Take a Chance by Witchiepoo

Chapter 13

The night clerk looked at them, a knowing smile on his face. He thinks I’m a prostitute. Buffy mused, She couldn’t blame him for thinking that. Her club clothes left very little to the imagination. She glanced shyly at her lover. She should create a name for him, so when this night was over she didn’t have to call him her amazing one-night stand. No name fit. He didn’t fit a mold. He wasn’t a Randy or Jack. He was amazing, ethereal…. Beautiful.

She let her eyes roam freely over his back, tight and taut under the black t-shirt. He had a swimmer’s body, all broad shoulders and tiny waist. Her hands itched to run her fingers over his bare ass, to fill the strength as he pushed his cock inside her, deeper and deeper. He turned suddenly, and her mouth went dry. He had an almost primal look on his face. Did it match hers in its intensity? Yes, it did. They needed to get to the room, now.

Put one foot in front of the other, man. That’s it. Step. Step. Closer. Closer. Soon. Not soon enough. Spike groused. He could hear her breathing getting deeper and stronger. He could feel the electricity between them, almost a visible pulse of energy that could be tapped into and used to light up a city block. He wanted to pull her into the stairway, pin her to the wall again. Have her legs wrapped around his waist. Feel the heat of her core as she took him in. He almost stumbled over that particular memory.

She was looking at him. Her green eyes darkening into emerald pools. So expressive. So beautiful.

“This is it.” She said, her voice shaky.

Spike’s hand shook slightly as he put the key into the lock. He pushed the door opened, allowing her to walk inside ahead of him. He threw the bag from CVS on the table. They had picked up a few things on the way from the diner. Water. Cookies. Chips. Condoms. All the things they would need to last the night.

Buffy watched him, staring at the box of condoms, as if he were having second thoughts about having them. They had taken a chance earlier, but the need to be together, flesh to flesh, had pushed all reasonable thoughts of STDs and pregnancy out the door. Along with my morals. Buffy thought.

“That was bloody stupid earlier.” He commented, reading her thoughts.

Buffy laughed lightly. “Yeah, it was. But necessary, wasn’t it.” She wasn’t asking. She knew. She understood. An overwhelming desire to know what it felt like to be burnt by the sun from the inside, out. Had to know that one perfect moment.

Spike nodded. He threw his keys on the table, the sound loud. He looked up, his blue eyes bright and clear. One thought went through his mind. Gotta get those lips.

Buffy smiled as his arms went around her neck, pulling her willing, supplicant body into his. She titled her head, gasping at the heat coming off his body. Her mouth opened, her tongue darting out to slide languidly across his. Spike moaned and ran his hands down her back, tugging at the straps. Their bodies were the only things keeping the flimsy piece of material on her. He could feel her nipples, hard and warm, pressing deliciously into his chest. Buffy grasped his t-shirt, tugging it out of his jeans, sighing when she felt the smooth skin underneath. Fingers, light as feathers, tickled his back, inching higher and higher till it became necessary for him to release his hold on her waist, and hold his arms up. Spike threw the t-shirt across the room, his eyes taking in Buffy’s heaving chest. The shirt she wore, fell to the floor. Her breasts fascinated him, so tiny and so perfect. He bent, his mouth opening and taking the rounded flesh into his mouth completely. Buffy shuddered and her eyes closed briefly. He was on his knees, worshipping her, and she wanted to cry from the intense pleasure and pain he was inflicting on her sensitive flesh. They would be sore in the morning. Thank god, she thought. Just when she thought she might have to forcibly pull him away from her nipple, he moved to the other breast, engulfing it whole in his mouth.

“Oh, god.” She moaned. He moaned too, but the sound was muffled. His hands slid up her legs, massaging the toned flesh, dipping tantalizing inside the hastily repaired panties, ripping them apart.

What the hell did I even bother? Should have dumped them in the bathroom at the restaurant.

