“Willow? You home?” Buffy sang out as she closed the front door behind her, throwing her keys on the stand beside her. She glanced up the stairs, brow furrowed. “Hell-o? Wills?”

She ducked her head into the dining room to check the kitchen, but came up empty. Shrugging, she checked her watch. One forty-two. Dawn would still be at school for a while, and Willow must be at the Magic Box. With a wan smile, she pulled off her coat and headed for the stairs.

With a tired groan, she ran a hand over her face, grimacing at the seemingly semi-permanent scent of burgers and fries etched into her skin. At least I have time for a shower... or a bath. She exhaled. God, a bath would be so good right now.

Making her way up the stairs, she began unbuttoning her shirt, almost desperate to rid herself of the blinding orange attire. She sent a longing glance towards the bathroom as she made her way to her room for her robe and towel, certain she’d left them on the floor that morning. Looking up as she toed open the door open, she froze, her shirt half unbuttoned.

For a moment, she thought she had walked into the wrong room.

Her bedroom was transformed, the bright floral was gone, as were the dated posters and the worn pillows, yet everything was in its place.

Yet, in front of her was an entirely new room. The same old wrought iron bed was in place, but it was covered in a comforter in a beautiful shade of dark rose, that looked thin enough to just be a simple weave, but thick enough to provide plenty of warmth. It was accented by a simple black quilt folded at the end and the multitude of grey, white and rose cushions piled at the headboard.

A plush, oval rug in white adorned the floor, and heavy drapes in the same shade of dark grey as the pillows on the bed hung over her windows. The wall paper was same, but the photos that had been tacked messily to the walls had been removed and placed in multi-windowed frames along the walls, and a new mirror had been placed over the dresser, a simple oval mirror with a thin black frame.

The dresser itself had been rearranged, a lacy cover thrown over it, with the many photo frames and junk that littered it moved to give her more space. There were a few photos still there, mostly of her and the gang or with Dawn. Her perfumes were arranged almost artfully, along with her diary and a few of the knick-knacks she had collected over the years. Her make-up and the few books she owned were... on a new shelf?

A shelf had been put up on either side of the dresser, her makeup, books and Mr Gordo were placed upon them almost too carefully. She glanced over at the bedside table and saw it had had the same treatment as the dresser. She smiled slightly as she noticed that the photo frame Dawn had given her for her birthday was at the forefront. There were even new posters on the wall, featuring some of her favourite bands.

The room had transformed from a teenage, outdated mess to being a sophisticated, adult, absolutely gorgeous bedroom.

“Oh, my god...” She whispered, awestruck.

“So, you like it then, love?”

Buffy spun around, her breath catching. Spike stood behind her, about three feet away, hands shoved in his duster pockets. He was biting his lip.

“Spike, you...?”

“I know, it’s a big change, and I shouldn’t have just come in here and done it without your permission,” Spike rushed into an explanation, his hands coming out of his pockets to back up himself up with gestures. “But I just... you said you wanted a change, and well... I didn’t throw anything away, I mean, except for the bloody rubbish under your bed and I just... moved it all around, put up the shelves and whatnot, but if you don’t like it, I can put it all back, I just...”

“Spike.”

Spike sighed. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

Buffy smiled, closed the distance between them, and pressed a kiss to his mouth.

It was soft, light and careful, a happy little kiss that you’d expect between a couple, not between vampire and Slayer. She let it linger for a few moments, her hand lightly cupping his hollow cheek as she smiled against his full lips.

Pulling away, she demurely brushed a thumb over his bottom lip.

Spike watched her carefully, his eyes switching between her lips and her eyes. She hadn’t kissed him like that since the time he was tortured by Glory for information on the Key. His chest felt tight, the nerves squeezing his dead heart. “So... you like it then?”

Buffy smiled. “I love it.”

Spike broke out in a grin, “Really?”

“Yes, Spike, I...” Buffy turned, heading towards her room, a bounce in her step. “How on earth did you do all this?”

Spike dropped his head, slowly following her, “Bought it all last night, set all up after you left for the daily grind at Doublemeat. Dawn helped me bring it in before she went for school.”

“And the money?”         

“Turns out the demons at Willie’s are gettin’ steadily worse at poker,” The vampire smirked. “Won it all fair and square, Slayer, cross my heart.”

Buffy’s hand came up without her realising it, tracing the cross symbol for him. She spoke, her eyes on her hand. “This is the most amazing, thoughtful... selfless thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“’s nothing, pet.”

Buffy’s hand slid down from his chest to grab his hand, dragging him into her room. “What do you say we, uh... break it in?”

Spike faltered, hesitating at the door. He’d never truly been offered access to her bedroom before. He’d only ever been in there to create the surprise he’d just made for her. “I... I didn’t do it for that, love. You don’t have to—“

Buffy held up a hand, silencing him. “I know. Which is exactly why it’s going to happen.”

And with that, Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a tender kiss on his mouth and kicking the door closed behind them before leading him slowly to the bed.