Saturday, July 17^th, 2004

“Can you believe that? I mean, really - Domestic Partnership? ... What does that even mean? It sounds like a maid service!” Willow complained to Buffy and Anya as they sat in one of the new booths at the back of the Bronze and waited for Spike and Xander to come back with their drinks.

“It’s not fair! You can marry a hundred year old vampire, but I can’t marry my girlfriend!” Willow continued.

“It’s the Pope’s fault,” Anya told Willow.  “He’s very old and set in his ways … I don’t know why all the Popes have to be so old. You know, Popes used to be quite a bit more fun in the good old days – there was this one back in 1309 … oh, never mind,” Anya said with a sigh as Willow glared at her with raised brows.

“Honestly, though, I don’t know when they got so stodgy,” Anya continued her original point. “You’d think they’d choose a young, hot guy for once … they’d get so many more people to join the church that way – which would get them a lot more money! Plus, maybe they’d be more open to bending a few more of those rules …

“I mean, look at the Scientologists…now, they have the right idea! Headquarters on the beach in Florida, members like Tom Cruise, John Travolta, Lisa Marie Presley, Sonny Bono … that’s how you get people to follow you and give you money … get good looking people involved!”

“Sonny Bono’s dead … and he never was good looking,” Willow pointed out, rolling her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Wills … but we can still have a ceremony – like a Wiccan marriage and tie you guys up and stuff, right?” Buffy sympathized.

“Oh … like bondage? Why didn’t I think of that for our ceremony?!” Anya asked brightly.

“Not bondage, Anya … she’s talking about handfasting,” Willow clarified with another roll of her eyes.

Willow sighed. “Yeah … we can do that … exchange rings and get all tied up … and become a domestic partnership. How romantic.”

Buffy frowned. “I’m really sorry you can’t get married … maybe one day the laws will change … or they’ll elect Brad Pitt or Ben Affleck to Pope-age…  It can still be romantic … in fact, I think you guys getting domesticated in the garden this fall under a full moon would be totally romantic.”

“I guess…” Willow said with another sigh as Spike and Xander appeared with their drinks.  Tara had some make-up work to do for the classes she’d missed while they were in the other dimension, so she volunteered to stay home with the kids tonight and work on that while everyone else supported Lorne’s grand opening at the Bronze.

“Lorne has really made some huge changes to the old place!” Xander exclaimed as he slid in next to Anya. “I didn’t see one rat or roach the whole time we were at the bar!”

“And he added the blooming onion back to the menu!” Spike added with a grin. “Bloody brilliant!”

“I like the theme night idea too … this sock hop idea is grrrooovy!” Xander added.

“Sock hops weren’t bloody ‘groovy’ … sock hops were ‘coooool’ … ‘groovy’ didn’t come along until the sixties, mate,” Spike informed Xander.

“Oh, my mistake … sorry for not being alive then, Daddy-O,” Xander shot back sarcastically as he did his best Fonzie impression by running a comb through his hair and smoothing his fifties-inspired pompadour down with the other hand.

“Xander’s been doing really well with his dance lessons, though … we practiced all week for tonight,” Anya told the group.  “Jitterbug, Lindy Hop, The Twist, The Monkey …”

“The Monkey!?” Spike exclaimed with a laugh. “That I wanna see!”

“A few more of these Jack and Cokes and you may have that privilege …” Xander smirked at Spike, downing the rest of his drink in one gulp.

“I don’t think the karaoke idea is going over very well, though,” Buffy pointed out tilting her head towards the empty stage.

“Awwww, c’mon honey … you’re a good singer - why don’t you sing one for me?” Buffy cooed, leaning against Spike’s shoulder and batting her eyelashes up at him.

“What part of ‘no’ do you lot not understand?” Spike asked, rolling his eyes. “C’mon … I’ll dance with ya’, though,” he offered sliding out of the booth and offering her his hand. 

 “Your turn,” Spike told Xander as he slid into the booth behind Buffy.

“Yeah … I’ll get right on that,” Xander said with a roll of his eyes. 

Anya elbowed him in the ribs.  “Owwww! What was that for?”

“You need more lessons … and I don’t think those blooming onions are helping one bit!” she said as she watched him eat the last of the onion on the table.

