This is the song 'Wedding Day', but I took the real lyrics, more as 'suggestions' so, it's just sort of the if-whoever-wrote-it-was-really-obsessed-with-Spuffy version. I hope you like the sequel, and thanks again to everyone who reviewed If I'm Not In Love With You- you're opinions make my millennium! Oh, and just FYI: I own zip.

As We Are

Buffy woke up suddenly, her eyes opened, "Spike," she murmured still shaking from her dream. It had all seemed so real... he'd been back, lying beside her in the bed and they'd been talking about their dreams and she'd drifted off, and, to her, it seemed as if she'd only closed her eyes and ended up here.

"Here, love. Sorry, would have stuck around 'till you woke up, but Dee and the Bit were having another hair-pulling contest. Almost as bad as the bitty Slayers were, those two," a peroxide blonde head peered around the doorframe as Spike spoke. "You must have been right tired, getting out of shape, Slayer." He paused a moment and entered the room fully, watching the slow descent of one tear down her cheek, "What's wrong, love? Bad dream?" He kicked off his boots and settled down beside her, sliding one arm around her waist and the other began stroking her hair.

"No," Buffy said, slowly descending into reality, "just forgot you were back, again." It had been happening since just a month after Spike returned from the dead and came back into her life. She'd wake up and believe that he was still dead, normally it took her a few seconds to see something like his new duster over their bedroom chair, or feel his cool arms around her, or over her. But sometimes she was just too distraught to notice any of this until Spike himself came into the picture.

"It's been almost a year, pet," Spike said, kissing the top of her head, "we're going to have to put a giant 'Spike Lives' sign on the ceiling if this goes on much longer- I can't stand to see you hurting like this much more."

"Yeah, a year," Buffy said, tracing patterns on his chest with one finger, "we going to do the whole romantic-anniversary thing?"

"'Course we are, love, leave it all to me. Or rather William, he loves it when I let him do things like this." It had become habit to refer to William as a separate entity, though the soul and the demon had made piece, William and the man he'd become, Spike, were still very much at odds. Buffy gave an appreciative laugh.

"Well, what are you and William planning, then?" Buffy asked, not so much because she cared- Spike was a romantic and most things he did for her were perfect, but because she wanted to hear the sound of his voice as she fell asleep.

"Saturday night, I think, and don't give me that look, love, I know our anniversary's Thursday, I'm sure I'll find something to do with you then too... But Thursday we've still got a houseful, haven't we? But, I'm sure you remember, Red's off to spend some time with Kennedy- why anyone'd do that willingly boggles the mind- but anyway, she's off on Friday morning. Then, on Saturday night Niblet and the boy are off to do unspeakable things in clubs," he paused, watching with some amusement the look that flitted across Buffy's features, "kidding, love. The boy's going to go do something hopelessly stupid, but I made him promise not to summon anything very nasty."

"And as the only member of the Spike Appreciation Society I'm sure he took you're command as his wish and offered you human blood or something?" Buffy teased, Andrew's hero-worshipping ways were hilarious, and the look on his face every time he found Spike shirtless in the house was priceless.

"Like to think you're a member too. I'm going to make us a romantic dinner, something classic, maybe I'll get the Bit to help me with the cooking. And I'll go out tomorrow and buy you something, alright, pet?"

"What kind of something?" She asked, Spike liked giving her things, and the Council of Watchers had, finally, decided that he had died for their best interests and was now training a Slayer, despite some rumoured tries at string-pulling from Giles, he was being paid a rather hefty Watcher's salary, and Buffy was getting back pay as a Slayer and Watcher money. Finances weren't something they ever counted on having to worry about again.

"It's a surprise, love," Spike said, kissing the top of her head. "Which means I can't tell you."

"You can tell me," she groused, "you just won't."

"Possibly, pet. Get some sleep, you trained too long today, then going out on patrol... you must be exhausted." Spike said, kissing her again softly and running his hand up and down her spine, making her shiver. She knew she'd overdone it that day, but she'd had so much bundled up energy and the patrol had been extremely relaxing. And the bruise on her thigh that had sent him into an apoplectic fit wasn't that bad, it would heal in a day or two. The slice on Dee's hip had worried both of them far more, so she was currently recuperating, and Buffy wasn't so naïve as to think there was any chance that she was alone in her bedroom.

"Love you," she muttered into his chest, already drifting off.

Dawn had almost giggled when he'd asked her for her help. She'd managed to restrain herself at the last moment.

"You are the perfect boyfriend, Spike!" She'd exclaimed, jumping up and wrapping her arms around his neck,

"Buffy will love this!"

"I know that, Niblet," Spike grinned, glad, as she squeezed his neck again, that he didn't have to breathe. "But, well, I know her, she's going to have had some childhood fantasy about this I can only dream of living up too at this point. And you're going to know every sordid detail."

"You're right about that," Dawn backed into her armchair in the living room and smiled dreamily, "she wants a diamond, but not a regular one. She wanted it to, she always says this, ever since she was six and went through her wedding faze, or so I'm told, 'show that he loves me'. No clue what that might mean, can you write something on a diamond ring?"

"Be bloody expensive, pet, but I think you could. Have to be a damn big rock though... kind of unwieldy in a fight to have a pound of diamond on your ring finger, innit?" Spike said, considering it. "So let's chalk that one up as bloody impossible until further notice."

"She wanted him to ask her straight, very traditional, kneeling and all. You going to be able to swallow your ego whole for that one?"

