Tell Me Again

By Annaluna

Two

They quickly established a routine in New York. During the day, Dawn was free to roam the city. It took a bit of coaxing on Spike's part, but after a few days, she was out shopping, exploring museums, parks, and generally enjoying the life bustling around her. On the occasionally cloudy day, Spike stepped out with her, but he was generally sequestered in the two bedroom hotel room they shared. Night however, was a different story and often involved a rich dinner, a show, and then prowling the city like it was theirs: bars, clubs, whatever struck their fancy. In less than a week the color came back to Dawn's cheeks and she lost a bit of that soul-starved thinness he'd seen in London.

"Tell me again," She ask him at least twice a day. "Tell me again, how we met." And of course, he'd oblige her, recounting the events at the high school that night with painstaking clarity. Every time he'd finish the story her smile brightened just a bit more.

He'd wanted to kiss her, to hold her, that first day in London, but he wisely let her set the time table. He knew just being with her was hard enough on her. The little "tell me again" game was just one of the ways she'd test his memory, and she'd always bring one up whenever they got too close to something more. He wasn't sure if she was reassuring herself he was still all there, or reminding herself of the risk she'd be taking. He tried to remind himself every time she hugged him or took his arm while they walked. She flirted with him like a young girl freshly exploring her sexuality. Timid at times, daring at others, it was rapidly driving him mad, but there was nothing he could do. He screamed the reminder inside his head when she would come out of her bedroom, all dolled up for the night's adventure in some new getup she'd picked up that day. A whole month slipped by like that, and as agonizing as it was, he dreaded the day it might go away.

She opened the door from her bedroom and he was already outside waiting for her. She'd expected to taunt him with the new dark red leather pants she poured herself into. Paired with the black sheer top that always made his eyes dilate, she was thoroughly unprepared when he rose to greet her. Her mouth fell open at the site of her Spike, looking decidedly un-Spikelike in a dark blue pin-stripe suit. The cut of the suit was perfect and he carried himself with confidence she wouldn't have expected for someone wearing such a different look than they were used to.

"Wow, Spike. You look...wow." He smiled at her, just a hint of insecurity tucked in his bravado. It tugged at the things inside her she was trying to avoid.

"You like?"

"I very like, Spike." She gestured for him to turn around and he puffed up a bit, like a rooster fluffing his feathers. "What's the occasion?"

"A comment a lady made not too long ago about the lack of variety in my getup. Considering the attention she's been paying her own lately, I thought I might surprise her." He walked around the couch towards her as he spoke. "Surprised, pet?"

"Utterly." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

They walked to dinner, one of the many cafes that dotted the blocks between the hotel and the theatre district, in companionable silence. Spike's gesture weighed heavily on Dawn's mind. It was the sort of thing, she finally realized, that he would have done for Buffy, and that he certainly would have done for Drusilla.

Love. He loved her. He had to. But could she stand the pain later for what she'd gain now?

Consequences plagued her throughout dinner and the show. He was so good at making her forget for a little while how much she'd lost in the past couple of years. She would go for hours without worrying when he was going to start forgetting her and then suddenly the fear would come rushing back, as if she had the power to keep the inevitable at bay as long as she kept it on her mind. She thought about Andrew, and how betrayed she'd felt the morning she left him. She had never felt about Andrew the way she felt about Spike. Andrew was good to her, and she certainly loved him, but there was something about that first crush you had when you finally figured out what being a woman was all about. Sure, that crush went astray during that dark time before the First, but what was 6 months when she'd known him for almost ten years? Was it a good idea to actually act on all the impulses she'd been having lately? Loosing him would tear her apart. Was it worth it?

After the show was over, they started on the well-worn and indirect path back to the hotel. Down 7th through Times Square, across 42nd and then up the 20 blocks on 5th avenue to the hotel. She bought him a daisy from a street vendor, and tucked it into his lapel. When they got to Bryant Park Spike veered into the dark block-wide park. He shoved aside her apprehensions, reminding her she was with a champion demon hunter and that the Council could get them out of any legal issue trespassing might incur. She sighed and allowed herself to be led inside. In the center of the park, hidden just enough from the city that they felt completely alone, was a carousel. With exaggerated gentlemanly airs, he helped her climb onto a unicorn's back. She sat in the saddle and looked around at the lights and shadows that sparkled across the dark ride. He watched her, her eyes sparkling, and placed his hand on hers. She turned back to him, and shivered under his piercing gaze.

"Talk to me, Dawn."

"Stupid vampire senses." She scowled and crossed her arms, slouching away from him.