“It takes time, Ahn! Spike – how long have you been eating blooming onions and spicy wings?” Xander asked looking at Spike and giving him a wink that Anya couldn’t see.

“Oh…for bloody ever,” Spike told him with a stern look and a nod. “Keep at it … it’ll kick in with time.”

Spike had already extracted a car wash and detailing job on the DeSoto out of Xander for his support of the ‘blooming onion and spicy wings diet’ … and he was still owed an oil change on the DeSoto and the Harley, which they had finally gotten back from Arizona when Detective Lockley got the stolen property charges dropped.  Next, he figured he’d get the same for Buffy’s car … if things worked out right, he wouldn’t have to do any maintenance on any of their vehicles for the rest of Xander’s life … which could be severely shortened on that diet, but still, it would be sweet while it lasted.

“My God, you hepcats are the bee’s knees!” Lorne gushed as he walked up to their booth. “I knew I could count on you to rip the floor up!

“Now, I just need someone to kick off the karaoke part of the evening and everything will be perfect,” Lorne lamented, looking at Spike.

Spike looked around the table … everyone was looking at him expectantly. “What? I said no!”

“You mean no as in ‘eventually’?” Buffy asked him with smile.

“You have real problems with that word, don’t ya, Slayer?”

“C’mon, Spikester!  You’re the talent here … why don’t you croon a love song for your best girl?” Lorne encouraged him.

“Yeah Spike … you can get Anya to sign me up for singing lessons, too …” Xander quipped with a smirk.

“C’mon Spike” … “Yeah, c’mon” … “You can do it” … “Just one song,” everyone spoke at once trying to get him to agree.

“Bloody hell…” Spike muttered. “What’s in it for me?”

“The satisfaction of helping a friend in need,” Lorne suggested hopefully.

“Pfffffftt,” Spike snorted. “That it?”

“How about a pitcher of beer, another blooming onion, and a big plate of spicy wings … extra molten lava hot, just how you like ‘em?” Lorne offered.

“Now, that’s more like it … I don’t mind being a whore, but I ain’t giving it away …” Spike informed him. “I’m not a bloody slut.”

Spike slid out of the booth and pulled Buffy with him.

“I’m not singing!” she protested, pulling back.

“You’re comin’ with me … can’t sing a song to my girl if m’ girl’s way back here in the dark …” Spike explained, pulling her out of the booth.

Spike picked out a song and the house lights dimmed as Lorne took the stage to introduce him.

“Hey all you coooool cats!” Lorne started. “Do I have a sweeeet treat-treat-treat for you!  If you think he can dance, wait ‘til you hear him sing! Hang onto your girls … ‘cause this cat will melt their hearts!  Let’s pop the clutch on this party and welcome Spikester, the Blond Bomb, to the stage!”

Spike rolled his eyes and rubbed a hand across them … that’s all he needed was a buildup like that! As all eyes in the place were glued to him as he took the stage and Lorne handed him the mic.

Spike took a deep breath as the music and background vocals began.  “This is for Buffy …” he announced.

“And for beer!  Woooo-hoooo!” Xander yelled from the back of the room.

Spike ignored Xander and turned to face Buffy, who was standing off to the side, and began to sing as the words scrolled for him on the monitor. As he sang, the dance floor filled up with couples, but Spike didn’t notice … all his attention was on Buffy – his eyes locked with hers, as he sang to his very own Earth Angel …

About half way through the song, Spike walked over to where Buffy was standing and pulled her out on the stage with him. He spun her around and pulled her back against his chest. Keeping hold of her hand, he wrapped an arm across her collarbone and their hips swayed to the slow beat as he continued to hold the mic in the other hand and serenade her.

“I know, your mum told me … Said you got a homerun, that’s brilliant!” Spike told her with a smile.

“Yep! It went right through Jimmy’s legs and then Sally kicked it and Ralphie dropped it … I got to run all the way around!” Annie told him proudly.

“The next Babe Ruth…” Spike smiled.

Annie looked at him perplexed and twisted her mouth around. “You have a Babe Ruth bar?  For me?” she asked hopefully.

