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He knows not the pain I see in his eyes, which appears every time he enters where she used to live. He knows not the haunted look he gets when someone suggests patrolling the cemetery where her body lies. He knows not the secret looks that her sister gives him when he's not looking. He knows not all these things, but I do. I see it all, and in my own way, I try to make it more bearable for him.

I know that he's on his way over to the house tonight. His timing is like clockwork - he always shows up at the same time every night. Even on the nights he's not needed, he arrives to "check on the Nibblet." I've never shared this with Willow or any of the other Scoobies, but I find his consistency very comforting.

Perhaps I can sense his great sadness and feelings of inadequacy because I've always lived in the shadows myself. When I used to live with my father after my mother died, I felt safer there. No one could damage my heart too badly if I kept my eyes downward and followed the monotonous routine of daily chores. However, I secretly harbored my mother's wishes for me and bided my time until I could carry them out.

Upon her deathbed, my mother whispered into my ear, "Go to college, my dear one. Leave this place and live the life I wished I had. Be brave and find love." Those words became my mantra throughout high school. No one in my family knew of my applications to schools out west or the scholarships I had quietly earned. And the day after high school graduation, I pocketed my savings, went to the bus station, paid cash for a ticket and made my way to California.

Sunnydale had been a revelation. I could sense great mystical energy emanating throughout the entire town. At that time, I had never heard of a Hellmouth and had believed I was among my own kind when I spotted half-bred demons. I had worked odd jobs that summer and applied for a federal school loan to finish covering my first year's tuition.

I still love Sunnydale University; even though a great many things have happened between the time I first started classes until now. I remember being amazed that a Wicca group actually met out in the open in the student union. Even though I could tell by their auras the other girls in the group didn't possess much in the way of pure magical power, I enjoyed their company all the same. Well, none of them had power, until I met the one who would change my life forever, my Willow. Her aura intrigued me - with its mixture of greens and reds. She was beautiful and I cowered in her presence.

But that was then.

So much has happened since that fateful meeting with Willow. I remember when I first met Spike; the vampire tied to a chair in Mr. Giles' apartment had frightened me. But later, despite his snarkiness, he actually helped me when my family came to town attempting to take me back home.

Silly me had cast that dangerous spell that had almost gotten all my friends killed. It never dawned on me that they could see me and that I couldn't see the demons, who were attacking them; I just had seen that they were in trouble and cast the reversal spell as quickly as I could. The look of disbelief in Willow's eyes - I'll never forget that look, and I never want to see that again.

For some reason, Spike had been at the Magic Box during this. I'm still unclear as to why, but knowing him back then, he probably wanted to see the death of the Slayer. He always used to claim he wanted her death, but I remember that his aura and his actions always went against these declarations. Whatever reason he'd originally possessed for being there, I'm forever thankful that he was. If it weren't for him, I probably would be back home, slaving away under the watchful eye of my father and brother, and still unaware of the lie I'd been living since birth.

Xander, Willow and Giles never give Spike credit for being smart. Well, from learning about some of his past 'plans' I can see why. Still, Spike was the one who almost successfully separated the Scoobies last year. His ability to read people and garner their truths and weaknesses is uncanny. While my father was proclaiming to everyone I cared about that I was a demon - that all the women in our family were demons, Spike surmised the truth.

Without preamble, Spike had walked up to me and hit me square in the nose. His chip fired and the truth of my humanity was discovered. At first, the shock of being hit and the pain in my nose had kept me from seeing Spike holding his head. I'll be forever grateful for that pop on the nose, and I later privately thanked him for it.

Much has happened between then and now. Two deaths in the same year have shaken the foundation of the Scoobies. First Joyce's sudden, quiet death broke all of our hearts. Even though I had known Joyce the least, I appreciated the way she adopted all of us. She started filling in that empty space that had been vacant since my mother's death. I'd not shared anything about my mother's death with anyone until then - and only with Buffy. I've yet to really tell Willow everything that happened back then; she has her own mother issues.

