Useless Desires

By Enigmatic Blue

Chapter 11

“The real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else.” ~Umberto Eco

Tara was quiet on the drive to L.A. She wasn’t concerned about the shop, knowing that Tim could be trusted to take care of things. It was Dawn who worried her now, as she hadn’t been able to reach the girl and let her know they were going out of town. After the night Dawn spent with the three of them, Tara had hoped she would come around, but it wasn’t looking likely.

“You’ve been quiet, pet.”

Spike’s warm voice startled Tara out of her thoughts, and she glanced over at him. All that could be seen was a dim outline against black glass, the brightness of his hair and pale skin giving him away. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Care to share?”

She smiled. “About Dawn. I tried to reach her to let her know we were leaving town, but—”

“No good, huh?” Spike asked, disappointment flashing across his face. “I went over there before we left.”

“You did?” Tara’s voice was colored in by surprise.

“She was properly hung over,” Spike said, sounding almost wry, but Tara could hear the pain behind it. “Thought maybe—”

Tara put a hand on his arm. “We both did.” She laughed shortly. “Trust me, if I thought it would do any good, I’d put a spell on her that would pound some sense into her head. Or something. I’m just not sure what to do. How did she take the news?”

“’bout like you’d expect. Asked me if I was really comin’ back, an’ then told me she wasn’t sure I was tellin’ the truth.” Spike rolled his eyes. “Girl’s more melodramatic than her sister ever was, an’ that’s sayin’ something.”

Tara had to hide her smile, since her traveling companion was something of a drama prince himself. “I have to believe that she’s going to grow out of this.”

“I think she will,” Spike said quietly. “I just hate to see her hurtin’.” He chuckled slightly. “’m just glad I didn’t have to go through this with Tim. He’d done his teenage rebellion by the time I got him.” There was a slight pause, and then Spike said quietly, “I think Tim was just so relieved to have a place to crash, he wasn’t goin’ to jeapordize it.”

“I could see that,” Tara admitted. “Too bad some of that common sense hasn’t rubbed off on Dawn yet.”

Spike laughed. “That would be nice.”

They drove for a while in silence, although the quiet in the car was more comfortable. Tara found herself drifting off to sleep, perfectly content knowing that Spike was taking care of things. She supposed it spoke to the strangeness of her life to say that she trusted a vampire more than anyone else, but then again, Spike was a very strange vampire.

~~~~~

Tim found it strange to be home alone. Not that there weren’t times when Spike was out and he stayed in, but having the vampire out of town was a completely different story. He didn’t remember that happening in the five years they’d lived together.

Luz was good company, to a certain point. As great a dog as she was, she didn’t talk back. Tim missed Tara’s quiet presence in the shop, and he missed Spike giving him shit when he got home.

While Tim didn’t like to admit it, he enjoyed having people look after him. It wasn’t that he needed it, since he was certain that he’d be just fine on his own. It was kind of like going back to his childhood and getting everything he’d never gotten from his parents from Spike. Having Tara around, although still novel, was beginning to feel natural as well. It was one of the major reasons Tim wanted to stay in Sunnydale.

You could call anywhere home as long as you had people around you who cared. Spike had taught him that.

The Bronze was merely a distraction to get him through the night. Tim felt restless and didn’t want to stay in. Luz would be fine on her own for a few hours. The club was crowded, and most of the tables were filled. Tim saw a few people he recognized from Ryan’s party, and he waved a cheerful hello to them without saying much. He was there to watch more than participate.

He got his one beer for the evening and started to circulate among the crowd, frowning when he saw Dawn dancing with some no-neck. For a brief, insane moment, Tim was tempted to go over and cut in, but the guy would probably cream him.

Honestly, Tim hadn’t decided if Dawn was worth it yet.

He stopped to chat with a few people he knew at random intervals, asking a few over to play video games and eat pizza the following night. Tim wished he had the nerve to ask Dawn to come but was worried it would sound too much like a date and scare her off.

Tim was just preparing to leave when he heard her voice behind him. “Hey, Tim! What are you up to?”

“Just hanging out,” he replied. “The apartment was kind of quiet tonight.”

Dawn made a face. “Yeah, with Spike out of town, I guess it would be. He came by the other day, but I was, uh, indisposed.”

Tim laughed. “Yeah, so I heard.” He faltered slightly. “You, uh, want to come over tomorrow night? Spike and Tara won’t be home till the day after, and we were just going to play some video games and eat pizza. It won’t be anything exciting, but—”

“I’ll be there,” Dawn replied, touching him lightly on the arm. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder. “I have to get back, but I’ll see you tomorrow. What time?”

“Eight,” Tim replied, watching Dawn smile brightly and dash off into the crowd with the sinking feeling that he was going to get his heart trampled all over again.

~~~~~

Spike glanced over at the sleeping figure and smiled. It had been a long time since he’d had someone he could call a friend—not really since Buffy, and that was iffy at best. There had been moments in their relationship when they had tentatively begun moving towards friendship, but it had been derailed.

Who before that? Spike wondered silently. Drusilla had been both his Sire and his lover, but he had never had a true partnership with her. She had required too much care for that. Angelus had been something of a brother, until he’d betrayed that trust by proving that he could take Drusilla whenever he wanted.

There had been the odd minion who had been slightly more than that—Dalton had occasionally been good for a conversation, for example. But his life had been largely void of friendship.

Tim was becoming a friend, but Spike thought of him more as a younger brother—as family, someone to take care of.

Tara was an equal.

She didn’t stir as he went to check into their hotel room. She’d insisted they share, since it would save them both money. Spike had pointed out that he could easily pay for two rooms if she would feel more comfortable, but she had just laughed at him. “I think I can trust you to be a gentleman, Spike.”

He loved hearing her laugh.

“Tara-luv, we’re here,” he called softly as he parked in front of their room. When she didn’t stir, Spike tried again, shaking her with a gentle hand. “Tara, we’re here. You have to wake up, luv, unless you want me to carry you in.”

She stirred sleepily. “I’m too heavy.”

“Not hardly. Not for me, pet. Come on, I’ll grab your bag.” He was as good as his word, grabbing both their bags from the trunk and opening the door before handing her a key-card. “Apparently, they’ve got a hot tub,” Spike told her with a smile. “Good thing we decided to stay over an extra night, huh?”

Tara shook her head. “I don’t have a swimming suit, Spike.”

“So?” he replied. “We’ll wait till everyone’s gone an’ just go with what we’ve got.”

“I’m not going skinny-dipping in a public place!” Tara protested. “You don’t know who might see us.”

Spike’s grin widened. “An’ that’s most of the fun. ‘s an adrenalin rush wonderin’ if you goin’ to get caught.”

Tara’s eyes narrowed. “Vampires don’t have a working endocrine system,” she pointed out. “Ergo, no adrenalin.”

“Doesn’t mean we don’t get excited,” Spike replied.

She stared at him a moment before bursting into laughter, her sleepiness dissipating. “You’re insane!”

“Been accused of that before,” he admitted. “Come on now. You have to admit the idea has a certain appeal.”

It did. That was the scary part. Spike seemed to bring out the worst—best?—in her, daring her to take chances Tara had long thought never to take again. He never truly encouraged irresponsibility, but he did have a knack for inciting a little harmless mayhem.

Spike, in fact, seemed to encourage those around him to live life to the fullest. From what little she knew about Tim’s past, Tara suspected that it would have been all too easy for the boy to surrender to death. Instead, Spike saved him.

“Not tonight,” Tara finally said. “But I’ll see what I can find tomorrow. Sitting in a hot tub sounds like fun.” She frowned. “Aren’t we going to have trouble, though? Getting you back home without getting too badly singed?”

“Tint on the windows is dark enough,” Spike assured her. “It’s actually illegal, but as long as I don’t give the cops too good a reason to pull me over it’s fine. That, an’ I’m plannin’ on checkin’ out before first light.”

Tara made a face. She wasn’t completely averse to mornings, but that was a little too early for her. “Ugh. Well, if we must, we must.”

“’fraid so, pet. Look at it this way though,” he suggested. “If we stay up all night, it’ll just be really late, an’ not early. And you can sleep on the way.”

“I could help drive, you know,” Tara pointed out.

“My Mustang?” Spike replied with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t think so. You goin’ to sleep now, pet?”

He kept calling her that, Tara noticed. He called her by her name as well, but Spike always seemed to be using a nickname or endearment for people. Somehow, she didn’t mind as she might have with someone else. “Yeah.” Her words were punctuated with a yawn. “I think so.”

Spike allowed Tara to use the bathroom first, flipping through the channels on the TV until she climbed between the sheets. He’d taken the bed closest to the door, and Tara wondered if there was a specific reason, or if he just liked that one better for some reason.

The darkness seemed to fill up the room once all the lights were off—fill it up and yet comfort her. Spike made no sound, but it was easy to remember that he was only a few feet away from her. It seemed like the next best thing to sharing a bed.

That was what Tara missed the most. She missed sharing a bed with someone, cuddling with them, holding and being held. The space next to her felt all the more empty for having once been filled.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me about yourself.”

There was a faint chuckle from his direction. Tara wasn’t certain she’d even be able to see her hand in front of her face with curtains tightly drawn to prevent any stray sunbeams—and incidentally street lights. “You know everythin’ there is to know.”

“I don’t know anything about you before you were turned.”

Tara felt the silence that followed. Spike, for his part, was stunned. No one had ever asked about that. Dawn had asked a few questions the summer Buffy had been gone, but she’d wanted him to tell her stories of her mom and her sister over and over again. Spike had dredged up every memory he had of every meeting between himself and the Slayer—and Joyce. Tim, after the first few tentative questions, had stopped asking. Spike simply hadn’t told him anything at all.

Oddly enough, Spike thought Tara might understand. “Nothin’ much to tell.” More quiet laughter, but this time with a bitter quality. “I was a gentleman, born an’ bred. My father died when I was young, an’ my mum was the one that raised me mostly. An’ then she got sick.”

“What happened?”

It was easier to speak the words into the air, to know that Tara was close by but not to be able to see her. If he tried, he could make her out, but Spike didn’t want to try. “There was a party,” he said quietly. “The girl I loved was there, an’ I was workin’ on a poem about her.” He waited for her laughter, but it never came. “Some gits read it out loud, an’ she figured it out. Was pretty obvious I had it bad for her. She asked me, an’ I told her, an’ then she told me to get lost.”

Spike couldn’t even bear repeat her words, although they were burned on his memory. “Met Dru in an alley after I ran out in tears. Told you I was really a poncy git.”

The raw pain in his voice was a century old, Tara realized. She had no doubt that it had followed him for every one of the years he’d been alive—so to speak. It was no wonder that Buffy had nearly driven him crazy, and the witch had to wonder how much the Slayer knew. “You’re not a ‘poncy git,’ Spike, whatever that means. Did Buffy know any of this?”

“No.” The word was cut short, hurt sharpening its edges. “She asked ‘bout the Slayers I killed, but I spun her some story I’d worked up. Went better with the image.”

Tara found herself oddly gratified that she was the only one who knew this story. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Didn’t think it would matter to you.”

“It does,” she replied softly into the darkness. “But not for the reasons you’re thinking.”

~~~~~

Tim found himself grateful for Luz’s company in the shop the next day. They stayed fairly busy, but during the slow times he found himself incredibly bored. He’d re-read all the books he normally carried around with him, which meant he’d need to find the Sunnydale library pretty soon, or a good used bookstore.

There were, of course, all the magic books, but they held no interest for him.

When Dawn walked in, he looked up in surprise and pleasure. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Not much,” Dawn replied, looking around. The place was looking good. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop in.”

“You still gonna be able to make it tonight?” Tim asked, trying not to sound to eager.

Dawn was torn. She wanted to go; she knew that it would probably be a better option than the one she was considering, but the frat party would allow her a chance to let off some steam. Midterms were coming up in a day or two, and Dawn was beginning to feel the pressure.

“I don’t know, Tim,” she replied. “I should probably study.” She caught the way his face fell slightly, and Dawn realized that he was beginning to have more than friendly feelings for her. “But maybe we could just hang out today,” she suggested. “I’ve got some homework with me, but—”

“That would be cool,” Tim said immediately. “I mean, if you want to, and if you won’t be too distracted.”

The guilt deepened. She hated lying. Dawn was good at it, but she still hated it. Sometimes, she just couldn’t seem to help herself. “No,” she said quickly. “I used to study here all the time back when—” she faltered slightly. “It was my favorite spot.”

“Great,” he replied. “That’s—great.”

Dawn tried to remind herself that it wouldn’t do any good to get attached. Sooner or later Spike would leave, and then Tim would go with him. So she was doing both of them a favor.



Chapter 12

“There is an alchemy in sorrow. It can be transmuted into wisdom, which, if it does not bring joy, can yet bring happiness.” ~Pearl Buck

They hadn’t talked about it, but Tara knew Spike’s errand was more than a little dangerous. If his duplicity was discovered before he was safely away, the vampire would have a rather nasty fight on his hands. While Tara was certain that Spike could take care of himself, that didn’t prevent her from worrying about him.

She had been rather impressed at the fake crystal he’d created. When the two were set side by side, there was no discernable difference. The replica even had the same aura of dark magics, created by the spell Spike had wrought. So really, Spike had a good chance of success. There was no reason to be concerned.

Except that she’d been expecting him for over an hour now.

Tara sighed as she sat, her stomach clenching with hunger. She ought to just go get something to eat. Spike had mentioned going out once he returned, but it was getting late, and she was starving.

Just as she’d made her decision to head out, she heard the click of the lock and Spike stuck his head through the door. “Hungry, luv?”

“Starving,” Tara replied. “You were supposed to be back an hour ago.”

He shrugged. “The negotiations took a bit longer than I thought.” He entered the room fully then, revealing two bags of food. “Got a bit of everything nearly,” Spike explained. “Wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

“Anything right now,” Tara said, grabbing one of the bags and pulling out little cardboard boxes. She was amazed at the variety Spike had gotten—several different entrees and appetizers with a range from vegetarian to beef. “I take it you didn’t have any trouble selling the crystal.”

“Bit of dickering over the price, but no,” Spike said through a mouthful of pot sticker and chili sauce. One might be able to call the glint in his eyes evil. “When the wanker tries to use it for the spell, it’ll probably blow up on him, so I won’t even have to worry ‘bout him comin’ after me.”

She shook her head. “I suppose that’s one way to do it.” Tara had never really thought of Spike as someone who would hunt demons on his own. He had always been Buffy’s shadow or reluctant ally. This was a different Spike, however, as he kept reminding her constantly.

“You gonna soak in the hot tub with me tonight?”

Tara sighed. “I bought a swim suit today, so yes.” She gave him a smug little smile. “I also got one for you.”

“There was no need for that,” Spike protested, but she caught the pleased look on his face. It took so little to touch him. Things she would do for a friend as a matter of course seemed to shock him. He gave her a suspicious look. “’s not one of those Hawaiian numbers, is it? ‘cause I’m not wearin’ it if it is.”

“It’s navy blue.” Tara grinned at him. “I thought about orange, but I didn’t really want to find out if you’d go skinny dipping.”

“Good thing, because you would have,” he replied. “We’ll finish up here an’ go in. Should be nice.”

Tara wasn’t sure how excited she was about it. The hot tub sounded nice, but it required a swimming suit, and she hadn’t been in one of those since she’d dated Willow, the summer before Glory. “Should be.”

~~~~~

Tim was as relaxed as he ever was. The party seemed to be going well. About half a dozen people had shown up, including Ryan, Meredith, and her boyfriend, Curtis. A dozen pizza boxes lay scattered around and the soda was flowing freely. A couple people had brought six packs of beer, but it wasn’t enough for anybody to get drunk, although a few were looking a little buzzed. Two guys were playing Halo 3, while another watched.

Meredith was feeding Luz bits of pepperoni and sausage from her pizza, and Tim was just hoping that the dog didn’t eat enough of the greasy meat to make herself sick. The girl glanced up at him guiltily. “Is this okay?” she asked. “I didn’t even ask you if you fed Luz scraps or not.”

Tim shrugged. “No, it’s fine.” He gave her a fond look. “She’ll eat just about anything.”

“Where’d you get her?” Curtis asked, looking on with interest. “She’s one great dog.”

“In an alley,” he replied, wondering how far he wanted to go with this story. Tim did have an edited version that he’d practiced. It wasn’t an outright lie, but it avoided the more graphic details. “I guess it was about a year after I started living with Spike when I found her. She was just this filthy, fuzzy puppy. Somebody abandoned her, I guess. I brought her home and convinced Spike we needed to keep her.”

The four of them were standing around in the kitchen while everyone else played or watched the game in the living room. “How’d you wind up with Spike?” Ryan asked.

“Fluke, mainly,” Tim said quietly. “I wasn’t seeing eye to eye with my folks and he gave me a place to crash. When things didn’t get better, they pretty much let him have custody.”

