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Part 9...
 

"I'm gonna kill him."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "No, you're not. You're just moody cuz he actually makes you sit still longer than possible for you."

"All the same! I bloody hate your watcher, pet!" Spike growled, slamming his fist into the wall. "He's kept me here for three days straight, 's a bleedin' wonder I dinnit eat him yet!"

She hoisted herself up onto the pommel horse and looked at him seriously. "Spike, it's just for another day. I don't think Giles is getting everything he wanted. All he has on this is my reaction to you being in danger or pain. That and those weird glinties you get when you hear me walking in."

He frowned. "When was that?" he asked, eyeing her curiously from his position against the wall. Buffy shrugged.

"Day two. I came in with Willow after classes, and Giles said your eyes started glowing." Spike raised his eyebrows at her, genuinely stunned. Then his brow furrowed and he looked thoughtful.

"Where the bloody hell was I? I wanna see this, dammit," he grumbled. Buffy rolled her eyes at him and shifted on the pommel horse, straddling it and pushing herself up with her hands.

"Spot me," she commanded, twisting and grabbing the handles firmly. Spike pushed off from the wall, pulling a box of Marlboros out of his duster pocket. He winced slightly as he slid his right arm out of the sleeve, then tossed the heavy leather coat onto the dummy in the corner. The dislocated shoulder hadn't taken long to heal since Buffy had popped it right back into its socket, but it still hurt like a mother to move it.

Next time he saw that pussy, poncey, bastard...

Slipping his Zippo out of his jeans' pocket, he lit up, then tossed the box onto a chair. Cocking his head, he took in the curve of Buffy's lower back, and spoke as she brought her legs over her head, doing a handstand. "Are you sure you want me in here while you do that?"

Buffy lifted her head slightly in acknowledgement and grinned. "Well, it depends whether or not you can keep your hands to yourself."

Spike raised his eyebrow, following her body with his eyes until it got to be a leeeetle too much. "Uh... I might have to."

Buffy laughed, her eyes inviting him closer. "Are you gonna watch me or what? Cuz if you're not, I could call Xander in here, I'm sure he'd be happy to do it." Spike scowled, growling softly at her.

"Oh, I'm watchin', luv. An' if you even joke about bringin' that git in, I'll..." He trailed off of the grouse, inwardly imagining ways to torture Xander. Buffy somehow sensed his thoughts and gave him a Look, complete with the scowly eyes.

"You'll what?"

Spike moved closer and kicked the pommel horse, making her lose her balance. She yelped as she dropped and Spike grabbed her before she hit the floor, pulling her up, her back against him. Placing his hands on her hips, he softly kissed the shell of her ear and murmured, "I'll do somethin' not nice, pet. You have to remember..." His left hand ran up her side to cup one small, firm breast and squeezed gently, pressing himself full against her ass. His parts responded correctly to the sound of the soft, arousing gasp she gave. He bent forward slightly, his lips grazing her earlobe. "I'm a very... very... bad man."

Buffy sighed softly and leand into him, her eyes closing, her head tucked gently against his neck. < Mmm... feels good...> was her primary thought. His arms curled around her waist, and his lips traced and kissed a path down her neck. Soothingly, he pressed them against her jaw and chin. Buffy turned her head toward his at that and stared into his eyes, smiling as flashes of gold and silver rippled past, causing the expressive, tranquil blue to shimmer. Her hand moved up to touch his face, her thumb tracing his strong jawline.

"You have the glowy eyes," she murmured, her voice taking on the quality of a sleepy child. Spike smiled and bent his head, touching his lips softly to hers.

God, this was nice. He didn't know what it was about finally giving in to his attraction to Buffy, but he was pretty sure that it had something partly to do with the fact that she wasn't kicking him in the nuts and tossing him out in the sun.

It couldn't be just that, though. Tender was good. Tender was nice. Tender soothed the savage Buffy Beast from emerging and kicking the hell out of him. But at the moment, tender also meant that... it meant that Buffy was falling for him.

Finally.

Dru had never liked tender. She didn't like cuddling. She preferred to be coddled, or pet, like a prize cat. And in bed, she was all for the kinky. In fact, from the time Spike had been Sired by his mad ex-lover to the time that Darla had left and rejoined the Master, Spike and Dru had thoroughly used any means necessary to fulfill any and all sexual interests that were beyond the norm.

Dru really could be quite creative when she wanted to be.

Chains had become a constant when Angelus had taken his Childer back to Ireland. He'd killed off the owners of a castle, and while he'd been off searching out their wealth and looking for more victims, Drusilla had sniffed her way to a dungeon. That first night had proven to find a great deal of lots of fun toys, and Spike had woken up from an already arousing sleep, to a more titillating surprise.

Harmony had been the same, though to a much lesser degree than his Dark Princess. No chains or shackles were ever present -- she used silk scarves and the such from what she'd take at April Fools. He had to admit, the scarves felt better on the wrists than the manacles did, and Harmony was sweet in bed, in her own little way -- Spike guessed that she'd been turned as a virgin -- but she lacked the creativity that Drusilla had had.

He was beginning to prefer it if Buffy had no experience with bondage. Maybe then, he could introduce it to her more slowly. He winced inwardly as he remembered her first two introductions to his handcuffs around a month or two earlier. He really did have to learn to be more subtle and sensitive to her. She was probably a virtuous princess, thanks to Peaches and Commando Boy.

He was sure he could bring out her wild side. Hell, he'd already started.

At the moment, though, with her soft, strawberry-flavored lips on his, kissing him back so incredibly sweetly, he was beginning to think that bondage and wild, rushed, hurried, passionate fucking was overrated.

He grunted softly as he heard a creak come from the other side of the store outside the door. Sniffing, he had already scented Giles' approach, and pulled away gently, giving Buffy a pointed Look. One that pretty much said, "Oh, balls," but nonetheless warned her of uninvited guests. Buffy pouted and pulled away reluctantly, returning to her stretches while Spike looked down and around himself, searching for his suddenly-missing cigarette. He rolled his eyes as he dicovered it, mashed into the floor and completely, utterly useless.

