Here is a stupid little 100-word drabble, set during ‘After Life’. Not specifically a birthday fic, unless you want it to be. Rating PG.
“Wherever I was,” Buffy told Spike, “I was happy. At peace.”
Spike gazed at her with his eyebrows raised.
“I knew that everyone I cared about was all right. I knew it,” Buffy went on. “Time didn’t mean anything, and there was music. Songs by Dingoes Ate My Baby, only with someone else on lead guitar, not Oz, and I was singing vocals. And I was boinking groupies, only like I was the guy, which was weird but, hey, kind of fun.”
Spike’s eyebrows climbed even higher. “You don’t mean … ?”
“Yeah, Spike,” Buffy confirmed. “I think I was in Devon.”