Spike’s head swam with the taste of her skin, vanilla and something else. His cologne. He realized belatedly. It was them, her and him, together. Spike rolled his tongue around, batting the heated flesh, hearing Buffy purr in response. He felt her fingers on his face, lightly tracing his cheekbones and ears, till they dove painfully into his hair.

“Need you. Need you. Oh.. need you.” She moaned, and Spike looked up. She stared at him, and gasped as his fingers slid between her outer lips and into her moist heat. Buffy bent her head, her lips crushing his, sucking on his bottom lip painfully. Spike cupped her ass, holding her steady as he stroked her with long, sure thrusts. Her knees buckled, and she fell onto the bed. Her knees bent and spread, allowing him greater access to her core.

“Oh, god.” She grunted. Her hands worked frantically at his jeans, finally succeeding in ripping the zipper down. Her fingers enclosed his thickened member, and this time he gasped. She stared into his eyes, as they both continued in rhythm with the other, rushing to lose control.

“Pants. Off. Now.” Buffy groaned.

Buffy shimmed out of her skirt, throwing it haphazardly aside. Spike nearly tripped as he hurried to push the offending denim off his body. He gave up, shuffling over to the table, ripping the box apart in his haste to get one condom. Buffy giggled at the sight, but when she caught sight of his erect penis touching his belly button, she lost the ability to think or speak. She could only stare. This was the first time she’d seen him, completely naked. And boy, she liked what she saw.

Spike saw her eyes widened, and he strutted, after toeing his shoes and jeans off, proudly over to the bed, crawling as she scooted back. He grinned, and she grinned back, smiling with teeth so straight and white, he felt blinded by it.

“What’s so funny?” She asked, stroking the sides of his face.

“You. Staring. Haven’t you ever seen a naked man before?”

Buffy rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, it’s just... you.” She said, pushing a stray curl off his forehead. “You’re just amazing. I feel ugly around you.”

Spike shifted till he was comfortably wedged between her legs, his cock between their bodies, pulsing and throbbing. He leaned down, kissing her softly, but steadily on the lips. “You could wear a burlap sack, and still be the most beautiful woman in the world.”

His hand slid along her thigh, sliding between their bodies at the dip between hip and belly. His eyes never left hers, as he opened the way to her interior, and slid inside in one, long, sweet thrust. Buffy clutched at his arms, squeezing the biceps as he slowed withdrew from her body, only to come back just as slowly. Buffy’s toes clenched and grasped absently at the back of his thigh, wanting to push him to go faster, but enjoying the agonizing slowness he implored. Her fingers continued their perusal of his face, touching and tracing the planes. There was something to be said for taking it slow, Buffy mused, her back bowing in time with each thrust.

Oh, god. This is going to be a big one. She thought as her legs began to shake, her muscles protesting wildly. Spike thought she was going to rip his ears off, she was holding them so tightly. He surged forward, his feet pushing hard on the bed, giving him leverage. Buffy screamed loud and long, her hands flying to her side, clutching at the spread, pulling it to her, around him. Spike grasped her hand in his, pulling it above her head. She held it tightly as he thrust wildly, three times, maybe four, finally collapsing onto the pillow beside her head.

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Spike pulled the bike around back, parking it next to Buffy’s Liberty. He hoped she wasn’t busy. He just needed to see her. He wasn’t feeling his work at home. His editor was expecting an outline for the new book by Friday, and Spike hadn’t started working on it yet. He figured since he’d used Buffy as his muse to write the first one, might as well use her for this one.

Last year, she was just a memory, a whisper of a dream. Now, she blood and flesh, and waiting on the other side of that door. Stop your poetic gibberish and go in and get her. His cocky mind told him.

Spike whistled the melody to Ghost’s latest song as he rounded the corner. He did a double take as he neared the front door. Fear made him rush to it, seeing Buffy laid out on the counter, her head resting on her arms. He ran inside, and came up short when she snored.