It figured; he must have dropped it while he'd been making smoochies with Buffy, then trampled it while he'd pulled away. He was lucky the damn training area hadn't caught fire from the tip or anything. Grumbling, he stalked over to his chair and grabbed the pack out of his duster pocket. Snatching another cigarette out, he flipped out his Zippo and lit up as he walked over to the other side of the horse, scrutinizing the tiny Slayer as she balanced on one arm on the beam.

The door opened and Giles walked through; Buffy's eyes shot open, widening and darting to Spike. He made a shrugging gesture and raised his eyebrows as if to say, "Told you he was uninvited." Buffy grinned; Spike really did have good timing.

"Ah, Buffy... you're training? With Spike?" The Watcher fought to keep a pout off of his face. He was an Englishman, dammit, Englishmen, especially one as distinguished as he was, DID NOT POUT! Buffy pivoted herself carefully, managing to keep her position and not fall over.

"Not exactly. Just a little prepping, you know, stretches, warm-up, whatever. Spike's spotting me," she replied. Spike took that as a cue to move forward.

He was being extremely audacious doing what he was doing in front of the chit's Watcher, but he figured it would get in a good laugh for later. He put one hand on her pelvis, and the other on her ass, righting her and lifting her down. Buffy realized what he was doing too late and could barely keep herself from giggling out loud as she turned to face Giles. Spike's fingers ran over her cotton-covered ass, wedging between her legs as she made an attempt to talk with Giles. She squirmed slightly, moving her arm behind her and swatting his hand away.

"Um, Giles, if you, uh... don't! Don't mind, um, maybeeee! Spike could do the, uh... the, um..." Now she couldn't stop from giggling -- Spike had ceased with the hanky-panky and was making faces at her. She covered her eyes with one hand and pointed to Spike with the other, whining. "Giles, make him stop!"

Giles grumbled under his breath and frowned at the vampire. "Spike, please try to be more professional. This is hardly the time for you to be in one of your... hyperactive stages."

Their interactions with each other were getting more and more disturbing.

"Hyperactive my ass. Horny's more like," the vampire muttered under his breath. Buffy pressed her lips together and pulled herself together until she could talk again.

"Uh, like I was saying. Maybe Spike should train with me just this once. I'm gonna end up killing you if I give you another backflip slash roundhouse combo like last time. And this was, you can take more notes on us, and our interactions and stuff." Giles grimaced slightly, but he knew Buffy would continue pressing until she got what she wanted.

So he nodded.

"All right," he mumbled, relinquishing the punching bag title to Spike -- who in all truth, should have had it to begin with. He'd been Buffy's punching bag for quite some time now, and Buffy took her frustrations out on him more than she did on her own Watcher.

He just didn't know which frustrations she took out on the vampire.

Spike turned toward her. "Okay. Flip me. Just use one foot. Come at me with a front flip, stay in the arched position and hook your right foot under me, then heft me up."

Buffy gave him an odd look, but shrugged.

Suddenly Spike felt a swift kick to his stomach, and as he was doubled over, he sensed a delicate leg between his and let out a yell as he was hoisted up and slammed into a training room wall. Sliding down, he groaned in pain, then twisted, trying to pull himself up. His eyes lifted to look at the Slayer, who was raising her eyebrows at him, her hands on her hips.

"What? You told me to flip you -- I did. You never said anything about not using any other technique."

Spike glared at her and grunted. He pulled himself up, saying, "Cute, Slayer, real cute. Aren't you just the little smartass 'round here?"

Buffy nodded, beaming. "Yes! I am!"

Spike narrowed his eyes at the Slayer and leaned in, his face so close that they were nearly nose-to-nose. "Just be glad that I don't seem to have the urge to snap your neck right now, luv," he muttered in a low voice. Buffy tilted her head to the side and folded her arms, the grin still firmly in place. Giles, who seemed to have been forgotten in the last three minutes, watched the pair very closely and noted with surprise and no small amount of alarm, the identical gold flashes that appeared in both of their eyes. He furrowed his brow and made a note in his journal, then observed the warriors quietly.

Spike was quick to realize that he and Buffy were just standing there, ogling each other, and the Watcher was still in the room... watching them (and didn't they have an awful habit of watching their Slayers?). He straightened and backed away. A silent communication passed between him to her, then Spike abruptly lashed out, capping the Slayer in the jaw. Buffy stood still for a moment, then retunred the blow, striking the vampire in the side of his head. Spike paused, feeling the familiar surge of power run through him at the prospect of fighting her, then shook his head, his eyes glowing a blindingly bright yellow as his human face faded into his demon countenance. Leering at the Slayer, he growled, and his lips curled up over his fangs in an evil smirk.

Then he lunged.

Buffy gave a grunt of surprise, nearly getting knocked off of her feet from Spike's attack. She thrust forward, head-butting him int the chest. As soon as he was propelled away from her, she flew at him, executing a spin-kick to his head. Spike roared and grabbed her foot, shoving her back. Buffy hit the ground and groaned as Spike pounced on top of her. Fists met her face with hit after hit, and after a moment, she snapped back to reality, realizing that Spike was straddling her breasts (that perv!). She was entirely positive that if Giles hadn't been in the room with them, Spike would be grinding her as he punched her.

Typical Spike behavior.

Anyway, Spike was enjoying this wasy too much. A smile of unadulterated bliss was on his vampy face, and every punch he knocked in was made with great flourish. Buffy managed to snap out of her mini-daze and dragged her arm up, snapping it across his jaw. Spike snarled and dropped back, his head hitting the floor as Buffy switched their positions. Sitting on his stomach, she dug her knees into his sides and punched his nose.

Giles was worried. He knew that Buffy enjoyed her fighting. Especially when Spike was who she was fighting with. There was no doubt about it. In fact, noting Buffy's ecstasy when fighting Spike had become a normal occurrence in the group.

It was just the arousal and lust that was so plainly shown on both their faces right now that disturbed him.

