Chapter 5.01
Friday, May 10th, 2002

Each time Spike woke up with Buffy in his arms it made it harder for him to go back to sleeping alone. This time, at least, it looked like her alarm was going to go off before she got to the "interesting" dreams. Okay. Who was he kidding? There weren't words to describe how it made him feel to hear the woman he loved moan his name in her sleep with the scent of her arousal in the air. Well, there were, but they were words like effulgent, and so best avoided.

Spike reckoned he had ten minutes to wake Buffy gently before her alarm went off. He pulled her closer with the arm that circled her waist and brushed open-mouthed kisses against her satin covered shoulder, taking care not to dampen the fabric. He moved ever closer to her neck and she began to stir, until, shifting her injured arm, she came abruptly awake. When she stretched she brushed against him in a hundred delicious ways, satin against skin and he gave a contented moan that came awfully close to being a purr.

"Morning, baby. How's the arm, pet?"

Buffy rolled over in his arms to give him a kiss before replying, "Better than it was. Morning, Dead Boy. What time is it?"

"About five minutes before your alarm's going to go off. I was just going to go brush my teeth and see to breakfast. Anything special you fancy, bearing in mind we decided I'm not on the menu until after 'Bit's off to school?"

"In that case, I'll make do with a crispy bacon sandwich and some nice fresh coffee."

"Want me to bring that up, or do you want to eat downstairs."

Buffy seemed to consider for a couple of seconds. "Down, like watching you cook."

Spike, smiled even brighter at her answer and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you, Miss Summers."

"You're not so bad yourself, Mr the Bloody? Say, what is my married name going to be?"

Spike shrugged as he made his way around the bed. "I was thinking maybe Duffy. What d'you think?" He ducked through the door just before the pillow hit it.

Buffy scrambled out of bed and set off in pursuit. "I am not going to spend my life as Buffy Duffy just to satisfy your warped sense of humour."

Spike drooled toothpaste foam into the sink as he tried to brush and keep from laughing at her indignance.

"This is not funny. What was your real name?"

Spike spat and rinsed, suddenly serious. "What happened to the Romeo and Juliet quotes, pet? I swore when I was turned that my misdeeds would never bring the family name into disrepute. I've kept to that for more than a century. If you want to know the name, I'll tell you, but it won't be the name I'll be married under." His eyes glowed golden and his demon ridges came to the fore.

Buffy wondered if she'd overstepped the mark until she noticed he had been busy putting more toothpaste on his brush as he spoke. "Okay, fine. I can wait till you want to tell me then, but what about the name you are going to use. You're going to have to get some ID sorted out so we can get the licence and everything."

"I spoke to someone yesterday about getting some made. I should get everything back within a couple of weeks." Spike got to work on cleaning up his fangs, or at least getting them as clean as they'd come.

"So you must know what name you're going to use."

"Mommov." Buffy just crossed her arms, rolled her eyes and tapped her tiny bare foot, which brought Spike's attention entirely to her slender golden legs sticking out from under the black satin pyjama top.

Spike again got to the rinse and spit stage and turned his attention back to the argument in hand. "Look, pet. How about we discuss this after breakfast. Nothing's settled yet. He won't be starting work before Monday, and I'd rather not be distracted while I'm shaving."

Buffy gave a snort before she grabbed her own toothbrush, toothpaste and tumbler, taking them over to the bath. She couldn't resist watching him as he shaved. For some reason she'd expected him to use the old-fashioned soap that came in stick form and was applied with a brush, not an aerosol can. A disposable razor seemed even more out of place. She'd imagined an open razor and a big leather strap.

"This is the first time I've seen you shave."

Spike shrugged before continuing his ritual. "Only bother every other day or so. You haven't necessarily been around." It didn't take him long to finish off and he made sure to leave the sink sparkling clean. An understated splash of that spicy cologne that smelled so good on him and by the time Buffy had brushed her teeth and washed her face, he was ready to go. "Why don't you check that your sister's up and take her order and I'll go and get the coffee started?" Spike suggested.

Buffy was in two minds as to whether she should get dressed before she went downstairs or not. In one sense it was pointless because once she and Spike got the name thing sorted out they weren't going anywhere other than the privacy of her bedroom.

On the other, the blond butt-pain could just have told her what she wanted to know without the whole Mr Mysterious act and as for that Buffy Duffy crap ...so not funny.

There was also the fact that, okay, the top covered more than any swimsuit and most of her skirts in high school come to that and she had bought several pairs of matching french knickers during her LA trip. It wasn't as if she was going to flash the room if she bent over. Something still made her feel slightly uncomfortable though. Was it all too ...intimate? Especially with Spike downstairs in the matching bottoms looking like he'd walked straight off the set of some martial arts movie ...or a porn film. Not that she'd seen any real porn films but she could imagine.

