I really thought that he'd forgotten...well, actually, I assumed he didn't know. I hadn't celebrated a birthday since I left Sunnydale, and the girls all knew not to make a big deal out of it. They'd call or send cards, but no parties, no flowers, no balloons - it was a thing.

So, after the whole Sunnydale return experience and all that followed, I didn't really think much about it, you know?

It was a regular day on tour. I got up in the afternoon and left Spike in the bed - hell, he'd earned it. I worked out with Ace and we headed out to the venue. There was the usual paperwork and bullshit - problems to solve, people to yell at...manager's work is never done. The girls and Giles called and chorused on the phone - their singing was subpar in my professional opinion, but I didn't tell them that. Annie brought me a grande latte and a double chocolate doughnut, just like she does every birthday. There's a reason she's so damn indispensable.

Spike showed up on time for soundcheck, and he was in a decent mood - didn't snarl at too may people and greeted me with a kiss that made my toes curl up. Annie talked him into wearing jeans onstage instead of the leathers - she knows what that paper-thin denim does to my blood pressure. Have I mentioned that I love her? I do. He wore a plain black teeshirt and docs, and left his hair a little curly and even consented to eyeliner. I was happy.

The show was a late one, and I knew he wouldn't come off the stage until well past one in the morning. That made the surprise all the sweeter when he came backstage at 11:59 and pushed me up against the wall and kissed me breathless for fifty-nine seconds. In that last second, he smiled at me and said, "I love you" for the first time. Then he went back to the stage. Took me two songs to get my mouth closed again. Best. Birthday. Ever.