Normally, Buffy had a look of complete determination when she was sparring. At the moment, both she and her counterpart had gotten to their feet, and Buffy was battling him across the room with a dagger she'd snatched from a wall mount, delivering quite a few perfect handflips and snapkicks. That was generally a good thing. Giles had never seen her let go so easily and be so fluid with her brawling. She was pretty much wiping the floor with Spike, and once again, that was a good thing. Except she had a huge smile plastered on her face and her green eyes were unusually bright.

Yeah, he had the wiggins.

"Had enough, baby?" Spike growled, grabbing her arm with one hand and wrapping the other around her waist. Jerking her back side against his front, he ran his hand -- the one blocked from the Watcher's line of sight -- straight down the Slayer's body, cupping her ass. Buffy shuddered, closing her eyes for a moment, then discreetly pushed him away, spinning out of his grasp. Doing a no-hands back flip, her legs swung up with her, colliding with his face and sending him flying back. He smacked against the wall and groaned as he slid to the ground. Buffy gasped for breath as she landed on her feet. She tossed her hair back, gasping.

"Not yet, Spike."

An enormous smile overtook Spike's face and he leapt up, running for her. Swooping her up, he chuckled menacingly when she unintentionally let out a small shriek as he pinned her up to a wall. Pulling back, he hauled off, hitting her cheek hard, then hit her again before she could retaliate. This time, Buffy headbutted him and pushed him away, dropping to her feet. Spinning, she lifted her leg and kicked him, then flowed directly into a roundhouse, combined with an uppercut in an adaptation of the move she mentioned to Giles before. All was followed by a barrage of punches, and Spike suddenly found himself on his back on the ground, with Buffy sitting on him.

Uh-oh. That position left a leeeetle too much to the imagination. He could feel his lower half jump in response to the heat flowing from her own crotch.

"Had enough, Spike?" she asked, extending her hand. Spike clasped it, then yanked her down on top of him. Her hand remained clutched in his, squished in between their bodies.

"Not even close to it, luv," he murmured in a husky voice. He felt a tremor go through the Slayer's tiny body, and his nostrils flared as the scent of her arousal doubled all at once. Okay, this was not doing his cock much good. At this rate, his balls were gonna bust, and he's be useless till next Tuesday.

He had to get her out of here.

Buffy pulled herself up, then tugged Spike up by their still-attached fists. She eyes, lust obvious in her eyes, and she chewed on her lower lip before dropping his hand and turning quickly to Giles.

"Uh, Spike and I should probably... patrol. You know, check and see if there's any action or... something from that woman that's looking for... for Dawnie." Giles looked up in alarm, eyeing Spike.

"Buffy, don't you, ah, mean --"

"I told him, Giles," she interrupted. The Watcher glanced back and forth wearily between the two blondes. Spike nodded his head in confirmation of his knowledge that Dawn was the Key.

"What, er... possessed you to tell him?" he asked uncertainly, not holding his footing too well with his words. Buffy looked at him, then looked at Spike, shrugging. She replied simply, "I trust him."

Spike's head shot up, and he stared long and hard at the Slayer. She looked at him meaningfully, a barely perceptible twitch of a smile gracing her face.

Ohhh-hooo, just give him a bed, some cuffs, whipped cream, wine, and about ten hours, he'd show her just what he thought of that. As it was, he was fully prepared to fuck her right into the ground.

Giles eyed the vampire, and bristled slightly at the look on his face. This entire situation was making him nervous. But what he absolutely hated was that he could voice his opinion about Buffy and Spike and their new-found... uh... attachment to each other, and Buffy would ignore every single word coming out of his mouth, and Spike would tease and hassle him about it. Both Slayer and Vampire were so damn bullheaded that any warnings Giles issued would be neglected entirely. Which meant that...

He could do absolutely nothing. He sighed and nodded, feeling a sudden lack of energy to argue with his Slayer, and being very much in need of a LOT of Scotch. "Go on, Buffy. Please remember to check in if you don't come across anything out of the ordinary."

Buffy nodded quickly. "Yup, you got it, Giles. Check In Girl, that's me!" she giggled as she started for the door. Spike followed her promptly, nodding his head at the Watcher.

"Later, Rupert," he muttered, stalking out the door. Giles crossed his arms and waited.

A second later, Spike sheepishly poked his head back in, grabbed his duster and cigarettes, then walked back out without a second look.

Giles sighed.

"Buffy, where ya going? And why's... he going with?" Xander queried. He was about as nervous as Giles was about the situation between those two. Buffy turned and looked at him with wide, innocent eyes as Spike brushed past her and waited at the door, giving Xander an insolent glare.

"Oh, we're just going for patrol, that's all. Take care of Dawnie for me?" she asked. Willow nodded.

"Of course, Buffy. She's safe here, snug as a bug in a rug," the Wiccan quoted, grinning. Buffy smiled back in relief.

"Good, great. Thanks, guys. I should be back around..." her eyes strayed to Spike for confirmation. "Midnight." He nodded discreetly. "Okay, ah... where is Dawn?" she asked, looking around. Xander raised his hand.

"Anya conned her into doing some inventory with her. I don't know how, please don't ask."

Buffy nodded. "Gotcha. Well. Okay, leaving now. For patrol," she said, an enormous grin on her face. She strode out the door and Spike nodded to the girls, then smirked at Xander, offering him the one-finger salute. He rushed after Buffy.

Xander watched the hurried exit, then turned to Willow. "They're going to patrol, right? Please tell me they're going to patrol?"

Willow just looked at him.

Running halfway down the street, Buffy suddenly turned and yanked Spike into a darkened alley, pinning him to a wall and mashing her lips to his. Spike responded in kind, his hands grabbing at every possible part of her. His kisses could have bruised her, but right now, she all but gave a damn. Not touching him was driving her absolutely crazy.

Spike had NEVER wanted someone so much in his life. Her arousal was flaring and any second now, he was gonna rip every single shred of clothing off of her, decency or indecency. His cock was gonna combust in a nanosecond, dammit! His hands roved over her taut body, cupping her breasts and palming them roughly. A passionate moan rumbled past Buffy's lips into Spike's mouth, and he attempted to hoist her up, but she resisted, pulling away. Spike was confused, for obvious reasons, and the Look he gave Buffy voiced his hurt and unspoken complaint.

