, unblemished canvas of her youth, neither was it the wrinkled visage of a woman a century old. He always thought it funny that, after fifty years, it was as if time let her be. Oh, the little things gave away her slowly aging body; even when she didn’t know it, he did. He studied her with the most critical eye, never judging her but barely keeping his heart from breaking as the years piled on. How he wished that her abilities had remained static like her appearance. But it was not to be.

"You still look beautiful, love," he said, his knuckles brushing across the silken tresses of her hair. "Just as beautiful as the last time we…" He caught a sob before it rang through the halls of the church. He knew his two companions would say nothing and, in fact probably spilled tears of their own. But he wouldn’t. No, he had promised her that he wouldn’t cry--not if it meant losing himself completely…

That had been three weeks ago. Between that night and Thursday morning they were closer than usual. He watched her with an even keener eye and she him. He never would have thought anything to be wrong, what with the vitality she showed in those last few weeks. And then…

The hand on his shoulder drew Spike's mind back into the presence. He turned to the imposing figure on his right. The man there had become a true Sire in the past fifty years, due in part to their tending of Drusilla but more along the lines of Buffy's stubbornness. Aside from the two women in his life, he'd never been as close to anyone as he now was with Angel.

He hoped to see the older vampire's strength, his resolve not to be broken. He needed that to stay sane. But when he saw the tears flowing freely from his Sire's brown eyes, Spike's world crumbled.

Angel's arms were around him before he fell to the floor and Spike held on to the larger man's body with all the strength in his undead arms. His mouth was open in a silent scream and, were it any other time, he would have laughed at the delay. But when the horrible cry pierced the air, Spike didn’t know if he would ever laugh again.

"There now, William," Angel whispered in his ear and the tenderness only made the gash in his soul wider. The salty tears of his Sire bled with his own and Spike's nails dug into the leather of Angel's coat. They rocked back and forth, entwined in the most intimate embrace and it took eternity for Spike to gather the strength to voice his pain.

"I can't do it, Angel. I can't go on without 'er. God, please don’t make me, Angel, please don’t make me…I can't, Angel, I can't." As much as he believed the words, Spike wanted to hear something--anything--from his Sire. He knew that if Angel said it, he would have no choice but to go on. Yet all that answered him was a choked sob and Spike knew he would not last the day.

"You can, William," the dulcet voice whispered in his ear, just as a fragile hand smoothed his shirt. "You can and you will."

"Dru…" But words were lost in the realization that Buffy was gone and Spike could only reach back, pulling Drusilla against him.

She didn’t speak for several minutes, not until Spike and Angel's cries had tapered off somewhat. When she did, Spike heard the agony in her voice; it had been Drusilla that had been there for Buffy when Dawn had become ill; it had been Drusilla that had coaxed the slayer from her malaise when Dawn had finally died. And it had been Dru that became Buffy's surrogate sister and it had been that way for twenty years. He had always teased Buffy about the screwed up family they had but he never could have been happier.

"She'd want you--us--to live, William. I loved her as much as I've loved anyone, even you and Angel, and it hurts more than I could ever put into words. But we cannot let it stop us, Spike, we cannot."

"But how, Dru? How do I go on?"

The slender woman slid to Spike's side and her arms fell across his and Angel's shoulders. As she rubbed their necks, their eyes slowly turned to her and Spike saw her own tears shimmering in the candlelight.

"We make the best of it, for her. There is still so much we can do. So many people we can help. Buffy would have wanted it that way." She lowered her eyes and when she looked back up, a sad smile infiltrated her thin face. "Evil may never sleep, but good never dies."

Spike was shocked when he laughed. It may have been a near deathly sound but it was a laugh no less. "When did you get to be so poetic?"

"I didn’t," she said. If possible, her melancholy grew. Her eyes skirted up towards the coffin on the dais before settling back to his face. "I learned it from watching the strongest person I've ever known."

The following silence stretched well into the night and the three vampires never moved from their position. They took comfort in their bonds of blood, emotions and souls, knowing that with each other they could get through this.

"Don’t mean to break up the Kodak moment, folks," Spike said after a long pause, a part of his old self coming through, "but if Dru's right, don’t we have Evil to vanquish."

"Spike," Angel said and the softness in his voice nearly pulled the bleached blonde back into the oblivious depths of despair.

"Not tonight, Angel, please don’t." His sapphire eyes took in Angel and Dru. He saw that they understood yet he spoke the words anyway. "Tomorrow, we'll grieve. But tonight…"

"Tonight…" Angel repeated.

"…We'll be heroes," Dru finished.

They rose as one and, arms linked, strode out the church but not before each gave a final kiss to the woman who had delivered them all from the paths of despair, evil and madness. Buffy was their savior and the least they could do was to keep her memory alive. Oh, Spike knew that one day they would all be dust; either they would meet their end fighting the good fight or finally gaining their redemption. No one, even vampires, was meant to live forever. Only the memory of his slayer could ever do that. Yeah, he would see her again, all three of them would. And when that day came, Spike would welcome it with open arms. To finally be at rest, to spend eternity at peace with the woman who had driven him to do the impossible. Oh, how he looked forward to that day. But until then…

Until then, he would live.

And he would fight.

But most of all, he would make her proud.