What's freedom for? To know eternity.
- T. Roethke

"Don't say anything about his hands, OK?"

Rose stood on the front porch of the house on Revello Drive and gave her boyfriend explicit instructions on how to behave with her parents.

"Why?" Chris asked. He was beginning to wonder if his girlfriend wasn't just a bit crazy.

"Ah, well...they're very cold...just a little condition he has."

She tried to think of something that would prepare Chris for what he was about to encounter.

"But remember...cold hands...warm heart. He's really very kind, once you get to know him."

Chris shuddered. He looked at the woman standing next to him. The most beautiful woman, the most infuriating woman he'd ever known. He couldn't believe that he was the first man she'd ever introduced to her parents. She must love him. Really love him.

Rose gave a quick knock on the door and then let herself in. She motioned for Chris to follow her.

"I'm home!" she called into the house.

Buffy ran out from the kitchen.

"Rose!"

She swept Rose into her arms and gave her a hug.

"Ow! Mom! Not so tight!" Rose gasped from her mother's strong embrace.

"Oops! Sorry...forgot my own strength..." Buffy's voice trailed off as she saw Chris standing by the door.

"Who's this?" she smiled.

"This is Chris. The man I love."

Chris blushed. He came further into the room and shook Buffy's hand.

"Very happy to meet you at last, Mrs. Summers."

Chris smiled down at Buffy. She was so tiny to have such a powerful handshake. She appeared to be very young to be Rose's mother, but as he took a second look, he noticed that there were streaks of grey running through her dark blonde hair.

"Where's dad?" Rose asked.

"He's downstairs working on another of his projects."

Rose laughed. She turned to Chris.

"Dad's always got some scheme going."

She went over to the basement door, opened it and called down the stairs.

"Dad! I'm home. And I have a big surprise for you!"

Spike walked slowly up the steps. He saw his daughter standing in the doorway. She was beaming. He sprinted to the top of the stairs.

"My little love!" he cried and embraced her. "What's all this noise...and why do you look so blooming happy?"

"Look, Dad."

She pointed to Chris standing nervously in the living room. She took her father by the hand and led him over to Chris.

"Chris, this is my father, William."

Chris held out his hand. Spike hesitated for a moment. He looked at his daughter. She was gazing intently at the young man. She was glowing, innocent with love for this young man. Spike felt a shock of recognition at the look on her face, in her eyes.

"Just like her mum," he thought, "on Xander's wedding day so many years ago."

He sighed deeply and reluctantly held out his hand.

"Here we go," he thought.

He caught Chris' eyes and held them as their hands touched.

Chris didn't flinch at the icy coldness of Spike's touch. He just smiled.

"We have a lot in common, sir."

"How's that?" Spike growled and chanted to himself, "He's not a vampire, not a demon, not a warlock, not a..."

"Ah...we both love your daughter."
 

* * * * *
 

Chris and Rose drove slowly up Highway One on their way back to San Francisco.

"Why didn't you tell them?" he asked.

"Tell them what?"

"You know. About the baby."

"Saving it for next time. Besides, I think Dad guessed."

"Rose, is there something else you want to tell me about your Dad?"

She laughed and rubbed her stomach.

"Let's just say he has a deep appreciation for living things."

"He's so pale. Is your dad a..."

"Did I ever tell you that I was born in a cave?" she said, quickly changing the subject.

She caressed the back of his neck with her hand.

"It's why I like the dark, the night so much, I guess."

She gave him a passionate look.

"A cave? Oh dear god..."

He pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the engine. Because he just had to kiss her. And he needed both hands.

"Love you Rose."
 

* * * * *
 

That night, after they'd said goodbye to Rose and Chris and given them their blessing, Spike and Buffy were nestled under the covers in their large king-size bed. Spike had insisted on getting the huge bed, because when they made love in their old narrow bed, it always seemed that they ended up on the floor and he thought Buffy was getting a little too old to be thrashing around on the hard wood as he made passionate love to her. He wouldn't have dreamed of telling her that, of course, because she would have insisted that she was still as young as ever, and accuse him of all sorts of things of which he was absolutely not guilty. Like not loving her, or wanting her as much now that she was older.  He wanted her, loved her more than ever. Every day with her was another miracle.

"Spike," she asked, "what are you thinking?"

"Thinking 'bout all my days. My days with you."

"All good days?"

"Well, let's say interesting," he laughed. "So many days. Each one a bloody revelation."

"Like when we smashed that old house down? Our first time?"

"I believe that was the first through twentieth time," he laughed.

"Or when Rose was born."

"Yes, that was the second best day."

"Not first? What was the first?"

"The day you said to me, 'William, my love.' The day I finally knew you loved me. That's the day. That was my 'one good day'.

"But what about today? And tomorrow? It's not over yet. More good days to come."

"Buffy, my love. Whatever happens in this world, it'll never be over between the two of us. I suspect that we'll just have to put up with a bleeding eternity of brilliant days."

He moaned as he felt her hands sweeping over his skin, down his chest, caressing him in all the places he loved. She knew his body so well.

"Brilliant...brilliance...I'll show you..." she murmured against his skin.

* * * * *

"OK!" He panted, exhausted after hours of extremely intense and erotic lovemaking.

What she could do to him with her hands, mouth, her whole body...it was just a bleeding crime.

"I was wrong! Today!" he cried. "Today is the best bloody day!"

"See. I told you so," she said smugly. "Just wait 'til tomorrow."

"Oh, dear god..."
 

* * * * *