Title:   One Movement(Chapter Forty-Six - Meant to Be)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Spike/Buffy (Most major characters included)

Feedback: Yes, please   NimueofAvalon71 (at) yahoo.com

Disclaimer:  All characters belong to someone other than me; they belong to Mutant Enemy, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, Fox, UPN, WB, their affiliates, lawyers and all sorts of other folks that aren’t me.  :::sigh::::

Summary: Spike and Buffy check out the mansion.  Angel readies Cordelia for her reunification with her friends.  And Spike still has surprises left in him, even after all this time.

One Movement

“Looks as though they’re gone, Pet,” Spike commented as he descended the stairway of the Crawford Street mansion and Buffy finished a round of the first floor.  They’d scoured the basement together.

“What’s wiggy is that it looks like they were never here,” she answered, stowing her stake in the front of her jeans and walking across the marbled lobby to meet her love.

“Vampires have a way of not leaving a trace on short notice,” he answered, hopping off the bottom stair and taking her hand.  “Not a bad place, really.”

“This one?”  Buffy answered, squinching her nose. 

“Could use some paint and …”

“Fumigation….”

Spike grinned.  “But it would be a far better headquarters for world saving than our humble abode.”

“I like our abode,” Buffy shot back.  “You’ve been talking, no *listening* to Xander, haven’t you?”

“As though the whelp could convince me,” Spike scoffed, leading Buffy out the front door.  “But I’ve a far better idea.”

~~~@~~~@~~~

“You ready for this?” Angel asked, standing with his hand on the front door of the crypt and looking back inside.  She was redressed now, in clothes that one of the other girls must have left behind.  Dawn, from the look of things.

He’d found the shower and helped her clean off the blood.  And he cried as she mourned the loss of the only thing left of her humanity.  Her own blood.  Still, though, she had her soul.  She had that bit of her that made her Cordelia, and despite the anger and the tears, somewhere inside, Angel could tell it was really still her.

“I don’t know,” Cordelia finally answered, arms wrapped around her waist and staring solidly at the door.  It hurt to look at him still.

“Cordy, they aren’t going to judge you… Me, on the other hand….”

“Spike’s going to kick your ass,” Cordelia commented, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“He would have done that anyway,” Angel chortled, opening the door a little wider.  “Remember, Cordy, these people …. I know how hard this is for you.  Believe it or not, I remember that.  Granted, I wasn’t a model human being to start with, but I still remember feeling… lost.  But you’re not walking into a lion’s den where people are just going to judge you for what you are. “

“I know,” Cordelia answered.  “I just feel… stupid.”

Angel quirked his brow.  “Stupid?  For what?”

“Dying.”

With a sigh, he walked from the door to the center of the room, taking her hand in his.  He thought for a moment, studying her face, his other hand rising to trace the contours of her cheek with his thumb.  “Happens to the best of us.  And most of us, not so nobly.”

“I’m noble?”  Her voice was childlike, almost.

“Hey, you died trying to protect us.  I’d say that qualifies,” he answered, gently leading her out the door. 

She straightened, trying to find a new way of looking at it.  “I’m noble.  Wow, who’d have thought it?”

As he led her out the door, he answered.  “I did.”

~~~@~~~@~~~

It was almost like old times.  Well, plus a few faces, but the theory was the same.  Buffy’s house, packed with people, some hovering over books or laptops, some snacking, some chatting in corners.  The kids, all of them save Emma, were temporarily stowed in beds upstairs.  The Hellmouth may be a crazy place, but bedtimes were bedtimes and they’d all had a hard week.

Buffy and Spike looked around the packed house from the doorway, thinking.  Surveying.  Spike had been right.  The One had become a force, rather than just a pair.  A small army fighting against the end of the world or the hostile takeover by forces not so interested in preserving life as they knew it. 

The One had become a movement.

Over the years, more and more had been drawn into their ranks, by love, by birth, by conscience.  And the walls of this house were no longer big enough to contain them.  It was their responsibility to lead them.  Their responsibility to protect them.  Their responsibility to make the choices that would preserve, and give the advantage to, the white hats.

Spike had been right.  Strategically and figuratively, it was the right move.

