... She suffered, as Immortals sometimes do;

But pangs more lasting far, 'that' Lover knew

Who first, weighed down by scorn, in some lone bower

Did press this semblance of unpitied smart

Into the service of his constant heart...

William Wordsworth

"Love Lies Bleeding"

Part I

The vamp holding Dawn growled, "I told you, Ernie, go find your own dinner."

"I tried," Ernie whined. "But no one’s around. This graveyard is dead."

"Then maybe you should think about hunting somewhere other than a graveyard."

Ernie demanded petulantly: "Why? You found something. You’re just too selfish to share."

With a look of exasperation the first vamp let go of Dawn and shoved Ernie into the side of a crypt causing a long, jagged crack to appear in the wall. Dawn didn’t wait to see who won the fight. She ran.

She almost made it out of the cemetery before tripping. Grabbing at something half hidden in the darkness, she tried to break her fall, but even as Dawn made contact with something hard and bumpy, her handhold broke free sending her tumbling into the grass.

Damp and cold as early evening mist rose around her, Dawn glanced up to see an angel standing over her. At least, it looked like an angel, but it was only a statue - and a damaged one at that. Opening her hand, Dawn saw a piece of the angel’s wing lying in her palm. It had broken in her fall.

Then she heard something. Looking anxiously over her shoulder, she saw the vampires gaining on her. Guess they didn’t have much to fight about after she ran away. In a panic Dawn prayed that Buffy would show up and save her, which showed how scared she was because Dawn never, ever prayed for Buffy to show up.

Instinct told her to hide quickly, and hide NOW. Dawn listened. Climbing to her feet, she ran again, making a hard ninety-degree turn before ducking behind a large granite tombstone. Crouched in the shadows, making herself the smallest ball of humanity that she possibly could, Dawn covered her head with her hands and closed her eyes.

"Hey, Ernie, where’d she go?" the first vamp called into the darkness.

Ernie answered: "That way... I think."

"If you find her, I’ll share."

"If I find her, she’s mine. You don’t share. I don’t share."

Dawn waited. How long before they found her? Minutes? Seconds?

"Hey, Ernie!" The vamp’s voice was startlingly loud in the stillness of the night. The guy was definitely not subtle. "Where’d YOU go? Damn it. I found her first!"

He sounded close, too close. Dawn started to wonder if it hurt to be bled dry. It couldn’t be pleasant, someone sucking on your throat so hard that they actually removed most of your blood. It had to hurt… and leave a hickey.

Wait a minute. Why hadn’t he found her by now? He had been awfully close. Then she noticed it was quiet. Really quiet. Scary quiet.

Dawn lifted her head, but ducked again when she heard footsteps. They were kind of muffled because of the grass. Okay, so maybe she didn’t exactly hear footsteps, but Dawn thought she heard someone moving. Let it be Buffy, she silently pleaded. Oh please, please, please let it be Buffy.

Then she became aware of someone standing over her. Dawn opened first one eye then the other. She saw black boots. Well, okay, Buffy owned black boots... although these were kind of bulky masculine looking boots. Then again, maybe Buffy was making some kind of ‘I’m the Slayer, and I’m here to kick butt’ fashion statement. But as Dawn’s gaze rose there was no doubting that it was a decidedly masculine figure standing in front of her. Nix the "Buffy making a butchy fashion statement" theory.

Craning her neck to look upward, Dawn gazed into a pair of dark, difficult to read eyes beneath equally dark brows. All she could do was breathe the name "Spike".

He crossed his arms. "Are you goin’ t’ sit there shiverin’?"

"I’m not shivering, I..." Dawn noticed that she was rubbing her arms. "Okay, I’m shivering."

"Lucky you’re not dead," he snapped. "What in the bloody he-" Spike stopped, abruptly cutting off the word ‘hell’ in mid breath. Dawn wondered why adults did that. It wasn’t like she didn’t know what he was about to say, and as words went ‘hell’ wasn’t all that bad. He could have been saying the ‘f’ word.

Spike started again. "What are you doin’ in the bloody cemetery after soddin’ 10pm?"

"Actually, it’s not all that bloody around here."

"No thanks t’ you. A few more minutes and lovely bits of red stuff - which would have come from you - would be splattered all over the place. Now, get up."

Dawn stood and dusted off her jeans.

"Where’s the Slayer?" he asked gruffly.

She shrugged. "Buffy’s not around."

Spike’s dark brows drew down sharply over his eyes creasing his forehead in a pronounced way that made him look worried or angry or just plain evil, Dawn wasn’t sure which.