“She’s asleep, mate. No worries here.” Spike ran his hand over her tousled hair, chuckling to himself. Bad Spike. Bad. Keeping her up to the wee hours of the morning, when she’d been working so hard on Lindsey’s project. Not that she’d complained at the time, but when the alarm went off… well, that was a different story. She’d promptly got up at 8, grumbling about British men and their unquenchable appetites.

Spike flipped through her appointment book. Good, she didn’t have any appointments until after lunch. Just enough time to let her recharge. Spike locked the door, putting the closed sign up. Scooping Buffy up in his arms, he carried her to the back. She was making little smacking sounds, her lips parted slightly. He pressed his lips to her forehead, laying her gently down on the sofa. She looked so much like Sleeping Beauty he kissed her again. Maybe, she’d turn him into a prince. He slid in behind her, wrapping her up in his arms. He closed his eyes, enjoying the opportunity to listen to her breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Philip Barton peered into the glass door, checking to see if the blonde man would return from the back. He didn’t. Well, I guess that’s the boyfriend. He mused, writing the info down in his notebook. Elizabeth Summers was clean, not a bounced check or parking ticket to her name. She had a nice little business. Her family was a typical upper class family. Nothing out of the ordinary. She dumped some schmoe a month ago, and was presently screwing some writer. He had nothing. Nothing to show for that $5000 retainer.

It’s all about the Benjamins. Had to remember that, old boy. Think. Everybody’s got some skeleton in their closet. Okay, family and friends wouldn‘t squeal, but an ex would always provide the real, juicy dirt on someone. Next stop, the GE building and one Riley Finn.


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“Elliot Sanders, VP of Marketing. You go here.” Riley said, pitching the bulky envelop in the tray. “Yes, look at me, Buffy. I’m working in a fucking mailroom for you. I’m wearing a freaking shirt and tie for you, and what are you doing? Screwing some platinum blonde into the ground. Yep, my life can’t suck too much more.”

“Well, it could, if my dad was standing here listening to you.” A feminine voice drawled from the other side of the stacks.

Riley’s mouth dropped open, and he swallowed loudly. Damn, Buffy Summers. Now, he was going to lose his job. Which wouldn’t be so bad, if he didn’t need it to impress Buffy.

“Hello, I didn’t realize anyone was in here with me.” Riley rounded the corner and came up short. Sitting on the counter in a skirt so short as to be illegal was a blonde sucking a blowpop. The male-fantasy was not loss on him. And they said he was dumb!

“Hi.” He said, awkwardly throwing his hand in the air.

“Yeah, right. So, you’re the new guy. Not bad.” She said, studying him intently, almost as if she were deciding which pair of Manolo Blahniks to buy. She hopped down, pulling fruitlessly at the small piece of fabric. The blonde looked up, not surprised to see Riley’s eyes on her legs.

“Look, my dad’s VP of this place, so don’t get attached to me. Just came down to see where I’ll be spending my days until school starts. Oh, I’m Harmony. Just call me Harm, geek boy, and we’ll get along just fine.”

Riley stuck his hand out, and she shook it, giving him a look that said ‘you’re a dork, but you have potential’.

Harmony flung her braid over her shoulder and strode out the door. Riley stood there for a minute, trying to remember his own name and position.


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Dawn looked at the apron, wondering again at the sanity of trying to cook Connor a homemade meal. And why was she trying to be Betty Crocker, when she wanted to be Betty Boop? Because you really, really like him. Simple as that, Summers.

“Okay, now. First things, first. We cut the tomatoes.” Maria handed Dawn a large cutting knife and stood back and watched as she cut the tomato.

It’s just a tomato, Dawnie. This isn’t anything you haven’t done hundreds of times. Just hold it steady and press down hard. Okay, hold it, and do it again. Good. Dawn turned to see what Maria thought, and found herself alone in the kitchen with Lindsey. Well, that’s just great. I could have put this thing in the food processor and been done with it. He’s a hottie. He’s a hottie. Just keep telling yourself that and you’ll be fine. If you can’t get to his heart through his cock, then go for the stomach.