I know that Spike took Joyce's death harder than anyone knew. I remember Willow telling me how Xander yelled at him outside this house when Spike brought flowers. Willow told me no card had been attached. She didn't understand it, but I did. Spike didn't want to make Buffy mad at his gesture; it wasn't an attempt to get into her good graces anyway. He just wanted to make a simple tribute to the one lady who listened to his sorrows and laughed at some of his jokes.

Willow couldn't understand why he had shown up or how he had found out. She had been worried that he was still stalking Buffy. But I asked her how she would feel if no one had told her about Joyce's death. She got silent after that. I had felt terrible myself for not thinking of Spike at the hospital.

Dawn once told me of the time that Spike had returned to Sunnydale, pre-chip, lamenting the loss of Drusilla to some chaos demon. Since the last time Spike had been to the house he had been allied with Buffy, Joyce had welcomed him into her home, sat with him at the island and made him his special hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows. Why couldn't anyone else see that he would have never harmed Joyce in any way after that?

Then Buffy died, and none of us have completely recovered. In addition to her death, I'm still reeling from all the lost moments I can never regain. After having my sanity ripped from me by Glory, I'm still trying to make my life as normal again as I can. I remember Buffy's death, because minutes before, Willow reversed Glory's mind drain giving me back… well, me. Regardless of the fact that I had no idea where I was, what I was doing there, and why I was in my pajamas and a wrap around sweater, I immediately helped Willow focus her power into other spells. I watched helplessly as Buffy's small frame plummeted from the top of the weirdly constructed tower to land powerfully on a pile of beams like a rag doll.

I had held onto Willow as she started to cry. I remember feeling the sun's warmth begin to hit the back of my neck and the smell of burnt flesh. The smell caused me to glancing back to see a bloody and broken Spike crying into his hands despite the dawning of the sun, and thinking, 'we've got to get him inside.' Then I remember Dawn in a poorly fitted, brown dress emerge from the tower's stairs, informing us all of Buffy's last words.

The appearance of Dawn seemed to jolt Spike out of his grief, and I watched as he stumbled his way to her. Dawn had taken his arm and helped lead him to shelter. While I was taking care of Willow, and Xander was taking care of Anya, Giles had started to pick up Buffy's body. Suddenly, with smoke rising from his exposed skin, Spike had taken her body from Giles and had rushed her back to Dawn.

I recall that at the time I'd viewed Spike's tears as the reaction of one who'd lost a loved one. Now, I know I was correct, but for a different reason. Now, I believe that Spike wept for the loss of another family member - that in spite of himself, he'd begun thinking of the Summers clan as his family. I sometimes wonder if he cried like that when he heard about Joyce. He probably did - she'd been the mother figure for so long.

*****

I hear the kitchen door open behind me as I prepare some sandwiches for patrol later tonight. Without looking over my shoulder, I know that it's Spike. He knows not how I've been attuned to his presence, and neither do I, but I like that I know it's him.

"Hi Spike," I welcome him. I turn to observe his face. His eyes remain sad, but I can see he's healing somewhat.

"'lo, Tara," Spike says as he starts to remove his duster.

"Have you eaten?" I ask, like I always do. It has become our routine. He knows not how I make sure plenty of blood stays stocked in the refrigerator, nor how I always pick up an extra bag of tiny marshmallows when I shop for groceries. If he notices either of those things, he hasn't said a word to me - not that I mind, it's just his way.

"Earlier, but not in a while," he responds. Perhaps he has noticed, because he never eats before he comes to the house. Like every night, Spike goes to the refrigerator, gets a packet of blood, retrieves his mug from the dish drainer, opens up the packet, empties the blood into the mug, pops it into the microwave, sets the timer and pushes start. And like always, as soon as the microwave dings and he takes out his mug, I have the box of Wheetabix ready for him with a spoon.