“Sounds like my parents,” Curtis said. “They couldn’t wait to get me out of the house.”

Meredith shrugged. “My folks are okay. We don’t always get along, but they’re cool.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Every one of them had a story, some more painful than others. Ryan changed the subject. “So why didn’t you invite Dawn tonight, Tim?”

Tim looked surprised. “I did. She said she had some studying to do. Why?” The other three at the table exchanged looks. “What?” Tim asked more insistently.

“We saw her going into one of the frat houses on our way over here,” Meredith said. “Curtis lives on campus, so…” She trailed off.

Ryan grimaced. “Look, man, I wouldn’t have even said anything, but I thought you and her were together. I thought—”

“She was hanging all over some other guy,” Curtis supplied. “We wondered if you two broke it off or something.”

Tim frowned. “No, we aren’t together, but—Are you sure it was Dawn? It could have been somebody else, right?”

“It was Dawn, Tim,” Meredith said quietly. “I’m sure of it. I’ve had a couple classes with her. That’s one of the reasons I was surprised she was at the party last week.”

Tim swallowed hard, his eyes going to the white scar on the inside of his forearm. They weren’t dating, and he’d had no illusions about that even being a possibility. He’d thought they were friends, however, and friends didn’t lie about stuff like that. “So she blew me off then.”

“Sorry, Tim,” Curtis said softly. “That sucks.”

He shook his head. “I guess my first impression was right.”

~~~~~

Tara had never been thin. She’d never been dissatisfied with her figure—nor had she been particularly fond of it. Her body had simply been her body. There was so much more to a person than physical form that Tara had always viewed it merely as wrapping. Some wrapping was nicer than others, of course, but it wasn’t all that important.

Not that she wasn’t physically attracted to different people. Tara had thought Willow beautiful, and there had been others she had met whose physical beauty caused her to do a double-take. But Tara understood that it was what lay underneath that counted.

Perhaps her way of viewing things had been informed by her own development. She’d been big boned as a child, developing early. By the time she was twelve, her breasts had been larger than most girls’ her age, pendulous and heavy. Tara had gone from a girl to a woman in one summer, at least physically.

It had been her brother who paid the most attention.

When she was thirteen, Tara had reached her full height, and she had been voluptuous—Rubenesque, some might have said. Donny had been the first to touch her.

He’d never completed his assault. Her father had come upon them as her brother had one hand shoved under her shirt, one hand down her pants. Donny had received a scolding for touching her in such a way.

Tara had gotten her father’s belt for enticing him.

So she knew that bodies meant little, even though they could bring pain and possibly unwanted attention. Tara had, after all, spent six years making certain her brother could not complete his assault. That did not explain why she felt self-conscious standing in front of Spike in her bathing suit—a simple one piece that had seemed to flatter her curves in the store.

Spike, however, was all chiseled muscle, white skin pulled taut. He looked like some carved marble statue, and although it had been a very long time since Tara had felt any sort of attraction to a man, she felt something now. Something that was just a little more than simple admiration of his form.

Her self-consciousness vanished at his frankly appreciative gaze. “You look like a bloody recreation of Venus.” When Tara flushed, Spike started apologizing. “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Glinda. I don’t—”

“No, it’s okay,” she replied. There was a warmth in her belly that came from being admired—whether the eyes were male or female didn’t really matter. She smiled at him—the smile of a woman who knows her own beauty.

The hours for the pool were already over by the time they got there, but Tara followed Spike inside the iron gates anyway. Sometimes it felt good to break the rules.

She watched Spike settle into the hot tub with a sigh of contentment and quickly followed his example. “I didn’t know you liked this sort of thing.”

“What’s not to like?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Hot water, bubbles, attractive female…” The leer was in jest, and she took it as such. “Haven’t been able to do this in a good long while.”

Tara let out a long breath, letting the heat relax her. “Can I ask you a question?”

Spike laughed. “Is this another one about before I was turned?”

“No, it’s one about why you haven’t dated since Buffy,” Tara replied.

He shook his head. “You don’t pull your punches do you?” When Tara looked ready to apologize, he waved her off. “No, ‘s alright. I’ll let you know when ‘m not goin’ to answer.” There was a long pause, during which time Tara was very nearly certain Spike wasn’t going to respond. “This is goin’ to sound cliché, but I just never met the right person,” he finally said. “Could ask you the same about Willow.” Spike gave her a serious look. “Birds should be knockin’ down your door.”

“I loved Willow like you loved Buffy, Spike,” Tara replied simply. “It’s hard to find someone who can compare. And I don’t trust easily anymore.”

Spike opened his mouth to speak and then snapped it shut again.

“Go ahead and ask.”

“But you trust me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Even knowin’ what I did.”

“Even then.” Tara moved her hand through the water, the ripples she created invisible against the current created with the bubbles. “I don’t know, Spike. I guess you just strike me as a trustworthy guy.”

“Demon.”

“Man.” Her tone was almost sharp. “You shouldn’t put yourself down like that.”

“’s what I am, luv,” Spike said simply. “’ve been a vampire for a long time now, so I should know.”

“But you’re so much more!” Tara blurted out. “You’re—”

“What?”

She was silent. Spike was more than just a demon, but he was right. There was a demon that lived within him. Tara had to wonder if it was his self-deprecation that led him to say what he did, or her refusal to accept him as he was that caused her to deny it. If that was the case, she needed to rethink things. “You’re my friend. Demon, man, it doesn’t matter.”

Spike was surprised to realize that Tara meant it. The fact that he was a vampire meant nothing more to her than he could not go out into the sunlight and he drank blood on occasion. Like Tim, she accepted him for all that he was. “Ta, luv.”

He watched her through the steam that drifted up from the surface of the water as she lay her head back against the side and closed her eyes. Spike didn’t think he’d ever felt for another woman what he felt for Tara. He wanted her, of course; he was certainly attracted to her physically. But she was out of his reach—and through no fault of his. It wasn’t that he was somehow beneath her. Men just weren’t her style.

It was love, he knew. Not the all-consuming passion he had felt for Buffy, but a more gentle feeling. She was his friend first, and it was that thought that led Spike to reach out and touch Tara’s hand where it floated in the water.

Her eyes fluttered open and for a moment, Spike thought perhaps he had crossed some line. Instead, she simply moved her hand so that their fingers could intertwine.

Spike had never known simply holding someone’s hand could bring so much satisfaction.

“Are you glad you came back to Sunnydale, Spike?”

He smiled, his expression enigmatic. “Yeah, Tara. This time I am.”

~~~~~

Tim heard Spike enter the apartment moments before daybreak. Sleep had been elusive, and he kept wondering if this was the way things would always be. If he’d always fall in love with girls who wouldn’t love him. Who wouldn’t even like him.

He watched listlessly as Luz sprang up from her spot on the floor, nudging the door to his room open so she could greet the vampire. There were soft whines of greeting, and then Spike pushed the door open to look at him. “You awake already?”

“More like still,” Tim said wryly, and Spike caught the note of pain in his voice that had been absent for a while.

There was a long pause, and then Spike asked, “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Spike sighed. “’m goin’ to make some coffee. You getting up now or are you goin’ to try and sleep?”

“I’ll get up.” Tim pushed himself up, listening to the sounds of Spike and Luz in the kitchen. He stared at the scars that lined the inside of his arm. The colored ink was a different way to do it, Tim supposed. It still marked him, but it was less self-destructive and a lot prettier. He’d thought Dawn understood.

“You want to tell me about it?” Spike asked once he’d made his way to the kitchen.

Tim shrugged. “Nothing happened, Spike. I had a party here last night, that’s all.”

Spike looked around the apartment, noting the lack of destruction. “’m guessin’ either the party was a huge success, or it was a total failure.”

“Success,” Tim replied, his fingers going to the star on his arm.

Spike frowned. “Tim, tell me. You’re getting me worried now.”

“I invited Dawn, and she didn’t show.”

Spike blinked, realizing what was going on. “Tim, I’m sorry. Dawn is—”

“A liar,” Tim said flatly. “She said she was going to come, and then she told me she had to study for midterms. Meredith and Curtis saw her going to a frat party hanging all over a guy.” He looked up at Spike. “She lied to me.”

Spike hissed in a breath. He really did understand how Tim was feeling, having been through something similar with Dawn’s older sister. “Yeah, looks like she did.”

“Is it always going to be this way?” Tim demanded. “I—she’s the only one I’ve ever told about the cutting, you know, and she just blew me off like that. How would she react if I—How could I tell any girl about that?”

Spike didn’t have an answer for him. His own love life was not one he could draw comparisons from. Or rather it was, but they were not hopeful. His track record with women seemed to indicate a dismal future.

Except for Tara, but she was just a friend.

“I don’t know, lad,” Spike finally said. “I’d say you just haven’t met the right girl yet, but—well, I haven’t either. That’s prob’ly not what you wanted to hear.”

Tim was blinking rapidly, and Spike could see he was on the verge of tears. His undead heart broke for the boy. Tim didn’t need this, and his past made him especially vulnerable to slights of this sort. Dawn probably had meant to spare his feelings by lying, but if there was one thing Tim couldn’t handle, it was being lied to.

It was one of the reasons Spike had probably done so well by Tim. He was always brutally honest when it came to relationships.

“This is goin’ to sound stupid, but give it some time,” Spike said quietly. “We’ve only just got here, and if we need to go somewhere else—”

Tim could hear the pain in his voice and knew that it was from the thought of leaving Sunnydale—and Tara. Spike would pack up and move again for him. That said something. “No,” Tim said quietly. “I mean, Tara’s here, and I’m starting to meet people and all. It’ll be fine.”

Spike only hoped he was right. He had no desire to pick up the shattered pieces of Tim’s heart once again. It hurt both of them too damn badly.



Chapter 13

“Scars are stories, history written on the body.” ~Kathryn Harrison

Dawn looked up into Tim’s face as the door swung open. She was about to give him a cheery greeting when he turned and stalked off back into the apartment, leaving the door open behind him. “Hey, Tim,” she said, her voice uncertain.

“What do you want?”

His voice hadn’t been that cold towards her in a while, and Dawn faltered slightly. “I was just coming over to say hi. I know I missed the party, but midterms were all this last week, and I thought—“

“Spare me,” Tim bit out. “You lied to me, Dawn.”

She couldn’t stop the warmth from creeping into her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had to study.”

“Meredith and her boyfriend saw you going into one of the frat houses on campus,” Tim accused. “You lied to me.”

Dawn immediately went on the defensive. “No, Tim! It just came up last minute. I was going to study, but—”

“You could have told me the truth!” he said, as though she hadn’t said anything. “I might have been disappointed you couldn’t make it, but I would have understood. I thought we were friends.”

It was the raw pain in his voice that stopped her from trying to explain. “We are.”

“Then why did you lie, Dawn?” Tim demanded.

Dawn blinked, taking a step back. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Newsflash, princess, you did,” Tim shot back. “I was honest with you. I told you things I hadn’t told anybody else, and not only did you blow me off, but you lied about it. I don’t operate that way.”

“Tim, wait,” Dawn said as he started to turn away.

He turned to face her, his yellow-green eyes blazing. “No. You screwed up, Dawn. I don’t really want to see you again.”

Dawn watched his bedroom door slam behind him, wincing at the sound. She hadn’t expected him to find out, and hadn’t thought he would take it that badly even if he did. A sound caused her to turn, and she saw Spike standing in the entrance, disappointment written all over his face. “How much of that did you hear?”

“All of it,” he replied, coming in and shutting the door behind him.

Dawn wanted desperately to make him understand. “I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, Spike. I thought—”

“I know,” Spike said softly. “You didn’t want him to think you were ditching him.”

“I wasn’t ditching him!” she protested. “It was just—”

“You had a better opportunity,” Spike stated flatly. “We both get that, Dawn, but Tim was right. You lied to him. That was not well done.”

Dawn’s head jerked back as though she’d been slapped. “Spike—”

“You’re not the only one who’s hurting these days, Bit,” the vampire stated. “What you do, the choices you make, they affect the people around you. Tim is a strong kid, but he’s been hurt in the past, and I won’t have you making things worse for him.”

Dawn’s lower lip trembled, but Spike refused to be moved. The girl had been playing fast and loose lately, wallowing in her own pain. It was time for her to realize that the universe didn’t revolve around her. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t,” Spike said. “That doesn’t change the fact that you did. I told you I’d be here for you, Dawn, and I meant that. If you need me, I’ll do what I can for you, luv, but I won’t stand around an’ watch you destroy your own life an’ take others down with you.”

Dawn took a step back. “That’s not fair, Spike.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked. “Your choices aren’t just hurting you anymore, Dawn.”

She felt an almost physical pain in her chest, knowing that he was right—knowing that she had hurt Tim and hating herself for it. Hating herself for doing all the things she knew she ought not to be doing. Seeing the disappointment in Spike’s face reminded her that there were others who would have been just as disappointed in her behavior.

Dawn wasn’t ready to face that yet.

“You can’t tell me what to do or how to live my life!” Dawn shouted back. “You don’t know what it’s like to be in my shoes.”

“Maybe not,” Spike said, his face grim as he pulled the last of his ammunition out, hoping to reach her. “I do know that your mum an’ your sister would be pretty disappointed in you right now. I think you know that too.”

Dawn didn’t have a reply to that. Instead she rushed out the door, slamming it behind her. Spike slumped against the wall. Way back when, Spike had used the truth as a weapon against the Slayer, wanting to cut her deeply. Now he tried to use the truth to heal, to do the right thing. He’d wanted to turn Dawn away from this deeply destructive path she was treading.

In the end, he thought that he might have chased her away for good.

~~~~~

Spike found that he needed to see Tara, needed to relax in the serenity her presence offered. He needed an adult’s presence. When she let him in, her face immediately creased in concern. “What happened?”

Briefly, the vampire described the confrontation between Tim and Dawn and then what he’d said to her. “You don’t think I was bein’ too harsh, do you?”

Tara sighed. “You were a little harsh, Spike, but it’s nothing I haven’t wanted to say to her. Dawn needs to realize that she isn’t the only person in the world.”

Spike shook his head. “I didn’t know what else to say to make her understand. How was Tim today?”

“Quiet,” Tara replied. “I thought perhaps something had happened, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it. I wasn’t sure if I should push or not.”

“Hard to say with Tim,” Spike said with a grimace. “Sometimes you push an’ he leaves. Other times he’ll start talkin’ your ear off.”

“I can keep an eye on him if you think it’s necessary.” Tara touched his arm gently. “Just let me know.”

“Ta, luv,” Spike replied, finding himself leaning just a little closer. “I wanted to—” He stopped, not knowing how to say it. “Did you, uh, have fun? In L.A.?”

Tara frowned slightly, sensing his change in direction and wondering what had brought it on. “I did. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to get out of town like that.”

Spike laughed nervously, feeling again the strange attraction that he was trying hard not to put a name to. Falling in love with a woman who didn’t like men would be about his luck, however. It wasn’t like he was ever smart about who he fell for. “Yeah, me too. It’s been a while since I’ve had some, you know, adult company.”

If she didn’t know better, Tara would have said that Spike was nervous. “It was nice.” She tightened her grip on his arm; she hadn’t yet thought to pull away. “Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

Spike shook his head jerkily. “No, I just—wanted to let you know ‘bout Dawn and Tim. That’s all.”

He turned to go. Tara wanted to do something, say something—to touch him. She told herself that it wasn’t about physical attraction. It was more that they seemed connected on some deep level. Already Tara couldn’t imagine life in Sunnydale without Spike. “Spike—” When he turned to face her again, all she could manage was a brief caress, her hand against his cheek. “Call me if you need anything.”

Spike caught her hand where it rested on his cheek and squeezed briefly. “Will do, luv.”

And then he was gone.

~~~~~

The withdrawal symptoms were bad. Spike had never thought to be playing nursemaid to a human, let alone a young street kid. There had been one or two fantasies where the Slayer allowed him to take care of her, but that’s all they had been—fantasies.

He’d been kept busy keeping Tim company for the first few days he was there, making sure he got through the shakes and vomiting. Thankfully Tim hadn’t been on anything that could kill him from sudden withdrawal. At night, there were the screams from night terrors, and Spike was grateful that he lived in an area where people didn’t pay a lot of attention to things like that.

After a week had passed, Spike decided he could risk leaving Tim alone for long enough to get some business done. Feeding a human cost a little more than buying blood. The kid’s injuries were healing nicely, and although Spike didn’t ask a lot of questions, it was mostly because he already knew the answers.

Besides, he really wasn’t sure if Tim would respond well to inquiries.

They soon fell into an uneasy routine. Spike really had no idea how to treat the boy, who reminded him of a whipped puppy most days. He did for Tim what he’d done for Dawn—made sure the boy ate, took care of him when he had his nightmares, made sure he went to school and got his homework done.