"What the bloody hell do you mean the Slayer’s not around? Does she allow her defenseless li’l sister to wander around vampire-infested graveyards after dark? Of all the bloody stupid…" He started to pace and mutter, as if there was more energy in his body than he could possibly contain. "And who would she blame when someone dragged your bloodless corpse home? Me! That’s who she’d blame."

"Why would she blame you?"

"How the hell am I supposed t’ know? But, mark my words, somehow, someway, I’d be blamed."

"I know what you’re talking about," Dawn sympathized. "Like when Buffy lost her lip gloss, did she ever think: ‘Hey, I must have left that over at the Willow’s or at the Magic Shop?’ No. Somehow it was my fault. Like I would even want her lipstick..." Dawn’s voice trailed off as she noticed Spike glaring at her.

He harrumphed. "As I was saying, if your pre-pubescent body was bled dry, the Slayer would want my hide, and I have enough problems what with the Slayer mad enough t’ stake me on sight."

"Why would Buffy want to stake you? What did you do?"

"Why is it always ‘what did Spike do?’ Why couldn’t it be someone else? Why not Mr. Oh-So-Perfect Riley Finn?" Spike stomped around the graveyard. "You want t’know what I did? I’ll tell you what I did. Nothin’, that’s what. Not a single, bloody thing. I was doin’ ‘er a favor. I was helping ‘er. I was..." He stopped dead still, picked his hands up and gazed at Dawn in a bewildered, puppy-like manner. When Dawn didn’t say anything, Spike glared menacingly. When she still didn’t say anything, he shrugged and started pacing again. "Alright, so maybe I did something that made her a bit angry - not that she SHOULD be angry - just that she might have misinterpreted my motives."

"Like what?"

"Like nothin’ that’s what. Like none of your business that’s what." He cut off his explanations and straightened his long leather coat. "Alright, then. Pick up the pace. We’ve got t’take you home."

Dawn blinked. "You’re walking me home?"

"Can’t leave you ‘ere with the vampires. They aren’t all nice ones like me." He grinned. He was kind of scary when he grinned.

"ARE you a nice vampire?" she asked.

"God, no. Perish the thought. I’m not the least bit nice. But unlike the two vamps ‘ere, I’m not plannin’ t’ eat you for dinner. I was about t’ go to the Bronze for beer and chicken wings. Now, come on. You’re slowin’ me down."

"Um... sure." Dawn fell in step beside him. "Wait!" She ran back to her hiding place behind the gravestone and picked up the broken piece of the statue. Walking over to the broken angel, she tried to fit the piece of wing back into place.

"Don’t worry about it," Spike said quietly as he emerged from the darkness. "It’s a lost cause."

"If I could turn it just a little bit in this direction…"

He reached up and took the shattered piece of angel’s wing in his hand. "It’s been my experience that once something is broken, it stays broken." After pocketing the fragment, Spike gestured toward the pathway. "Let’s go."

"Broken things CAN be fixed, you know," Dawn protested. "You’re probably only saying that because you pre-date Superglue."

Spike laughed. "Right. I’ve got problems ‘cause I’m older than superglue. Sure."

They walked in silence. Dawn wasn’t sure why Spike was quiet. He seemed to be the talkative type, but she was quiet because she was still sort weirded out by how good his laughter had sounded. It was warm and... Well, wasn’t it kind of unexpected that a vampire would laugh? Somehow she’d always thought that vampires were either plain evil or all brooding and gloomy like Angel. But Spike? Spike was different.

Dawn knew a little about him. She’d never spoken with him, but she’d heard things. Things like how he’d once unleashed a monster called ‘The Judge’ who would destroy anything that had the tiniest hint of humanity. And how he’d once found the Gem of Amara that gave him eternal life and let him go outside in daylight... only Buffy had taken it from him.

Oh, and Spike had once helped save the world.

Her mother had told her that one. Mom said Spike had shown up on their doorstep, and she had invited him in for hot chocolate. Imagine that. Mom could be so incredibly brave sometimes. Anyway, once Spike came inside and had his hot chocolate, he had offered to help Buffy save the world.

Now, when most people talked about "saving the world" it was all hype, like someone bragging, "I’m the Slayer. I’m the chosen one, and I’m going to save the world." But that time Spike and Buffy had saved the world. Of course Buffy claimed that SHE was the one who did the saving. But then Buffy would say that wouldn’t she?

Anyway, saving the world wasn’t the cool part. It was the important part, but it wasn’t the cool part. The cool part was that Spike had done it all for the woman he loved, Dora or Dulcinea or something like that. Wasn’t that sweet? Imagine a guy actually saving the world for YOU. How cool would that be? You’d have to love him forever after that wouldn’t you?