Her response was much more than he anticipated. His shirt was a button-up, which was probably a good thing as he thought back on it, since Buffy seemed hellbent on ripping and destroying his clothes. He wasn't entirely sure about it. At any rate, Buffy gripped the collar of the silky black shirt and jerked it apart, the buttons snapping right off and flying in every which direction. Spike's eyes widened, and he made an attempt to speak that never made it past his lips. Buffy's mouth descended on his chest, licking and kissing her way to his nipples. Her nimble little tongue swirled around the right nipple before her mouth fixed itself over it. She began to suck. Spike's head rolled back and smacked the wall, moaning low. Her hot little mouth was so much better than he'd even imagined.

"Buffy," he mumbled softly, his eyes shutting. He groaned when Buffy replied with a bite to the nipple. His hand moved up to clutch the back of her head and he pressed himself against her.

Buffy gasped, a dinging sound coming from somewhere inside her head when she felt the bulge in Spike's pants poke into her stomach, then harden further. Okay -- now she was curious. What exactly did he have in there?

She'd only actually seen two male... parts in her life. Parker's was slightly above average length by maybe a quarter of an inch, and Riley had the regular, proper cock that most men had. She'd never gotten a good look at Angel's, since they'd only been together that one night. They'd made love three times, and he'd never let her sneak a peak. Eh. He probably hadn't wanted to freak her out any worse than she already had been.

He'd sure felt big though.

Spike was just rubbing against her at the moment, and she was getting the impression that he had a few eighty pound boulders in there.

Time to find out.

Her hand moved down between them, and she grabbed the button clasp, pulling it open. Her fingers grasped the zipper as her lips moved up to suck on his neck. Spike wasn't reacting to anything she was doing, so he really must've been out of it. Zipper slides down, pants come open, and now there was something really hard... really long... and really pointy stabbing her stomach. Buffy pulled back and Spike stared at her with a glazed expression in his eyes. The Slayer looked down.

Wow.

She looked back up at Spike, an awed expression on her face. Spike stared back at her, licking his lips, and suddenly he couldn't resist. He pulled her to him and mashed his lips to hers. Buffy moaned and kissed him back, clutching at him frantically as both bodies began to rock accordingly to their positions. Spike ground his newly bared cock against her pelvis, thrusting as hard as he could as Buffy pulled her lips away, kissing and licking his neck. Her tongue slid in a straight path down his smooth white chest, then through the soft hair below his navel and the courser hair surrounding the base of his cock. And wasn't it lovely, standing straight up, ivory and mahogany, looking like a new tower standing amidst the rubble of an old one.

She trailed her tongue up the shaft before allowing her lips the pleasure of engulfing the head. Spike's eyes promptly rolled back and he cried out, his head falling back and repeatedly smacking against the wall. His hands shot toward Buffy's head, his long, slender fingers twisting and entangling themselves in her blonde curls. Buffy pushed forward, beginning to bob her head, her mouth forming a tight suction around the whole of his cock.

Damn -- and he'd thought her mouth on his chest was heaven!

It was odd -- he'd always had some sort of attraction to her. The first time he'd seen her (albeit dancing), he'd been simply amazed. The way she moved was unlike that of any of the Slayers he'd ever encountered. Buffy was lithe, agile, quick on her feet and with a bitching, quick-witted attitude to boot. Granted, he'd had more of a lust for her blood at first, but sometime after their first truce, the lust had cooled to more of a 'fuck-her-unconscious, then-drink-her-when-she-wakes' type thing. Right now, it had pretty much digressed to a simple 'fuck-her-every-moment-of-every-day-till-she's-senseless' deal.

Of course, he had yet to actually fuck her.

Which was exactly what was gonna happen if she even thought of taking that glorious mouth off of his aching cock.

He'd never thought that bloodlust and hate for someone that was so much his equal could give way to passion and... well, normal lust. Eh, not so normal. What the hell was so normal about a Vampire Slayer and a Vampire, especially two as renowned as they were, getting it on? Obviously not too much.

He was supposed to hate her; supposed to want to kill her, to drain her of her blood. When he'd first gotten the chip out, that had been what he'd initially wanted. He'd been dying to kill her, practically salivating at the thought of draining her. But lying on top of her in the doctor's office, drinking her thick, luscious blood, breathing in the intense headiness of her distinct arousal, his body rubbing against hers in all the right places and fitting against hers so perfectly... Something had happened, something in the air had snapped and he's been left wanting nothing but her. He wanted to feel her heat forever, feel her essence surround every inch of him, envelope him and draw him in even further.

That was why he had claimed her, he realized. He had the chip out, yeah, he could gloat and yelp as much as he wanted to the vampires and demons at the bars he went to. William the Bloody was back and even badder, and his first act of business as the One True Big Bad had been to sauce the Slayer and claim her as his.

Yeah, he could do that. But why? What on earth would be the point of it? He'd been aligned with Buffy, albeit reluctantly at first, since last year, and all the demons he knew no longer trusted him. He was still evil -- hell fucking yeah he was! There was no way in hell that some dinky little chip was taking that away from him -- but it obviously wasn't gonna be top priority anymore. There was something much more important that had gained his full attention now.

And it was incredibly apparent that he wanted Buffy -- insert 'big duh' here. But he wanted her -- not just her body, her blood, or the damn sex (which he still wasn't getting...) -- Spike wanted her to be his. Always his, and always there. He -- heh, he wanted to go to sleep next to her every night, and wake up next to her in the mornings and why for the love of GOD was he turning into such a goddamn poofy GIT?!

Anyway, Spike was jolted back to reality when he realized all of this. It hit him, much like Buffy's punches did when she was extra pissed at him: he really was in love with her. He'd thought his dream, and his first realization had just been some strange, fucked-up flukes, things that had only been brought on by his arousal that night. He had, after all, been simultaneously drinking Slayer's blood and grinding against her -- he didn't know how many times her had to say it, Jesus H. Christ, but Vampire + Slayer's blood = INCREDIBLY HORNY!

That dream had actually done him some good, though -- at least it had awakened him to his attraction. And now it looked like it had helpfully pushed him toward something earth-shaking: he truly was in love with Buffy Summers.