With a deep breath, she nodded.

He squeezed her hand and let go, walking off to search for Xander.  Buffy walked in the opposite direction, putting on a smile and greeting her troops as family.

They were, and always would be, her family.

“Any sign of the bumpy brigade?” Willow asked as Buffy found a seat on the couch next to her closest friend.  Emma crawled into her lap and settled her head against her mother’s chest.

“Looks like they ran,” Buffy answered, sighing and settling back into the couch.  “How’s everything here?”

“Well, Wesley and Giles have been searching through some of the codexes for information on Luke and Draconius.  I mean, not much on the net.  At least not yet.  I keep telling them they need to scan all those dusty books and make them accessible to…”

Buffy chuckled.  “Why do I think we’d get a lot more done if you were the head of the Council?”

“Because we would,” Willow answered, grinning.  She was silent for a moment, smile fading.  “Any sign of …. Did you see…?”

“The newest creature of the night?” Buffy asked, pulling Emma closer, “No, not yet.  I’m sure that she’ll come when she’s ready.”

“Do you think…? Did Angel do the right thing?”

The Slayer sighed.  “I don’t know if there is a right in that situation.  I mean, I’d like to say that if it was Cordelia’s time, we should have let her go.  But it’s not always that easy.”

Willow’s head dropped, remembering the times *she* wasn’t willing to give up her friends to the great beyond.  The lengths to which she had gone to stop that from happening. 

“I think,” Buffy continued, trying not to let her friend dredge up painful memories long past, “that he did what he *thought* was right.  I can’t say that Spike wouldn’t have done the same thing in the same situation.”

Willow’s eyes opened wide.  “Make *you* a Vampire so you’d be… wow.  I don’t even want to know what happens when a Slayer gets turned.  Freaky.”

“I don’t either,” Buffy chuckled, grabbing a cookie from the tray next to the table.  “But when you love someone….”

“You do the wacky,” Willow agreed, settling back into the couch.

