Title: Good Day
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Author: Apache Firecat
Characters: Spike/Buffy, Willow/Tara
Rating: PG/K+
Summary: Buffy prepares for her day.
Word Count: 923
Written For: Fan FlashWorks 379: Knife and Dove Drabbles 106: Feel Good About Today
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.









Buffty groaned when her alarm screamed. That was certainly what it was doing, too. It wasn't chiming. It wasn't just going off. It wasn't ringing. The bloody thing was bloody screaming, and it was piercing.

Still, she had a job to do, so she dragged herself up out of bed and headed for the shower. It took her longer than normal as she drifted to sleep, while standing, once even with a headful of shampoo, but she managed to scrub herself cleaning, removing all blood and dirt that was both hers and not as she scrubbed herself. The idea of just falling back into her bed and sleeping for hours -- no, scratch that, days was so very tempting, but she had a job to do.

She always had a job to do, Buffy thought wearily as she hauled herself out of the shower, wrapped in a thick, fluffy bath robe, and headed back to her bedroom or, rather, her mother's bedroom. It felt weird taking her mom's room, but Willow and Tara had moved into hers and were definitely proving helpful. They were the only reasons why she hadn't had to get up even earlier than now when they had volunteered to cook Dawn breakfast. She had heard something sizzling earlier, smelled something wafting deliciously toward her room, but she hadn't had it in her to pull herself out of bed yet.

Every step was torture this morning. All she wanted to do was fall back into her bed. How had her mom done it? But then, too, of course, she hadn't had to be up at all hours of the night every single bloody night (she really was picking up some of Spike's language, Buffy noted) fighting the undead and saving the world. She had only had a piece of what Buffy dealt with on a normal day... night... whatever it was... She thought, groaning loudly again. And just what was normal anyway?

Reaching her room, Buffy dropped her robe onto her bed and headed for her closet. Something was different about her room, though. She stopped and sniffed the air, and her stomach gurgled. She definitely hadn't been imagining it! They had cooked bacon that morning! Maybe they had left her something downstairs.

Turning, however, Buffy caught sight of a plate sitting on her dresser. She grinned, hurried to it, and started shoveling handfuls of bacon and sausage into her mouth. The sausage was not thoroughly cooked, but its edges were too crispy. Still, it was food. It was meat, and it was delicious!

Catching sight of a small piece of paper tucked underneath the plate, Buffy moved it out and was surprised to find a rose too. This had to be Tara's doing, sweet, thoughtful girl that she was. No wonder Willow had snapped her up! The two made an adorable pair. As Buffy was lifting the rose, however, something else caught her attention.

The note had read simply For our Slayer, and was not signed. Buffy also didn't recognize the handwriting which just meant it wasn't Will's. Now, however, she turned to face her wall and the marking that had been left in clear view of anyone entering her bedroom. She burst out laughing, spitting little bits of bacon in every direction. She covered her mouth quickly, but she still couldn't help grinning from ear to ear and shaking her head.

She should be mad -- perhaps --, but she wasn't. Spike had certainly laid his claim this time for there above her bed was not written but rather carved into the wall with a knife one simple word, one name, one element of clear possessiveness: Spike's. She shook her head in wonder. She'd take it up with him later -- perhaps, and then too, maybe she'd just cover him in kisses and write her name on his forehead in felt tip.

The man certainly was something! She'd never known anyone as bold and arrogant -- not even Faith --, but there were also times that he was so sweet and adorable. Buffy suddenly quirked an eyebrow. She held up the handwritten note and compared it to the carvings on her wall. Okay, so maybe the girls hadn't been the ones to cook them breakfast after all, or maybe Spike had just had a hand in convincing them to help out more. (They certainly hadn't when they'd first moved in after all.)

Buffy tucked the note into her top dresser drawer, grabbed another sausage, and popped it into her mouth. Whatever the case, one thing was for certain: She was no longer dreading her day. It might be Monday. She might have had all of three hours' sleep after being beaten to within an inch of her life saving the world again just last night for people who would mostly never even know she exists, let alone the sacrifices she makes for them all on a nightly basis. But getting through her day would mean getting back to him tonight.

Walking over to her closet, Buffy wondered what Faith would wear. It certainly wouldn't be anything work appropriate, but she could always change again after work. She was going to rock Spike's world tonight. She suddenly felt good about her coming day and wonderful about her night, and she had him to thank for it all. She'd thank him tonight, with her lips, her body, and everything else of which she could possibly think. Giggling like a schoolgirl, Buffy began to dress for work and, oddly enough, school too.



The End