It would be so much easier to hate her.

Not now, though. He couldn't ever hate her again, not after what they'd shared. He couldn't go back now, even if he wanted to. He could try to hate her as much as he wanted, but the truth was that he'd admitted his love for her.

And one day, loving the Slayer was gonna get him killed.

But it didn't matter now. Because every second he was with this girl made his inevitable but incredibly far-off death more worth it than he could imagine.

Especially in this position.

Buffy's hot, tight little mouth had him right on the edge of his climax, and her sneaky little hands slid into his pants, cupping his firm ass and digging her nails into his skin. Spike gave a long, heady moan, pitching forward and pushing his cock further into her mouth. Buffy gave a muffled 'mmph!' but pushed forward anyway. Her hands moved to his front, the nails of one hand stroking his scrotum while her other hand gently cupped his balls, rolling the large smooth orbs in her palm and squeezing them.

Spike groaned again, his fingers nearly digging right through the Slayer's scalp as he shot his load into her mouth. Nearly completely dazed, and only half-conscious, he barely noticed as the Slayer swallowed each pump of cool seed he gave as he thrust himself desperately past her soft lips. If he had, he probably would've been shocked right back to life. Not even Dru had swallowed -- actually, Dru hadn't even been that keen on sucking him off, either. She'd do it once in a while, yes, but she much rather preferred to be on the receiving end of she and Spike's naughty fun time.

All this simply made Spike fall even more in love with Buffy. Not only was she beautiful, a walking time-bomb, the most gifted fighter he'd ever met, the best Slayer in the history of Slayers, and his match in every comprehendible way, but she was the world's best, most gifted cocksucker, too.

Dammit, if it was possible, he would marry this girl.

She stood and wrapped her arms around his neck, meeting his lips for a passionate, hungry kiss. Buffy began to back up against the other wall, running her hands over the chiseled muscles that his torn shirt was playing peek-a-boo with. It was apparent that she wasn't finished with him just yet. At least, he hoped to God she wan't. He took the open opportunity she gave him to shove her against the bricks, his lips sucking and nibbling eagerly at hers as he tasted himself, his large cool hands running up her sides and under her shirt.

The Slayer moaned softly as Spike's fingers captured one hardened little bundle of nerves through her smooth satiny bra, twisting it ever so slightly. Gripping his shoulders tightly, she hoisted herself up, wrapping her legs around his waist. One hand thrust between them as Buffy made an attempt to shimmy out of her workout gear. Spike twitched as he realized what she was doing, and suddenly their whereabouts came slamming into him. No. Oh, no. Not here. Here bad!

"Buff -- no, luv, not -- baby, stop! Not here, pet, not here," he growled softly, trying to tug away. Buffy mewled loudly in displeasure and unwrapped her legs, dropping to the ground. She stared up at him, hurt and confused.

"What? Why?" she asked, her eyebrows scrunching up. Spike tilted his head down to look at her, lifting his hands and placing them firmly on her shoulders.

"Look around, Buffy-luv. This place isn't even fit for you to look at! You deserve better'n this!" He moved a hand from her shoulder to cup her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. "I am NOT gonna bloody incapacitate you in a moldy, rank alley."

Buffy stopped, staring at him. He cared about where they were. He actually gave a damn about where he wanted to have sex with her. That was so unlike the Spike she expected, and yet it was everything she'd been hoping. She could've raped him right then and there, alley or no alley. She looked up at him, flashing a bright smile at him as her hand moved to cover his. "Incapacitate me, huh?" Her other hand moved down to zip up his fly.

Spike smiled down at her, his entire body relaxing as he sighed with relief. He chuckled softly and pressed his lips to hers quickly.

"This is gonna sound poncey as all hell get out, but... I don't know how I put up with things if you're not around. Half the time, I'm getting my ass beat down."

Buffy grinned. "You're right. You do sound... poncey," she teased. Spike growled playfully, poking her in the side until she was full on laughing with her head tossed back. He shook his head and grunted, pulling her up and sighing.

"Come on, luv. We best be gettin' to patrol, lest your Watcher discovers that we were actually havin'... fun... out here."

Buffy favored him with a pout that featured a lower lip jutting out about a foot. "Boo. I want a break." She peered up at Spike. "How mad d'you think Giles'd be if we flew shotgun to Tahiti?"

Spike snorted. "Don't even go there, ducks."

"Phooey."

"'Sides, you know sunny days don't really do too well for my complexion."

A long pause followed as they began walking off toward one of Sunnydale's twelve (thirteen? fourteen?) cemeteries, their fingers touching lightly but not quite. Then Buffy piped up.

"I think you're long overdue for a tan, Spike."

Spike growled and chased her down the road as she shrieked with laughter.

A week later, Dawn entered the front of the Magic Box, to the much not-noticing of everyone else who was either researching or sleeping. Well, Xander was really the only one who was sleeping. She didn't want to THINK about why, but she could be damn sure it had something to do with Anya.

Everyone was a little on edge, especially Buffy for good reasons. A few days before, the Watchers' Council had done what they'd always done best: butting their noses into Sunnydale business, as per usual. They'd pretty much sent them for a loop by revealing that Glory (the fake blonde, curly-haired walking Slut Bomb that had alarmingly more strength than Buffy) was a god.

That pretty much summed up one big-ass "uh-oh."

Needless to say, Buffy was NOT happy.

Anyway. She was probably being silly, but Dawn felt like everyone was going out of their way not to speak to her. Well that was mean. They didn't usually ignore her; in fact, if anything, she was friends with all of them in their own respect. But right now, every time she'd go to look at them, they would turn their heads away or look down.

Those big buttlickers.

Yet how was she to know that Buffy and Giles had finally told the others about a huge secret of Dawn's. One that could end up killing them all. Buffy had seen fit to finally tell them after the Council had warned them that Glory was a hellgod.

It would be safer.

Dawn sighed and leaned against a display, only to have Anya rush at her, balking and screeching. She scowled. Anya could be sweet if she really tried (when it suited her), but how the hell Xander put up with her every single waking moment was beyond her.