All the while, Tim seemed almost pathetically grateful for the attention—and scared to death that Spike would suddenly change his mind about him staying. A terror that had subsided only slightly after Spike refused Tim’s offer of payment. It had made him soul-sick to realize that the boy thought of himself of value only when he was dispensing sexual favors.

He had smelled the blood immediately after coming into the apartment about a month after he’d brought Tim home from the alley. It was thick and rich, and the scent made his mouth water. Spike found the boy in the bathroom, passed out, the deep laceration on his arm still oozing. The razorblade was still in his left hand.

For a minute, Spike was certain all his hard work had come to naught, that Tim had decided to end his own life. Then he saw the other scars on Tim’s arms—scars that suddenly had a context. It wasn’t death the boy was after.

Working quickly, Spike had bound up the wound, considering and discarding the idea of going to the hospital. Things were settled right now, but neither one of them needed the authorities getting over-involved. Tim had lost quite a bit of blood, but Spike was an expert on such matters, and he knew Tim would recover without requiring a transfusion.

Spike cleaned him up and put him to bed, and then he fought his hunger as he cleaned up the bathroom. There was a small voice in the back of his mind that wondered what it would be like if Tim allowed him to drink from him.

He rejected the idea in the next moment, but the desire still lingered. It was controllable, but being around that much human blood was difficult.

When Tim woke up, Spike knew he’d have to make the boy see reason. He’d have to show him the truth, show him that bleeding that much around a vampire wasn’t smart.

And maybe he’d ask the questions he hadn’t wanted to ask.

~~~~~

Tim ran the dull edge of the razor along the inside of his arm, tracing the outline of the star. He hadn’t cut in a long time—hadn’t felt the need to. Today the desire was back, strong as before, and he sat in the bathroom trying to stifle the urge.

It would be better if he used a tack or a nail. There wouldn’t be as much damage then, and Tim would have half a chance at hiding the injury from Spike. The risk of cutting too deeply with the razor was great; Tim had gotten carried away before.

He’d started cutting when he was thirteen, when the pain was so bad he thought he’d fly apart. There was something inside him that wanted the whole world to see the scars he already bore on the inside. So he’d put them on the outside.

After Tim had been with Spike for a while, things hadn’t seemed so bad; the pain had subsided to something bearable once he’d understood that the vampire wasn’t going to abandon him. And when he had gotten his first tattoo, Tim realized that there was another way to mark his body, something that was a little less self-destructive. Another way to wear the pain.

Now Tim felt as though he was going to come apart again. The pain shouldn’t have been that bad; he’d only just met Dawn after all. But her rejection had touched on old wounds that were yet raw, and Tim felt it again. Felt what it had been like to be left by all those who were supposed to love him. To be rejected by those who were supposed to care for him.

He couldn’t deal with it, and he hated that fact.

“Tim? What—”

Tim glanced up guiltily to see Spike standing in the door. He hadn’t even heard the vampire come in. There was no disappointment on Spike’s face—only a pained knowledge. With a gentle hand, Spike took the razorblade from him. “Let’s get out of here for a while.”

Tim looked down at his empty hands. “Spike, I’m sorry. I didn’t—I wasn’t—”

“’s alright, lad,” Spike said softly. “Think I understand better than you know. Come on, now. Better to get out of here for a while.”

Tim followed Spike, because that was all he knew to do. He didn’t want to start cutting again. Once he started down that road, he knew how hard it would be to stop. He half-heard Spike ordering Luz to stay behind and the dog’s responding whine. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

They walked in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. When Spike finally stopped and Tim looked up, he blinked in surprise. “This is a tattoo shop.”

“Yeah, thought you might need it,” Spike replied, nonchalant. Though he often wished it could be different, Spike did understand Tim’s need for physical pain. It was often easier to deal with than the emotional pain that threatened to overwhelm him.

Tim shook his head. “Spike, I—”

“My treat, lad,” Spike said. “You do what you need to do.”

It felt as though a burden had been lifted from his shoulders, to know that Spike really did understand at a certain level. “Thanks.”

~~~~~

Dawn was furious—at Spike, at Tim, at herself. Knowing that Tara had probably already heard the story, she had refused to return the older woman’s phone calls or go by the Magic Box. Dawn felt hard used. It wasn’t like she’d wanted to hurt Tim’s feelings, or that she’d been trying to be mean. Besides, they didn’t understand what she was going through. How could they?

She didn’t need them, Dawn decided. She was just fine on her own, doing her own thing. Dawn was on her own, after all. She wasn’t relying on anybody for help.

It didn’t help that Dawn received word that she was flunking three out of four of her classes. Not studying for midterms was coming back to bite her in the ass, and there didn’t seem to be any way for her to make it up. If she failed she would lose scholarships, however, and she had no way to pay for school otherwise. It wasn’t as though her dad was going to be any help at all.

She wanted to bury her head in the sand and hope things worked out. Dawn didn’t feel like she could do anything proactive—she felt stuck, as though she’d dug a hole so deep there was no chance she’d ever make it out.

Dawn didn’t want to deal with feeling hopeless.

So, when Alan asked her to go with him to the frat party, Dawn didn’t say no, even though she knew she probably should. He was too grabby—he was pushing her too hard to get physical with him. He made her uncomfortable with his insistence, but Dawn ignored her instincts, wanting just to forget for a while.

Her last thoughts before she blacked out were of regret, which wasn’t foreign to her. It seemed all Dawn had these days were regrets.



Chapter 14

“If you have made mistakes, even serious ones, there is always another chance for you. What we call failure is not the falling down, but the staying down.” ~Mary Pickford

Robbie stepped back and looked at his handiwork. “What do you think, man?”

Tim stared at the fresh tattoo that now adorned the left side of his chest—a bleeding heart wrapped in thorns with one piercing through. “I like it.” He turned his head slightly to look at Spike, who was standing behind him. There were definitely pluses to living in a town like Sunnydale. Robbie hadn’t even blinked at Spike’s lack of a reflection.

At least not after he’d figured out that the vampire wasn’t planning on killing him.

“Looks good,” Spike said quietly, knowing exactly why Tim had chosen the tattoo that he did. The boy wasn’t the only one who felt like his heart was being pierced at times.

Tim nodded, turning back towards the mirror. “It’s good work,” he agreed. “Thanks, Robbie.”

“Anytime,” Robbie replied. “You need any work done while you’re in town, just let me know.

Tim grabbed his shirt, pausing a moment as he looked into the mirror. The mandala on his stomach was one of his own design. That one had taken several trips and a lot of hours. It was a meditation piece that he loved; it was also a tongue in cheek comment on philosophers that Spike often made derisive comments about, but that he enjoyed reading. Tim had said that he’d experienced enough of life so he could contemplate his belly button if he wanted.

The star on his forearm was the first tattoo he’d gotten. Tim hadn’t decided what else to put on that arm yet. The other arm was covered in a full sleeve—a tree moving from one season to the next as it traveled up his arm, beginning in autumn and ending in the full leaf of summer.

There was a Japanese-style tiger across his left shoulder blade, and a full-color dragon up his right leg, both done by the same artist in New York. And Tim wasn’t finished yet.

Tim yanked his shirt over his head, remembering when he’d gotten his first tattoo. At the time, he’d just thought it would be cool. It was his graduation present to himself. It wasn’t until the needle hit skin that Tim had realized what the inking process could do for him.

It was a way to mark his body, to leave a record of his pain along with his triumphs. Tim received the same release through tattooing himself that he had through cutting.

It was also a way to claim membership—to show that he was separate from the larger society before anyone could figure it out and exclude him. It was a way to pull beauty from pain.

“Ready?” Spike raised an eyebrow.

“Sure thing.”

They left the shop in silence, neither quite ready to discuss what Spike had walked in on. Tim had often half-wondered what it would be like to have the vampire feed from him—if he would get the same pain-pleasure that he did from cutting. Tim knew, however, that to ask would be to risk changing their entire relationship, and not for the better.

“You want to tell me what happened?” Spike finally asked as they walked.

Tim sighed. “It—it all came back. Remembering, you know.”

Spike knew, knew how memory could lie in wait. How it could be triggered by something so minor as a familiar scent on a faint breeze and then you would be drowning in the past. “You doin’ okay now?”

“I’m okay,” Tim replied. “Spike—thanks. For going with me and everything. I didn’t think…”

Spike sighed. “I don’t hate them. I know what they mean to you, what they’re for. If it helps you, I’m alright with the tattoos. I just wish you’d told me you were feelin’ that bad.”

“It just hit me out of the blue when I got back to the apartment,” Tim admitted. “It wasn’t just Dawn, it was everything. It was like I was feeling everything again.”

“That’s goin’ to happen, Tim,” Spike said. “It was a part of your life.” He’d never said much about it before, but Spike thought the time might be right. “What I was—what I did—to Buffy an’ to others, before I got the soul, that’s all real. There are moments when I just want to give up, when I don’t want this anymore. There are days when I wish I could carve the soul out of my chest.”

Tim had known none of this. He had always thought of Spike as immovable, so strong as to fear nothing, to not feel pain. Tim had never thought that Spike might understand his pain because he experienced his own, and not just because the vampire had seen him through the worst of it.

It helped to know he wasn’t the only one who was sometimes overwhelmed.

“You ever regret getting the soul?” Tim finally asked. “I mean, if it hurts so much…”

Spike sighed. “Dunno,” he confessed. “There are days when it would be easier if I didn’t have it. Then again, havin’ the soul means ‘m not fightin’ myself so much. Prob’ly doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“No, I guess it does,” Tim said. “Sort of like you can make your own image now that you’re not, I don’t know, just a vampire.” He shrugged. “That probably came out wrong.”

Spike didn’t think that it had. It was rather close to the truth. The soul made it easier for him to not rely upon a label for direction. He could no longer claim to be evil—and he no longer wanted to. Of course, that didn’t mean he’d gone completely soft. “That’s about right,” he said softly. “You’re not in this alone, lad. Not anymore.”

Neither of them was.

~~~~~

When Dawn woke up, she found herself in unfamiliar surroundings, in a strange bed, and her clothes were disarrayed. She also remembered nothing of what had occurred the night before, except that she had gone with Alan to the party he’d invited her to.

Well, she’d had a little too much to drink. That was obvious.

It was when Dawn rose and felt the stickiness between her thighs that she realized what had most likely happened. And she didn’t remember any of it.

There are moments in life when what we have become seems to hit us in the face. Moments when a person realizes exactly what they have made out of their life, what damage they have wrought. When they wake up and realize what’s important—and that they’ve thrown it all away.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Dawn had been drunk in Tim’s presence, and he had been nothing but a gentleman. Maybe she was simply ready to face the fact that she had made a mess of things. Whatever it was, Dawn felt the tears threatening—tears she hadn’t shed since her sister’s funeral, months before.

She took a deep breath, knowing that she probably looked like a complete mess, and not really wanting anyone to see her if she was still in the frat house like she thought.

The party the night before had been big enough—and Dawn had woken early enough—so that she only saw a couple guys on the way out the door. The looks they gave her and one another caused her to feel used and dirty. They probably knew more about what her night had been like than she did, and that was frightening.

Dawn hurried across campus towards her apartment. Thankfully it was only about a block or so away. There were a few early morning joggers out, but few others. Even so, she felt as though she had a big sign painted on her chest, like everyone knew she was a slut.

Buffy and her mom had always told her that sex and love went together. Even though Buffy had never really talked about Spike after he’d left town, Dawn still remembered the look on her sister’s face when his name was mentioned. There had been something there, and Spike had definitely loved Buffy.

Dawn had never thought of herself as the kind of girl who just sleeps with anybody, whenever. She had certainly never thought she would have had sex without remembering it, without even knowing what she was doing.

She’d had a couple boyfriends, slept with a few guys, but there had always been mutual attraction if not affection. Sure she liked to flirt, and some guys might call her a cock-tease, but Dawn didn’t sleep around.

Dawn wasn’t sure who she’d slept with, or if she’d wanted it. Or if she’d been capable of consenting.

Or if someone had put something in her drink.

She made it back to her apartment finally, her head pounding. The emotions she’d been trying to outrun were catching up to her, and she felt the burn of tears again. Almost mindlessly she headed for the shower, wanting to wash the stink of alcohol and sex off her body.

Dawn scrubbed herself until her skin was red, with the water as hot as she could stand. She wasn’t sure she’d ever feel clean again.

Although Dawn wouldn’t have minded a few more hours of sleep, she was too tense to drop off. Instead, she started going through her mail and the scattered papers she’d tossed on the coffee table. The mail was mostly bills, but the papers included the midterms she’d just taken. While Dawn had glanced at the grades, she hadn’t seen the notes that her professors had left. Notes that said she was risking failure in all her classes.

Everything she’d been trying to avoid hit her in the face, and she just couldn’t deal with it. In the end, there was only one person she felt she could go to.

~~~~~

Spike was just getting ready to get some sleep when the frantic knocking came at his door. He was shocked to see Dawn on the other side, tears streaming down her face, hair still wet from a shower. The sight of her so broken had him using her pet name as he hadn’t done since he’d returned to Sunnydale. “Niblet? What’s wrong?”

“I’ve screwed things up so bad, Spike,” she said, tears still falling. “Everything is so messed up. I don’t know what to do.” And then she threw herself into his arms.

Dawn hadn’t touched him up to that point. She had done nothing that indicated she wanted his help or support in any way. Spike had begun to think that they would never manage to rebuild their relationship, and now she was sobbing on his shoulder, shaking so badly he thought she might fly apart.

The commotion brought Tim out to the living room, and their eyes met above Dawn’s head. For a minute, Spike was certain that Tim would simply turn around and walk right back into his room. Instead, the boy called to Luz and headed into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a glass of water.

It was nearly all Spike could do just to get Dawn to sit down on the couch. She was still clinging to him as though she was afraid he would disappear if she lost contact. “Come on, luv,” he urged. “Drink.”

Dawn sipped at the glass, still barely under control. “I’m sorry, Spike,” she said, her voice hitching. “I just—you said I could come to you, and I didn’t know who else…I’ve been so stupid.”

“Want to tell me what happened?” Spike asked quietly. When Dawn glanced over at Tim nervously, the young man stood.

“I can go somewhere for a while,” he said. “Tara’s probably up by now.”

Dawn shook her head. “You don’t have to. I mean, I don’t want to kick you out of your house.”

Tim smiled and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “It’s okay. I think you might be more comfortable if it’s just you and Spike. Give me a minute.”

Dawn nodded, watching him go back into his bedroom. He was out just a few seconds later, completely dressed, with Luz at his heels. “I’ll see you later, Spike,” he said, heading out the door.

When Dawn remained silent, Spike tried again. “What happened, Bit?”

The old name brought back memories that were not entirely welcome. “God, Spike, I’ve been so stupid.”

“I won’t tell you that you haven’t,” he replied, brushing a damp strand of hair out of her face. “But somehow I don’t think that’s what you need to hear.”

Dawn shook her head, unable to meet his eyes. “I went out last night with this guy. I knew I probably shouldn’t, and that he wasn’t a great guy, but I was so mad.”

“Dawn—”

“It’s not your fault,” she assured him, hurrying on. “I know it’s not your fault. It’s just—I didn’t know what else to do, and I hated myself for lying. I wanted to get lost for a while.” She laughed bitterly. “Well, I got lost alright.”

Spike was beginning to get a picture of what had happened, and it wasn’t pretty. “What did he do to you?”

“I don’t know!” Dawn burst out. “That’s just it. I don’t remember anything. I just woke up in the frat house this morning, and I knew—” She couldn’t even say the words out loud, not to Spike. “I just knew what had happened, and I went home and found out I’m flunking all my classes. If I fail this semester, I’m going to lose my loans and my scholarships, Spike. I’ll have to drop out, and then I’m going to be working at the Doublemeat Palace, just like Buffy.”

Dawn’s voice was becoming hysterical. “I’ve screwed it all up,” she whispered. “If Mom or Buffy knew—” Dawn choked back another sob.

Spike, although a little surprised, was not shocked. He’d known that Dawn was playing with fire, but not that she would get burnt this badly. “It’s goin’ to be okay, Dawn,” he said quietly.

She shook her head, unwilling to be comforted. “How? I’m going to flunk out of college, and I just—I don’t even remember! I don’t remember anything!”

Spike held her as she began weeping again, feeling helpless. He had no idea what to say to her, what to do for her. He couldn’t help but think that Tara would have been the better person to comfort the girl, but Dawn had chosen to come to him.