“Much wacky.”

~~~@~~~@~~~

“You’re serious?” Xander asked, leaning up against the porch railing in the back yard.  “You want to do this?”

Spike nodded.  “Wouldn’t, ‘cept this place would go to a worthy successor.”

“But the mansion?”

“You said you could fix it up.”

“I can,” Xander answered, taking a long draw off of his beer.  “I mean, the place has the potential to be a palace.  And I know the Council will bank roll it all since they sort of owe you and Buffy….”

“Once we explain the reasons,” Spike corrected.  “We can’t exactly run an army from a suburban three bedroom.”

Xander chuckled and shook his head.  “Yeah, it’s tight in there.”

“And the masses seem to be ever expanding,” Spike contributed, taking a pull from his own draft.  “So, you’ll do it?”

“Sure,” Xander answered, visions of remaking all of that beautiful stone and wood into what it probably once was – an elegant tribute to design.  “I can draw up the papers on Monday.  The house is owned by the state since it’s been abandoned so long.  I’ll make a call from work and you can probably get it for a song.”

“Thanks,” Spike answered, thinking of the changes that were to come.  Now all they had to do was talk it over with the other party involved.  A gift that neither of them would be expecting.

There was a long pause as the two men stood on the back deck, looking out into the starry night.  “You seen Cordelia since ….”  Xander finally asked.

“No,” Spike answered.  “Not since she rose.  Angel will want to … train her a bit. “

“Train?”

“Not in the way he disciplined me, or Dru, for that matter.  Got a soul now, the ponce.  But he’ll want to lay down the rules.  That, and clean her up a bit,” Spike answered.

“He disciplined you?” Xander asked, genuinely curious now.

Spike turned towards the man and looked at him as if he’d grown another head.  “Course he did.  I was his property.  Could do whatever he pleased, really.”

“Hard to think of you taking it,” Xander answered, a bit ashamed for opening this particular can of worms.

Spike sighed.  “You don’t know much when you first rise.  Just feed.  And, o’ course, the fists and fangs bit.  S’like being drunk at a bar.  Just want to drink, eat, fight and find a woman.”

“And Angel taught you not to do that?”

The Vampire laughed out loud at that one.  “Angelus?  No, he encouraged it.  Only he wanted it done on his terms and he got them all before we did.”

“Dibs?” Xander asked.

“Wolves,” Spike responded.  “Alpha gets the good bits, and the pack gets what’s left.  In Angelus’s mind, that’s how we learned.”

“But not in Angel’s?”

“Different, now, innit?  He has a soul.  She has a soul.  There’s reason involved.  Morality.  Guidance above and beyond what we had then.”  Spike took another long pull.  “Besides, he loved her before.  No reason the poof would do anything but love her now.  She’s just his… consort now.”

“Consort?” Xander asked, intrigued.

Spike nodded.  “Mate.  Partner.”

“Like Vampire marriage?”

Another chuckle from the blond.  “A bit.  More blood involved.”

Xander danced a little shivering jig of disgust.  “Ew.”  A long pause.  “Is Buffy….?”

“Bit different still,” Spike explained.  “The joining was more complete than that.”

“The One thing?”

Spike nodded.

“But you…”

“Yes, if we were both Vampires, she’d be my Mate. “

Another jig from the Human.  “She let you do that?”

“We didn’t much have a choice, but yes,” Spike answered.

“Gah!”

A ruckus from inside, followed by silence, drew the men’s attention back indoors.  Slowly, they crept in the back door, not sure of what they’d find inside. 

Spike eyed Buffy on the couch as he reached the kitchen doorway.  Calm but alert, their daughter held in her lap.  She glanced back and nodded – a silent signal that all was under control.  He returned the nod imperceptibly, and strode out from the doorway into the living room, Xander stopping by Takina’s side.

Angel and Cordelia, looking tired and worn, stood in the entryway.  She was hugging herself, picking at the lavender sweater that Angel had found for her, and staring self-consciously at her well-cleaned boots.  Angel looked guilty and repentant – not that he ever showed any other expression.

Spike was the one to break the silence.  He’d thought about every snarky remark, every snide barb that he could throw at his errant master, but Cordelia…  she hadn’t done this, and Spike knew that, especially with the souls involved, any ill thought out words would likely alienate her from the rest.  Something she didn’t deserve.

“Sire,” Spike spoke strongly, bowing his head in a formal gesture of pack inferiority.  Buffy’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head watching Spike approach in such a submissive position.

But Angel understood.  Until Cordelia knew, until she understood, what it was to be a Vampire, Spike would play by the rules.  Internally, the dark-haired Vampire chuckled.  Once that bit was over, Spike would pay him back in spades.

“Childe,” Angel responded, his voice strong and clear despite wanting to cry or to scream.  Spike stood in front of him, head still bowed.  In reality, he should have knelt before his Master, but there was no way he would get that much cooperation from his eldest living Childe.

“You have extended our line,” Spike recited from memory.  He’d done this before, even though neither Buffy nor the others, knew of Angelus’s other Childer.

“I have taken a Consort,” Angel replied, making Cordelia’s status within the line clear.  She was not to be treated as a fledgling, but rather as a Queen.

Spike nodded.  “A worthy mate.”

Angel nodded, taking Cordelia’s hand and holding it out to Spike.  Spike leaned forward, kissing the back of her hand.

 “She will be respected.”

Again, Spike nodded.  “She will be welcomed into the Order.”  He thought for a moment and then raised his head.  Not quite part of the ceremony, but this was not an ordinary situation.  Spike trained blue eyes on his Sire, and then on Cordelia.  “She will be welcomed into our home, and our lives, as you see fit, Sire.”

Angel shook his head, chuckling.  Leave it to his wayward Childe to find the words to make this okay.  For all his bluster and bravado, Spike knew when to find the right phrase, to say the right thing.  The dark-haired Vampire looked at his mate, her eyes teary and afraid.  But she smiled at Spike’s words, looking him in the eye and then scanning a room full of familiar faces.

Funny how everything changes in the blink of an eye, but some things always remain the same.

“Cordelia,” Wesley breathed, knowing that the formality had ended.  He walked to her and hugged her, pulling her into his embrace until she understood that they would all still love her just the same.  One by one, the others followed suit, finding a way to make this horror all right.

Then again, that’s what they did.  They made the nightmares go away.  They made the world all right again, despite the monsters under the bed.

