Title: Fireworks

Summary: Future fic. Angel and Spike go Valentines Day shopping. B/A D/S

A/N: Written for 15minuteficlets. Believe it or not the word was quest.

 

            This was hell, or at the very least a division of it. Maybe a pocket hell dimension. Angel groaned as he and Spike walked out of the sixth store.

 

            “Y’know I liked you better when you were cutting hearts out of shop girls for Dru,” Spike growled.

 

            “Think this is fun for me either?” Angel bit out.

 

            “Your own bloody fault for waiting this long to buy her something.”

 

            “Thanks, Spike. I didn’t ask for your input. You’re the one who wanted to come along with me,” Angel snapped. He’d had enough of the blond vampire’s opinions.

           

            “Had to pick up Bit’s present. Ordered it weeks ago on the ‘net. If you’d catch up to the 21^st century we wouldn’t be traipsing through this place pushing and shoving with all the other blokes who forgot today is Valentines Day.” Spike tapped a cigarette out of the pack, well aware he couldn’t smoke inside the mall. He put the unlit cigarette in his mouth.

 

            Angel quirked an eyebrow at Spike. He was pretty sure he didn’t want to know, but he was running out of ideas for Valentines. “Where’d you buy Dawn’s present?”

 

            Spike grinned. “Fredrick’s of Hollywood. Little bitty red number with garters. Platelet looks smashing in red.”

 

            Angel grumbled. “I am not buying Buffy trashy lingerie for Valentines.”

 

            “Right, s’pose to be hearts, flowers and chocolates, innit it?” Spike smirked. “Trust me, you’ll have more fun with a g-string and the slayer li-”

 

            “Finish that sentence and I will stake you.”

 

            Spike smirked. “Right, Mate. Fredrick’s is right up the way. Maybe we’ll find something sweet enough for our darlin Buffy ‘long the way.”

 

            Spike sauntered into Fredrick’s like the frequent customer he probably was. The shop girl squealed and literally bolted from behind the counter to throw herself at Spike, confirming the frequent customer status.

 

            “Here to pick up your package for Dawnie?”

 

            Spike untangled himself from the girl’s arms. “Yup. Wanna show Angel here something tasteful for a pretty blonde? Bout the Bit’s size, not as tall.”

 

            The girl smiled, raking her eyes over the dark vampire. “Oh I think we can find something he’ll like.”

 

            Two hundred and sixty three dollars later, Angel and Spike walked out of Fredrick’s.

 

            “I can’t give Buffy just lingerie for Valentines. She’s expecting romance.”

 

            Spike chuckled. “I know it hasn’t been that long, Peaches. Bloody heard you this morning. There’ll be plenty o’ romance.”

 

            Angel shot Spike a glare. “I wasn’t talking about sex. That’s not really a once a year deal for Buffy and me. I’m talking about romance: candles, flowers, chocolate, music…that sort of thing. You were a poet.”

 

            “Still am. Ask Niblet. Alright, you want romance. We’ve got a whole bloody mall advertising romance. Surely we can find something.”

 

*

 

            Buffy cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brow. She was certain she was hearing whining from somewhere. She walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway. The whining was still there and seemed to be coming from the front door. She opened it to see a white ball of fluff sitting on the welcome mat. A smile exploded across her face as she bent down scooped the puppy up.

 

            “Where did you come from?” She asked in a baby voice as she scratched the dog’s ears and laughed when it licked her face. Her fingers hung on a slim platinum chain around the dog’s neck. She unhooked it and a blood red ruby heart the size of a nickel fell into her palm. The smile got bigger when a pair of black booted feet came into view.

 

            Buffy stood up, the puppy clutched to her chest, the necklace fisted in her hand. Angel stood on the threshold with a gold Godiva bag, a dozen white roses and a large Fredrick’s of Hollywood bag.

 

            “I know Valentines is supposed to be about hearts, chocolate and flowers but…” he gestured with the Fredrick’s bag.

 

            She laughed. “You forgot one thing that Valentines is supposed to be about.”

 

            A look of pure terror came over Angel’s face. She reached out and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, tugging him inside the apartment.

 

            “Fireworks.”