"Been kneeling in front of the big sis for a long time, Bit, no worries. Now, about the whole asking that wanker in

LA thing, do I need to?"

"Dad or Angel?"

"Your Da. Wouldn't ask the great poof even if she asked me to," Spike snapped.

"That's a lie," Dawn accused, having pulled her knees up and settled down with her hot chocolate between two hands, looking at Spike, who was sprawled out across the couch across from her.

"A very big one," he conceded, "but only if your sister asked, which even she wouldn't do... would she?"

"No, even Buffy isn't that dumb. Dad probably won't even make it for the wedding," Dawn sighed. "You won't hurt her, will you? I mean, you won't go off with your sexy secretary called Felicity every Saturday night and do naughty things in cheap motels? 'Cause Buffy's had enough of that for a lifetime."

"Platelet, the closest thing I've got to a secretary is the boy, and that's only 'cause he films everything I say."

"Was that a mental picture you really needed to give me?" Dawn asked, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"You said I'd cheat on your sister, thought you knew me better than that, Bit," Spike said, a touch vindictively.

"Think that's the one thing I've never done to a woman. Dru would've killed me, and your sis wouldn't even have the grace to do that. So, you going to be home tonight to go out and look for the rock to totally empty my bank account with?"

"Yeah, soon as the sun goes down?" She asked, it was a Saturday morning, and her plans for the day involved lounging around the house and maybe getting in a bit of Andrew torture while she was at it. Helping Spike pick out her sister's engagement ring had just been a bit of a bonus added on. She noticed, while still thinking, that Spike had nodded and left the room, probably to go get some sleep. He was up most days, but tried to sleep between noon and five, so as to keep his internal clock from turning off.

Dawn thought that if she ever got into a serious relationship, she wanted it to be like Buffy and Spike's. She lived with them and knew all the ups and downs, there was fire there, and they were constantly playing with it. She'd heard their fights, and learned some very interesting new expletives from them, also a lot of new ways to slice and dice certain more... delicate parts of the male anatomy. Apparently Buffy and Anya had had a few good chats about her vengeance demon days, either that or her sister was far more imaginative than Dawn had ever thought.

But she'd also seen the flip side of all that passion, one of her clearest memories of the past year was a night about six months ago. It had been an exceptionally ordinary day, Buffy had trained all morning, been exhausted and curled up with Spike all afternoon while Dawn and Dee were at school and Andrew was off doing whatever Andrew did whenever he wasn't bugging someone. Spike had, for some reason, had one of his rare fits of domesticity, and made them dinner. It had been an amazing steak- sautéed to perfection, and Buffy had been impressed. Dawn had gotten up from the table a little earlier than everyone else, clearing her plate and cutlery as she left, just as she was putting them down in the sink for someone (she was guessing Buffy) to wash them later when Buffy said, apparently completely out of the blue.

"You have no idea how much I love you, Spike," she'd just said it, in a softer voice than she normally used, but that was it, no change of expression from the soft smile that had been playing across her face since Spike had announced his plans to cook for them.

"I know, love," was all he'd said, but Dawn had noticed the way he was stroking her back and looking into her eyes, and the way she was playing with his fingers on top of the table, lifting them and letting them fall back on to the wood with small 'thuds' every couple of seconds. She and Willow had realized that, were they to feel inclined, they could have caused an apocalypse at that moment and it would have totally flown over the head's of the two people sitting chastely in front of them.

Not, Dawn thought, that they were always chaste. Damned thin English walls had left her spending many nights in Dee's room. And she wasn't the only one who noticed the games of footsy at dinner. And she'd been the unlucky fool who'd walked in on a quickie in Spike's new car the day after he'd bought it (she'd insisted on sitting in the passenger seat since), though she was told that Andrew had interrupted more times than could be counted and was just past due for death if he ever entered their bedroom without knocking again. Dawn wondered, some days, whether what Buffy and Spike had was normal, was this how people in love always acted?

She was nineteen, she should have known by now. She blamed it on them, actually, the first year she'd been actually alive, her biggest influence had been Spike, a man who loved with all his being, whether it had a soul or not, contrary to popular belief, she'd never had a crush on him. A couple fantasies about the wicked things she heard Buffy telling Willow he could do, but, well, she was almost twenty and she was still a virgin. It had always been more of a Xander thing in Sunnydale, and since then Spike had been either dead or firmly taken. And then there was Andrew.

That felt pathetic. But she knew he had feelings for her, and she also knew he wasn't quite as annoying as he had once been, at least not to her. But, though there were sparks, none of the feelings Buffy had ever described to her were there. Which is why she wondered if she were modeling her wants and needs for a relationship on something she could never hope to achieve. They'd been through so much together, she knew that, and she'd been the only one around to see Spike after Buffy's death, and Buffy after Spike's. They had been going through hell on earth. And she'd seen the look on Buffy's face this past year- that soft smile that she'd never once seen before. Hard, cynical Buffy had was gone, replaced by a girl who relished in the fact that she got red roses from her boyfriend and who was about to get engaged.

Dawn heard her sister's giggle emanating from the kitchen, then something low, Cockney, and undeniably suggestive that she couldn't quite catch. Buffy's giggled, "absolutely not, Spike," she caught with clarity. A resigned sigh, a promise of some alone time later, and one or the other stalking down to the training room in the basement while the bedroom door closed, then the bathroom door slammed.

"I HEARD THAT PET!" Echoed from the basement. How, Dawn thought briefly, before retreating to her room to get headphones in case this turned explosive, could someone who didn't breathe have so much lungpower?