~~~@~~~@~~~

She found him on the bottom step of the back porch, hands clasped between his knees, staring up at the stars.

With a click, the kitchen door shut behind her and she walked quietly to him, sitting down at his right without a sound.

His hands unclasped and one found hers, enveloping her tiny palm in his.  Winding their fingers together in a show of strength.  Of love.  Of unity.

Of Oneness.

She was quiet for a long moment.  “What you did in there was…”

He nodded, breathing in the night air.  “It was the right thing to do.”

“You gave her back her dignity,” Buffy answered, tightening her fingers around his. 

“She didn’t ask for this,” Spike responded.  “Not easy, if you don’t know what to do.”

“But Angel will show her.  *You* showed her,” Buffy responded, leaning her shoulder into his.  “It doesn’t have to be as hard for her.”

Spike shook his head.  “No, it doesn’t.  But it won’t ever be easy.”

A nod from the Slayer.  “Life rarely is.  Guess unlife too.”

The Vampire smiled, turning to face his lover.  “S’been worth it, though.  For me, at least.”

“Yeah, I’d have to say, beyond the ruined wardrobe, near death experiences, and frequent need for manicures, it’s been worth it,” she answered, smiling back at him.  Studying his rugged face, his beautiful, blue eyes.  “It gave me you.  And the kids.”

“I love you, Buffy,” he whispered, leaning towards her and pressing his lips softly against hers. 

She raised her palm to his cheek and held him to her.  “I love you always, Spike.”

“Every day.”

END

Epilogue to follow.

Title:  A Garden Full of Roses- Epilogue – Meant to Be

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Spike/Buffy (Most major characters included)

Feedback: Yes, please   NimueofAvalon71 (at) yahoo.com

Disclaimer:  All characters belong to someone other than me; they belong to Mutant Enemy, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, Fox, UPN, WB, their affiliates, lawyers and all sorts of other folks that aren’t me.  :::sigh::::

Summary:  One more blessed event for the clan.  One more moment where the apocalypse isn’t near.  One garden full of roses.

A Garden Full of Roses

Thousands of roses: reds and pinks and creams, dotted the fence line of the large yard, all in bloom as if they were an orchestra of colour and the conductor had led them to a crescendo.  It was Anya who had pulled that off.  It seems that vengeance has a side effect: the ability to coerce beauty into existence even before or after its time.

The house was... amazing.  There was really no other word for what Xander and his crew had done.  A monument to death and foreboding had been transformed into the home of peace.  Stained glass and polished railings, marble and brass and intricate stone work had turned it into not only a fortress fit for the army of the One, but a place where all were welcome, and none, save for the evil,  were turned away.

In nine short months, everything had changed.

It was twilight and random conversations dotted the yard.

“Dawn’s family must be very rich….”

“Why choose night-time?  It just seems so… gloomy.”

“You’d think with a place like this, they could have at least bought Dom.”

“Do you think that those flowers are real?”

“I heard that Dawn’s sister and her husband are in law enforcement.”

Buffy stood at the window of one of the second floor guest rooms and watched the crowd mill about her yard.  “Is his family really that big, Dawnie?”

“I tried to get you to meet them,” Dawn answered as Tara fussed with her dress, buttoning and snapping and trussing.  “He’s one of seven.  The youngest.  All married.”

“Gah,” Buffy answered, shuddering and adjusting Emma’s garland of roses.  “You had to go big.  Please don’t tell me you plan on adding seven more to the crowd.”

“Like sister, like…” Dawn began, the thought fading into giggles. 

Buffy returned the giggle, watching Spike talking to Xander and Giles by a fountain in the yard.  He was in a tux and animatedly explaining some manly manner of business.  What made it amusing was the tiny girl wrapped in a white blanket, tucked into his arm as he spoke.  Their third.  Their last.

Their own army.

After the events of her early pregnancy, it had all been rather quiet and uneventful.  For once, there was no horrible morning sickness.  No hellgods trying to take her unborn child.  No spells or incantations to keep her alive through the birth.  No incubators or prayers or truly tense moments.

