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Authors Chapter Notes:
This is PG13 at the start, but I promise there will be a goodly amount of NC17 spuffiness later on :)


Chapter One

Rome. City of romance, of emperors, of beauty. The city where victors marched triumphantly through the streets being cheered by the crowds, conquering heroes returning. The two vampires both sighed heavily as they made their way back to the hotel, resignation and disappointment predominating their thoughts. Angel's shoulders were hunched, his almost perpetual pouting frown firmly in place, Spike noticed. His own hands were clenched in his pockets, fingernails drawing just a little blood. A little physical pain to accompany the heartbreak of discovering he'd been right all along.

"How about raiding the mini bar?" Angel's sullen voice cut through the mist of despair swamping Spike's mind.

The blonde looked up, held Angel's gaze. "Maybe when we get back to the office, mate. Think I'm just gonna go for a walk and a smoke, you know?" Angel sighed again and Spike was forced to suppress a growl of irritation.

"Yeah, I get you. Don't...don't stay out too late, okay, William?" Spike was surprised to hear the concern in his companion's voice, and his eyebrow lifted, a smirk curling his lips.

"Don't fret, Peaches. I'll be back before dawn to tuck you in!"

Annoyance clouded Angel's swarthy features and Spike grinned to himself for the merest of moments before heading out into to night.

Wandering through the near deserted streets, Spike allowed himself to fall headlong into the abyss of self pity. Angel was such an idiot. Buffy's running around with the Immortal was no damned slight to the self torturing vampire, far from it. Nope, the Slayer was simply trying to replace her first lover every time she hooked up with another of the legion of the undead, and Spike had always known it. He'd fooled himself for a while, held out hope that she would see him for just...him, Spike, William the Bloody, the one who loved her for everything she was and could be, not an ideal, a goddess on a pedestal. He'd even cherished her last words to him, wrapped them around him as a ghost of her, wanting to believe it was true even when he denied it to her face. Dracula, Spike and now the Immortal. No wonder it had been so hard to get that bloody demon head - the Immortal must on some level realise that he might have Buffy, but some part of the Slayer would always want Angel, would always be trying to recapture the magic she'd found with his grandsire. And that would rankle. Spike grinned in spite of himself - well, in some small way it was a comfort to know that the Immortal didn't always get quite what he wanted.

The waves of misery poured over him once again soon enough, however. There was no satisfaction for him knowing he'd been nothing more than a substitute for the walking sulk that was his grandsire, even if a small part of him knew that wasn't strictly true. Dawn had never liked Angel, never been friends and hung out with Angel like she did with Spike. Dawn had become like his sister over the years and that was something he'd have that was all his own. Time spent with Dawn.

Spike stopped, half smoked cigarette dropping to the cobbles. How stupid was he? The sulk and he had legged it all this way just because of Buffy, and here Spike had never even asked Andrew about the Bit! Well there was a way to fix that at least, he decided, breaking into a run.

He knew Andrew had gone out, they'd seen him leave, so he knew there might not be anyone in the apartment. He deliberately squashed the thought that the Immortal and Buffy might be in there with the lights out, not really wanting to contemplate his gorgeous girl in the arms of that smug, pompous, overbearing bastard. He concentrated hard, trying to sense whether anyone was home, unable to stop himself. The compulsion to see her was overwhelming, just one more glimpse, maybe just to watch her face while she slept. His fists clenched again in frustration: he could feel himself taking on more and more of Angel's woebegone habits. He sensed someone, alone in the third floor apartment and decided to take his chances, circling round to the back of the building to find a way up.

Dawn woke suddenly, unsure what had interrupted her dreams of being adored by the latest boy band, but reached under her pillow for the long dagger she kept there. She'd been training with Buffy again even though they were under the Immortal's protection in Rome, because you just never knew what was coming next. She reached out with her senses, trying to find out what had disturbed her rest and knew there was someone in her room.

"Buffy?" She whispered, hoping her sister was just watching over her. A low chuckle she'd never thought to hear again rewarded her.

"Not quite, pet."

Dawn's heart was in her mouth. Spike was dead. She knew he was, Buffy had told her everything that happened, and when the Hellmouth collapsed dragging Sunnydale with it, she knew he'd been buried along with everything else she'd once held dear. Keeping a firm grip on the knife in her hand, she cleared her throat.

"Spike? Are..are you a ghost? Have the Powers sent you? Oh my god, you're the First again, aren't you?" Dawn's voice and breathing elevated to dangerous levels as her mind raced. The First, in Rome, in her room. And Buffy was out somewhere and she was all on her own....The light suddenly came on and she was startled, blinking, forced to raise an arm to shield her eyes. In the next second the knife dropped to the floor and she threw herself across the room, engulfing the solemn looking vampire in a huge bear hug.

Spike tried to brace himself as he caught the girl, who'd certainly grown even taller since he'd seen her last. His arms went to her shoulders and patted them awkwardly. He heard Dawn's frantically beating heart and her mumbled words, "Ohmigod it's you it's really you!" His arms curved round her a little more and he gingerly returned the hug, feeling shudders rippling through her slight frame.

"You bastard!" He was unprepared for the slap that connected with his cheekbone, rocking his head back. Dawn had jumped back from him, tears streaming down her face, a look of anguish filling her eyes.

"Ow! Bloody hell, what's that for?" He shouted, lifting his hand to his bruised jaw. He noticed that Dawn was packing quite a punch these days.

"Where have you been? I thought you were dead! I've spent months crying about you, missing you, knowing I didn't get to say goodbye! And now you just turn up?"

"Calm down, Bit, it's a long story. And yeah, I was dead...for a while. Listen, just sit down and I can tell you, right?"

"How do I know it's you, huh? You could just be some trick..." Dawn squeaked as Spike's hand covered her mouth. His skin was cool to the touch as it always had been, and he smelled of leather, nicotine and just, well, Spike. She reached up and poked him in the ribs with one finger, causing him to twitch and shy away. Hmm. Still ticklish in the same spot then.

"Oi! That's not fair!" He exclaimed, and began tickling her until she was breathless and hoarse from shrieking.

"Okay, okay!" She panted. "I believe it's you! But you still haven't answered my question about where you've been," she pointed out, eyes narrowing.

Spike sat back and lounged on the end of her bed. "Not sure this is really a good bedtime story, but you did ask for it."

When he got to the part about the insane Slayer in LA, he glossed over his personal torment by the deranged bint, and just mentioned how he and Angel had found the girl and were going to look after her when Andrew had turned up.

"What do you mean, Andrew turned up?" Dawn asked him sharply.

"Just that, Bit. Andrew turned up with a squad of slayerettes just as Angel and I had found the girl at the docks, and he gave us a tongue lashing and took her away," Spike explained, wondering what he'd said wrong. Dawn threw her pillow across the room as she got up, shouting.

"I don't believe that guy!" She spun round, trapping his blue eyes in a steely gaze. "He's known all this time that you were alive and didn't say one word! Not one word to me or to" she broke off. "I am so gonna kick his ass," she muttered.

Spike looked down, unsure how to take that bit of news. He'd figured Andrew would have reported everything to the Slayer, filled in all the little details, regardless of the little chat they’d had. But here was the nibblet saying that she didn't know, that Buffy didn't know....He shook his head. There was no way Buffy wouldn't know he was alive. The Immortal knew, and he'd....Oh no, the Immortal wouldn't say one word, would he? That would give the Slayer options, something else to think about, maybe?

Dawn sat down closer to Spike and reached her hand out to rest on his arm.

"We're going to have to tell Buffy, Spike. I just, I mean....I'm not sure how she's going to take it."




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