His arms tightened around her. She had chosen him.

~~~~~

Tim was glad he’d chosen to shower the night before, as he’d wanted to get the excess ink off his skin and clean the new tattoo. Otherwise, he’d have been out of luck before going into work.

He sighed. Tim didn’t begrudge Dawn Spike’s comfort. He well remembered sobbing that hard in the vampire’s arms, and as much as he didn’t like her at the moment, a little time had given him some distance. Dawn had lied to him, but his baggage made it more likely that he’d take it hard, and that wasn’t her fault.

Tim had his own theories on what had happened. From the couple nights he’d spent with Dawn, he knew that she was on the verge of hitting rock bottom. Tim was also well aware what kinds of risks Dawn had probably been taking. He had taken similar risks himself in the past, and he knew how dangerous it could be.

Tara answered the door at his first knock. “Tim? Is everything okay?”

“I think so,” Tim replied, entering once she stepped aside with Luz following. “Dawn showed up at our door this morning really upset. Spike’s taking care of her.”

Tara wasn’t all that surprised that Dawn had gone to Spike. She had known that if Dawn would just let herself reach out, the vampire would probably be the one she would go to. “Are you okay with that?”

Tim looked surprised. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I wouldn’t blame you if your anger with Dawn affected how you felt about Spike helping her,” Tara said quietly.

Tim frowned, sitting down at the kitchen table. “No, I mean, I knew if something happened with Dawn she’d come first.”

Tara poured a cup of coffee for him. “Spike isn’t placing Dawn first, Tim.”

“I know that,” Tim said quietly. “Spike told me he wasn’t going to ditch me or anything. It’s just that she needs him right now. I get that.”

Tara rested a hand on his shoulder. “I think Dawn might need you as well, sweetie. I’m not saying you should forgive her, but—”

“I’m not that angry anymore,” Tim replied quietly. “I get why she did it.” He sighed. “About a year after I started living with Spike, I got into a fight at school. It was over something stupid. Some guy called me a fag, and I guess I was just scared that people would find out that I’d turned tricks, or maybe that they already knew.” Tim looked up at her. “I know what it’s like to be that angry, and to do stupid stuff.”

The woman sat down next to him. “That’s a very mature attitude to take.”

He shrugged. “It’s reality. If you’ve been down at the bottom, you kind of owe it to other people to help them up.” Tim laughed. “Besides, Spike and I have one thing in common for sure.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re both Love’s bitch.”



Chapter 15

“Hope is the feeling you have that the feeling you have isn’t permanent.” ~Jean Kerr

Spike was trembling with rage by the time Dawn finally fell asleep. He put her in his bed and then left a note saying he was going to the store in case she woke. There was no way he was going to let her believe he’d left her again.

Someone had taken advantage of her; of that much he was certain. No matter how foolish Dawn had been, she hadn’t been capable of consenting to sex—or anything else. Based on what she had told him, the vampire had to wonder if someone hadn’t slipped something into her drink.

He stopped a few times to punch the sewer walls, barking up his knuckles but releasing little of his rage. When he emerged inside the Magic Box, both Tara and Tim were talking quietly. “I wondered when you were going to show up,” Tara said quietly. “What happened?”

Spike quickly told them both what had happened. “Dunno what we can do about her classes,” he confessed. “If she’s failing—”

“I think I might be able to help,” Tara said. “If Dawn and I go talk to her professors, we might be able to get them to cut her some slack.”

Spike scowled. “’m more interested in findin’ the guy that—” He couldn’t finish.

“Maybe we should think about calling the police,” Tara suggested. “Even if Dawn doesn’t remember, they could find out what happened. Surely someone saw something.”

“No cops,” Tim said quietly. “Maybe if Dawn wants it, but I don’t think we should call them. You know they’re just going to dig into her personal life. Even if they did find out what happened, it’s going to be he-said, she-said, and they’re going to drag her through the mud.”

Both Spike and Tara frowned. “Whoever he is, he’s not gonna get away with it,” Spike growled.

“I’m not saying he should,” Tim replied. “I’m just saying that the courts aren’t the way to go. If it even got that far, you know what a jury would do to her.”

Tara closed her eyes briefly, hating the reality behind Tim’s words, but knowing he was right. A lawyer would dig up every dirty secret, every boyfriend, every wild party that she’d attended, and in the end he would say that it was Dawn’s fault for putting herself in harm’s way. The worst part was a lot of people would buy that argument, because it let them believe that the universe was an orderly place. Good things happened to good people, and bad things happened to bad people.

Even though they all knew that life wasn’t that simple.

“Tim’s right,” Tara stated. “If Dawn wants to go to the police, that’s one thing, but it’s not a decision we can make for her.”

Spike’s eyes glittered. “I wasn’t plannin’ on goin’ to the cops anyway.”

“Spike—” Tara warned.

The vampire didn’t care to listen. “If he’s done this to Dawn, chances are he’ll do it to some other girl. ‘m not goin’ to let that happen, Glinda. I can’t.”

The witch bit her lip. There was a part of her that agreed with Spike, that wanted to find the best castrating spell available and try it out. There was another part of her that acknowledged that things didn’t always work that way, that justice was not always done. Sometimes people got away with things they should not get away with, and vigilante justice was not the answer.

And yet hadn’t the Scoobies taken matters into their own hands a time or two? Was it really so wrong?

“I want you to keep me informed, Spike,” she finally said. “I won’t try to stop you or anything, but I’m involved, and I need to know what you’re going to do.” She turned to look at Tim. “Would you watch the shop? I think maybe I should be there when Dawn wakes up.”

“She’ll need you,” Tim agreed quietly. “You should go.”

Spike watched as Tara hurried out into the bright sunlight. “This doesn’t mean I’m abandoning you, lad.”

“I know,” Tim said. “She needs you more than I do right now.”

Spike turned wounded eyes back to the boy. “What the hell am I supposed to do? I swore to protect her, an’ here—”

“Dawn screwed up, Spike,” Tim said bluntly. “No, she didn’t deserve it, and she didn’t ask for it, but she put herself into a bad spot. Dawn didn’t have anybody watching her back. It’s going to be hard on her, but she’ll pull though.”

Spike’s jaw clenched. “I should have been able to stop it.”

“You can’t stop every bad thing that happens in this world, Spike,” Tim shot back. “Life is just really shitty sometimes.”

There was more truth to Tim’s statement than Spike wanted to accept. His soul hated the ugliness of the world; that much hadn’t changed from his days of being human. The man he had been had buried himself in poetry to avoid looking at it. What he had become meant that he had fewer moral restrictions on what he could do.

Some things couldn’t be changed.

Spike swore harshly, the anger within demanding to be loosed somehow. “He’s gonna pay.”

“And when you find him, I’ll be happy to join you,” Tim replied. “Because you’re right. He shouldn’t get away with this.”

~~~~~

Tara didn’t have to wait too long for Dawn to wake up. The girl came stumbling out of Spike’s bedroom about a half hour after she arrived, stopping at the sight of Tara. “Hey, Tara,” Dawn said, sounding wary. “What are you doing here?”

“Spike thought you might need me,” Tara replied. “How are you feeling?”

“Stupid,” Dawn said, her bottom lip trembling again.

Tara rose and embraced the girl, smoothing her hair back in a soothing motion. “It’s going to be okay, Dawnie. We’re going to get this figured out.”

“How, Tara?” Dawn asked.

Tara wasn’t quite sure herself. “I don’t know, sweetie. It’s probably going to take a while, but you’re going to work this out.” She led Dawn over to the couch. “You want to tell me what’s been going on?”

Dawn had refused to talk about things up till now, but the weight of her silence hung on her like stones. The words—and the pain—came tumbling out. “After—after Buffy died, I just couldn’t deal with it, you know?” She laid her head against Tara’s shoulder, needing the contact. “School didn’t feel important anymore, and I just needed to forget for a while. And then it felt so good to forget, I didn’t want to remember again, and it just kept going.”

Tara could relate. She’d pulled some fairly stupid stunts herself after her mom had died. Left alone without any support from her family, Tara had gone wild—drinking, smoking anything she could get her hands on, performing dangerous rituals, sleeping with random guys. All of that had left an indelible mark on her, and while Tara had recovered to a large extent, she remembered the pain of those days clearly.

“What happened last night?”

Dawn sighed. “I went to a party with this guy, Alan. I don’t remember what happened exactly. I think maybe I drank too much, but I don’t know.”

Tara was quiet. “Do you think you were drugged?”

“I don’t know,” Dawn replied. “I really don’t, Tara.”

Tara hugged the girl. “Do you think you could eat something?”

Dawn smiled tremulously. “Yeah, I’m really hungry.”

Tara managed to find some canned soup and the makings for sandwiches. “You might want to think about going to the doctor, Dawn,” she said.

Dawn blinked back tears. “Tara—”

Tara sat down next to her, making eye contact. “You need to get tested to make sure you’re okay, and I think you should make sure you weren’t drugged. If you were, that changes things.”

“I don’t want to talk to the police,” Dawn said quickly. “I just—I don’t think I can.”

“Okay,” Tara replied calmly. “That’s up to you, Dawnie.”

Dawn looked at her, eyes wide. “Would you go to the doctor with me, Tara?”

The woman put an arm around her shoulders. “Whatever you need.”

~~~~~

It had been a very long day. Tara had managed to get Dawn an appointment at the women’s clinic in town, where she normally went for her own physical exams. The doctor had been very warm and understanding, prescribing Dawn emergency contraceptives to reduce the risk of pregnancy and giving her information on getting tested for STDs. She had assured both of them that she could run a urine screen for any traces of rohypnol or GHB, which would give them a better idea of what had happened.

The doctor had also given Dawn the phone number for a therapist, suggesting that she might need to talk to someone.

The last thing Dawn wanted to do was to tell one more person about what had happened. She felt ashamed enough already. In the end, she managed to convince Tara to let her go home by herself. The witch reluctantly agreed on the condition that Dawn call her if she needed her, for any reason at all.

When Tara arrived home, she slumped at her kitchen table, exhausted. She felt her own measure of guilt for what had happened. She had seen Dawn foundering, and now Tara wondered if there wasn’t something else she could have done. Shouldn’t she have tried harder to get the girl to listen to reason? Was there something she might have said, stories from her own past to share? Had she truly done her best, or had Dawn’s actions finally pushed her to the point where she was too exasperated to try again?

Had she set Spike up for another load of guilt by asking him to take care of Dawn?

The summer that Buffy had been gone, they had all been busy with their own burdens of grief. Although Tara had cared for Buffy, she hadn’t been as close to the Slayer as the others. She had looked after Dawn as best she could, but much of her energy had been spent on Willow, and on recovering from Glory’s brain-suck. The sense of being incomplete, of having something missing had lasted long after Willow had managed to heal her.

In the end, it had been largely Spike who had dealt with the girl’s grief, who had sat with her in the long evenings. It had been the vampire who helped them keep Sunnydale from being overrun by demons or vampires. Spike who had been the only one capable of eliciting laughter from Dawn.

Spike, whom they had treated like shit as soon as Buffy returned.

Tara supposed she was as guilty of that as the rest of them. She’d had so little experience with the vampire before he’d received the chip that she had less baggage to work through, and therefore had a better ability to acknowledge the strides he had made in becoming a better man.

She’d tried to help when Buffy had come to her, spilling her secrets of her sexual encounters with the vampire. Tara knew that she might have done better, but again she’d been caught up with Willow—or being away from Willow.

That, and the vampire had always made her just a little nervous.

Tara sighed. It didn’t do any good to sit around blaming herself for what she might have done. There was no way of knowing whether or not she would have been able to make a difference back then. Just as there was no way of knowing whether or not she’d given up on Dawn too early. It was just as true that by pushing harder Dawn might have run further, and gotten herself into an even more dangerous situation, from which she might not have walked away.

The message light on her answering machine was blinking, and Tara hit the play button. Tim’s voice came through the speaker. “Hey, Tara. I just thought I’d let you know that Spike’s planning on coming over to your place tonight. I think you should keep him there if you can. Otherwise, he might do something he’ll regret.”

Tara hit delete and started making herself some tea. She wasn’t hungry—she was too tired to be hungry tonight. She was drinking her second cup when the knock came. “Spike?”

“It’s me, luv,” he replied, opening the front door. “I take it Tim let you know I was coming. Is Dawn here?”

Tara shook her head. “No, she wanted some time alone. I made her promise to call if she needed anything. And, yes, Tim called to let me know you were coming. He said you should probably stay here tonight.”

“I can’t,” Spike said, his voice flat. “The longer we let this go, the less chance we have of catchin’ the bastard.”

Tara shook her head. “Normally, I might agree with you, but it was a big party, Spike. Letting it go another day isn’t going to hurt anything, and it might keep you from doing something rash.”

“I don’t plan on bein’ rash,” Spike replied. His voice was calm, dangerously so. “I plan on bein’ real methodical ‘bout this.”

Tara got the sense that Spike planned on doing some serious damage, but he didn’t have all the details yet. “Wait for the doctor’s results,” she urged. “Once we know whether or not Dawn was drugged, we’ll have a better idea of what happened.”

“He took advantage of her!” Spike protested. “She didn’t even have the chance to say no, or fight back.”

“This isn’t about you and Buffy,” Tara replied.

Spike stared at her as though she’d struck him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re feeling guilty because you didn’t stop what happened to Dawn,” Tara replied. “I know, because I’m feeling the same. But you didn’t cause this. You didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“What does it have to do with Buffy an’ me?” Spike demanded. “That was a long time ago, an’—”

“You still feel guilty.”

Somehow she’d hit the nail on the head, Spike realized. His own guilt for what had happened in Buffy’s bathroom was leeching into his feelings over what had been done to Dawn. “I feel like it’s my fault.” Spike’s voice was hoarse. “What I said to her—she was so bloody angry. If I hadn’t said those things, she never would have—” He looked over at Tara. “What have I done?”

“It wasn’t you,” Tara responded. She grabbed his hand, hoping the contact would emphasize her words. “Dawn chose to go to that party, just like someone else chose to be a bastard. We can’t always help what other people do, Spike.”

“Can’t we?” Spike asked. “Then what bloody use are we, Tara? What bloody use am I?”

The kiss was meant to comfort. It was meant to show support and affection and love. He returned it gently, and then pulled back. “Tara, I—”

She cut him off with her hand. “Don’t say it. Don’t apologize.”

“’m not sorry,” he replied. “’less it changes—this. Whatever this is.”

“Do we have to define it?” Tara asked quietly. “Can we just let it be?”

Spike rested his forehead against hers. “Didn’t think you liked blokes.”

“I don’t.” She smiled gently. “But I like you.”

He laughed. “I won’t do anythin’ stupid tonight, Tara. Promise. But once we know for sure, I’m goin’ to hunt the bastard down.”

Tara nodded. “I understand, Spike. Just—stay here tonight, please? I think we both need to not feel alone.”

“I’ve been alone for a long time, luv,” he replied.

“Me too,” she said. “But I don’t want that tonight.”

“Right.” Spike’s fingers brushed her hair away from her face gently. “Then I’ll stay.”

Tara grasped his hand. “Will you stay with me?”

Spike suddenly realized exactly what she was asking. “I don’t—Are you sure, Tara? I don’t want to—”

“You’re not taking advantage of me in my vulnerable state,” Tara said with a small smile. “I need to be held tonight, Spike.”

With a touch and a question, Tara had managed to cool his rage. She was right; they needed more information before any action could be taken. Although Spike’s first reaction had been to go out and hunt down each and every male who had been at the party, it was a hot-headed and foolish impulse. Most likely, he’d end up regretting it later.

The last thing Spike needed were more regrets.

Spike swallowed hard, then nodded. “If you’re sure.”

“I told you I liked you,” Tara replied, a mysterious smile gracing her features. She led him to her bedroom.

Spike suddenly felt shy. “Can I—can we just sleep, luv? I don’t—”

Feeling uncharacteristically bold, Tara caught his mouth in a kiss again. She’d kissed guys before, of course, in the midst of her rebellious period after her mother’s death. Kissing Spike was a little different, however. For one thing, he was better at it. More than that, Tara knew this man’s heart, and it was one she loved.

The kiss was to reassure him—to let Spike know that she wasn’t going to change her mind about this. Tara wasn’t quite sure when things had changed between them, but they had. He had become beautiful to her.

“Still want to sleep?”

Spike chuckled, tasting her lips again. “Yeah, actually I do, although ‘m startin’ to question my sanity. I want us both to be sure.”

Tara knew it was his wounds talking—that Buffy’s continual hot and cold routine had cast doubt on every other woman’s motives. They had both had a long, emotional day. It was probably better to wait.

Although Tara knew exactly what she wanted.

“Be sure, Spike,” Tara replied, pulling him with her onto the bed. They held each other, and Tara felt a deep peace settle into her bones, like she hadn’t known for a very long time.

Spike waited until she slept before whispering, “Love you.”



Chapter 16

“We are healed of suffering only by experiencing it in the full.” ~Marcel Proust

This was what Tara had missed most. Spike still slept, his head buried in the crook of her neck, one arm tossed carelessly over her waist. She had missed the feeling of waking up next to someone, of feeling safe in their arms. It was strange that it would be Spike who could make her feel safe, but Tara had long ago learned to accept strangeness.

They did live on a Hellmouth, after all.

She brought a hand up to touch his face, having felt the faint stirrings that indicated he was waking up. Spike groaned and shifted. “Not time to get up, is it?”

“I have to open the shop today,” Tara replied apologetically. “But you can sleep as long as you want.”

The early signs of a pout crossed Spike’s face. “Don’t want you to leave,” he protested. “You’re all warm an’ soft. An’ you smell nice.”

It was possibly the oddest string of compliments Tara had ever received, but she found herself blushing in pleasure anyway. She ran a hand through his hair in response. “How come you still bleach your hair?”

“You don’t like it?” he asked, although his careless tone informed Tara that in this case her opinion probably didn’t matter to him.

Tara smiled. “No, it suits you. I just wondered why you do it.”

“Habit, I s’pose,” Spike replied. “An’ it still goes with the image.”

Tara wasn’t sure what image he was talking about, or what he was trying to protect. The Big Bad was long gone, replaced by something softer, though still dangerous. “What image?” she teased.

Spike might have replied in kind, but he was caught by her pose. She leaned over him where he laid, her dark blonde hair falling around her face. Her lush curves pressed up against him—she looked wanton, like a goddess. “You’re so beautiful.”

There was love in his eyes—love and naked desire. Tara’s breath caught in her throat as Spike reached up to trace the line of her shoulder, down her arm, barely brushing her breast. It sent a wave of heat through her body. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at her with that expression in their eyes.

“So are you,” she replied quietly, dipping her head to catch his lips with hers. Their kiss was not quite as gentle this time around. There was hunger behind it—they were both the devourer and the devoured.

When Tara pulled back to catch her breath, there was awe in Spike’s eyes. “Why are you doin’ this?” he asked, raw need in his voice.

Tara knew what it was to be wounded by a person. She had walked away from Willow believing that she was doing the right thing for both of them, but that didn’t mean it had been easy. It would have been easier if she could have hated Willow, or even if she had been able to despise her. But she had walked away loving her just as much then as she had before the magic-use had gotten out of hand.

Tara realized that Buffy had broken him. The Slayer had managed to reduce Spike to his basest urges. What Buffy had not realized was that it had been the man she’d destroyed, not the demon. The man had been there long before Spike had gone in search of his soul.

Tara brushed feather-light kisses down his face in response. “I’m doing this because I love you.”

It was impossible. Spike was certain he hadn’t heard her right. No one loved him back—except possibly for lost children and dogs. “You’re—” He stopped as he saw the truth of it in her eyes. “You’re serious.”

“Do you really think I’d say it if I wasn’t?”

The hurt in her tone was real, and Spike hastened to reassure her. “No, luv, it’s just—” He stopped. “You love me.”

Tara smiled. He sounded so blown away, like she’d just handed him the moon on a platter. “I do.”

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Spike asked.

With one last kiss, Tara disentangled herself. “I know.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“More than okay.”

Spike propped himself up on an elbow, watching as she grabbed a robe to go shower. “Tara—”

“Get some more sleep, Spike,” she replied softly. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to change my mind.”

And Spike was content to sleep in Tara-scented sheets.