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“I did it mmmmmmmyyyyyy way!” Maria sang, dancing around the dining room with her favorite broom. “That Frankie Sinatra! Bellisimo. Ah, he was a catch! Back in my day, we used to swoon over him. That voice. Those eyes. Eh. It was a beautiful time. Very romantic.” Maria was in a fine mood today. Her daughter was getting engaged, finally taking herself off the shelf, so to speak. Maria crossed herself, placing her palms together in a silent prayer of thanks.

Lindsey chuckled, and tried to keep his mind on the marinara sauce. Tonight was the night. Why are you nervous? You love her. She loves you. You’ve been together for 5 years, longer than some marriages. Stop your worrying.

“Lindsey, the sauce isn’t going to cook itself.” Maria chided. “You have to turn the stove on.” Maria took one look at him, and decided a little motherly intervention was in order.

“Dawn, when you finish with that tomato, come over here and stir the gravy.” Maria pulled Lindsey through the double doors and sat him down at the nearest table.

Dawn looked in the pot, confused. Gravy. This looks like spaghetti sauce to me. “What gravy?”

“That’s what we Italians call sauce.” Connor said admiring Dawn’s attire. “Nice apron.”

“Don’t get used to it.” She said, smiling as Connor leaned in to give her a kiss.

“Not even when we’re alone.”

“Maybe, then, and only then.” Dawn’s eyes softened as she gazed into his.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So, do you have everything ready?”

“Just waiting for Buffy to call and let me know when the pictures will be ready.” Lindsey groaned, seeing the tears well up in Maria’s eyes.

“Maria, please. No crying. She’ll know something is up.” Maria waved a checkered napkin in his face.

“My only daughter is going to get married. I’m allowed to be emotional.” She huffed.

“Maria, the wedding isn’t today. All I’m doing is asking her.” To tell the truth, he cried in the shower that morning. He wanted to be a man’s man, but this was his heart. This proposal had to come off right. It had to blow her way, like she blew him away when he first met her.

“All you’re doing is making it official. You love my Cordelia, and she loves you very much.” She held his cheeks in her hand. “You are soulmates. Love like that only comes around once in a lifetime, twice if you’re extremely lucky. I saw it in her eyes the moment she said your name, you would be the one to complete her.” Marie sniffed, holding the memory of her dear husband close to her heart.

“Thank you, Maria. Thank you for Cordelia.” Lindsey hugged her, the two of them swaying to the closing strands of the song.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy awoke with a start, pushing herself up into a sitting position and flinging an unsuspecting Spike to the floor. Her eyes widened and she caught herself laughing before she could stop it.

“For someone who professes to love me, you pack a mean elbow.” Spike said, rubbing his stomach.

“Spike, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were there.” Buffy cocked her head. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Well...” Spike began sheepishly. “I was coming to see what you were up to, and saw you sleeping, and I felt so guilty, and to get out of doing my outline.” He admitted.

Buffy shook her head. Procrastinating, procrastinating. “Spike, you’ve got to get that started. Friday is right around the corner.” Buffy slid off the sofa, climbing onto his prone body. Well, not so prone in certain areas.

“I know, but you’re my inspiration.” He said sweetly. His blue eyes were dancing and mischievous.

“Are you going to start spouting poetry? That would be too romantic for the floor of my studio.” She said, resting her head in the crook of his neck. She inhaled deeply, and snuggled closer into his embrace.

Spike cupped the back of Buffy’s neck, enjoying the feel of Buffy’s breath and lips on his skin. Moments like these were the best part of their relationship.

“Thank you for bringing me here. It would have been terribly embarrassing to be caught drooling on the counter.” They laughed and felt the rumbles deep in their stomachs.

“Had to make sure my girl was okay. Wouldn’t want some nasty to get a hold of you.”

“Aren’t you the gentleman?”

“Yes, I am.” Spike wiggled his brows.