Wandering over to the cash register, she poked around through the little odds and ends surrounding it until she came upon an open book. Not a magic book. Journal. With really tiny handwriting. Hmm. Must be Giles'. Xander's handwriting was somewhat legible but chaotic, Anya's flowed smoothly, Buffy's was large and neat, and Willow and Tara both wrote in upright cursive. Besides, the only people she knew that kept journals were her, Buffy, and Giles. She knew better than to leave her own journal lying around, especially at the store, and Buffy barely touched hers anymore. So it HAD to be Giles'.

< He probably has some really juicy stuff in there. >

All it took was that one though (and visions of future blackmail) to get her to pick up the book. She stole into the empty training room with it, hiding it under her jacket to keep herself from being noticed. This was gonna be good.

What she read when she flipped to the journal's most recent entry was anything but good.

It was traumatizing.

She dropped the book and ran.

"Dawn's missing!"

Buffy's head jerked away from Spike and the new punching bag at Willow's exclamation, throwing her aim off so much that she socked Spike right in the gut. He doubled over and groaned as Buffy ran to her best friend.

"What? When? How long?" she implored, grabbing the Wiccan's shoulders and shaking her.

"Buffy. Buffy! Stop, please! Dawn is missing, we just realized it, and we have no idea how long. But she's gone!"

Buffy looked frantic, looking back and forth desperately between Willow and Spike, who was now standing up, rubbing his aching stomach. "Oh my god. Oh my god! We've gotta find her! What if Glory's kidnapped her? What if she finds out that Dawn's the Key? Where could she be, what could've made her – "

The Slayer stopped mid-tirade as she spotted a small, flat lump on the floor. Spike furrowed his brow as he watched her walk toward something near the training mats. He exchanged a glance with Willow, then walked up behind Buffy. "Luv? What is it?"

Buffy crouched and scooped up the open Watcher's journal on the floor. That happened to be open to the most recent entry. She stood up again, holding the notebook in both hands as she stared down at it. Willow moved up behind her, quickly reading the tiny writing in it. She put her hand to her mouth as she read the writing. Buffy looked up at Spike.

"She found out," she whispered. "She knows she's the Key. Giles wouldn't have left his journal in here, he's not careless. Dawn must've found it and read it. There's no other way."

Spike frowned. "Why didn't you tell her in the first place?"

Buffy shook her head. "She wouldn't have –"

"Understood?" Spike interrupted, scowling. "Buffy, it would've made a difference! It would've been better had she heard it from her SISTER, 'stead of findin' out from Rupert's little diary! What the bloody hell's wrong with you? Didn't you realize it was gonna be traumatizin' for her?"

Buffy gave him a sour look. "Spike, back off. You really have no right to lecture me about this, anyway, it was none of your business!"

"You made it my business when you decided to trust me, you little bint! Don't you even fuckin' deny it! Figure it out, Buffy! I care 'bout the little chit, I worry 'bout her much as you do, so don't treat me like I don't matter! You included me, an' I'm here to stay! If you wanna revoke it, fine, FUCK you, too! But don't even think for a minute that Nibblet don't matter to me. She's the only lot of you that I actually give a damn about."

With a final growl, Spike spun and left, snatching his duster up. Buffy stood in the center of the training room with Willow, staring after him in shock.

"How dare he! How dare he even talk to me like that!"

Willow hazarded a glance at her friend. Yeah, she sounded angry. But the look on her face warranted tears. She looked hurt and guilty, and Willow knew that she'd realized that Spike was right. She really should have told Dawn who she was.

And now, they just had to find her.

If they could.
 

TBC

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 

Part 10...
 

Willow put a comforting arm around the Slayer's shoulders, then sighed when she pulled away quickly. Buffy walked out of the training room, clutching the suddenly despised journal. Willow followed briskly.

Xander was bouncing on his heels in anticipation when the girls came out. He'd seen Spike storm out just earlier, and he was hoping to God that once again, Slayer and Vampire had pissed each other off. Then it would finally give Buffy the chance to put a stake through the jerk's undead heart.

"What happened? What happened? What happened?"

Even after he'd gotten the question across, he continued to repeat himself. He sounded like an excitable puppy that was dying for someone to throw a ball. Damn it.

Buffy narrowed her eyes at everyone in the group and looked up when Giles walked down the steps, motioning for him to take a seat. She looks toward Willow, her grim features asking the same of her. Once everyone had been seated, Buffy all but threw Giles' notebook into his lap.

"I found that in the training room. Open," she began quietly. She furrowed her brow, tilting her head at Giles. "By any chance, did you happen to leave that laying around somewhere out here?"

Giles blanched, picking the book up and looking it over. "Uh... p-perhaps. I-I may have... left it on the counter at the register," he stuttered. Then he looked up at Buffy, his eyebrows raised. "It was open, you say?"

Buffy nodded. Pursing her lips, she clasped her arms behind her back and looked around at her friends before continuing. "Can I ask you guys what you were doing for the last two hours or so? I mean... did any of you happen to notice my sister walk in? At all?"

Xander's excitement from earlier had pretty much shattered from the moment Buffy first opened her mouth, and now he raised a sheepish, guilty hand. "Uh... we weren't really paying much attention to her, Buffy."

The Slayer's countenance darkened. "You weren't paying attention to my sister." She turned and began to pace. "All right. So... none of you even saw her come in to the store. NONE... of you saw her take Giles' journal right off of the counter. NONE... of you possibly saw a completely shattered girl run out of here like a bat out of hell?" The entire group looked at each other shamefully. "Right. Of course not. And... how long have you guys not been noticing Dawn?"

Willow bit her lower lip. "Uh... possibly since you told us about the... the, uh... situation with her?"

Buffy stared at Willow, silent for a moment, then laughed in disbelief. "Three days. You've been... ignoring Dawn for three days." She ran her hands over her face and through her hair, then looked back up angrily. "What in the HELL is wrong with you?!"

Anya frowned. "Well, you told us to keep it all on the down low, you know."