~~~~~

Dawn spoke with all four of her professors on her own. Even though Tara had offered to accompany her, the girl had refused. It might have been stupid, but she really wanted to get herself out of this mess on her own, or at least with minimal assistance.

It could have been worse, she supposed. Two of her professors said they would let her take the midterm over again. They had been very understanding about her difficulties in dealing with her grief. The other professors had been kind, but firm. She had blown the midterm, and they didn’t give out second chances. On the other hand, they had each offered to let Dawn do an extra project for their class. It meant a lot more work, but she had a chance to pull her grades up.

It didn’t look like she’d have time to go out anytime soon, and Spring Break was officially canceled for her.

On the other hand, Dawn didn’t think she wanted to go out, or see anyone, or talk to anyone. She was incredibly apprehensive about running into Alan or any of the other people she’d gone to the party with. The anxiety didn’t lessen when she got the call from the doctor on the results from the tests.

She’d been drugged. And then she’d been raped.

And she remembered none of it.

The words seemed so cold, so stark, especially in light of the fact that it was a blank.

There was nothing there.

Except the tears that wouldn’t seem to stop.

~~~~~

Tim had no idea what he was doing. It wasn’t like he and Dawn were on the best of terms. The girl had Spike and Tara looking out for her now, so she didn’t need someone else making the rounds. He should just leave her alone.

Except he’d been where she was—sick with shame and angry at the events that had led up to it. Like he’d told Tara, those who had been at the bottom had a duty to help others who were suffering.

Dawn opened the door after the third time he knocked, after he’d called through the door. “Come on, Dawn. I know you’re in there. It’s Tim.”

The door swung open slowly. Dawn’s eyes were red and swollen. She looked horrible.

Tim’s heart melted. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She couldn’t even manage a smile. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “I thought I’d come by and see how things were.” Shuffling his feet slightly, he looked over her shoulder. “I brought mochas.”

Dawn noticed the cardboard carrier he held in his hand for the first time and felt the tears threaten again. “Come in.”

Tim followed her inside, handing her one of the cups when she’d shut the door. “You doing okay?”

“Really not,” Dawn replied. “But—thanks. I mean, I don’t understand,” she confessed. “I thought you hated me.”

“Hate’s a strong word,” Tim replied, trying for levity. “Pissed as hell would be a lot closer.”

A flush rose to her cheeks. “Tim, I’m sorry. Really sorry. I just—”

“Drop it.”

“But, I—”

“I mean it,” he said firmly, but his voice was kind. “Look, Dawn, we didn’t get off to the best of starts. I thought maybe we could start over.”

Dawn didn’t understand. She hadn’t been very nice to him. She should be the one asking to make a fresh start, and instead he was offering one to her with no prodding. His kindness undid her.

Tim watched her tears start to flow again, remembering well when the smallest kindness Spike showed had been enough to start him off. He hadn’t thought he deserved it, and that made it the more precious. Taking the cup from her hand, Tim pulled her into a hug. Dawn stiffened, then relaxed, burying her face in his t-shirt.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Why are you being so nice?”

Tim pulled back slightly to look her in the eyes. “First, because we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other whether we want to or not. It might be nicer if we actually want to.”

Sensing that there was more to the story, Dawn prompted, “And second?”

“Second, because I’ve been where you are now.” The girl might have protested that there was no way he could understand, but then she snapped her mouth shut at the look on his face. It had taken a lot of courage just for Tim to say that much, and she suddenly sensed that.

Dawn had made a vow to be more sensitive. This seemed to be a good time to start. “Thanks.”

Tim relaxed as he realized that she wasn’t going to ask questions, nor was she going to debate him on the issue. “You’re welcome.” He sat down on her couch. “I think Tara’s making dinner tonight. I told her I’d try and convince you to come.”

“That would be good,” Dawn said quietly, sitting next to him. She both wanted to be alone and detested the chaos of her own thoughts. It was hard for her to concentrate in the empty apartment. Her mind kept wanting to replay the events of the previous night, trying to fill in the gaps that refused to be filled.

“You hear from the doctor?”

Dawn was silent for a moment, leaving Tim to think that she wasn’t going to reply. “They called earlier.” The silence stretched on. “Roofies.”

“Oh.” Tim’s face grew pinched, knowing what that meant. Dawn had been stupid, but anybody could be a little careless and accept a drugged drink. You could even be really careful and accept a drugged drink. It shed a different light on things.

Spike was going to go ape-shit.

“I just feel like such an idiot,” Dawn muttered. “I mean, I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I knew Alan was a jerk.” She turned to look at him. “I was safe with you, but—”

Tim shrugged slightly. “Spike would have kicked my ass if I’d let something happen to you,” he reminded her. “And I’m not that kind of guy.”

“No, you’re not.” Dawn rubbed at her eyes, which were sore and tired. She needed to study, get busy on all that stuff that hadn’t seemed important just a few days before.

Tim reached over with a tentative hand and patted her on the back. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m not going to the police, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dawn said irritably. “Maybe if—no one’s going to be able to prove it was Alan. If it was Alan. I can’t even say, ‘Yeah, that’s the guy who raped me.’”

“You have to do what you think is best,” Tim replied softly. “No matter what anybody else says, you have to make your own decision on this.”

Dawn gave him a grateful look. “Thank you.” She sighed. “Spike’s going to go crazy, isn’t he?”

“Hopefully Tara will keep him from going too far off the deep end,” Tim replied. “But that’s definitely a possibility.”

~~~~~

Tara had given Spike a long talk about how pressing Dawn for details would be a very bad thing, ending in a warning about doing something rash. Spike wasn’t actually planning on doing anything rash or impulsive. No, he was going to take his time, find out exactly who had hurt Dawn, and then he was going to flay them alive. Slowly.

It might even take a couple of days.

The soul gave him a small twinge at the thought, but Spike ignored it. There were some things that the soul did not have a say over, and taking care of those he loved was one of them. No one hurt someone he called his.

No one.

Well, he probably wouldn’t do any flaying, Spike admitted to himself. It was a satisfying thought, but a little too messy. What he would do was make sure the wanker didn’t do it again. A certain amount of regret for past actions was a necessary corollary. Pain was a nice prod.

Speaking of prods…

“Don’t even think about it,” Tara warned him as she finished her dinner preparations.

Spike gave her his most innocent look. “Think about what?”

“You have a soul, Spike,” Tara reminded him. “You might actually be able to do something you’d regret.”

“Didn’t need a soul for that,” Spike muttered. “Just want to make sure he doesn’t do it again.”

“We don’t know the whole story.” Tara gave him a firm pat on the arm. “Exercise some patience.”

“Whoever said patience was a virtue didn’t know anythin’,” he grumbled, but didn’t argue. Spike would heed her words for now.

The evening was much more subdued than their previous get-together had been. After Dawn shared the results of the test, and once again insisted on not going to the authorities, no one knew what to say. The others were struggling with their own emotions and painful memories too fiercely to know just what to say. Even Tara seemed at a loss, so they talked about random things and tried to avoid the elephant in the room.

When the girl announced her desire to go home, Spike stood immediately. “I’ll walk you.”

“Spike—” The vampire turned to look at Tara. “Be careful.”

They walked in silence. “I’m goin’ to get him,” Spike finally said after a while, his words short and clipped.

“Don’t.”

“Dawn—”

“I was stupid, Spike, and there’s no way to know for sure who it was.”

“I don’t know about that,” Spike growled. “I can think of a few ways.”

Dawn was quiet. “I just want it all to go away, like it never happened.”

“That’s not possible.”

“I know that.” She took in a deep, hitching breath, letting it out on a shaky laugh. “I won’t ask you not to investigate. And I’m not going to ask you not to go after him, because I know you probably would anyway. Just don’t do him any lasting damage, okay?” Dawn asked. “Maybe he deserves it, but if I—”

“This wasn’t your fault, Dawn!” Spike exploded. “He drugged you!”

“And I went to the party with Alan when I knew better,” Dawn replied stubbornly. “I wasn’t careful. I—”

“You nothing!” he hissed, his eyes intent. “No one asks for that kind of shit, Niblet. No one puts themselves in that position. It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Just like Mom and Buffy shouldn’t have died?” Dawn asked quietly. “Shit happens, Spike.”

“Doesn’t mean it should,” he replied, just as stubbornly. “You’re prob’ly right. If we left this up to the police, they’d botch it up real good. You’d end up hurt worse than you already are. I’m just goin’ to make sure that bastard knows he messed with the wrong girl.”

Dawn was silent for a long moment. “If you find out what really happened,” she began softly, “I need to know.”

Spike let out a deep, unneeded breath. “You got it.”



Chapter 17

“Revenge is a kind of wild justice, which the more man’s nature run to the more ought law to weed it out.” ~Sir Francis Bacon

“I need to find out what happened,” Spike said without preamble when he arrived back at the apartment to find Tim already there.

Tim looked up from the book he’d been reading, Luz’s head resting on his thigh as she looked up at him lovingly. “Okay.”

“You think you could get into one of those parties, suss out what went on?” Spike asked.

Tim was surprised that Spike was including him on his vengeance trip. “Possibly, but why me?”

“Because you’re of an age to pass for a student,” Spike replied. “I go in there, an’ they’re gonna know somethin’ is up.”

That was true enough. If Spike started asking questions, it would be fairly obvious that he wanted answers for a specific reason, and that could shut people up real quick. “What are you going to do?”

Spike simply gave him a look, and Tim sighed. He understood Spike’s desire for blood, and had a hard time blaming the vampire. Spike had killed his attackers, but that had been in the heat of the moment, and Tim had no doubt that the men would have killed him when they were done. This could end up being cold-blooded murder, however, and that was a different story.

“Look, Spike, I’ll do what I can, but I’m not going to make any promises,” Tim said. “I have no idea if I’ll be able to find anything.”

Spike shrugged. “You have a better chance than I do. Just don’t do anythin’ rash, yeah?”

Tim laughed. “Look who’s talking.”

~~~~~

Dawn found it nearly impossible to stay in her apartment. The emptiness seemed to shout at her. Left to her own devices, all she seemed able to do was to berate herself for getting into such a predicament, and the epithets running through her head were harsh and unforgiving.

In the end, she went to the Magic Box to study for a while, knowing that Tara wouldn’t mind. The blonde witch actually seemed pleased to see her, and Dawn settled in for a long afternoon of studying. She only had another couple days before the retakes were scheduled.

Tim ambled through the door a few minutes after she arrived. “How’s it going, Dawn?”

“Good,” she replied. “I’m getting some studying done, anyway.”

They both left her alone after that, and Dawn found herself getting lost in her work. This was what she should have been doing, she thought. She should have been burying herself in her schoolwork, rather than trying to numb the pain with alcohol and parties. It would have been a lot safer, that was for sure.

“Here.” Dawn glanced up to see Tim set a sack next to her elbow. “Tara said you’d probably be hungry.”

She sat up, easing stiff muscles. “Thanks. Are—are you going out tonight?”

“Thought I might,” Tim replied. He left it at that, not extending an invitation.

Dawn bit her lip. She would have refused had he asked her to come along anyway. The last thing she really wanted to do was to go to another party, even with Tim, where she knew she’d be safe. Still, she couldn’t help but remember the easy camaraderie from the night they’d gone to the movies together, and Dawn wondered if they’d ever get that back.

“What are you going to do tonight?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Probably more studying. I’ve got those retakes in a couple days, plus the reading I haven’t been doing, plus the extra projects, and all the regular work.”

Tim frowned. “Spring break is next week.”

“Spring break got canceled if you’re me,” she replied wryly.

Tim smiled at her encouragingly. “Well, you can’t work all week,” he said. “We’ll have to go to the movies or something again.”

Hope flared in Dawn’s heart. She was sorely feeling the need for a friend. “That would be cool.”

~~~~~

“You want to crash a frat party?” Meredith said incredulously.

Tim shook his head. “No, I’d rather have an invitation actually.”

The girl gave him a look. “You’re going to stick out like a sore thumb, Tim,” she pointed out. “No one is going to believe you belong there.”

Tim grinned at her. “You’d be surprised at how well I clean up. Do you think you can help?”

“I have a friend who rushed,” Meredith finally said slowly. “She might need a date, since I don’t think she’s seeing anybody right now. But why would you even want to go? You’re not in college, and there are plenty of better parties to go to.”

Tim hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much. “Have you heard any rumors about these frat guys using roofies?”

Meredith stared at him. “Roofies? What—” A knowing look passed over her face. “You’re looking for information.”

“There was some stuff that happened,” Tim replied reluctantly. “Somebody slipped something into a friend’s drink. I want to find out who.”

Meredith had a good idea of who Tim was talking about, since none of their crowd went in for the Greek parties, preferring to throw their own. “I didn’t think you guys were friends.”

Tim sighed, knowing that Meredith had a good idea of what had happened, and hating that he was spilling Dawn’s secrets without asking. “Meredith—”

“I’m not going to say anything,” she quickly assured him. “Let me call my friend.” Meredith sighed. “If these guys are using rohypnol—” Her lips tightened. Whatever her opinion of Dawn might be—and Meredith was fairly certain that Dawn was the friend in question—roofies weren’t something to sneeze at. If some guy was using a pill to take what he wanted, every gullible young co-ed would be vulnerable.

Tim watched Meredith as she spoke with her friend on the phone, his estimation of her steadily rising. She was one tough chick, and he smiled as he listened in to her conversation. “No, Emily, he’s a good guy, and this isn’t a pity date. He’s checking out something for me.” She looked back over her shoulder and gave him a grin. Tim appreciated the lengths to which she was going to protect Dawn. “I heard there was a guy using rohypnol. I’m doing a story for the school paper.”

There was a long pause. “Friday? Yeah, you can meet him here.” Meredith hung up the phone. “I hope you didn’t have any other plans for Friday.”

“Investigating a bunch of frat guys is exactly what I wanted to do with my night,” Tim said sarcastically. “And what’s this about the school paper?”

Meredith smiled grimly. “I write articles for the campus paper, Tim. This would make a great story.”