Spike laughed. “No, Niblett … Babe Ruth was a baseball player… the candy bar came later.  One day, they’ll be an Anne Joyce candy bar named for you …”

“Oh, ok,” Annie said quietly, still trying to process the fact that 'Babe Ruth' was more than a candy bar. “Papa?”

“Yeah?”

“When will you come to one of the games?” Annie asked, looking at him with her big blue eyes. “The other fathers are there … most of them, anyway …”

Spike sighed and pursed his lips together.  All the T-ball games were in the afternoon, he couldn’t attend them unless he stayed in the car and watched from the parking lot … which he’d done a time or two when she first started, but it really wasn’t the same as ‘being there’ in the stands with the other parents.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been there, Niblett … I want to, but you know I can’t go out in the sun. It isn’t because I don’t want to be there, ‘cause I do,” Spike explained.

“It’s ok …I know,” Annie told him. “Mama needs someone to keep her from yelling at the other parents, is all … she gets cranky sometimes,” Annie explained.

“Does she?” Spike asked with amusement. “And what do the other parents do to make her cranky?”

“Usually they yell stuff at their kids … you can always tell which parents go with which kids ‘cause those are the the ones yelling when they mess up.”

“Ahhhh … but your mum doesn’t like them yellin’?”

Annie shook her head. “No … she says it’s just a game and it’s supposed to be fun and we’re just learning … She says she’s gonna beat the shit out of Mr. Anderson one day …”

“What!? She said she’d beat the what out of him?” Spike asked with wide eyes.

Annie put her hands over her mouth and her eyes matched his – big as saucers.

Spike stuck his hand out. “Bad word,” he informed her. Finally! He could get some of his money back.  Annie crawled out of bed and grabbed a handful of pennies out of her big ‘bad word trust fund’ jar and started counting out ten stacks of ten on the floor to make the dollar that she owed for her bad word.

Spike stuffed them down in his pocket when she finished and tucked her back into bed.  “I’m sure that she won’t beat anyone up, Niblett … so don’t worry ‘bout that,” Spike told her.  “Maybe one day I can find a way to come to your games … and keep your mum under control.”

“Ok, if you're sure,” Annie said, turning over and closing her eyes. “G’ nite.”

“Good night, Niblett,” Spike told her as he dropped a kiss on top of her head and stood up … the hundred pennies jingling in his pocket as he walked out and closed her door behind him.

**~**

After Buffy got her shower, she walked downstairs and out into the garden and looked around … there was nothing out of place, no one about.  She walked up the stairs to the street and looked up and down, but still didn’t see anyone or anything unusual. 

As they walked home from the Bronze earlier she felt like someone was watching them, but never saw anyone that seemed suspicious.  Spike said he felt it, too … but even he couldn’t see or pick up on who it might be.

Buffy shook her head and headed back down the stairs and into the house. Probably nothing … it’s late, been drinking … just Slayer senses on Cuervo … she reasoned.

Buffy dropped her shorts and t-shirt on the floor, climbed into bed with Spike and snuggled up against his side. Spike wrapped an arm around her as she laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

“Who’s Mr. Anderson?” Spike asked her quietly.

“Hmmm?” Buffy asked, opening her eyes. “Who?”

“Mr. Anderson … from T-Ball …” Spike elaborated.

“Oh … God, what an ass! His boy, Ralphie – that poor kid’s as klutzy as you can get – and that man just rags on him so badly … he’s horrible. I mean, Ralphie tries so hard … and that’s really all that’s important – that he does his best, but that man … urgh!

“What brought that up?” Buffy asked, picking her head up and looking at him.

Spike waved his hand at the pile of pennies on the nightstand. “Your daughter says that you’re gonna beat the shit out of him…that I need to come to her games to keep you civil. Ain’t that a bloody kick?! I should keep you civil!?”

Buffy put her hand over her mouth. “Ooops! I guess I shouldn’t rant on the way home, huh?” she asked with a laugh.

“’S alright … got me a hundred ‘bloody hells’ out of the deal!”

Buffy shook her head and laid it back on his shoulder. “He really does need the shit kicked out of him…”

**~**

Buffy was standing on the sidewalk across the street from the Espresso Pump … but it looked different somehow – it had been remodeled and some of the booths had been updated with car parts she recognized from the 1980s and ‘90s - not just the ones from the ‘50s and ‘60s like were there now. 