Not a good answer. Buffy's eyes widened in rage. "By that I meant not to mention it, out loud, in front of her, EVER! I didn't mean to treat her like an alien or, or the Invisible Man! And now she knows! She found out that she's the Key, and she's run away! What the hell is gonna happen if Glory finds her? Oh my god, why didn't I tell her?"

Buffy clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes glistening and filling with tears. She started again, her voice slightly muffled. "I should have told her, I should've listened to Spike!"

One would have thought she was crying, but instead, Buffy began to hyperventilate, her breathing coming in quick, harsh bursts. She began to rock back and forth. "Oh, god, why didn't I tell her? I should have, I should have told her the second I found out! Spike was right, he was RIGHT, I should've told her!"

Everyone was silent, not one of them sure what to do. Giles finally moved forward, setting his hands on her shoulders, starting a little in surprise when she spun around and hugged him.

"Giles, what am I gonna do? She must be furious with me," Buffy mumbled into his shirt. Willow stepped up and put a hand gently on Buffy's.

"We'll look for her. We'll find her, Buffy. It won't be too hard. I mean, we can," she looked to Tara and grabbed her girlfriend's hand. "We can get some ingredients, and, and do a-a spell to find her. And we can... form search parties, and --"

"Get Spike," Buffy murmured. The group looked at her, and she let go of Giles to stare at them. "Spike's a vampire. He knows Dawn's essence. He could find her, I know he could." She stood up.

Xander began to protest Spike's involvement, but Giles raised his hand to shut him up. "We'll make certain that Spike is retrieved, Buffy. And we will find Dawn, I promise you that." The Slayer nodded but didn't turn around. Instead, she made her way toward the training room to either change or work out her frustrations. The instant Buffy disappeared, Xander spoke up.

"Why do we have to get the peroxide abuser on this?" he complained. "Dawn's part of our family; he's not. I think between me, you, Wills, Tara and Buffy, we can find her pretty easily, without dragging Dead Boy into this."

Giles sighed. "As Buffy said, Spike is our best bet on finding Dawn. He does know her essence. And from the way he acts around her, I believe he considers her to be his own family."

Willow nodded. "Sorry, Xand, but Giles is right. Right before he left, Spike even said that he cared about Dawn. And you know he never truthfully admits to something unless it's really important to him. The favor's in Spike's court right now."

Giles turned to watch the red-head. "I take it Buffy and Spike had an argument?"

She nodded. "About her not telling Dawnie. He left pretty mad."

Giles nodded. "Then I suggest you go after him, Willow."

The Wiccan's eyes widened and nearly fell out of her head. "Me?" she squeaked. "Why me? Does it have to be... me?"

Giles eyed her. "Spike won't harm you; it appears he seems more fond or, or tolerant, of the girls than of Xander or I. He is angry at Buffy, and Buffy is upset -- it wouldn't do to send her after him with both of their emotions twisted up inside of them. If he does attempt to harm you, for whatever reason, you are quite able to defend yourself." He looked away from Willow to eye Xander. "Besides -- I believe you are the wisest choice amongst the three of us."

Willow didn't look convinced -- in fact, she was verging on frantic, near-spasmodic terror. "But--but.... ME. In Spike's crypt? And with him, all... grr and mad-acting?" In a tiny voice, she pleaded, "Can't someone come with?"

Giles frowned at her. "Willow, I know you to be braver than that. I've already told you that Spike will not hurt you." At her desperate, beseeching look, he sighed and relented. "But... if it worries you that much, you can take Tara with you."

Willow bounced up, suddenly much happier, and let out a relieved gasp. "Okay. Round-up squad can-do!" She grabbed Tara's hand. "You can bet we'll be back here in twenty minutes," she called as she followed Tara out the door of the Magic Box."

Xander folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, scowling. "With two full-fledged witches against one vampire, they better be."

"Are you sure this... barrier thing around us is really necessary, Willow?" Tara asked tentatively, waving her arm around in front of her. It really was pointless -- the barrier she was talking about was magical. Willow had conjured it up in her lingering fear of a mad, chipless Spike, and had employed it as a sort of invisible restraining order, not allowing the vampire any more than seven feet near them.

Willow looked up at her girlfriend, wiping a bit of dust off of the hem of her skirt. "Just a safety precaution, honey," she reassured. "I trust him, really I do. Just not that much."

Tara gave Willow an amused grin before both girls turned toward the big iron door of the crypt. Cautiously, Willow raised her hand to knock, and froze as still as possible as the harsh, guttural thuds echoed from the inside out. They waited quietly.

No answer.

They looked at each other, then Willow carefully pulled open the door, poking her head inside. "Spike?" she called out as she and Tara walked in. "A-are you here?"

A grunt sounded from the corner of the room, making the girls jump simultaneously. They looked in the direction of the noise and saw a platinum blonde head resting against the wall. Seated on the sarcophagus, Spike turned his head, fixating his stormy blue eyes on the Wiccans.

"Hmph. Least you knocked." The vampire sighed as he scooched off of the slab, then stood up, grasping something -- oh. A small, lovely little silver flask. So he was drunk. Or at least drinking. Better to deal with him when he was slightly tipsy. He still understood, but he couldn't be bothered to have a fist-fight. Much. "Why're you here, witches?"

Willow spoke up. "Buffy--"

The second the Slayer's name was mentioned, Spike snorted and turned away, lifting the flask and taking a good, solid chug of whatever was in there. Willow ignored him and continued. "Buffy told us to come get you. She said you were the only one who could really stand a chance at finding Dawn."

Spike turned, an irritated look on his face. "So the Princess wants me to come to the rescue? Like a bloody knight in shinin' armor. She want me to save Nibblet, then? Yeh, I'll find Bitty, but 'm not doin' it for her. Stuck up little bitch." He turned and flopped onto the chair in front of his television.

"Thinks she can toss me 'round, order me about. Drags me into somethin', then wants me out the second I counter her. Bitch can't bloody do that, needs to learn the rules. Thinks she's so fuckin' high an' mighty an' all, acts like I'm a speck of dust she takes precious time out to pay attention to. Can't do that, ain't allowed to do that; I'm higher up than she is, anyhow! Should be beggin' me for my attention."