He looked at her, alarmed. “You can’t—”

“You haven’t given me any details, remember? I’ll keep whatever conclusions I draw to myself. She shrugged. “Of course, if you do get evidence that someone is using drugs at this party, then I’m free to print that.” Meredith gave him a look that was—if he wasn’t mistaken—just a little vengeful. “I can completely ruin his reputation. Make sure that no girl on campus ever trusts him enough to go out with him again.”

A knowing look crossed Tim’s face. “You—”

“A friend of mine,” Meredith replied. “This kind of thing isn’t nearly as uncommon as people want to believe. I want to make sure that no one has the opportunity or the desire to do it again on this campus.”

~~~~~

Tara was looking at Spike suspiciously. “You’re not going out tonight?”

Spike frowned. “Why should I? You’re stayin’ in.”

“What about Dawn?” she pressed.

“Figured you were right,” he replied nonchalantly. “It’s better just to wait things out.”

Tara sat down next to him on her couch. He was flipping through the channels and not looking at her, and she reached over and grabbed the remote, turning off the TV. “Don’t lie to me.”

“You have a problem being right?” he asked, amused, his expression innocent.

She gave him a dirty look. “Don’t lie to me, Spike, and don’t shut me out. I told you I wanted to know what was going on, no matter what it was.”

Spike wouldn’t quite meet her eyes. “’m not lyin’. I’m waitin’ until I have all the facts, just like you said I should. There a problem with that?”

“No,” Tara said. “But you’ve never been known for your patience, Spike.”

He sighed, slumping against the back of the couch. “Look, luv, I know you don’t want me to go kill anybody, an’ I promised Dawn I wouldn’t do any lastin’ damage, alright? ‘m goin’ to be careful.”

“I didn’t say you wouldn’t, sweetie,” Tara replied softly. “So how are you getting the information?”

Spike glanced over at her, then admitted. “Tim’s goin’ undercover for me Friday night. He managed to finagle an invitation to a party at the same house Dawn was at. Hopefully, Tim’ll find out the whole story, an’ we can go from there.”

Tara blinked in surprise. She honestly hadn’t thought Spike would let things go that long, or that he would allow Tim to do any of the reconnaissance work for him. To the contrary, she’d expected the vampire to cry vengeance and start hunting people down.

She thought she would have to rein him in.

At her expression, Spike pushed himself up off the couch angrily. “I can control myself, Glinda. Might not always care about what’s lawful, but I want to do what’s right. Won’t do to go attackin’ some kid who didn’t do anythin’.”

“Spike—”

“’m not some animal,” he continued, as though he hadn’t heard her. “I’m not the most patient of blokes, yeah, but you could say that ‘bout a lot of people. That’s why I got this bloody soul—wanted to be able to control myself.”

“I know you’ve changed,” Tara said, when he finally seemed to be winding down.

Spike gave her a hard look. “Do you?” he challenged. “Or do you think that whatever I do, ‘s gonna be too much because Spike’s a monster.”

“I never said you were a monster,” Tara replied, steel in her own tone. “If you did this—if you hurt someone, it wouldn’t be because there’s a demon in you. It would be because of the man.”

Her words rocked him back a step. It was the truth. It had been what he’d always asked Buffy to see—that what he felt nearly always came from the humanity that had somehow always resided inside him, not the demon.

Spike the man had loved the Slayer first. It had taken his demon a little longer to climb on board.

“Tara—”

It was her turn to interrupt. “No, Spike. You keep assuming that I’m going to feel something for you based on what Buffy felt for you. I’m not the Slayer. I’m not going to run from this. You forget that I’ve loved someone who could be scary before, someone who didn’t always walk on the right side of the line.”

“You left her.”

“She got out of control,” Tara replied.

Spike wasn’t ready to bend quite yet. “Which is what you’re sayin’ I’m goin’ to do.”

“I’m saying it’s a possibility,” Tara said evenly. “What happens next is up to you.”

The soul didn’t always make it easier to do the right thing. No one had ever told Spike that, although he should have been able to figure it out for himself. After all, the Scoobie gang had managed to screw up badly, and they all possessed souls. In theory, anyway.

Spike knew that he probably wouldn’t lose Tara, even if he did lose control. They would argue about what he should do, whether or not he should go after the guy. Even if he went on a rampage, Tara might still trust him—if only because he had hidden nothing, nor was he trying to control her as Willow had done.

He was telling the truth, however. Spike had gotten his soul to allow him to choose. Before those few minutes in the bathroom with Buffy, he had honestly believed that he had the capacity to be good, to do better. After that, Spike had changed his mind, deciding he needed something else. He needed a compass.

Spike had also believed that it would make him his own man.

The soul had freed him, he supposed, although that wasn’t always what it felt like. He made choices based on what he felt was right, and nothing else. Feeling that it was right in the moment didn’t always give him a clear-cut answer, however.

Emotion wasn’t always the best of guides.

“’m not goin’ to kill anybody.” Spike was still standing, his hands shoved in his pockets. “’m not even plannin’ on hurtin’ him much. Just want to scare the shit out of him so he won’t do it again.”

Tara found she couldn’t argue with that. “Spike—”

“This is who I am, Glinda. If you can’t deal with that…”

She rose to meet him. Tara had forgotten how wounded Spike was. He presented such a strong front, it was difficult to remember how vulnerable he could be to questions or criticisms of any sort. Spike didn’t trust her yet—didn’t trust that she could disagree with him, and yet still love him. “Did I say that?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. Spike was hunched in on himself, obviously ready to bolt, anger and unease in every line of his lean frame. “Look at me, sweetie,” she commanded gently. When he finally met her eyes, Tara cupped his cheek with her hand. “I may disagree with your methods. I might think that you’ve made a mistake at times. I also know your heart, and I know that you would do anything in your power to protect the people that you love. If you err, you’ll do it because you’re doing your best for them.”

Spike uncoiled, some of the tension leaving him. “Even if I thought you screwed up, that wouldn’t be reason enough for me to run,” Tara said softly.

“Tara—” His voice was choked with emotion. “Don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to—”

She smiled at him. “You won’t, Spike. I’m one tough cookie.”

Spike laughed then, kissing her until she was breathless, his hands buried in her hair. He loved this woman. He would shout it from the rooftops, and she would let him.

Tara was not ashamed of him.

He backed away slightly. “I probably should go. If I stay—”

“Then stay.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, taken aback by the challenge in her tone. Spike wasn’t quite so ready to rush into a sexual relationship with the woman he loved as he had been once. That one night with Buffy had changed everything, and not just their relationship. He no longer assumed that the woman’s interpretation of the night’s events would be the same as his own. “I thought—maybe we should wait.”

“Do you want to wait?” Tara replied.

Spike gave her a question for a question. “Do you want me?”

“Yes, I do.” Tara held out her hand. “Let me show you.”

It was a leap of faith. Spike took her hand and made the plunge.



Chapter 18

“There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved.” ~George Sand

Spike woke slowly, warm to his bones. His lack of body heat never really bothered him except when he was sleeping. Then even the heaviest sheets and blankets didn’t help keep him warm. Spike always felt that one should be warm while sleeping.

He could count the number of times Buffy had let him hold her like this on one hand. Actually, it had been more like on two fingers. In those moments when she had slept, Spike had had the waking dream that she would finally understand, that she would finally love him in return. He could then pretend that she really was his girl. Spike had the fantasy that she would wake up and turn to him and smile, and then they would just talk.

It had very nearly happened once, but she had left him broken in an alley soon after.

Every time, however, the dream would become a waking nightmare as she rose hastily, threw on her clothes, and told him that it would never happen again. It was a continual dance—a waltz that had nearly ended in madness.

There was still a part of Spike that was desperately afraid of Tara’s reaction when her eyes opened. He knew that she cared about him; the blonde witch had never sent him a message she didn’t back up with action. She had been the one to invite him into her home, into her bed. Into her life.

Spike was scared to death that Tara would open her eyes, realize who she was with, and flee. Or kick him out, since it was her bed.

So he lay there, not sleeping, watching the slight flutter of her eyelids that told him she was dreaming. Spike wondered what she was dreaming about, and if it was about him or someone else. He wondered if she would tell him if he were to ask.

The dream must have been a precursor to waking, because Tara’s eyes soon fluttered open. Spike would have been holding his breath if he’d needed to breathe.

She smiled at him in the next moment. “Spike. I’m glad you stayed.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, luv,” he responded. “You alright?”

Tara smiled, a slow, lazy smile. “Better than. You?”

“I’m good.” After a long moment when she didn’t move except to shift positions slightly, Spike ventured to ask, “You don’t have to be anywhere this morning?”

“Tim’s opening the shop,” Tara replied. “So we can stay in bed a little longer.”

Spike didn’t mind that scenario a bit, especially when she shifted again, this time to get just a little closer, so that her head rested against his bare chest. She started drawing shapes on his upper arm with a gentle finger. “Was it—was it okay, luv?”

“It was perfect, Spike.” Tara started to laugh. “You know, I always thought that was supposed to be the woman’s question. Traditionally, you know, I would be the weaker partner, especially where I’m from.”

“You’re anything but weak, luv,” Spike replied. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

She shifted slightly. “What about the Slayer?”

“There’s strength, an’ then there’s strength, Glinda. You’ve got the sort that lasts.” Spike smiled admiringly. “You’re like one of those trees that stands for hundreds of years. Solid, you know.”

Tara had never thought of herself as a tree; that had always been Willow. For the longest time, she had thought of herself as standing in Willow’s shadow. To hear Spike speak of her like that, it caused Tara to wonder what led Spike to see in people things no one else saw. “I don’t always feel all that strong.”

“That’s the beauty of it, luv,” he replied easily. “People who know they’re strong, they can beat you over the head with it, make you feel weak. You bring out the best in people.”

“I didn’t bring out the best in Willow.” The words were out of Tara’s mouth before she could pull them back in, and she immediately regretted her comment. The last thing a new relationship needed was a reminder of a previous one.

She had underestimated Spike, however. Underestimated his understanding of how the people you knew affected your life long past when they probably should. They both had their own special regrets, and for that reason they understood each other better than anyone else might. Tara knew that a part of the vampire’s heart would always remain with Buffy, six feet under the topsoil. Spike knew that a part of Tara would always mourn her relationship with Willow. It was the way of things.

It was how they both loved.

“Willow brought out the worst in herself, Tara-luv,” Spike replied quietly. “She was goin’ a bit nuts before you came along. You weren’t around for the ‘my will be done’ spell, but that nearly got all of us killed, an’ no one really said anythin’ about it.”

Tara sighed. “I know, but sometimes—”

“You wonder if you could have stopped her,” Spike finished for her. “You wonder if you’d just found the right words to say, at the right time, you might have been able to salvage it all. You wonder if it was somethin’ in you, or if it really was her, but you’re not quite sure, because you’ve always figured it was your fault in the past when somethin’ went wrong. That ‘bout cover it?”

She shook her head, unbelieving. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“How do you know me so well? I never would have guessed it.”

“Special talent of mine,” Spike replied quietly. “Doesn’t always make people happy, though.”

“I suppose not.”

There was a long pause, and then Spike said quietly, “Can I ask you a question, luv?”

“I’ve asked you plenty,” Tara replied. “I guess turn-about’s fair play.”

“Have you ever gone back? Gone home, I mean?”

“No.” Tara fell silent, remembering. She had thought about it occasionally. As happy as she’d been to finally escape, Tara had wondered if she would be strong enough to go back and visit, to try and reclaim some kind of family. Right after her father and the others had found her, after Spike had proven that she wasn’t a demon, she’d had no desire to see them again.

Ever.

That had been when Willow and the others had proclaimed themselves her family, and for a long time she’d believed it. Later, after things had fallen apart, Tara had pondered the nature of blood kin, and whether or not her father hadn’t been right. Blood kin was always blood kin. A chosen family could break apart at any time.

In the end, Tara had decided that it didn’t matter, that she was better off without them. Some families seemed to destroy or twist every member, and she’d refused to be twisted, refused to be ruined by their small-mindedness.

Perhaps Spike wasn’t so far off when he compared her to a tree after all. “I never did thank you for that,” Tara finally commented.

“For what?” Spike asked, having watched the play of emotions across her face. He saw all the answers there in her expressive eyes.

“For hitting me.” She gave him an impish grin. “You proved I wasn’t a demon.”

He snorted. “That should have been obvious to anyone with eyes. Your git of a father actually had the Scoobies goin’ for a mo.”

Tara’s face turned solemn. “But you saw right through him. You always do.”

Spike stared at her. “You—he didn’t—I mean, he wasn’t—”

“He never touched me,” Tara replied quietly. “Unless you count his belt. The belt made a fairly frequent appearance.”

“It was your brother then,” Spike said knowingly.

Tara didn’t bother asking how Spike knew. At this point, she simply accepted that he seemed to pull the information out of her head. “He tried,” Tara said. “It was one of the reasons I left.”

In response, Spike pulled her closer to him, as though he could erase with his love the damage that her family had wrought. “If you want, I could eat them,” he offered.

Tara giggled. “That’s a lot more tempting than it probably should be.” She stroked his face. “Thank you for being here, Spike. I’m so glad you came back to Sunnydale.”

“Me too, Tara-luv. Me too.”

~~~~~

Tim shifted from foot to foot as he stood outside Meredith’s door. He was thanking his lucky stars that Tara had been able to stabilize Spike a bit. Not that he really believed that the vampire would go off on a rampage, but it had been entirely possible, and Tim wasn’t sure he would have been able to stop Spike.

Then again, he wasn’t completely sure that he wanted to.

Still, this little undercover mission could turn out to be rather interesting, and hopefully fruitful. If he could get proof that this Alan guy was responsible for the roofies, Meredith would get her story and the guy would probably get into some deep shit. Tim was very okay with that scenario.

Meredith’s door swung open, and Tim had the satisfaction of watching her jaw drop. “Told you I could clean up.”

She blinked. Tim had removed all his jewelry, so that none of his piercings were noticeable. He was wearing khakis and a long-sleeved button-down shirt, and his shaggy hair looked as though it had been styled. The tattoos were completely covered, and Meredith suddenly realized that he looked like an Abercrombie and Fitch model—only with more clothing. “Wow.”

He grinned. “What can I say? I’m an undercover expert. I blend.”

“You’re definitely going to blend, Tim,” Meredith replied, standing aside so he could enter. “In fact, you look like you belong to a frat house. I never would have thought it was possible.”

Tim shrugged. “Just because I can fit in doesn’t mean I want to. Is your friend here?”

“She said it would be a few minutes.” Meredith gave him an amused look. “You do realize that you’re going to be used as arm candy tonight, don’t you?”

“I’ve got no problem with that,” Tim said, flashing her another grin. Meredith was thinking that Emily was going to be thanking her for years to come.

Emily was, indeed, perfectly happy with her date. She had harbored the suspicion that Meredith was passing off some ugly guy on her for some reason, but Tim was anything but ugly. He wasn’t even the typical punk that Meredith tended to hang out with.

In fact, Tim played the attentive date to the hilt, knowing that he needed Emily’s cooperation if his mission was going to be successful. To his relief, no one looked at him askance, and when asked, Emily explained that he was from out of town. Tim was rather grateful for his accent, since it lent credence to her story.

At one point, Emily went off to talk to some of her sorority sisters, probably to discuss the qualities of their dates. Tim decided to circulate to see if he couldn’t listen in on a few conversations.

People were talking about the usual kinds of things they did at parties—deep philosophies that really weren’t so deep, bands they’d seen recently, cars they wanted to buy, girls they desired. Tim was well aware that the people there were probably the future leaders of America. They had it all—money, class, influence.

And they had no idea what life was really like for the majority.

He spotted the guy that had been with Dawn that night they’d met up at the Bronze, and Tim drifted closer to their corner of the room, trying to be inconspicuous.

A moment later, Tim couldn’t believe his luck. He watched as Alan passed a small plastic bag to another young man, with a secretive grin. Tim needed to know if he had anymore of the drug on him in order to make a decision. It would be easier to call the cops and let them deal with the prick, but it wouldn’t do any good if Alan came up clean.

“What are you looking at?”

Tim started, realizing he’d been caught staring. “Nothing.”

Alan’s eyes narrowed. “That right?”

With a sinking feeling, Tim knew that the other man thought he’d seen the exchange. And then he had an idea. “Just a bit at loose ends, you know. The girl I was with took off to talk to some of her friends and kind of left me hanging.”

There was a moment where Tim was sure Alan would just shrug and walk away. If that was the case, his other option would be to find a more surreptitious way of searching him. Of course, if Alan was selling roofies to his frat brothers, it could have very easily been another guy that took advantage of Dawn.

To his relief, Alan made a face. “Sorry about that, man.”

Tim shrugged. “It’s no big deal. This is just the first date, so I wasn’t sure if it was going to work out anyway.”

Alan raised an eyebrow. “You’re letting her go pretty easy.”