Just a few more months, a belly that wouldn’t quit growing, a normal trip to the hospital, less than three hours of labour, thanks to Slayer muscles, and a perfect, full term, daughter. 

A daughter they’d named Crescent.  An honouring of the soul’s love of the sky, without the painful reminders of what had happened to her former shell.

The army grew.

It seemed that would be a never-ending cycle with their clan.  By Valentine’s Day, both Anya and Takina had announced their own additions to come.  Two more into this insane, wonderful world.  And Willow and Tara were rethinking their one time stints with motherhood. 

The army would grow some more. 

Soft lights flickered on in the yard below and Tara finished affixing the veil to Dawn’s shining hair.  Spike looked up to the second floor window and nodded.  The men went about seating guests.

“I think that’s our cue, Dawnie,” Buffy said, softly smiling and crouching down in a swish of pale pink satin to make sure Will still clung to the miniature satin pillow and hadn’t completely destroyed the small tuxedo he had wrapped around his little body.

The bride took a deep breath and smiled.  “Just another day.”

“Yeah, right,” Anya snarked, her swollen belly much larger the second time around.  She had backed out of being a bridesmaid after realizing that she’d look like a large, pink, whale in a sheer satin dress at eight months.  But still, she was as involved as ever, taking over the planning duties and trying not to complain about the gymnast residing in her abdomen.

“What?  I mean, we’ve lived together for a year…” Dawn argued, stepping down from the platform and gathering her nerve.  “Can’t be all that different.”

A chuckle from Buffy and Anya laid that to rest.  “Yeah.  Okay.”

 

“Well, it hasn’t stopped you guys from…”

“Kids in the room,” Willow chided, taking a last look in the mirror.  “Dawnie, I think you’ve actually picked the first bridesmaid dress ever that I may actually wear again.”

Anya shot her a pointed glance, after visibly shifting her entire body to be able to look at Willow. “I’ll try not to resent that remark.”

Willow shrugged, a guilty look on her face.  “Sorry.”

A soft knock came at the door of the room.  “Decent?” A familiar British accent asked, forcing Buffy to smile.  She always smiled when she heard that voice. 

“As we’ll ever be,” Buffy responded, watching the doorknob turn and Spike appear, looking dashing in a black Armani tux. 

“Likes of you, I doubt it,” he answered, smiling sneakily and planting a hard kiss on his lover’s mouth. 

“Would you cut it out?” Dawn whined, pushing the two apart.  “MY day.  Mine.  Mine.  You make out later.  After everyone leaves.  Or at least takes pepto.”

Buffy rolled her eyes.  Spike kissed her once more to annoy his kid sis-in-law.  “So easy to get under her skin sometimes, Pet.”

“Be nice,” Buffy answered, patting Spike’s butt and pulling away.  “Crescent?”

“Takina’s got her,” Spike answered, a soft smile on his face.  He loved his children, almost to a fault.

“Holy guy?”  Anya asked.

“Looking stuffy and hot at the altar,” Spike answered.

“Groom?” Dawn asked.

“Jetted for Paris ‘bout an hour ago,” Spike chided, walking towards Dawn and taking her hand.  She sighed dejectedly.  “Looking like a ghost and pacing up and down in the corner of the yard,” he finally answered, kissing her cheek.

“Better be,” Dawn answered. 

“Or he’d have me to deal with,” Spike quipped, winking at Buffy and coercing Dawn out the door.

“I thought you didn’t want me to get married?”

“I don’t, Pet.  Think you should stay a vestal virgin forever.”

“Uh, a little late for the vir…”

“I honestly don’t want to hear that, Niblet.”

She giggled.

“So why would you beat him up if he didn’t marry me?” Dawn asked as they reached the staircase. 

Spike leaned down and scooped her up, carrying her down the long stone stairs, not wanting to chance her falling or dirtying the dress he’d been forced to hear about for months. 

“Because you want it, Love.  What my girls want, they get,” Spike answered, setting her down at the bottom of the steps and turning to make sure the rest were in tow. 

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” Dawn giggled, kissing his cheek.

Spike shuddered.  “Leave me a little dignity, yeah?”

