In celebration of spikewriter's birthday I'm reposting the drabble I did a long time ago in honour of her awesome writing. This is not the greatest fic in the world - this is just a tribute. "Seven Years in the Dessert".
Seven Years in the Dessert
Buffy answered the door and stared with amazement at the familiar figure outside. It had been years since their last meeting, when he’d tried to apologise for chaining her up, had said that he would make it up to her somehow, and she’d snapped “Yeah, do that!” and pushed him away. She’d missed him, and her anger had long since dissipated.
“Spike! Where have you been?”
“Been searchin’ for something to make amends, pet. Struggled through gateaux, trifle, banana split, cheesecake, Pavlova, even ice cream; but got it at last. Here you are, Slayer, your mum’s lost bra.”