Buffy looked around and noticed that all the cars in the street were smaller than normal and seemed to run almost silently … hybrids, she surmised. It was dark out … there weren’t a lot of people on the street – she looked around, trying to figure out what she was supposed to be seeing here.

As she stood there looking around and trying figure out what was going on, a couple of young people walked by her.  She recognized the girl immediately – it was Annie … at least twenty years in the future – the long, dark wavy hair, the big blue eyes, Spike’s cheekbones … there was no mistaking her.

“JJ, you’re crazy!” Annie laughed as they walked past and headed into the coffee shop.

Buffy studied the boy closer … his thick, brown hair did remind her of Xander and he had a goofy smile that was unmistakable, too. He was built like a football player – tall and solid. Buffy smiled as she remembered the how excited Xander was on the night JJ was born, describing him as a middle linebacker; he seemed to have lived up to that prediction.

“No – I’m tellin’ ya! If Edward was a real vampire, he wouldn’t look so damn old now – he’d look just like he did when it started like twenty years ago! I mean, seriously! Who do they think they’re foolin’? And what’s with that sparkling stuff? That’s so bogus!” JJ argued. “If Uncle Spike met Edward, he’d so stake him!”

“It’s a movie, JJ!” Annie told him with an eye roll. “It’s just fantasy land ... you know, Hollywood?”

“No – I mean, yeah, I know, but it’s not even close to realistic!  Look at your dad! He’s like what, around a hundred and fifty now? He still looks like he’s twenty five! Hell, he looks like your brother! Fuck, some days he looks better than your brother!” JJ laughed. 

“Yeah, thanks … it’s great having parents that look like they’re your younger siblings! Really makes you feel attractive … in an old lady kinda way,” Annie told him with an eyeroll as she sat down at one of the tables and JJ joined her.

“Awww, I didn’t mean it like that …” JJ started to apologize when suddenly gunshots rang out from inside the coffee shop. 

Buffy dropped to the ground instinctively when the shooting started, but then quickly jumped up and ran towards Annie and JJ, screaming her daughter’s name. When she got there, the shooting had stopped. Annie and JJ were on the ground underneath a man who had been shot several times in the back.

Blood poured out of the wounds on his back as Annie and JJ struggled to get out from under him – Annie was crying and screaming, and JJ looked white as a sheet – like he could barely breathe, as they pushed on the man and crawled backwards out from under him. All the other patrons had either fled or where cowering under their tables … the shooter had apparently also run off.

Buffy reached down and rolled the man off Annie and JJ; he moaned loudly when his back hit the floor. Buffy’s eyes went wide in surprise and confusion … “Angel!?”

**~**

Buffy woke with a jerk … her heart was racing and she felt like she could barely breathe.  She sat up in the bed and tried to get her heart to calm down and her catch her breath.

“What’s the matter?” Spike asked, sitting up next to her.

“Annie … JJ … God, Spike!” Buffy said with wide eyes. “Someone tried to shoot them! Angel saved them!”

“What!? When?! Where?!” Spike asked, looking at her with alarm.

“Future … maybe … I don’t know, twenty years? – but it was Angel! Angel saved them!” Buffy told him, her eyes still wide as saucers.

Spike took a deep breath and relaxed a bit as he rubbed a strong hand on her back.  “It’s the PTB fuckin’ with us, Buffy…” he said, laying back down and pulling her against him as he wrapped a strong arm around her.

“They want the wanker back on the bloody street … they’re playin’ with ya –that’s all.  Who was it doing the shootin’?”

“I don’t know … I didn’t see who it was,” Buffy admitted.

“See? If they wanted to be helpful, they’d a shown you who the shooter was … not Angel bein’ gallant and conveniently there at the time.  It’s not real … who would want to shoot Annie and JJ, anyway?”

“I don’t know … it felt real …” Buffy said quietly.

“Yeah, well, you know how the PTB like to fuck with us … trust me, that’s all it is,” Spike told her as he dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Them playing favorites again.”

“Yeah … I guess,” Buffy agreed quietly, but she wasn’t so sure – it felt completely real.