"Any bloke could tell you've been someplace else all night, not just a vamp. What's got you all shook up, love?" Her eyes filled with tears.

"It's not fair. You weren't supposed to find out." She beat her fists on the mane of the horse in frustration.

"Find out what?"

"About me! About the stupid memory thing! This wasn't supposed to happen!" She waved her arms. "I told them specifically not to tell anyone who didn't already know. Especially you. You were just supposed to go about your Spike business and let the memories fade away. You weren't supposed to come and try to rescue me and make me think that things could be different."

"But they are, love. Don't you see it? It's been over a month and nothing's changed. I'm not going to abandon you, and neither are my memories."

"Spike, you don't know what you're saying." She squirmed, trying to get away from him, but he held her arms, trapping her in her seat, forcing her to look at him.

"I know that I love you, pet. Tell me you don't feel the same."

"I...I can't Spike." She sagged further and looked away. "You know I do. I've always loved you."

"Not seeing how this is a problem, then." He released her and grinned, trying to charm her, but she didn't respond.

"Don't you see? That makes it worse! Your memories will start to slip, you'll realize it, and you'll panic. You'll get all intense and smothering and then suddenly you won't anymore. And the emptiness will be back, only worse than it was before. You'll forget like all the rest and I can't...I just can't...I won't go through it again. I won't...you can't make me." Her voice was weak and the tears spilled out of her.

"Not making you do anything, love." He tucked the hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear and moved closer. His voice was low and intense. "But if you want me as much as I want you right now, you'd be a fool to pass it up. I love you, Dawn. Please, pet, let me love you."

"Tell me," she begged as their lips got closer. "Tell me again."

"School," he soothed. "Your mum. An axe. My arm. You. Always you, love. Forever you." He waited, so close to her that he could feel the warmth of her shallow breath, listening to her heart beat. She felt like she was standing at the top of a high dive, finally understanding the concept of potential energy she'd tried to learn years ago. It took such a little effort for such a monumental change. She pushed herself through the tiny-wide distance between them and kissed him.

His mouth was cool, but no more than anyone else's would be after drinking a cold beverage. It quickly absorbed her heat and his hands slid up either side of her neck to cup her face. The extra touch sent shockwaves through Dawn and her heart rate sped up even more. His tongue lightly teased her lips, and she teased back. Kissing Spike. She was actually sitting on a carousel horse in the middle of a dark, empty park, kissing Spike.

"Step away from the girl, Demon!" A cold, masculine voice sliced through the moment. Before he even pulled completely away from Dawn, Spike shifted into game face and turned to the threat. Dawn jumped off the horse, ready to fight at his side, but he positioned himself between her and the voice. She started to protest, being perfectly capable of protecting herself, but was silenced by what was in front of them.

The first thing they saw was a trio of crossbows aimed directly at his heart, all being held by young girls. Slayers. A man, their watcher, was reading some sort of electronic instrument just behind them. His face was in the shadows but the voice...

"Not getting a heat sig off this one, and the bumps confirm it. It's a vamp. Dust him, ladies." They raised the crossbows to eye level and Dawn screamed.

"Xander! Stop it!" Hearing their watcher's name ripping out of the victim's throat stopped two of the girls, but the third was skittish and accidentally fired. The bolt tore into Spike's shoulder through the daisy, and he fell to the ground, cursing. Alexander Harris broke through the line of slayers and tried to pull the frantic girl off the injured vampire.

"Step back, miss. You could still get hurt."

"You idiot!" Dawn yelled as he forced her to stand. She beat her fists against his chest. "You almost killed Spike!"

"Spike?" He released her and peered down at the vampire. Spike was pulling the bolt out of his brand new suit. He groaned as the bolt finally ripped free.

"Yeah, it's me you stupid twit! Didn't the bloody Council tell you I was in the area?"

"Well, yeah but it's been five years. You look...the hair...the clothes." Xander ran a hand through his own hair, already graying at the temples. "Sorry man, I didn't recognize you. Just saw a vamp lead some girl into the park and thought, well, you know." He shrugged and reached a hand down to help Spike stand. Spike took it begrudgingly.

"Some girl? Some girl, mate? This isn't just some girl. This is—" He gestured past Xander to Dawn, who was shaking her head no, her features twisted in anguish. "...This girl is special."

"Special, huh?" He turned to Dawn, who was clearly very frightened, looking at Spike for help. He could certainly see what drew the vampire to the young woman. "Sorry to give you a scare, miss. Since you know his story, I'm guessing you already know about the whole slayer and watcher thing. We were just doing our job."