Okay, Spike was downstairs looking like a wet dream and she was up here? Who cares what Xander thinks when he shows up? Willow and Tara would deal. Dawn had seen it all before. Well, not semi-naked Spike, but her. Semi-naked Spike she'd just have to learn to live with.

Buffy wandered downstairs to find coffee already brewing and the smell of cooking bacon coming off the frying pan.

"Dawn says since it's you cooking she'll have French toast. When she thought it was me she was going to have cereal. How's that for making you feel appreciated."

Good for me, I'd say. Not so good for you. Any other signs of life or is it just the three of us?" Spike asked as he set about preparing Dawn's breakfast.

"So far. Give it another five minutes before you write them off though."

"D'you want juice or are you sticking with the coffee?"

"I could have some juice while I'm waiting for the coffee," Buffy decided.

A couple of minutes later Buffy was munching on her sandwich when Tara came downstairs, fully clothed. "Hey, you two. You beat me to the cooking."

"Yeah, we've had bacon going in one pan and french toast in the other. What d'you fancy?"

"I'll go with the french toast and I think it's safe to say Willow will too, if that's okay?" Tara answered.

"Easy." Spike added some more eggs to the bowl he was whisking before cutting the crusts off of about half a loaf of bread.

Buffy's cheeks brightened and she piped up. "Speaking of Willow, I was supposed to give you a message yesterday. She said she'd ordered all the bits for your PC. She's going to build it here, get everything working and then move it to your place. She says you can pay her any time between now and when she has to pay her credit card bill."

"Money's upstairs, pet. Just need to know how much she needs." Spike looked over at Tara. "Are you or Red going to be about when the Niblet gets out of school today. Buffy 'n' me have got an appointment and I don't know how long it'll take."

Buffy interrupted before Tara could reply. "I think it might be good if she came to your place, actually. That way ...your guest could meet us as a family. Gives you an extra person to speak up for you."

"Okay. Fancy going out somewhere for dinner afterwards?"

"If you're sure. You don't have to. You've already spent a fortune this week."

"I'm sure," Spike replied. "It means I've got something to bribe the Bit with if she thinks about saying who we're seeing."

Dawn breezed into the room at this point and Spike served up the first of the french toast, dumping it on a central plate and letting the girls fight it out.

"Hey, Spike," Dawn teased. "Can I have Janice sleepover one night when you're staying. She'd probably faint clean away if she saw what you've been hiding under that duster."

"Very funny, Bit. An' if it wasn't just 'family' that's around I'd be getting dressed before I came downstairs. Now eat."

Buffy and her sister sorted out the details for after school and Dawn managed to talk them into agreeing to a Bronze trip after the restaurant.

"If Janice's mom let her meet up with us, I could stay at hers tonight and then the two of you could stay at Spike's instead of having to be here for me," Dawn suggested slyly.

"We'll see," said Buffy. "Pack an overnight bag and I'll take it over to Spike's for you. We can leave it in the car once you've changed, but that doesn't mean it's definite."

Dawn grinned as she bounded up the stairs. She knew that Buffy might as well have said yes. It was so cool.

By the time Xander showed up, to pick up Dawn, everybody except Willow had finished eating breakfast and Buffy had even put on a load of laundry and washed up as much as she could. Willow also had a bundle of sequentially numbered hundred dollar bills at her elbow. Buffy had tried to bring up the subject of surnames again but Spike had insisted it would keep until Xander had been and gone. Instead the women were back to looking through bridal magazines.

"I take it you have a favourite amongst Sunnydale's florists?" Buffy said to the blond one.

"You could say that. Once we've got a date I'll introduce you to Kate. She'll be able to cope with anything you want. Have you sorted out how many bridesmaids you want yet?"

"I don't know. It's like I have to have Dawn. She's a definite, but I want Willow too. And if I have Willow I should ask Tara. And then if I do that that means the only female Scooby I haven't asked is Anya. So, I have to ask her cause otherwise it looks like I don't like her but that might only leave Olivia and my female relatives in the congregation if we can't ask the LA bunch. And we don't have to but normally there'd be an equal number of guys and so far you've come up with Clem, who I haven't even seen since we started going out. I don't even know if he knows we're engaged."

"He knows. I've spoken to him on the phone, but it's probably not a bad idea if we swing past his place sometime soon when we patrol," Spike responded.

"Buffy, it's okay you know, if you wanted to just have Dawn and Willow. I mean you've known Willow way longer than either me or Anya," Tara intervened.

"Yeah, but if Willow's a bridesmaid and you're not, you'd be on different tables," Buffy said.

"Sod that, pet. Just make the thing informal. Let everybody sit where they please. I mean how many people are we talking about when all's said and done. Twenty? Thirty? We'll only be getting a little place. Stick a podium in one corner for the speeches so everyone can see and let them go where they want."