Nice lips, Buffy thought, propping herself up with one arm. She traced his lips and bent down to kiss his open mouth. Spike’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist and inched up her back, easing her t-shirt up. Buffy laughed and pushed his hands down.

“Down, Tiger. I’ve got to finish Lindsey’s pictures first, and then I’ve got a set of triplets coming in for their birthday pics.”

“In their birthday suits?” Spike asked hopefully, knowing he was risking bodily injury for the joke.

“No,” Buffy said, rubbing her hips into the bulge pressed deliciously against her butt. “But if you’re really good and help me, I may let you take some pics of me in my birthday suit.”

“Just call me Eastman, Ms. Kodak.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Connor toyed with the strings on Dawn’s apron. Dawn swatted at him, worrying Maria was going to come back in, and catch them fooling around.

“Dawn, are you ever going to sleep with me?”

The spoon dropped back with a splash into the marinara. Dawn spun around, her face bright red with embarrassment.

“Shut up! What are you doing? Your mother will hear us.”

“So. She knows I have sex.”

Okay, now, is that the kind of thing you say to your new girlfriend? No, that isn’t, dummy! Dawn blew her breath out slowly. Time to set some boundaries. “I don’t care if you’ve had sex. Be a virgin with me. Let me live in Denialville. I don’t want to imagine that someone else has done the things to you I want to do. Do I make myself clear?”

Do the things I want to do to you. That was a low blow. Pun entirely intended. Connor took in the tilted hip, and the arms crossed under her full breasts and wondered why they were waiting.

“May I ask a question?” At Dawn’s nod, he smiled. Damn girl was going to turn his hair gray. “When do you think we might move to the next step in this relationship? Not pressuring you. Just asking.”

Dawn turned the fire down, stirring the red tomato sauce. She wiped her hands on the apron before approaching Connor. He swallowed at the hazy look in her eyes. Eyes that were once bright, cerulean blue were darker. He felt the weight of her feminine wiles pressing on him, and he thanked the lord for making women. Especially this one. Dawn stopped a few inches in front of him, placing her hands on either side of his body. She leaned in, getting as close as possible with clothes on.

“When I feel that there isn’t any place else for us to go.” She breathed hotly on his cheek. “When I know that I might die, if I don’t feel you inside me. When I decide that you will die, if you aren’t with me.” She kissed him hard on the lips, her mouth opening and allowing his tongue entrance. She pulled back, her lips red and full.

Connor gulped. Where had his Dawnie gone to? Who was this woman? His blood sang. Hell, his blood wanted to put up a billboard and let her know that he was there. He would die if he wasn’t with her, and soon.

“Now, stir the sauce while I finish these tomatoes.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Riley unbuttoned his collar and loosened the tie. God, he hated the blasted thing. How could people go to work on a daily basis and wear these contraptions? He sat outside the building, eating his sandwich. He pulled the bread apart, and sighed. Buffy used to make him sandwiches. She’d fixed them before she left for the studio, and he’d have something to snack on while he waited at casting calls or after a full day of surfing. He missed her and hated her all at the same time. His plan should have worked. He had a job. He had a benefit plan. But no Buffy. No sex. No nothing. It wasn’t fair. He’d been the perfect boyfriend.

“Umm, excuse me. Are you Riley Finn?”

Riley squinted into the sun, until Barton moved to block its rays.

“Yeah, who wants to know?”

“Philip Barton. I’m doing an interview for an article on The Photo Shop. It’s owned by…”

“Buffy Summers.” Riley told him, a hint of bitterness still on his tongue.

Barton smiled. Bingo. One jilted lover ready to go. “Do you know her? I’m trying to compile a dossier on her. Would you be willing to answer some questions? Her neighbors told me you were her boyfriend.” Add a little salt to the wound.

That bitch! What was she too ashamed to tell people how she cheated on him with her famous author boyfriend?

