He had just spent the entire day kissing her; he'd think by now he would want to stop. As he sat tied to what could now be considered Spike's Chair in Giles' living room, he wished he wanted to stop.

Any normal vampire cursed into being engaged to the Slayer, kissing her on a regular basis throughout the day, and planning the rest of his whole bloody unlife with her should have, logically, wanted to kick her in the face, run away from her, and spend the rest of that unlife gathering the lost pieces of his dignity.

No. Not him. Before she even had a chance to clamber off of him and stand up, he decided that he wanted to frame her face in his hands, weave her hair through his fingers, and pull her to him and spend another twenty minutes lost in her. He really wanted to kiss the Slayer.

Thankfully he didn't do this. He acted absolutely disgusted, tried to wipe his mouth out, then he turned and tried to run, but Buffy's high kick caught him in the back before he made it out of the crypt. She grabbed his arm and silently walked him out of the dank crypt – if he ever got this chip out, he would find himself a crypt, but a nicer one – and they all strolled back to Giles' lovely home, the witch walking sadly behind them.

"At least the demons are gone," Xander said.

Anya nodded vigorously. "They were interfering with mine and Xander's—"

"That's enough, honey," Xander interrupted, a blush forming across his face.

Spike chuckled as Anya scowled but put her hand in Xander's. Buffy tightened her hand around his arm, just about tight enough to cut off his nonexistent circulation, and he didn't say the comment he hadn't quite finished forming. It would have been hilarious, though, and would have made Xander sputter and Buffy laugh. Pity that Anya hadn't been able to finish her sentence. It probably would also have made Xander sputter and Buffy laugh.

He wanted Buffy to laugh, then he wanted to kiss her. He hated himself. He really couldn't be considered a vampire at all anymore. First no biting people, now wanting to snog the Slayer. Angelus would call him an embarrassment, and Dru would send him packing. Again.

Giles met them all at his door with a great grin. "I can see again!" he nearly squealed.

"And there's no demons following us!" Xander returned. Spike didn't say anything about the wedding, and Buffy merely dragged him to his chair and started tying him down in stern silence.

He couldn't make sense of that woman. Was she embarrassed? That wouldn't make sense; the spell hadn't been her doing or fault. Was she angry? No cause to be angry either; it was just a bit of snogging and some irrational thoughts concerning songs for the first dance. He gave up. The mind of this Slayer was already a bit messed up, and now the witch had thoroughly mixed it up.

She sat down across from him as he squirmed a bit in the rope. Unfortunately, the knot was going to hold for a few hours. Buffy glared at him silently, only increasing the voltage when he glanced down at her lips.

He looked away. He didn't feel much like tempting the wrath of the Slayer.

Anya and Xander and Giles started talking all at once as Willow moved into the kitchen. Spike heard bits and pieces about suddenly being able to see and nearly forgetting the spell for summoning her old boss and fighting most gallantly. He watched Willow struggle with chocolate chips and tried not to laugh – out of concern, of course, the girl had just lost a love – when she dropped a bowl on her toes. Buffy just sat in silence, alternating between staring at Spike and her friends.

"What?" he finally asked when she started staring at him again.

She jumped. "Nothing," she replied. Too quickly, he thought. But when she clearly started to think about why she was staring at him, she pursed her lips. He couldn't stop a bit of a growl. Buffy rolled her eyes and glanced into the kitchen. "Need help, Will?" She paused. "What are you doing, anyway?"

"Making cookies," the meek voice of a powerful witch replied. Speaking of contrasts, Spike thought with not a little bit of amusement. "To heal my heart and stop my guilt."

"Oh," Buffy said. Spike grinned. Nothing much else you could say to that, really.

Eventually Anya helped Willow with the cookies, and he couldn't help snarking. "Don't I get a cookie?"

"No," Buffy retorted.

He sighed. Rude, but at least she was speaking, finally. "Well, I got to have something. I still have Buffy taste in my mouth." Not that he was really complaining. She tasted like she smelled – strawberries and cream, warm and cold at the same time. It was a pleasant combination.

"You're a pig, Spike," she replied, somehow managing to make it sound completely surprising and also a basic fact of life.

"Yeah." He didn't deny it. He'd been called far worst, and he suspected he would be again. Then he made some quip about her choice for first dance, and everyone's faces when they heard him were priceless. Then Willow, trying to look angry, shoved a cookie in his mouth as Buffy stormed away. Totally worth it.

"We may be into a forgetting spell later," he heard Buffy say from the kitchen. He bit off a piece of cookie. Maybe she would be, but he wanted to remember what it was like to have Buffy in his lap, remember everything about tonight even as he cringed in embarrassment to recall everything that happened.

It would probably be better to remember, to remember why exactly he wanted to kiss the Slayer so badly.

As he took another bite of admittedly delicious cookie, he heard Buffy screech about that commando boy. He growled again and glared at the kitchen. As she ran out the door, he tried not to think about why her words about a decent, reliable boy were a hot iron stake in his heart.