“Fine,” she answered, hands dropping to her sides.  Buffy, Willow and Tara all appeared in front of her, Emma and Will standing at the very front of the line, extremely patiently, waiting for their cue.  Anya trundled outside to oversee the festivities.  And probably to collapse for a while.

Music began to play, drifting in from the garden.  “Ready, Love?”  Spike asked, taking Dawn’s hand. 

Dawn shook once like a dog, and then straightened her spine, standing tall and looking like a princess.  “Ready.”

The kids walked out to much ‘ooh’ing and ‘ahh’ing, a chorus of ‘Aren’t they cute?’s in their wake.  The girls began to file out one by one.

“Am I ready?” Dawn asked, looking at Spike in a moment of sheer panic.

Spike smiled, raising an eyebrow and hooking her arm in his.  He never answered.  Only winked.

~~~@~~~@~~~@~~~

She spun around the custom made dance floor like a music box ballerina, white satin and pearls glimmering in the soft glow of the outdoor lighting.  Her smile was the size of the full moon above, her glow nearly as radiant.  Guests milled around, talking about the breathtaking beauty of the ceremony, the bride, the yard, the mansion, the couple.  Everything.

It had worked.  They’d done something without an apocalyptic interruption.

It helped that Tara and Willow had spent a month reinforcing the wards outside the mansion’s perimeter.  And that the LA crew had spent all week cleaning out the smaller nests to give the Sunnydale’s time to pay attention to the last minute details.

Weddings at the Hellmouth took a little more planning than the normal.

Buffy sat at a table near the dance floor, sipping a diet coke and holding her newest daughter in her arms.   Watching.  Relieved that her little sister had pulled it off.   That things were… right now.  Crescent had made it in one piece with very little drama.  The wedding had no growling demons or fire and brimstone interruptions. 

This must be what it’s like to be a regular girl, Buffy mused, caressing the side of her daughter’s face with a soft hand.

“May I have a dance?”  A familiar voice asked from just above her.  But not the normal familiar voice.  Buffy looked up to see Angel standing over her, smiling down at the little girl in her arms.

Buffy looked around to see if there was anyone else he could be asking.  Spike had gone inside to prepare their gift to the happy couple.

“Uh, sure,” Buffy answered, standing up.  “Kinda have Crescent, though,” she answered, holding the baby instinctively closer.

“I can take her,” another voice answered quietly.  “I mean… if you trust me.”  Buffy spun to see Cordelia standing there in a pale blue dress, looking beautiful in the moonlight.  She hadn’t been back to Sunnydale since…  According to their conversations with Wesley and Gunn, she hadn’t been out anywhere since they’d got back to LA.  She just hid in the darkness and… come to terms with it.  Angel was nearly as scarce, never leaving her side except to battle some demon or another.

But somehow, they’d got her *here*.

“Of course,” Buffy answered, looking to Angel for confirmation.  Angel nodded and Buffy bundled the child and settled her in Cordelia’s arms.

It was as if a weight lifted from the woman’s shoulders as the child cooed up at her, giggling.  Tears began to fall down Cordelia’s face, watching the little girl.  “You sure you don’t mind?”

Buffy felt like crying herself, watching the relief that flooded her high school friend just at being trusted with something so precious.  “Uh, Cordy, her daddy’s a Vampire, remember?”

Cordelia chuckled, a tear escaping.  “She’s really pretty.  How’d that happen?”

Buffy rolled her eyes and allowed Angel to lead her to the dance floor.

~~~@~~~@~~~@~~

“She okay?” Buffy asked, as Angel led her in a slow dance.

He nodded solemnly.  “It’s been hard.  I mean, adjusting.”

Buffy returned the nod.  “Wesley said she wasn’t around much.  Don’t tell me you’re teaching her to brood.”

A chuckle from the Vampire.  “No.  I mean, she’s down sometimes.   It’s hard.  She’ll never have… this.”

“This?” The Slayer asked, squinching her nose.

“A family.  Kids.  Big wedding.”

“I see the kids, but there’s no reason you can’t make an honest… Vampiress out of her.”

Angel cocked his head.  “Buffy, you know that I can’t… finish it.”

A shocked look came across Buffy’s face.  He didn’t… he hadn’t figured out that Willow and Tara had…  In all of the fuss when Cordy had been turned, no one had told *him* about the rest of the spell.  The shock gave way to amusement.  “Angel?”