Now, a rational man with an ounce of good sense would see through the thin story Barton was spinning, but not our boy. Nope. He was so pissed at Buffy. He couldn’t see when he was being played. And one thing, Philip Barton could do was play a simple-minded person like a violin.

“Is that what they told you? Hah! Little Ms. Summers has someone else keeping her warm these days. She threw me out without a second glance. Took up with that jerk. So what if he wrote a book! I could write a book if I put my mind to it!”

Barton’s brow rose at that statement, and he refrained from laughing in the guy’s face. Yeah, and I’m going to try out for the LA Ballet company.

“That’s awful. Did you try to get her back?”

“I tried. That’s why I’m working here. She wanted something different, she said. Someone different. I gave her time to get over this thing for him, but all that’s done is give them more time to screw each other silly.” Riley clenched his fist, forgetting the sandwich he held in his hands.

“So, this boyfriend, you say he’s a writer. Do you know his name?” The question penetrated the fog around Riley’s brain, allowing much needed brain cells a chance to rejuvenate.

“Why do you want to know? I thought this was about Buffy? And you didn’t tell me what you were working on?”

Philip gave him a shocked look. “Didn’t I? We’re doing a story on the Photo Shop for our publication. We just like to get all the information we can on the owners. Just personal info and tidbits to fill in the blanks.

“Oh, if you don’t feel comfortable speaking with me, we can end this now.” Barton rose, extending his hand. Riley shook it, and smiled.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t think Buffy would like me giving out that kind of information.”

“You’re absolutely right. You should probably get her permission before speaking to me. I won’t even mention all that stuff you told me about her and that writer.” Barton knew that would ensure Riley’s silence for the time being. If he really wanted to get the girl back, bashing her in a news article was the worst way to go about it. He would keep quite. Of that he was sure.

“Thanks. You’d do better asking her.” Riley said timidly.

“Thanks, Mr. Finn. You have a good day.” Barton whistled as he walked away.


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“You could have told me they were only 4.” Spike grumbled as they unloaded the pictures outside Cordy and Lindsey‘s house.

“Yeah, but then it wouldn‘t have been as much fun.” Buffy smirked.

Buffy giggled as she thought of Spike‘s reaction when he met the triplets, Jason, Justin, and Julianna. Four-year-old terrors, who‘d taken an immediate liking to the man with the yellow hair and blue eyes. Little Julianna immediately attached herself to Spike‘s leg and looked up at him with big, adoring eyes.

“They wore me out, and I was only with them for a few hours.” He said as he passed Buffy with the final load of pictures.

“Well, at least someone can wear you out. I haven‘t figured out how to do that yet.” Spike wiggled his brows, leaning down for a quick kiss.

“Don‘t let me stop you from trying, luv.”

Buffy unlocked the door, shaking her head at Spike-plotting. “What time is Lindsey coming home?”

“11 or 11:30. Depends on how many folks were at the restaurant tonight. He won’t leave Maria to clean the place, even if this is the second most important day of his life. That’s just Lindsey.” Spike shrugged. He laid the poster-size photos in the entryway. Buffy put the bag of rose petals in the kitchen.

“How many roses are in this bag?” Buffy asked, holding the bag up.

“Probably 5 dozen. That’s how long they’ve been together.”

Buffy smiled as Spike spread the photos out, following Lindsey’s instructions on where to place them.

5 years. Wow! And they are getting married. Spike and I have been together a month, but it seems more like 3 years. God, how could I have done that to Riley? He never had a chance. It was Spike then and now.

“Whatcha thinking, Blondie?” Spike asked as he wrapped his arms around Buffy’s waist. They were in Cordy and Lindsey’s bedroom, having placed the last picture on the door.

Buffy turned in his arms and kissed him on the cheek. “I love my job. Thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.” Spike said a little confused.

“And you do.” She snickered. “After that night with you, I went to the cliffs. I spent hours up there, thinking about you, thinking about what you said to me. ‘Life is what you make of it. Good, bad, it doesn’t matter. As long as you take control of it, and make it your own, who’s to say it wasn’t worthy.’ She recited. “It was my motto. I kept hearing it in my head as the days went by. When I finally told Dad I was changing my major, you were there with me.”