"Tell the Watcher and the others that I've already covered Restfield and the old high school," he says before he takes his first gulp. Quickly finishing his snack, Spike rinses out the mug and places it back in the drainer.

Tonight Spike has Dawn sitting duty, because I'm meeting Willow and the others at the Magic Box in a bit before getting together with Giles for patrol. Spike doesn't know that Xander, Anya, Willow and I are meeting a whole hour before Giles will be there. Neither does Giles. I hate keeping both Spike and Giles in the dark about Willow's plan, but Xander and Willow both are adamant that Spike can't know. Xander's not too sure about keeping the secret from Giles, but since Willow insists, he's going along with it.

Frankly, I've been having second thoughts about what we have in mind, but I trust Willow. Still, a part of me is concerned that she is holding something back from me as well. Sometimes I've caught Spike looking at me with his head cocked slightly to the side, his lips quirked in a half-smile, and I fear that he knows I've been keeping a secret. He can read me so well; it's scary. Yet, he never says a word to me about it.

"Tara? You okay?" Spike asks, breaking me out of my train of thought. I realize I've missed something he has said to me.

"I'm sorry. Just thinking about what all I have to do to get ready for tonight's patrol," I lie. I see his eyebrow arch in that incredulous expression he does so well, but something in my face must tell him to let it go and he does.

"As I was asking, pet; are you lot taking the bot with you? Don't want it yammering about while me and the Nib watch the telly."

"Oh, yes. I think Willow wants to try a new tactic with it tonight." The relief on his face is palpable. He doesn't like the bot around him; and really for the most part, neither does Dawn - although sometimes I've caught her sneaking into Buffy's room to sleep beside the bot. Both Xander and Willow don't understand what his problem is with the bot, since Spike had it made as his sex toy, but I think I do. He views it as a reminder of his failure to save Dawn and Buffy.

"Right then, going to see to the Nibblet," Spike unnecessarily tells me. I watch him leave the kitchen for a moment before I resume making the snacks for later, and continue to think about the vampire who's become my partner in Dawn duty.

Over the past two months, Spike and I have basically split the duties of taking care of Dawn. Giles seems to shy away from her presence. Perhaps he feels in some way guilty for Buffy's death, but that doesn't excuse his behavior. Xander and Anya have been busy living their lives and only when it seems convenient do they volunteer to take Dawn to the movies or to the mall. I hate to say this, but even Willow, who lives here, doesn't give Dawn the attention she craves. Will has been too preoccupied with the plan to really make time for Buffy's sister.

Sometimes it galls me to even think of the possible reasons the rest of the gang act this way toward her. Perhaps it's because to them, Dawn's still only a key. The monks that safeguarded the Key's existence from Glory all those centuries implanted our memories of her, and perhaps deep down, they blame her for Buffy's death. Willow let it slip one night that Giles had told Buffy that to stop Glory, she had to kill Dawn, and that Buffy had refused to entertain that idea.

While I miss Buffy, I don't blame Dawn for anything that happened - not even the mind drain. Dawn was an innocent in all of that. Buffy understood that, and I believe Spike does too. So, basically it has been left up to Spike and me to care for the rebellious teenager.

Spike knows not how I've noticed not only how he faithfully watches over Dawn, but also how he protects the rest of the gang as well. A few weeks ago, Dawn disclosed a secret. She told me that she had asked Spike why he kept coming over and why he didn't leave Sunnydale now. She said that Spike told her, "I'd made a promise to a lady," which was the same thing he'd told Doc on the tower. I asked her if Spike explained it more to her, but she said no.

Spike knows not that I decoded his promise, and that I understand his actions - maybe better than he does himself. I realize that the "lady" is Buffy; and sometime before Spike climbed that tower in an attempt to save Dawn, he'd made a promise to her. It had to have been regarding protecting Dawn; nothing else would make much sense. I believe that he feels he failed in that promise when Doc unexpectedly caused him to fall off the tower, making Buffy have to go to finish the job.