Dawn frowned and wondered what had ever happened to Dulcinea. She thought about asking Spike, but his brow was furrowed again, making him look grouchy. His shoulders were hunched and his hands were stuffed into the pockets of his long leather coat, and his face was almost completely lost in the shadows except for the brief moments when they passed beneath streetlights.

As Dawn studied Spike she tried to see the guy who could ‘save the world’ or even the ‘interfering, evil vampire’ that Buffy and Riley claimed he was. Gazing at Spike, Dawn wasn’t sure she saw him as either of those guys. Actually, he looked a lot like Sting had looked in that ‘Behind the Music’ special on VH1 - Sting when he sang for The Police, not Sting in the Jaguar commercial. Sure Spike’s scowl was dark and kind of menacing but there also seemed to be a smile playing around the corners of his mouth as if he knew a joke that very few people did and wouldn’t it be great if you shared it too?

Spike didn’t look evil, not at the moment anyway.

Of course Buffy said not to be fooled. Spike WAS evil, and he’d only helped save the world because he was trying to delay his trip to H-E-double hockey sticks. And the only reason he wasn’t eating people for dinner was because Riley’s bosses at the Initiative had put a chip in Spike’s brain making it impossible for him to hurt people. Now Spike could only hurt demons... like Buffy hurt demons.

Dawn stopped walking and looked at Spike in surprise. "You staked those vamps didn’t you?"

He glanced at her and the overhead lights brought one half of his face into stark relief while the other half remained in darkness. "What vamps? The gits in the graveyard?"

"The vamps trying to kill me. Those vamps. You staked them."

Spike shrugged and just kept walking.

Dawn had to say it. "You saved my life."

Spike didn’t say anything, so Dawn ran after him, grabbing his arm and turning him around. "You saved my life," she said breathlessly. "You rescued me."

"Did not."

"Did too."

He frowned. "Look, they were makin’ a bloody awful racket in the middle of the graveyard during the best part of E.R. Then they broke the wall of my crypt which, by the way, scattered candles all over the floor settin’ my bed sheets on fire. Vampires don’t like fire you know. And those sheets were damn expensive. Do you know how difficult it is t’ ste-" He stopped. "Just stop sayin’ I saved you. It’ll ruin my reputation."

Spike began restlessly moving again, leaving the small circle of light and blending seamlessly with the night. Then suddenly he came back to the light. He asked excitedly: "The Slayer would like it if I saved you, wouldn’t she? I mean. You can’t hold a petty grudge against a fella who saved your sister’s life." He smiled again, and this time Dawn wasn’t surprised by it. Actually, his smile looked pretty good, even better when he began to grin. "Yeah. Tell the Slayer I saved you."

"But you did," Dawn said quietly though she had the funny feeling she was talking to herself. Spike was once again lost somewhere the shadows. Then she saw a flash of platinum blonde hair in the moonlight. "Hey!" Dawn called. "Wait for me. There are vampires out here."

Minutes later they stood in her front yard. Spike leaned against the big oak tree and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. When he lit one, Dawn scolded: "Those things will kill you."

He looked up and there was amusement in his eyes.

"Oh, right," she belatedly realized. "You’re already dead." Only Spike didn’t seem dead... or undead as the vampire case may be. He seemed to overflow with life. Dawn glanced at the door then back at him. "You want to come inside?"

He dropped his cigarette and crushed it beneath the heel of his boot. "Didn’t you learn your lesson about invitin’ vampires into the house, Nibblet?"

"Don’t bring up that Harmony thing. That was an accident. I just forgot for a moment-but only for a moment-that a vampire can’t enter your house unless invited. I’m no dummy. I know the rules. But the rules don’t apply to you."

"Why thank you."

"You’ve already been invited to the house."

Something flickered in his dark gaze. "Know that do you?"

"Well, yeah. Mom told me."

He circled Dawn. "No, I mean that I’m still ‘invited’ into the house. I thought the Slayer had forgotten."

Dawn blinked. "Oh, you mean that spell that Willow did to keep Harmony and Dracula from coming back. Buffy didn’t forget about you. It’s just there’s nothing she can do about you."

Spike looked funny, like he wanted to know something but wouldn’t let himself ask.

"You want to know why Buffy can’t do anything," Dawn realized. "It’s because Buffy wasn’t the one who invited you in. Mom did, and SHE said she didn’t see a reason to de-invite you. You couldn’t hurt us even if you wanted to, and she didn’t think you did... want to, that is."

Spike looked a little disappointed, perhaps even sad. Dawn wondered why, then decided it must be tough going from powerful and intimidating to being told you’re harmless. Somehow Dawn didn’t think Spike liked being called harmless.