Spike brushed her temple with his lips. “Glad to hear it, Pet. You were with me every mile of my journey too.”

“I wouldn’t have had the strength to become a photographer if it wasn’t for you. I love what I do. I love being able to capture in a frame, a moment out of a lifetime. It’s very humbling. I feel blessed to be a part of their history.”

“I didn’t do anything except be your sounding board. It was always inside of you.” He tapped his finger lightly on her chest. “I told you, Buff. You’re the strongest person I know.”

Buffy grabbed his finger, nipping it lightly. “I have a suggestion.” She said, kissing Spike’s chin. “Let’s finish this up, then hit Blockbuster and Ben and Jerry’s. I feel like snuggling with my man, tonight.”

“I second your suggestion.“ Spike took Buffy’s hand. “You did a terrific job on those photos. Cordy’s going to cry and laugh all at the same time.”

Spike ran his hand over the last one, showing Cordy and Lindsey sleeping in the park. Buffy took it. Just two weeks ago, they’d gathered at the small park around the corner from Spike’s house, and played in the sand. Buffy pulled out her camera and snapped photos while Lindsey and Cordy cuddled on the blanket. One minute they were awake and joking with Spike, and in the next they were sound asleep.

“She’s getting engaged, not leaving the state.”

“I know that, but she’s been mine forever. I only share her with Lindsey. Now, he’s taking full ownership of her.” Spike pouted.

“She loves you.”

“I love her, too.”

“I know you do.” Buffy stated quietly. She should be jealous, but she wasn’t. She was just as possessive of her friends. Tara and Willow were her sisters, almost as much as Dawn. And Lorne was their brother, albeit, an older, flashy, wise-cracking, woman chasing, brother. At least, he had good fashion sense, and made a mean Fruit punch.


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Cordy rolled her neck, trying to work the kinks out. Tomorrow is my birthday. Tomorrow is my birthday. I don’t have to work or anything. I get to be pampered all day by my Mama and my sweetie. Home. Shower. Snuggle. In that order, and immediately.

Lindsey saw the lights flash through the darkened house, signaling Cordy’s arrival home. He lit the candles, tiptoeing over the rose petals strewn from the front door to the bedroom.

Cordy walked in the front door, and directly into her past with Lindsey. The candlelight cast faint shadows on the pictures placed at different intervals from the kitchen to their bedroom. She recognized it for what it was, a photo diary of their relationship. A journey from the moment she realized she loved him, all the way through the past few weeks. It was them, growing older together. Growing up together was more like it. Her eyes swam with tears. She got to the door of their bedroom and pushed it open. Lindsey was there, on bent knee. His face wet with tears.

Cordy smiled, and she reached out to touch his face, her hand shaking.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hi, babe. I see you’ve been busy.” Cordy dropped to her knees, looking into the eyes of her future.

“Had some help.” Lindsey said shyly. “I wanted tonight to be special.”

“You’re here. I’m here. That’s all we need.” Cordy grasped his head, pulling it to hers.

“I love you, Cordelia Ana Chase. You are my everything. My life is so much richer for having you in it. I want you to be my wife, my lover, my friend, the mother to our children. Will you marry me?” Lindsey pulled the velvet box out of his pocket, and opened it.

Cordy sniffled, and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Yes. Yes. Yes.” She said, throwing her arms around Lindsey’s neck. They held each other tightly, crying and laughing all at the same time.

“I thought you were never going to ask me.” Cordy joked, as she pulled back. Lindsey took her left hand in his, and slid the 2-carat diamond on her finger.

“I would have asked you 5 years ago, but I thought it was too soon after the first date for marriage proposals.” His blue eyes still shimmered with tears, but there was happiness there as well. It was mirrored in Cordy’s.

“I would have said yes.”

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