Spike knows not that I've seen him sitting in front of Buffy's marker, apologizing. I've never been able to hear what he says, because in order to keep him from knowing I'm there, I maintain a respectful distance. I've only caught him doing this a few times, as I'm cutting through that part of the cemetery during patrol. Fortunately, none of the others have been with me, because I don't know what their reaction would have been. Probably not good.

If Willow or Xander ever caught him, I'm pretty sure that they would think he goes to her grave as some gesture of undying love or devotion. But, now knowing of the promise about Dawn and my belief that he'd adopted Buffy as his family, I think he feels he's let her down - that she's died in his place. So he goes to tell her he's following up on his promise and watching out for "the bit."

Spike knows not that I believe that he's consciously or unconsciously extended that promise to cover the rest of the gang. Smiling to myself, I can just hear the adamant protests that would spew forth if anyone ever suggested to him that he was protecting the Scoobies, especially Xander. No, he knows not that I understand that he does it because Buffy would have wanted him to.

Dawn stomps into the kitchen, followed by Spike. Dawn stops upon seeing me, and in a huff crosses her arms in front of her rapidly developing chest, and thrusts her hip to the side. "Why can't I go on patrol with you guys? You're taking the bot. Why can't I?"

Covering a snort at the defiant gesture, and seeing Spike's lethal glare at the back of Dawn's head, I stop wrapping up the sandwich I had been holding, and turn to her. "Dawn, we've already been over this. No patrol for you tonight. Willow's going to try something with the bot and it may not work. I'll feel better knowing you are safe at home." Silently, to myself, I think, "with Spike."

"No beasties are getting a taste of you Nib, and I've already glued your window," Spike starts to add as Dawn gasps in outrage. "I'm not your mother nor your sister; I'm not falling for any of your tricks."

I can see it pained them both when he referred to Joyce and Buffy, but neither one makes a big deal about it. I walk over to Dawn and drape one of my arms around her. "Dawnie, I've made you some lasagna. It's in the fridge. Just put it back in the stove and heat for say 10 to 15 minutes. Tomorrow we'll go to the mall to look at that nail polish you've been telling me about."

Spike smiles at me as I'm placating Dawn, and it hits me that I've become the "mom" and Spike's become the "dad." I return the friendly smile.

Just then the bot enters the kitchen, and I notice Spike bristle at its presence. Fortunately, this is one time the bot doesn't make any inappropriate remarks about Spike's sexy physique, it just asks where it should wait. I tell it to sit in the dining room, and it leaves. Spike visibly relaxes, so does Dawn. Dawn leaves to go to the den.

I check my watch and see it's time to go meet the others. Spike catches what I'm doing and says, "Glinda, have Willow reach me if some nasty decides you lot are easy prey. I have Clem on standby."

"Thanks Spike, but I'm sure you've probably cleared out all the meaner nasties earlier." I give him a knowing look, and he looks quickly to the floor. He knew not that I know he purposely patrols the worse areas so the rest of us have an easier time patrolling. Xander and Willow have seemed oblivious to the marked decrease in vamp activity in the areas we patrol, but I've been aware. Sometimes I think even Anya, when she comes out of her self-possessed cloud, realizes this too.

"Come on Spike, the Farscape marathon has started. Get your undead ass in here," Dawn hollers from the den.

"Looks like duty calls. See you later, Glinda," Spike says before he quickly joins Dawn.

I hang at the door between the kitchen and the den for a few moments watching the two of them arguing over whether D'Argo will ever forgive Chiana for sleeping with Jothee, and I shake my head.

As I walk out into the night on my way to the Magic Box, I think to myself that Spike knows not how much Dawn clings to his presence, and how much she needs him. He knows not how much the rest of us need him, even though they'd never give him the credit he deserves. He knows not just how much, deep down, he needs us too. And he'll never know that I consider him a friend.

The End

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