“Yeah.”  He looked as confused as she was amused.

Spike took that moment to interrupt.  “Leave you alone for ten minutes and you’re after my old man,” he joked good-naturedly.

Buffy turned to her mate and giggled as the song stopped.  “Spike, we didn’t tell him.”

“Tell him what, Pet?” Spike asked, wrapping his arm around Buffy’s slim waist in a not-so-discreet gesture of possession.

“About the spell.  When Cordy was turned?”

Spike furrowed his brow a moment, trying to figure out what his girl was talking about, until it dawned on him in an instant.  An enormous guffaw escaped the blond Vampire’s lips.  “You mean, the poof hasn’t…”

Buffy shook her head, trying to control a giggle.

“It would be nice if you’d let me in on the joke that I’m apparently the cause of,” Angel snarked, annoyed. 

Spike tried to choke down the giggles.  “Mate, you haven’t tried to…  You’ve spent all this time alone with Cordelia doing exactly what?”

“Teaching her to survive.  Showing her how to fight.  Trying to cheer her up a little,” he answered, offended by the inquisition.

Buffy giggled.  “I’m thinking you could *really* cheer her up.”

Spike shook his head, tears streaming down his face.  “You stupid ponce!  The Witches bound your soul.”

Angel cocked his head, trying to figure out what his Childe was babbling about through fits of laughter.  “What?”

“Angel,” Buffy breathed between laughs.  “Willow… and Tara…. When they gave Cordelia back her soul…. It was sort of a twofer.  They kind of fixed it so yours wouldn’t go… poof… when you… have a happy.”

For a moment, the elder Vampire looked stunned.  Then the anger seeped in.  “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Thought you’d have figured it out by now, mate,” Spike responded, pulling Buffy closer and trying to keep himself from falling to the floor laughing.

“Not something you should have kept…” Angel began.

“There was so much going on… what with the baby and with Cordelia and…” Buffy justified, still giggling.

Angel crossed his arms.  “So I can?  No.  You wouldn’t have… I’d have known….”

“’Pparently not, Peaches,” Spike snarked.

“There will be *no* bloodshed at my wedding,” Dawn joked coming up to the laughing crowd.  “And no funnies without me knowing.  What’s up?”

“Nothing, Nibs,” Spike choked out.

“Angel didn’t know that Willow fixed his soul,” Buffy giggled.

Dawn looked at Angel, then across at Cordelia, who was completely oblivious and cooing happily at the small girl in her arms.  “You’re kidding?”

Spike and Buffy shook their heads, watching Dawn try to suppress giggles of her own.  “Um, oops?”

Angel turned, stalking over to Cordelia, whispering something into her ear.  The Vampiress’s eyes became huge as she looked at the three spectators, then back at Angel, her face a priceless mix of shock and ire.  With long, graceful strides, she strode to Buffy, gently placing the child back into her arms and scowling. 