“There are other fish in the sea,” Tim said, looking around the room appreciatively. “You here with somebody?”

Alan smirked. “Not yet. Like you said, there’s plenty of girls here tonight.” Seeing Tim’s empty hand, he asked, “You want something to drink?”

He was about to refuse, but then decided that alcohol was an excellent way to lower someone’s inhibitions. “Sure.”

An hour later, Tim was grateful that Emily seemed content to hang out with her friends, because he was feeling like he’d been swimming in raw sewage. Alan was everything he hated—a bully, an elitist, and worst of all a chauvinist. He had no problem using a girl for his own pleasure and then leaving her high and dry—and he liked to brag about his conquests.

After Alan seemed sufficiently drunk enough, Tim decided the time was right to ask the key question. “So what do you do if they won’t sleep with you?”

“What do you mean?” Alan said, his words slurring slightly. “They always want to sleep with me.”

“But what if they play hard to get?” Tim asked patiently. “You ever just cut one loose?”

Alan scoffed vociferously. They’d found their way to the den area of the frat house so that the man could talk freely. “Not without getting what I wanted first. There are ways. There was this one girl—Dawn—” He looked around to make certain they weren’t being overheard. “Can I trust you?”

It was about the stupidest question Tim had ever heard, but he let nothing show on his face except earnest interest. “Sure.”

Alan fished around in his pocket and brought out a little plastic sack, just like the one Tim had seen earlier. “Drop one of these into a girl’s drink, and she’ll do anything for you. It loosens her up so she won’t say no.”

‘She can’t say no, you bastard,’ Tim thought as he listened to the other man ramble on. He had a couple of choices. He could go after the guy right then. Tim knew he’d get a few hits in before anyone pulled him off. Of course, there was a good chance someone would call the cops, and given the fact that he was the outsider there, he’d be considered the instigator, Tim knew he would be the one to get arrested.

The other option was to call the cops and get him arrested. That seemed like the better option at the moment.

Waiting until he had an opening, Tim informed Alan that he was going to visit the john and made good on his escape, relieved that he didn’t have to listen to that shit anymore.

Tim made his way through the crowd, looking for Emily. Once he found her, he pulled her away from her friends, ignoring their titters. “I need you to do me a favor,” he said in a low voice.

She frowned. “What?”

“There’s a guy here with a pocket full of roofies. I want you to call the cops, tell them you saw him with them, and that you know he’s planning on using them tonight.” Tim’s eyes bored into hers, and Emily looked a little frightened at his intensity. “Then we’re going to get out of here.”

Emily shook her head. “I can’t. What if they ask—”

“Tell them you’re worried about a friend, but you don’t want her to be mad at you,” Tim said, interrupting her. “Trust me. The cops will find a way to get in here. They’ll MIP half the crowd, and then they’ll search the guy with the evidence they got from the anonymous tip. Even if the evidence doesn’t hold up in court, it’ll be all over the papers, and that’s all I really care about.”

Emily frowned. “How do you know all this stuff?”

“When you’ve been where I have, you learn to know the law as well as the cops do,” Tim said with a wry smile. “Will you do it?”

She frowned, thinking about it. The guy in question was president of the fraternity, and very popular on campus. He was known to be something of a player, but she’d never suspected him of using roofies to get what he wanted. Emily hadn’t thought he would need to.

The very idea of someone drugging her and then—well, it freaked her out.

“I’ll do it.”

~~~~~

It had been a long, lonely week for Dawn. Other than going to classes and the occasional trip to the library or the Magic Box to study, she hadn’t gone anywhere. She had also discovered that most of her friends were drinking buddies; there was no one other than Spike and Tara that she could think of to call and talk to about what had happened.

Unbeknownst to her, Dawn hadn’t actually made any real friends in the last year or two. She could think of a few people from her freshman year that might have become true friends, but Dawn had let those relationships slide as she’d delved further into the party-girl scene. There might have even been people there that she could have counted on, but she hadn’t tried to develop those friendships.

Now the only person she could think to call was Tim, but Dawn felt uncomfortable doing so. He had been really nice, but she was afraid to grow too dependent upon him, to appear too needy, especially after the way she’d treated him.

Dawn had thought about hanging out with Tara or Spike, but the few times she had been around them in the last few days, they had been totally immersed in each other. While she couldn’t begrudge them their obvious happiness, it just seemed to highlight what a mess she had made of her own life.

She lay on her couch, curled up, letting the light from the TV flicker over her without really taking in what was playing. It was just reruns of shows she’d seen a hundred times, some of those times with her sister or her mom. Watching brought back memories Dawn would have rather left buried so that they didn’t hurt quite so much.

Dawn wanted to cry, but she didn’t have any tears left.

The soft knock on the door surprised her, and she looked through the peephole cautiously before unbolting the door. “What are you doing here?”

Tim shrugged. “Thought I’d stop by.”

Dawn stared at him. His piercings were gone, and he was dressed nicely—really nicely. The sleeves on his shirt were rolled up halfway, revealing his inked arms. “Why do you look like you fell into the Gap?”

“I had a party to go to tonight,” he said. “Can I come in?”

She blushed slightly. “Sure. I’m sorry. It’s just—I’m a little tired.”

“I’m surprised you’re still awake,” he commented.

“Sleep’s been kinda hard to come by these last few days.” Dawn sat on the couch, waiting until he was sitting next to her to ask, “Why did you come by, Tim?”

“The party I went to—” he began. “Spike asked me to go to. To find out what happened. I promised I’d give him the information, but I thought you had the right to be the first to know if you wanted.”

“I asked Spike to tell me,” Dawn said quietly. “If he found anything, I asked him to let me know. Did you—”

“The guy—Alan, right?—was there.” Tim’s voice was soft, gentle. “He was bragging about what happened, and he pulled out a bag of pills. I had someone call the cops. As far as I know, the cops are searching him right now. If nothing else, it’s going to be in the school paper.”

Dawn blanched. “Do they—will they know I—”

“Your name isn’t in it, Dawn. The only thing people are going to be talking about is the fact that he has to drug a girl to get them to sleep with him.” Tim smiled, trying to lighten the moment. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and the cops will actually get a possession charge to stick.”

Dawn shook her head. “It was really him,” she whispered.

“Yeah, it really was.” Tim hesitated and then put a wary hand on her shoulder, ready to snatch it back if it appeared as though he’d crossed a line. Instead of pulling away, Dawn leaned towards him, and Tim put his arms around her. “I’m so sorry, love.”

Though her tears were all dried up, Dawn buried her face in his shoulder. She needed to be held, needed to feel someone’s arms around her. In that moment, she missed her mom with an intensity she found shocking, given how much time had passed since Joyce’s death. Dawn missed Buffy, too, knowing that her sister would have held her the same way Tim was doing now. Would have smoothed her hair back and promised her things were going to be okay, even if they both knew it was a lie.

She let Tim hold her, taking comfort in the embrace, even though it wasn’t the same.

But it was something.



Chapter 19

“In real love, you want the other person’s good. In romantic love you want the other person.” ~Margaret Anderson

Dawn felt a moment of panic upon waking, realizing that she hadn’t gone to sleep in her own bed even though that’s where she found herself. With a sense of desperation, she tried to remember what had happened the night before. She had been watching TV, and Tim had come by, and he had told her what had happened at the party and then—

She let out her breath, figuring that she must have gone to sleep at some point on the couch. They hadn’t said much to one another. In fact, all Dawn really remembered was watching TV with her head on his shoulder. Tim had seemed to sense her need to not be alone, and yet to be silent.

When she emerged from her bedroom, Dawn immediately spotted Tim stretched out on the couch, one arm thrown over his face. His shoes and belt lay on the floor next to him, and he’d pulled the afghan off the back.

Dawn felt a flood of tenderness for him that was new. She had never honestly thought that Tim would be the kind of guy she’d fall for. She had always pictured herself as finding some college guy, maybe pre-law or pre-med. They would finish their degrees together, and have careers. Or maybe he would have been a business major. The main point was that he’d be handsome and successful and intelligent.

Tim was handsome and intelligent, but he wasn’t in school, and he’d never given any indication of being interested in getting a degree. His tattoos made it fairly apparent that he wasn’t interested in the traditional sense of success, that he belonged to a different world.

Dawn suddenly wanted to be a part of his world with an aching intensity. She wanted him to like her.

A groan startled Dawn out of her thoughts. Tim sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. “Hey, Dawn,” he mumbled. “Hope you didn’t mind me staying. It was pretty late.”

“No, it’s okay,” Dawn replied. “Thanks. For staying, you know.”

He shrugged. “No big deal. It didn’t seem like you wanted to be alone.”

“I didn’t.”

He stood. “I get that.” Stifling a yawn, Tim reached for his belt. “I called Spike last night after you fell asleep and let him know what happened. I think Tara’s cooking dinner tonight if you want to come over.”

“That would be nice,” Dawn replied. “It’s—it gets too quiet here.”

Tim remembered long afternoons and evenings of being at home alone while his parents were at work. He understood how empty a place could become when you were the only one there. “So what are you doing this weekend?” he asked. “Next week’s Spring Break, right?”

Dawn shrugged. “I think I passed the make up tests, but I still have those projects to work on, and I have at least two papers that I should write. It’s going to be a pretty busy week.”

He shrugged. “Well, if you want to get together sometime, I can always bring a book. I don’t mind just hanging with you while you do homework or whatever.”

It was about the sweetest offer anyone had ever made. Dawn had never had anyone make a suggestion like that before. “Tim—I don’t know.”

Tim frowned. “What don’t you know?”

“I don’t know if we should do this.”

“Do what?” Tim asked. He stiffened slightly. “Is this the ‘let’s just be friends’ speech? Because if it is—”

“No!” Dawn said quickly, hating that it had come out so wrong. “I mean, yes. Sort of. It’s just that I don’t think I can do anything other than friendship right now. It’s not you, really, it’s—”

“You,” he said, his jaw tightening. “Don’t sweat it. Friends is great.”

“Except it really isn’t,” Dawn said. “I want us to be friends, Tim, but that doesn’t mean I’m ruling anything else out. In fact, I’d be happy if it turned into something more. I just—I don’t want to lead you on and make you think I’m ready for something that I’m not. But that’s now.”

Tim stared at her. “You’re saying…”

“That I really like you, and I want to get to know you better,” Dawn said as clearly as she was able. “But that I need some time before it gets romantic.” She blushed. “If that’s even where you were going. That probably sounded really self-centered. I’m sorry. I just assumed. I should have—”

He silenced her with a gentle finger on her lips. “I like you too, Dawn, and I want to get to know you better. As for where this is going, we’ll go as slow as you want. I’ve got time.”

“Why can’t all guys be like you?” Dawn asked plaintively.

Tim, knowing it was a rhetorical question, simply brushed her hair back from her face. “So I’ll see you tonight at Tara’s?”

“For sure,” Dawn replied, feeling the brush of lips on her forehead before he left. His sweetness warmed her to the core.

~~~~~

The shop was usually quiet in the morning, with only the occasional customer dropping in. Spike had pretty much refused to let Tara out of his sight for the past few days, preferring instead to hang about the shop with her. While Tara had never hated her job, having Spike there illuminated just how boring things had been without him around.

At the moment, she was going through the previous day’s receipts while Spike glanced through the morning paper. It was such a domestic scene, one Tara had never thought to find the vampire a part of, but she was grateful that he was there.

“Anything interesting?” she asked, knowing what Tim had reported the previous night.

Spike grunted, flipped a page, then got a satisfied smirk on his face. “’s on page three. Drug bust on campus. They didn’t release his name, but I’ll bet that Tim’s friend puts it in the school paper.”

Tara came over to stand behind him so she could browse the article. The story went on to give some statistics on what rohypnol was typically used for and how often it showed up, as well as tips for women to prevent being taken advantage of. “Are you still going to go after him?”

Spike gave her an incredulous look. “Just because they arrested the git doesn’t mean he won’t do it again. I plan on makin’ sure he believes I’m goin’ to be right around every corner for the rest of his bleedin’ life.”

Tara had a hard time arguing with that. Now that they knew both that Dawn really had been drugged and that it had been Alan, she was much less inclined to prevent Spike from going after the boy.

He was a bully, and Tara had never liked bullies.

“As long as you leave him in one piece,” she cautioned.

Spike grinned. “He’ll survive. More than that, ‘m not goin’ to promise.”

She sighed, shaking her head, deciding that it wasn’t worth it to argue the point. As long as Spike didn’t kill him. The ringing of the phone had her leaving his side. “The Magic Box. This is Tara. How may I—”

The voice on the other end was eminently familiar. “Hello, Tara.”

“Giles!” She hadn’t heard from Giles in a couple of weeks. They tried to touch base at least once a month, but the Watcher had largely left the running of the store in her capable hands. “How are you?”

“Quite well, thank you,” he replied. “And you?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s good to hear from you.”

A little more warmth edged into his tone. “Likewise, Tara. I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve called. The Council has kept me busy these last weeks.”

They made small talk for the next few minutes, exchanging news and shoptalk. Tara had told him about Spike returning and hiring Tim not long after they had arrived in Sunnydale. Although Giles had voiced his doubts, in the end he’d allowed her to do what she liked.

Tara had no desire to hide her relationship with Spike from the older man. Even though she respected him a great deal, Tara had struggled too hard to become her own person to truly care what he thought. Or, even though she might care, it wasn’t going to keep her from doing something she felt was right for her.

Even so, she wasn’t in a huge hurry to let Giles know that she was with Spike now either. It wasn’t really any of his business.

“How is Dawn?” Giles asked after a few minutes. “I know you said you had some concerns about her last time we talked.” Tara bit her lip, not knowing how much to tell him. Catching her hesitation, and correctly guessing the reasons behind it, Giles asked, “What happened?”

“She’s been in some trouble,” Tara finally said slowly. “I think she’s trying to make some changes though. It’s not really something I feel as though I should tell you about.”

Tara knew that he had probably pulled off his glasses and was cleaning them on the other end. “I see. Well, I suppose this might be the time to let you know that I’m coming back to Sunnydale on a visit.”

“When will you be here?”

“I’ll be arriving in a week,” Giles replied. “I should probably also tell you now that Willow won’t be joining me.”

Tara was quiet for a moment. “Any reason?”

“She said she didn’t want to interrupt her studies, but I have the sense that she feels it’s too great a risk at this time. Willow still isn’t quite ready to face—Sunnydale.”

Willow wasn’t quite ready to face her, Tara knew, and for the moment she felt only relief. “Tell her that we’ll miss her, but that we understand.”

“Have you spoken to Xander recently?” Giles asked.

His question surprised her, since the Watcher rarely asked after Xander. “No, why?”

“Anya will be accompanying me, and I realize that it might make for some awkwardness if Xander was present.”

The embarrassed note in Giles’ voice caught Tara’s attention, and the truth hit her immediately. “I won’t mention it if I see him, if that’s what you’d like.”

“That might be for the best,” Giles replied quietly. “How is Spike?”

“He’s good,” Tara said, biting her lip to hold back the giggle at that double entendre. “He’s pretty busy keeping the Hellmouth in check.”

There was a long pause, and then Giles said, sounding terribly reluctant, “Please let him know that I’d like to talk to talk to him while I’m in town. I have a few things I’d like to discuss.”

“Of course,” Tara replied, quickly saying her goodbyes.

“What’s the Watcher want?” Spike asked once she’d hung up.

Tara sighed. “He’s coming to town.”

“Well, won’t that be pleasant,” Spike muttered sarcastically.

Tara walked over to him, tipping up his chin with gentle fingers. “I love you,” she said. “Giles being in town doesn’t change anything. I’m an adult now, and fully capable of deciding who I want to be with.”

It sounded almost too good to be true, but Spike decided against arguing with her. “Love you too, Tara.”

