FIC: Riders PG-13 (30/30)

Epilogue
Sunnydale
One Week Later

“Here you go, pet, one frosty cold diet Pepsi.” Spike placed the can and a glass of cracked ice in front of Buffy and slid into the seat next to her.

The Bronze, even very early on Saturday night, was already packed and the blonde couple had been lucky to grab a small corner table.

Buffy leaned over and lightly kissed him. “Thanks.”

The band announced a ten minute break and exited the stage.

Buffy poured her Pepsi over the ice. “I saw Giles earlier today.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “How’s he doin’?”

“Much better. He’s starting to complain about sitting still, but the doctor told him to stay off his feet for a couple more days.”

Spike pulled a piece from his blooming onion. It was deep fried perfectly. “Well, it’s only been a week and that was a nasty wound.” He smirked. “I bet he wishes he had your Slayer healin’ ‘bout now.”

Buffy pouted. “Yeah, it’s been a whole week and I still wish…”

“You’re not goin’ to start that all over again, are you?”

“But Spike…”

“Slayer, I told you there’s just no way you could keep that horse. What were you plannin’ on doin’ with it?  Ride it over here to the Bronze or maybe out on patrol?”

He took a swallow of his beer and set the bottle down. “Besides, Kale was so excited when you gave it to him; you saw the look on the kid’s face, that was a dream come true.”

Buffy smiled. “Yeah, that was awesome.” She swirled the Pepsi in her glass. “But you were the one that made a real difference, Spike, by giving Celeste the rest of your poker money.”

Spike shrugged. “Wanted a chance to give ‘em somethin’ in return for all they did for us.”

The band, back on stage, started to play a slow ballad.

“Come on Spike, let’s dance.”

“Sure, luv.”

The couple joined the other dancers on the crowded floor, content within each other’s arms. Buffy had just snuggled tighter against Spike when she felt someone tap her shoulder.  “Willow?”

“Hi Buffy.” Willow’s anxious face came into view. “I’m sorry, but Giles called. He needs you right away; a group of biker demons just rode into town.”

Buffy sighed. “I’ll be right there, I just need to run home and pick up weapons.”

She looked at Spike. “Coming with?”

“Always up for a spot of violence, luv. Besides you’ll need me to watch your back.” At the utterance of the phrase, they both grinned.

Holding hands, they worked their way through the crush of people.

“You know Spike; I’ll bet there’ll be a couple motorcycles left once we kill

the demons. My mom would probably let me have one of them.”

“You don’t drive.”

“I could learn. After all you have a bike, how hard can it be? Hey,

you could teach me.”

“No bloody way. You’ll get yourself killed ridin’ one of those.”

“You ride one.”

“I’m already dead.”

“I can’t have a horse and I can’t get a motorcycle either? This so isn’t fair.

I’m the Slayer; I should have my own transportation.”

“Get a bloody bicycle.”

“Hey Buster, do you have any idea how hard it is to ride a bicycle in boots with four inch heels while carrying a sword?”

“Suddenly, you’re carryin’ your own sword?”

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Giles bought me a scabbard. Nice. Hand tooled.

“Where’d Rupes find it?”

“Ordered it online.”

“Bet he got a good price, too.”

Buffy Anne Summers, Vampire Slayer extraordinaire and William the Bloody a.k.a Spike, her Master Vampire lover and backup, hold hands as they saunter through the door of the brightly lit Bronze and slip fluidly into the night shadows where, even on foot, they manage to save the denizens of Sunnydale. Again.

The End

Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/191623.html