“You’re *so* gonna need new sheets,” she commented, then spun on a strappy heel and strode into the mansion, Angel at her heels.

~~~@~~~@~~~@~~~

The crowd began to wane as the night advanced.  Spike wanted to wait until just before the couple left to present his gift, but he didn’t want to lose any of the crowd of well-wishers either.  Buffy knew.  They’d discussed it ad infinitum.  Xander knew as he… well, he had to help them.  But most of the rest of the crowd had no idea.

The music stopped and Spike strode to the center of the garden, Crescent in the crook of his arm, Buffy at his side, holding Will and towing Emma just behind. 

“If I could have everyone’s attention,” the Vampire announced, without aid of a microphone.

The crowd spun towards the melodic voice and watched as Dawn and her new husband approached. 

Buffy nodded.  “First of all, thank you for coming to our home and sharing in this with us,” she began.  “I mean, you only get to marry your little sister off once.”

“I hope,” Spike grunted, under his breath.

Buffy elbowed him gently.  “Stop that.”

“Right, right,” he conceded.  “Before this boy takes off with my Niblet and prays he never hurts her…”

Brian and Dawn rolled their eyes simultaneously and Buffy nudged Spike once again.  “Spike, they’re already married.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t rip his head off and feed it to Pony if he steps out of line,” Spike stage-whispered so that Dawn and Brian could hear it as well.  Addressing the crowd once again, he continued.  “We decided to give them a gift.  Been lucky enough, of late, to have relocated into this humble abode…”

The crowd looked at the renovated modern palace behind them and groaned, “… so we’d thought we’d share our good fortune a bit.  Buffy?”

Buffy whispered something to Will and he reached small hands into the breast pocket of his tuxedo.  A ring emerged, with a key dangling from the end. 

Dawn stepped forward, cocking her head and taking the key from her nephew.  “What’s this?”

Spike looked at her for a moment.  “Fixed it up a bit.”

Brian searched them both for an answer.  “Buffy?”

“Revello,” she answered, smiling softly.  “Yours.”

Dawn’s face displayed every emotion known to man in an instant.  Her lips opened and shut.  Opened and shut.  She swallowed.  “Mom’s?”

“Paid it off a while back.  Transferred the deed last week,” Spike answered.

“You gave us a house?” Brian asked, complete shock gripping him.

Buffy nodded, watching Dawn’s eyes tear up.  “You gave us a house,” Dawn repeated, quietly, studying her sister and the man who had all but raised her after her mother’s death.  “You gave us *our* house.”

In a fluid movement, Dawn spun, facing the crowd, and dangling the key.  “They gave us a house!”

A roar came up from the crowd, the core of them, those who had been there all along, huddled just at the side of the stage.  Xander.  Willow.  Tara.  Anya.  Giles.  The newer members.  The LA crew.  All of them.  Together.  In one place.

Happy.

In a whirlwind of tears and hugs, Dawn attacked them all, gushing and glowing and babbling her thanks and her love and her joy.  Brian watched her, smiling, and walked quietly to Spike.

“Do me a favour?” The boy asked, looking Spike right in the eye.

Spike nodded, studying the boy’s face. 

“Rip my head off and feed it to Pony if I ever hurt her.”

~~~@~~~@~~~@~~~

The crowd was gone.  Staff hired for the event cleaned the yard quietly as the overnight guests began to wander off to their rooms.  It was nice to finally have the space to put up Wesley and Gunn and Fred, and even Angel, without offering air mattresses and sleeping bags.

The kids were asleep, tucked in their beds.  The band was packed and gone. 

All that was left was them, and a garden full of roses.

“Well, that went well,” Buffy whispered, padding barefoot to where Spike stood on the wooden dance floor that Xander had made just for the event.

Spike nodded, staring at the moon.  “Not too traumatic.”

“Oh, stop,” she chided, curling herself into his arms and snaking hers around his back. 

He looked down at her beautiful face.  “You sad it wasn’t like this for us?”

Buffy sighed, laying her head against his chest and feeling him begin to sway, holding her body close.  “I guess this is every little girl’s princess dream.”

Spike nodded, kissing the top of her head.  “We should have done more then.”

Buffy thought for a moment before looking up at his handsome face.  “You know?  It wouldn’t have been right.”

He cocked an eyebrow.  “Why not?”

“Because I’m not a princess.  And you’re not a prince.  We’re…. I’m the Slayer and you’re a Vampire and what we have is…”

“Different,” Spike answered.

“Sacred,” she agreed.  “It’s not about little girl dreams.  It hasn’t been for … ever.”

“Should still have them, you know.  Dreams,” Spike answered.  “And I should be making them come true.”

Buffy smiled.  “I wouldn’t give back any of it for this,” she commented.  “Spike, we were joined.  No one was there to see it because no one can see *us*.  Not really.  Since that moment, none of this mattered anymore because I knew what it meant to be…”

“One,” Spike finished, swaying her to music only they could hear.

“One,” she repeated.  “And I don’t regret anything.”

“Do you love me, Buffy?” Spike asked, smiling because he knew.  He knew every moment of every day in every pore of his being.

“Always, baby,” she answered, pushing up on her bare toes to press her lips to his.  “Always.”

He held her tight, feeling her.  Knowing her. 

Knowing One.

“I’ll love you every day, Buffy.  From now until the end of time.”

Fin