She could still see the doubt in his eyes, and although she knew where it came from, it still hurt. Tara wondered if Spike would ever completely trust in her love for him.

~~~~~

For the first time in days, Tim and Spike were home at the same time. “You and Tara have been hanging out a lot,” Tim said knowingly as they entered the apartment after having dinner at Tara’s.

Spike was silent for a moment before saying reluctantly, “Yeah. We’re—”

“Together?” Tim asked, sounding amused. “Spike, it’s obvious that she really digs you.”

Spike shrugged. “She said she loved me.”

Tim’s eyebrows shot up. “You guys are in love?” He grinned. “That’s great.” At Spike’s silence, he frowned. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Spike allowed. “But—Buffy’s Watcher is comin’ to town.”

“And you’re afraid she’s going to dump you when that happens?” the boy asked. “Tara’s not that kind of girl. If she says she loves you, she means it.”

“What about you an’ Dawn?” Spike asked, quickly changing the subject. “You two seemed fairly cozy tonight.”

Tim shrugged. It was his turn to look uncomfortable. “We’re just friends. Dawn said she wanted to take things slow, you know?”

“She said that?” The vampire raised an eyebrow. “That typically means it’s goin’ somewhere after then.”

“Maybe,” Tim said doubtfully. “I don’t think I’m her type.”

“I don’t think Dawn knows what ‘her type’ is,” Spike said, his lips twisting into a half smile. “Speakin’ of Dawn, ‘m goin’ huntin’ tonight. Might see if I could hunt up that bastard that slipped somethin’ in her drink. You wanna come with me?”

Tim had to think about it for all of two seconds. “Will you let me get a hit in?”

“I think that could be arranged.”



Chapter 20

“Love won’t be tampered with, love won’t go away. Push it to one side and it creeps to the other.” ~Louise Erdrich

Alan was not having the best of days. It had taken his parents almost twelve hours to find a lawyer to bond him out. Spending that time in a jail cell was not his idea of a good time. He’d spent the day answering questions and trying to figure out what he was supposed to do next. The worst part was that the lawyer was urging him to plead guilty, hoping for a possession charge, rather than an accusation of intent to distribute.

There didn’t seem to be any way around the charges. The police had cause to search him, and they had found a bag full of roofies. His parents hadn’t even wanted to talk to him they were so furious—more that he’d gotten caught than anything else most likely.

Alan’s day was about to get worse.

They had released him about an hour after dark. His lawyer had offered Alan a ride home, which he had refused. Alan wanted to walk to clear his head. He’d never expected to get caught. It was supposed to have been a fool-proof plan. Dawn wouldn’t remember anything, the only witnesses were the other guys in the frat house, and they weren’t going to snitch on him.

Well, at least they couldn’t get him for rape, which was the more serious offense.

Alan let out a yelp of surprise when a hand snuck out of the darkness and yanked him back into an alley. A strong forearm pressed against his throat, slamming him back up against the brick. “Time to pay the piper, mate.”

He stared into yellow eyes that glowed in the dark. “Who—what are you?”

“I’m your worst nightmare,” the creature replied. “You hurt somethin’ that’s mine.”

“Yours?” Alan managed to squeak. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Girl named Dawn,” another voice said, drifting out of the darkness. Alan heard a low growl. “You hurt her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he protested. “I don’t know any girl named Dawn.”

“That’s not what you were saying the other night.” The boy who had been at the party stepped out of the darkness, a yellow dog by his side. The dog had its teeth bared, and the boy had a switchblade in hand. “In fact, I remember you said you had a fool-proof method to get a girl to give it up.”

Alan tried to squirm free, realizing that he was out-matched and that he had spilled his secret to exactly the wrong person. “You were the guy that got me arrested.”

“That’s not technically accurate,” Tim replied. “I’m not the one who called the cops.”

He moved closer, and the blade glinted in the dim light. “What are you going to do?” Alan demanded. “You hurt me, and I’ll call the cops. I’ll tell them you assaulted me.”

“Really?” Spike asked, and Alan’s eyes were pulled back towards the vampire. “You’re goin’ to tell the cops—what? That you got attacked by a barbeque fork?” He grinned, showing his fangs. “Because that’s the only thing they’re going to believe. Police around here don’t believe in vampires.”

Alan looked from to the other, the seriousness of the situation dawning on him. They could kill him, and no one would ever know the truth. “You don’t want to do this,” he said. “It’s not like you wouldn’t have done the same thing. The girl’s a cock-tease!”

He was trying to reach a sense of male solidarity, having never met a guy who wouldn’t use a woman if he had the chance. Alan didn’t have a sister, or a female friend he felt protective of. In fact, one might say that the protective gene had been completely left out of his makeup.

“Then maybe we shouldn’t leave you with a cock to tease,” Tim suggested, flipping his knife meaningfully.

“You’re both monsters!” Alan exclaimed.

Spike bared his teeth in a growl reminiscent of the one Luz was emitting. “Maybe, but we’ve made lookin’ after Dawn Summers our business. I find out you’ve ever pulled somethin’ like this again, I’ll make sure you die a slow an’ painful death. An’ I’ll let my friend here castrate you first.”

“In fact, if I find out you’ve laid a hand on any woman, I’ll geld you and be happy to do it,” Tim warned, flicking his knife blade back down. His fist shot out without warning, breaking Alan’s nose and sending his head slamming back into the wall.

And with that, they both proceeded to beat him to a bloody pulp.

~~~~~

Normally a spot of violence cheered Spike up no end, but Tim thought the vampire seemed more depressed on the way back to the apartment.

Tim couldn’t find it in his heart to feel bad about what they had done. Really, Alan had gotten off easy. If they’d had a chance in hell at getting a rape conviction, Tim would have rather seen the young man go to jail, since he’d be paying for his crime for years. Instead, he got a beating and no permanent damage. In a few weeks, Alan would be completely healed and the night would merely be a memory.

As far as Spike was concerned, Tim didn’t understand why beating Alan up would have upset him. They had gotten revenge for Dawn, and Alan wouldn’t be pulling a stunt like that again any time soon. Tim wouldn’t be surprised if he left Sunnydale altogether. He’d need to if he ever wanted to get a date again.

When they returned to the apartment, and Spike still seemed morose, Tim decided to ask him about it. “Spike? You okay?”

“’m fine,” Spike replied shortly, heading straight to the kitchen for something to eat.

Tim watched as the vampire fished a mug out of the sink, rinsed it out, and starting heating his blood up. “That’s probably not the most sanitary method,” he pointed out. “You could get a clean one from the cupboard.”

“Vampire here,” Spike said in an unnecessary reminder. “’s not like ‘m goin’ to get sick.”

Tim frowned. He wasn’t stupid. There were only two reasons that Spike brought up the fact that he was a vampire these days. One was to make a joke out of things he could or couldn’t do. The other was when Spike was being defensive about something. If he had to guess, Tim would say it was the latter.

“I’ve known you for what? Five years now?” Tim asked, waiting until Spike grunted an affirmation. “So I know when something is bugging you.” Something clicked. “It’s not because Alan called you a monster, is it? Because I was included in that.”

“That’s not it,” Spike replied, but the set of his shoulders told Tim that he might be close. “Was just—forget it.”

Tim strode into the kitchen and grabbed Spike by the arm. “I’m not going to forget it. If something he said bothered you—or if you’re regretting taking the piss out of him, just tell me, but don’t let that loser rent space in your head.”

“What he said, ‘bout us doin’ the same in his place,” Spike began slowly. “He’s right.”

Tim took a step back, surprised. “What are you talking about? If a girl’s being a tease, you just walk away. That’s all there is to it.”

“I didn’t mean he was right ‘bout you,” Spike replied hoarsely. “He was right about me.”

Tim shook his head. “No. No way. I don’t know—is this before the soul?”

“Buffy—” Spike said, then found himself unable to go on. He’d never spoken of this before. Tara knew, but not because he’d had to tell the story. Tim knew something had happened to cause him to pursue the soul, but not exactly what it was.

Spike wasn’t sure he could say the words aloud.

“Yeah, it was before the soul,” Spike finally managed. “It was—it was why I went after it. After—I couldn’t face it. Hated myself.”

Tim sat down at their makeshift kitchen table. He could hear Luz whining in the background as she sensed the tension. It felt as though his world had just turned upside down. Tim had known, at least in theory, that Spike had not always been a nice guy. The idea that he would rape someone was unfathomable to him, though.

“You raped Buffy.” His tone was flat.

Spike shook his head, knowing that Tim would probably hate him after this, but he felt a need to get it off his chest, to reveal that he wasn’t the hero Tim believed him to be. Even though Tim’s respect meant the world to him. “No,” Spike said wearily. “We were—we’d been in a relationship, an’ things got rough. She’d beat up on me, I’d beat up on her. She broke things off, an’ I slept with one of her friends. I went to apologize, things got out of hand, and she kicked me off. I never wanted to hurt her, an’ instead I end up just like that wanker we beat up on tonight.”

Spike was shocked to find himself spun around and slammed up against the wall. He hadn’t been paying attention, and Tim had moved too quickly for him to defend himself. The surprise held him stationary, although his fangs flashed in an involuntary response. Spike’s face returned to its human form almost immediately. “Don’t you dare compare yourself to that bastard,” Tim hissed. “You are nothing like him.”

“I—”

“You nothing!” Tim shot back. “You just friggin’ told me that you didn’t do anything!”

“I wanted to!” Spike burst out, saying the words he’d never been able to utter. They were nose to nose now and yelling. The vampire couldn’t remember arguing with Tim like this before. “I wanted to prove that we still had a connection!”

“And then you left to get your soul!” Tim retorted. “Shit, Spike! Did you see an ounce of guilt or remorse on that dick-wad’s face? And he has a soul! He wanted us to think it was okay for him to rape a girl he’d been out with a few times. You felt guilty about losing it with a girl who pushed you to the edge.”

Tim released him abruptly. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, Spike? You made me what I am. Without you, I would never have made it past sixteen. You showed me that I was worth something. You showed me what it means to be a man. I know you, and you don’t have that kind of darkness in you. Not anymore.”

Spike slumped back against the counter. “I just—I could see myself in him. What he said—”

“Was a lie,” Tim said bluntly. “You’re not a monster, and you don’t go around taking advantage of women. Whatever happened back then, I don’t give a rat’s ass. I know who you are now, and if you think something like that is going to change how I see you, you’re just stupid.”

Spike huffed out a breathless sort of laugh. “You win. I’m bein’ a ponce for even listenin’ to him.”

“Yeah, you are,” Tim replied. “Look, Spike, you’re not Alan. You’re not those guys in the alley either. If it wasn’t for you…”

Spike managed a small smile. “I know, Tim. Got some regrets about what I’ve done in the past, but none of ‘em concern you.”

Tim ducked his head. “Yeah, well, just as long as you know that you’re not Alan, and you’re not anything like him. We all screw up, Spike.”

“Maybe so, but I wish I’d gotten the chance to tell the Slayer I was sorry,” Spike said quietly. “Never got that chance.”

~~~~~

Spike walked down the halls of the high school, feeling a bit strange. He’d never imagined being the responsible party in a situation like this.

After all, Spike was usually the one starting the fights.

Even so, he was grateful that the school had sewer access, and that it was early winter. The sun would set shortly, which would make getting back to the apartment that much easier. Spike wasn’t sure he was up to explaining to the school officials why Tim’s guardian couldn’t be in direct sunlight.

Tim was in the principal’s office, slumped in a chair, one side of his face rapidly swelling. The boy glanced up briefly as Spike entered, but said nothing, choosing to look back down at the floor again. “You okay, Tim?”

Tim shrugged, still refusing to speak. Spike chose to ignore the secretary in favor of getting some answers from his young ward. “You want to tell me what happened?”

“Why?” Tim muttered. “They’re just going to tell you something different. It’s not like anybody listens to me anyway.”

Tim was wearing his best sullen-teen expression. It was probably a good thing that Spike knew all about what sullen often meant. With Tim, at least, it was typically a defense mechanism, used to disguise hurt and fear. The boy was usually so easy-going, Spike knew something had to have happened to provoke him into starting a fight.

“You want to tell me why you hit him?” Spike pressed. “Might help if I got your side before I have to talk to the lady in charge.”

“I didn’t like the way he was lookin’ at me,” Tim sneered, but as he did so, he met Spike’s eyes for the first time since the vampire had entered. Spike knew then that his instincts were right. The pain in the boy’s eyes was matched only by his fear.

“Mr. Benton?” The secretary finally managed to get his attention. “The principal will see you now.” Spike rose, looking over at Tim, and the woman interpreted his look. “Just you. Tim can wait out here.”

The man that met him was just the kind of guy Spike loved to tweak—big, serious, and looking like he’d be able to give Angel a run for his money in the brooding department. He introduced himself as Dr. Ward and began explaining why he was going to expel Tim. “We have a zero-tolerance policy for fighting in this school.”

“What about the other kid?” Spike asked evenly.

Dr. Ward raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Tim’s face is black an’ blue,” Spike pointed out. “If you’re goin’ to expel one, you’d better kick ‘em both out.”

“He started the fight,” Dr. Ward explained smoothly. “We don’t put up with behavior like that in this school.”

Spike frowned, feeling as though he was talking to a brick wall. “Fine. Let’s just get the lad in here, an’ he can give us his side of the story.” The vampire was ready to scare the bastard into allowing Tim to stay, but he knew that wouldn’t do any good. Actions like that would most likely end up making Tim’s life even more miserable. “Tim, come in here for a minute.”

The boy entered, looking angry and rebellious, which Spike knew wouldn’t help his case any. Spike really didn’t care, however. The important thing was to get to the truth. Even if the principal didn’t listen to reason, it would be fine. Spike would find another school, come up with a different plan.

“I want you to explain what happened.” Spike was using his best no-nonsense voice now, the same one he’d used to control his minions, just with a little more kindness behind it.

For a moment, he was certain that Tim was going to remain stubbornly silent, but the boy finally muttered something that even vampire-hearing didn’t allow him to catch. “Say it again, lad.”

“He called me a fag,” Tim said, louder this time. As Spike had hoped, once he’d gotten started, the rest of the truth came out as well. “He said I was a flaming queer.”

By the look on Dr. Ward’s face, the rules of the game had just changed, even though the man was still trying to come out clean. “That hardly excuses you attacking him, even if you were provoked.”

Tim muttered something more, and then repeated himself before Spike could admonish him. “He asked me if I would blow him, and wondered what the going rate was.”

There was a long silence, and then Spike said quietly, “I think it might be wise to rethink expellin’ him if you don’t want this school known for bein’ a place that allows bullyin’ an’ rampant homophobia.”

“That—sheds a different light on things,” Dr. Ward finally responded. “I’ll speak with the other boy involved, of course.”

There was more discussion after that about appropriate punishments and lectures on how violence was never a good choice. The meeting took long enough that the sun had disappeared from the sky by the time they managed to leave.

Spike and Tim walked a full fifteen minutes in silence before the boy finally asked, “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Why would you think that?”

“I almost got kicked out of school.”

Spike snorted. “Please. If I were you, I’d have done a bit more than blacken his eye. Git had it comin’ to him.”

Tim blinked. His parents had been furious the one time they’d been called to the school to pick him up. A boy had tried to beat him up at recess, and he had ended up being the one sent to the principal’s office. At the time, his parents hadn’t even bothered to find out his side of the story, too concerned with how his behavior would reflect on them. “You’re not mad.”

Spike stopped, halting Tim’s movement with a gentle hand. “’Course I’m mad. That bloody idiot needed a good beatin’, and I wish you’d had time to do more damage. I’m not mad at you. You’re doin’ the best you can, Tim. In case you were wonderin’, I’ve seen it. No one else might, but I do.”

“I just—” Tim stared down at his worn sneakers. “I never wanted anyone to find out.”

Spike smiled sadly. “People find things out. If it makes you feel any better, I doubt the kid really knows. He was just tryin to push your buttons, an’ he stumbled on what works.”

“Dr. Ward was going to expel me,” Tim said softly. “He wouldn’t even listen.”

“’m always gonna listen,” Spike promised. “You just keep tryin’.”

“What if it’s not good enough?” It was his fear speaking now—his deep-seated fear that Spike would leave him just as everyone else had.

Spike sighed. “Sometimes our best isn’t good enough, but it’s all we’ve got. An’ it will always be good enough for me.”

~~~~~

Dawn tucked into the sandwich Tara had brought hungrily. “Thanks, Tara,” she said around a mouthful of food.

“It’s my pleasure, Dawnie,” the other woman replied, beginning to eat her own lunch. She’d given Tim the day off. Spike had called her after they’d returned home after chasing down Alan and had told her what they had done. Tara was simply grateful that they hadn’t killed the man. Whether he deserved it or not, it wasn’t a good idea for Spike or Tim to christen themselves his executioner.

Dawn bit her lip. “Do you—How do you make a guy like you?”

“I don’t think you can, Dawnie,” Tara replied gently. “That has to come from the other person. It’s not something that you can force.” She hesitated. “Is this—about Tim?”

Dawn blushed, which was reply enough for the older woman. “I know he likes me,” she said awkwardly. “It’s just I don’t know if he’s just being nice, or if he likes me, likes me.”

“Do you want him to like you?” Tara asked.

Dawn bit her lip. “Who wouldn’t?” It was the question of a girl who had already half in love. As accurate as the question might be, given Tim’s character, it revealed Dawn’s growing affections. “Every guy I see, I have to wonder,” she said quietly. “I have to wonder if they wouldn’t do the same as Alan did, given the chance. And I don’t know. That’s the worst part of it, Tara. I don’t know about any of them, except for Tim, because he could have taken advantage of me, and he didn’t.”

“It’s not something you can ever know, Dawnie,” Tara said gently. “Not until you get to know someone’s heart. You just—you have to be careful.”

Dawn managed a shaky smile. “Do you think Tim will ever like me?”

Tara stroked the girl’s hair lovingly. “I don’t know why he wouldn’t, sweetie. You’re very lovable.”

For that moment, at least, it was nothing but the truth.

 

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