"Why didn't I think of that? That's right we had to try to keep my parents away from the bar and prevent bloodshed," Xander answered obviously catching Spike's point of view as he came in through the back door this time. "Eloping is much easier."

"Yeah, but you're going to have to go through it all again for that blessing Anya wants."

"True, but that is sometime hopefully far into the future, so far she might forget about it. Besides she cut the guest list down to more or less the occupants of this room after the last disaster."

"You mean the Buffalo Lodge Fiasco or BLF as it is now officially called," Willow offered.

"Great. You've got an anacronym for the worst day of my life?" Xander asked. "Hey, pretty pieces of paper." Xander's hand moved toward the pile of notes only to be rapped with Willow's fork and find himself on the receiving end of her resolve stare.

"No, they've got an acronym for the worst day of Anya's life," was Spike's response.

"Whatever." Buffy interceded, giving Spike an unfriendly glare before returning her attention to Xander. "We had a look at your sketches last night. We liked the one where the stair end is mostly laundry stroke training area with the bathroom taking up a strip in the back corner and the studio area's rectangular, rather than the ones where you end up with an L-shape room. Do you think you could do the drawings we need for planning permission based on that layout?"

"For you, Buffy, no problem. Now where's little sis. Time for the school going."

"I'm right behind you, Xander. Where I've been for the last five minutes. I've left that bag next to the front door, Buffy."

"Okay, see you after school," called her sister as Xander and Dawn headed out the front door.

One of Spike's smirks landed on his face. "I've got the solution to evening up the ushers and the bridesmaids. I'll take Clem, Glinda and Demon Girl. You can have Bit, Red and Harris."

"Very funny, Spike."

"What? Reckon Pixie here and Anya could look pretty cute in a sort of Edwardian school-marm way with the waistcoats and cravats and the high collars and button-holes?" He flashed Tara a grin. "What d'ya think, pet?"

"And Xander?" Buffy asked irritably before Tara could respond.

"Put him in a pink lounge suit for all I care, as long as he doesn't look like I asked him to be an usher and he gets to carry his bouquet."

"Spike!"

"You know the more I think about it the more I like it. I get three of my favourite people. You get your sister and your two best friends and everybody pairs off ...as much as they ever would anyway. Dawn's always going to be stuck with Clem but at least they're friends."

"Spike, forget it. Besides you and I have another matter to settle now Xander's gone."

"Yeah, right. Excuse us ladies and I apologise in advance if the slayer entices me to use some loud and manly cuss words. After you, pet." Spike waited for the slayer to precede him into the dining room.

"Okay, you. Quit with the mysterious and tell me now. Name."

"Right then, reckoned I'd keep my original middle name. It's a bit out of date now, but it was me dad's name so I'm keepin' it, so if you find Arthur offensive, tough."

The slayer gave him an impatient look but decided that interrupting his narrative flow would be counterproductive.

"Surname took a bit more thinking about. There were some that I thought of, but then when I checked what they meant I wasn't keen. Anyway, the one I was planning to go with is apparently the patron saint of beggars and cripples, so what with the chip it seemed fairly apropos."

"Spike, stop going all Giles on me and just tell me what the damn name is!" Buffy blustered, her fist itching to connect with his nose.

"Well, actually those two requests happen to be contradictory. I thought, short of staying a Summers, that that might be the name you would pick given a choice." Spike saw Buffy trying to work up to saying something and quickly rushed ahead. "I asked the watcher. I didn't just assume it would be okay. I think he was pleased really. He's sort of stuck with me, but in a weird way it makes you and him officially family."

"Buffy Anne Giles. Buffy Giles. BAG? My initials are going to be BAG!"

"Mine aren't exactly a vast improvement, pet. Thought it would make you happy, but like I said I can change it as long as I let him know before Monday. And you could always keep Summers as a middle name. Make it B A S G."

"Too much of a mouthful. I think if I have to initial anything I'll just leave out the A."

"So it's settled then."

"Yeah. I approve ...on one condition."

"Wha's that?"

"It is going to be Mrs William Giles not Mrs Randy?"

Spike gave a snort of laughter. "Should bloody hope so, pet."

"Spike?" Buffy looked over at him, her eyes warm and her cheeks lightly flushed.

Spike closed the gap between them his hands coming to rest lightly on her hips. "Uh-huh?"

"Thank you. It must have been hard to ask."

"We-ell. Not as hard as certain other things could be in the near future." His body pressed against hers, leaving no doubt about his meaning as their lips met in a soft slow caress.

After a couple of minutes she finally drew back from his oral ministrations to respond to his comment, the insult coming out as a breathy sigh. "Pig."

"Yep. Me and Mr Gordo. Your two pigs."

"I've got to go tell Tara and Will."

"That I'm a pig. I think they already know, pet."

"No-o." She slapped him lightly on the arm before taking his hand and dragging him back in the direction of the kitchen.