She nodded, but she wouldn't look the watcher in the eye. In fact, she seemed to be looking everywhere but his face. Strange, but understandable. He did just order the execution of her boyfriend. One thing nagged him, though.

"How'd you know my name?"

"I-I...um..." She searched for a lie as Spike slipped by Xander and put his arm around her. She clung to him desperately, burying her face against his chest.

"She works for the Council, mate." Spike explained, coming to her rescue. "With Willow. Got a thing for remembering faces, and yours is plastered all over that place. Terribly shy thing though..." Spike raised an eyebrow at Xander. It was time for the watcher to move on.

"Sure, sure." Xander responded, backing away. "We'll let you two get on with your evening. Sorry to disturb." He made a hasty retreat with the slayers following behind him.

"He's gone, love." Spike turned and lifted Dawn's chin. He wiped away the tears away from her face. He kissed her gently on the lips, trying in vain to transfer a bit of his strength with it.

"No more people, Spike. Please. Just take me home."

"Of course, pet. Anything you want." With his arm around her, he led her out of the park, into a cab, and the back to their rooms.

---

He was standing in the bathroom, stitching up what remained of the wound in his shoulder when Dawn walked in and set the mug of warmed blood on the counter. She had traded her clothes for a purple silk pajama top that hung down almost to her knees. She stood behind and gazed at him through the mirror. He could feel the heat pouring off of her onto his bare back.

"Does it hurt much?" she asked as he finished up the stitches.

"A bit, yeah. They soak the things in holy water these days. Not enough to do any real harm, but it smarts like hell. Takes a few days to heal, hence the needlepoint."

"I'm sorry, Spike. I'm sorry for all of it." He scoffed and snipped the thread.

"Well I'm sure as hell not. ‘Sides almost getting killed this was shaping up to be a right good time tonight. Our best yet." He turned towards her, leaning on the sink behind him.

"But you're hurt because of me." She stepped forward and skimmed the wound on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

"Hurt a lot worse watching you every day, not being able to touch you." She sighed and leaned against him, her cheek pressed against his bare chest.

"You can touch me now."

"That I can love, that I can." He stroked her hair, enjoying the nearness, the smell of her. She shifted and looked up at him. He saw something new in her eyes.

"Touch me, Spike. Make love to me. Please." He leaned down and kissed her.

"You sure? We don't have to rush this." She nodded.

"I want as many nights like this as I can before you forget me." He frowned and tapped her on the nose.

"I'm not going to forget you, niblet. I told you."

"Fine, then. I just want this." She lowered her head and looked up at him through her eyelashes. "Do you want me, Spike?"

In response, he pulled her body against his and kissed her, filling her mouth with his desire. She gasped for breath as his mouth left hers made its way down her neck. Desire washed over her as he nibbled across her collar bone, sliding the silky fabric out of his way.

"Guess that's a yes, then," she giggled, a little breathless. He growled playfully into her hair and picked her up in his arms. The shoulder with the fresh wound cried out in pain, but he barely felt it as she squealed and threw her arms around his neck.

"Your room or mine, pet?"

"Mine," she responded, and covered his neck with kisses.

He nudged the door open with his foot and was only slightly surprised to find the room dimly lit by a few candles. She grinned, mischief in her eyes, as he raised an eyebrow at her. He carried her over to the large bed and laid her down on the sheets, already turned down for the night. He stood there for a moment, admiring her before she reached up and pulled him down beside her.

Slowly, savoring her anticipation, he undid the buttons of her shirt and exposed the smooth skin underneath. She gasped as he ran his hand down the length of her. "So beautiful," he cooed into her neck as he put some of his weight on top of her. Her hands canvassed his back, thrilling in the feel of the taught muscles under the skin. First his hand, then his mouth found her breasts and she writhed with pleasure. With an impatient tug at his waistband, she demanded equal access to him. Another shared grin and he slid off just long enough to shed the offending garments, while she removed what remained of hers. She reached down as he climbed back on top of her. Her touch was so distracting that Spike paused to appreciate it. He looked at her hands and then into her eyes.

They'd both waited so long for this and neither wanted to wait longer. There would be time for all of that later. She ran her hands up his torso and pulled his head towards her. They kissed as he centered himself above her. The scent of her arousal and the slick warmth that he felt at her opening was all it took for his face to change. It was so sudden that he cut her tongue before he pulled away. Her blood on his tongue, even the small drop, sent him over the edge. He slammed into her with a feral yell, and she eagerly received the full length of him. She clung to him as he drove into her again and again. "Drink," she coaxed in his ear and stretched her neck before him. He shook his head no. As lost as he was in his arousal, he didn't want to hurt her. "Drink!" she commanded and bit down hard on his jugular, showing him the way. He roared as the demon reacted before the man could consider. She came, waves of ecstasy crashing over her as he sunk his teeth into her flesh. He held on as long as he could, but with her hot blood coursing through him he was surrounded by her euphoria inside and out. His release came with her last peak and they collapsed on the bed in a sweaty, spent heap.

