"My eyes are crossing from trying to read this stuff, Giles," Buffy complained, slumping her shoulders and making a face. She shut the book of prophecy she had been studying with an emphatic "foomp."

Xander, as always ready to seize an opportunity not to do actual research, added brightly, "I know, I'll order pizza and we'll party!" Giles raised his eyebrows, tucked his chin and regarded Xander skeptically from over his glasses. Xander hastily put on a mock-serious expression and added, "Well, not party-party, just taking a break for a few minutes before we start really digging into the books party."

"Oooh, pizza would be yummy," piped Willow, barely visible behind a stack of books of arcane knowledge. She twisted her mouth to one side and squared her shoulders. "Well, I didn't get any supper and I'm hungry!" she said rather defensively.

"All well and good for you, but who cares if I'm hungry?" The British accented voice floated down from the stacks. Spike, former mortal enemy of the Slayer and now reluctant ally and enthusiastic, though secret, lover of the same, sauntered to the table and lounged into the chair next to her. "Can you get that with A+ instead of anchovies?" Spike glanced downward and muttered, more to himself than anyone else, "I hate anchovies." A chorus of "eww"s greeted Spike's joking request for A+ topping.

Some time later, two empty pizza boxes and half a dozen empty soft drink cans littered the table. Xander was reading the comics from the "Sunnydale Herald and Post Tribune." "Ha ha ha! Did you guys see today's 'Dilbert'? It's hysterical." He looked around the table. Four pair of eyes looked at him blankly.

"Xander, I am too full to laugh. I really shouldn't have eaten that last piece of pizza." Buffy burped delicately behind her hand.

"Hey, give me that section of paper," said Willow. "Let's look at our horoscopes."

"C'mon, pet, don't tell me you believe in that codswallop?" Spike said, while tickling Buffy's knee under the table.

"Well . . . sorta. . . sometimes," Willow responded a bit hesitantly. Then, brightening, "So, Spike, what's your sign?"

Spike chuckled. "I've not the foggiest, luv."

Not to be put off, Willow pursued the subject. "When's your birthday?"

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, Spike tried to ignore the query. Buffy prodded him in the side. "Yeah, come on, give. When's the day?"

Finally, Spike looked at his lover and said, "Today. The 23rd."

"Oh, happy birthday!" squeaked Willow. "So you're a Taurus."

"Bull-headed, that's you, all right," whispered Buffy.

As Willow began to read Spike's horoscope, Buffy began to plot. "Be right back," she whispered to Spike as she went into Giles' office. She dialed the phone and waited for an answer, a smile playing around her mouth. "Hello, Mom?"

~*~*~*~*~

"Are you sure your Mother wanted us all to come over? At this late hour?" Giles asked uncomfortably as the group walked up to Buffy's kitchen door an hour later.

"Yep. She has something she wants to share with all of us. That's what she said. And I am a good girl. I always do what Mother says," Buffy said with a virtuousness that was patently false. Spike snorted with laughter at this and was promptly elbowed in the ribs with enough force to have broken a mortal man's ribs. "Shut up, you! I am a good girl!" Then, leaning close to the blond vampire, she added, so softly no one else heard, " And I'm even better when I'm a bad girl." Arriving at the door, Xander suddenly stopped. "Buff? There are no lights on in your house." Drawing his brows together with concern, he added, "You don't think. . .?"

Buffy opened the door, slowly, listening for sounds in the dark. "Mom?" she called quietly. Everyone crowded in behind her. Then Buffy flipped on the light. Joyce popped up from behind the island, wearing a pointy party hat.P> "Surprise!" A banner reading "HAPPY BIRTHDAY SPIKE!" hung above the door leading to the rest of the house. A birthday cake decorated with a tiny tombstone stood on the counter. Next to the cake was a punch bowl filled with red punch.

Joyce walked up to the vampire whom she had befriended some time back. She held open her arms and Spike stepped into her embrace. "Happy Birthday, Spike," Joyce whispered as she kissed his cheek.

Spike rested his chin on Joyce's shoulder a moment. "Thanks, Joyce. I wish my mum had been more like you and less like the drunken harpy she was." Stepping back, the vampire looked at the trappings of the impromptu party and smiled. "I've never had a birthday party. Ever." Memories of Dru passed quickly through his mind, clouding his face. "I've thrown a few, though, but no one ever threw one for me."

~*~*~*~*~

As the party went on around them, Giles wandered over to Joyce. "How did you put this together so quickly?"

"I just ran down to the supermarket. They had a set up for a 50th birthday with a cake and a little tombstone. I thought, Spike is _way_ over 50, but on the whole, it seemed appropriate."

"This may help him to feel better about the situation, you know, how he has to aid us in fighting the evils of the Hellmouth. Help him to feel as if he is among friends."

~*~*~*~*~

Slipping away from the party, Buffy and Spike sat together on a bench in the garden. Under cover of the darkness, they held hands, her small warm one tucked inside his large, cool one. Spike looked up at the stars in the clear spring sky.

"I like your mum, you know."

"Yeah, and how weird is that? And even weirder, she likes you."

Chuckling ruefully, Spike said, "Here I am 201 years old today, a blood-sucking evil demon made all soft and gooshy by an 18 year old girl and her mum. Dru was right. I am soft." He grinned devilishly. "Well, not all of me."

"Shhh! Xander could pop up any minute! Or Giles!" Spike began to trace little designs with his finger on Buffy's arm." So, let's go somewhere they're not," he suggested, his voice thickening with rising passion.

So they did.

******THE END******