Then she noticed something else. Blue. His eyes weren’t dark at all but a clear, fathomless blue. Sky blue... only not the sky of the day but of the night, a rich shade of indigo only seen when the moon was full and shining brightly across a field of snow or a stretch of sand.

Deciding to cheer Spike up, Dawn offered: "Why don’t you come inside and have cocoa or something?"

"Dawn, get inside the house!" Buffy yelled from the doorway.

"Slayer..." Spike said under his breath. Dawn glanced at him. She’d heard what he said, but she couldn’t figure out the way he said it. Was he glad to see Buffy or mad about it?

"Inside, Dawn. Now!" Buffy yelled again.

Dawn protested, "But…"

"No buts. In."

Dawn shifted on the balls of her feet. Buffy sounded really mad which meant she probably should go inside, but curiosity was killing her. Buffy stormed into the yard. Why WAS Buffy so angry? Dawn wondered. It wasn’t like Spike could hurt her.

Buffy shot Dawn a look that DID look evil, so instead of protesting Dawn slunk into the house. She also went straight to the window and raised it an inch so that she could hear what Spike and Buffy were saying.

There was a sound followed by a grunt that made Dawn think Buffy had slammed Spike into the oak tree. But that couldn’t be right because Spike laughed.

"What are you doing with Dawn?" Buffy demanded.

"Who said I was doin’ anythin’ with ‘er?" he asked.

"The two of you were standing in the yard and she was inviting you in for hot chocolate! What did you do to her?"

"What? Do you think I hypnotized ‘er or somethin’? That’s Drac’s game. I never… Well okay. Maybe I did try once, but that was fifty years ago and..."

Pushing Buffy away he turned around and straightened his coat. "And did you ever think that perhaps your sister was bein’ hospitable? Not everyone is a bottomless well of homicidal rage like you…"

"And you," Buffy snapped.

"Well, yeah. Still, nothing t’ be so worked up about. The little one is now home, safe and sound and ready for you tuck ‘er into bed with her stuffed animals and ‘N Sync posters."

"How do you know she has stuffed animals and ‘N Sync posters? Have you been sneaking into the house again?"

Spike shook his head but it didn’t look like a denial. It looked like disbelief. "You’re losin’ it Slayer. Goin’ round the bend. She’s FOURTEEN YEARS OLD. It’s not like it takes a bloody genius."

"That’s good. Because one isn’t available."

He jerked back, retreating several feet away from her, balanced in the almost dancing pose of a boxer. "That’s it. I’m leavin’."

"Don’t let me stop you."

But before he could leave the yard, Buffy grabbed him and swung him around. Dawn thought Buffy might have even thrown a punch that Spike deftly dodged. He laughed as he danced out of her reach.

"What did you mean by Dawn’s home now?’" Buffy demanded.

"It’s ten thirty, Slayer. Do you know where your sister is?"

Dawn ducked below the window as Buffy glanced toward the house.

Spike amended. "I meant do you know where your sister WAS?"

There was a pause. Buffy was probably glaring at him.

Spike said softly: "She was in the graveyard."

"Snitch," Dawn muttered.

"I don’t believe you," Buffy snapped. "Dawn knows better than that."

"Knowin’ and doin’ aren’t always the same thing, Slayer."

"And I’m supposed to believe you found her and walked her home to protect her?"

He laughed again. "Hardly. I was just out lookin’ for demons in the mood for a brawl, and she sorta tagged along. Thought I’d drop by and ditch her."

"Liar," Dawn said under her breath, then felt a soft touch on her shoulder. She looked up to see her mother looking at her disapprovingly.

"It’s not nice to eavesdrop," her mother scolded.

"I-Well, I had to listen. Buffy is beating up Spike when she shouldn’t be. He really did just walk me home to protect me." She gazed at her mother. "He saved my life."

Her mother blinked. "What do you mean? How did he save your life?"

The front door slammed. Buffy stormed into the living room. "Where’s my stake? I’m going to do it this time. I’m going to take Spike out."

"Now, Buffy," their mother said soothingly.

"I’m so sick of seeing him, of listening to him, of his hearing his oh-so-annoying ‘I’m so insightful’ comments. He gets off on it, you know. He laughs at me, at knowing the stuff going on behind my back. If I wanted to know what was going on behind my back I’d look. I’d... I’d... I’m gonna kill him. Get it over once and for all."

"Now, Buffy, you can’t kill him."

"Why not? He’s a vampire. I’m a vampire slayer."

"You can’t slay him because your sister says he saved her life..."