"That was…um…" Dawn searched for words moments later as she idly stroked his chest. "That was…really nice."

"That was bloody great, love. That's what that was." She smiled and rolled over, resting her head on his chest.

"We should do that again. As soon as possible." She stretched up and kissed him, revealing the fresh wound.

"Bloody Hell, Dawn! That wasn't supposed to happen!" He sat up, unseating her in the process. She felt the mark and was surprised to find it still weeping. Still, she played it off.

"Silly Spike, it's just a scratch." She giggled and gently slapped away his frantic hands. "Barely worse than anything I did to your back."

"It's hardly a scratch, love. I should have been more careful. You should have—"

"Spike, I knew what I was doing. You're a vampire. You've got special...needs." She offered the wet fingers to him and he licked them clean. "Special urges."

"The way you had me going, you're lucky I didn't drain you dry."

"You wouldn't." She cupped his worried face in your hands. "You wouldn't ever harm me. But I'll go clean this up, just to make you feel better." She kissed him on the forehead and hopped off the bed. She turned in the doorway, the candlelight highlighting every curve of her body. "You'd just better be ready for me when I get back."

He swallowed hard and nodded his head. It was going to be a long, wonderful night.

********

Three weeks later, they reached the conclusion that they were done with New York.

"I called Willow and left a message," Spike told her early one evening while they were lounging in bed. "Told her we were in the market for a gig in a new city."

"Work? But why? Why can't we just keep traveling from city to city? Who needs the Council?"

"We do, love," he leaned over and kissed her. "We can't keep living off them without giving a bit back. She'll call with a list of places that could use some help. You pick one and we'll high tail it out of here."

"What will we do?" she pouted, and he took a moment to suck on the bottom lip she prominently displayed.

"The usual. Scouting for new slayers, helping clean out a hellmouth, maybe a spot of research here and there. Just a bit of stuff to earn our keep." Dawn sighed, tracing circles on his chest.

"Alright, as long as we stay away from people who knew me…before." She glanced over at the clock, frowning. "We'd better hurry. The show starts in less than an hour." She scuttled out of the bed and into the bathroom to get ready.

The phone rang while Spike was in the shower. "Dawn, love, can you get that? It's probably Willow." There was no answer, and the phone kept ringing. "Niblet? The phone?" Still no answer. "What is with that girl?" He hastily shut off the water while the phone kept echoing around him. "Dawn? Dawn!"

He found her in the living room, collapsed on her floor. A hazy green mist hovered in the air above her. It quickly dissipated into nothing as he rushed to her side. She was alive, but just barely. Nothing looked broken so he scooped her up in his arms. The movement aroused her and her eyes fluttered open.

"Spike?" Her voice was a dry and raspy sound.

"I'm here, love. What happened?" He pulled her frail body into his lap and begins gently rocking her.

"I…I don't know. The phone rang and I … I can't remember." She was dying. He could hear it in her voice and in her shallow heartbeat. Her skin was clammy and pale. Whatever that mist was, it was killing her. She slipped back into unconsciousness and he pulled her closer.

"It's okay, pet. It's okay. It will all be okay. It has to be."

The hospital couldn't find anything wrong with her, and neither could the Council's New York branch. So, less than a day later he was back where he'd began: on Willow's doorstep with a desperate look in his eye. Only this time, Dawn was cradled in his arms. She had woken up occasionally during the frantic trip across the Atlantic, but never long enough to say more than a few words. He growled at the servant who answered the door and demanded to see the lady of the house.

"Spike?" Willow asked as she came to the door moments later. She took one look at the frantic vampire and the frail girl with bite marks all over her neck. Some looked almost a month old, but some were very fresh. Her concern was immediate, but not entirely in the vampire's favor. He felt the ward go up around him.

"What are you doing, Willow?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Spike. You don't just show up here without warning—"

"Without warning? The Council told you we were coming!"

"The Council said you were moving back to London, they didn't say anything about you showing up with a girl you've drained asking for sanctuary. You know the Council has strict rules about this sort of thing. If you're in trouble, there are other---"

"It's Dawn, you twit. And I don't know how much longer she's got."

"Dawn? It's two in the morning, Spike! What are you talking about?"

Spike slipped into his game face. "Bloody Hell, Red, just call the Poof!"

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