Tara exchanged a look with Willow, then walked up to the vampire... who was immediately bumped back seven feet due to the magical restraining order. He fell on the floor of the crypt, nearly spilling the contents of his flask, and looked around in surprise.

"What the bloody hell --"

Tara quickly made a cutting motion toward Willow, and Willow waved her hand hastily, removing the restriction. Tara moved forward again and gently put a hand on Spike's arm, helping him up. Spike looked up at her, frowning.

"You should be afraid of me. Deathly afraid."

Tara returned his gaze with a gentle smile. "Yeah. I should be." Spike allowed her to help him up, then turned away from her, shaking his head.

"I'm a monster, luv, you should be runnin' in terror as we speak. Why the hell are you treatin' me like a human bein'?" he asked, sighing.

The blonde witch stood still, biting her lower lip for a moment before answering. "Because you act like one."

Spike turned to look at her curiously, before allowing a infinitesimal smile to touch his lips. "That so, pet?"

Tara moved up to him again, putting a hand urgently on his arm. "Buffy's starting to realize it, too. But now isn't the time to dwell on that. Spike, we need you. Buffy and Dawn need you. We've got to find her, and we have to have your help. There's no telling what could happen to her with Glory around. Please, come back to the Magic Box with us."

Spike stared at the girl for a moment. She'd always been so shy whenever she was in his vicinity. Hmph. It really did take times of crisis to show the truth in people's natures. "Slayer good an' ready?"

Tara bit her lip. "She's getting there. She was pretty upset."

Spike nodded. "I would be too, being as Bitty's her only sis."

Tara shook her head. "Because of you."

Spike's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Cos' of me?" He was silent for a bit, contemplating this information. He looked up then, sharing looks with each of the witches. "Let's go then. Bitty needs her Big Bad." < An' so does the Slayer > Spike thought internally, closing the flask and dropping it onto the lounge chair.

He walked over and picked his duster up off the floor, draping it around his shoulders -- and it looked extremely good on him, despite the fact that the twenty-four year old leather sort of clung to his upper back and arms, and his shoulders -- then walked out the door of the crypt.

Tara turned to Willow, noticing that the red-head was gazing at her with a look of extreme shock and admiration. "What is it, Willow?" she asked softly, her demeanor becoming quiet and soft-spoken once again.

Willow gazed at her lover in amazement, an enormous smile gracing her face, before she slid an arm around Tara's waist. "Tara, that was amazing! How did you manage to get through to him like that?"

Tara's hand moved down to clasp the hand around her waist, then wrapped her free arm around Willow's shoulder. The blonde smiled sweetly as she spoke. "Spike needed someone that didn't have a sort of one-sided judgment on him. And since I-I'm not... entirely an outsider, or an official Scooby... I could sort of see both sides. And I could see that... Spike was sort of hurting. He acts all mean and scary, and he is -- he really is -- but it doesn't matter what he is. He still has feelings, and I think Buffy hurt those feelings earlier."

Willow tilted her head. "How do you figure that?"

Tara shrugged. "Spike said that she... dragged him into something, then tried to... push him away and act like he didn't matter. That's kinda what tipped me off."

Willow's smile grew even bigger and she hugged her girlfriend tightly, giving her a soft kiss. "Baby, you are brilliant!"

Buffy put her fingers on her temples and rubbed gently as she sat down next to the table in the back of the magic store. The bell above the door rang loudly and Buffy looked up, hope shooting across her features, then relief as Spike stormed in, followed closely by Willow and Tara, both who were wearing huge smiles of pride. Spike moved around the table to lean against a display, ignoring Anya's immediate squawking. He caught Buffy's gaze, and gave her a small nod of reassurance. She nodded quickly, then looked around to the rest.

"Guys, we have to find her," she began quietly, looking around the table at her allies. "Fast. Before Glory figures out what - who she really is. Mom's gonna stay at home in case she shows up. I figure we split up and sweep the city." The Slayer stood up and directed the first assignment toward the ex-demon. "Anya. Will you stay here in case she shows up?" Anya nodded quickly, her face grim. Normally, she ignored things, let them fly right by. But Glory finding Dawn meant an upset Slayer, and the end of the world as they knew it. And the end of the world meant no more Xander, or friends, or money. And that was bad. So she was getting her ass on the ball this time.

Buffy turned toward the men. "Xander, Giles, you guys take the center of town. Willow, Tara, west side. Spike, you and I'll get the east side." A quick nod from each group gave her confirmation and Spike moved to stand beside her as everyone stood up. Buffy exchanged a look with him, then turned to everyone again. "Just find her... please."

A small, lanky figure moved through a playground that night, looking about sadly. Dawn eyed the swing set with despondence.
 

<< A younger Dawn sat on a swing at a park somewhere in Los Angeles as a younger Buffy with darker hair, and no knowledge of what was to happen to her when she turned fifteen, pushed her from behind.

"Betcha can't push me all the way around!" the younger Dawn yelled, an enormous grin covering her happy, chubby little face. The younger Buffy giggled in response.

"Oh yes I can!" she answered, and set out to prove herself to her sister.

"No you can't!" the younger Dawn shouted, despite being proven wrong by her sibling immediately. Their laughs and giggles filled the air, a final symbol of the innocence of their former lives. >>
 

Dawn snapped back to reality, staring at the dark, empty swing set, her face scrunching up, tear tracks covering her cheeks. She turned and walked away.

Xander walked along steadily beside Giles, peering behind and into a dumpster, as the elder man searched behind a few trash cans. Their search had taken them to downtown Sunnydale and, at the moment, a very creepy looking alley. Xander sighed.

"There's so many things I remember. Seeing Dawn ... hanging with her ... listening to Buffy complain about her. Mostly that last one." He looked somberly at Giles. "How could it be that all those things never really happened?"

Giles sighed. "Well, it takes some getting used to. The idea of a ... bright fourteen-year-old actually being living energy thousands of years old."

The two continued to stroll along, though it was obvious that their search was not warranting anything.

"I'm guessing some kind of super-powerful in her raw form," Xander commented, swiping at an empty bag.

Giles nodded resignedly. "People have killed, died for it ... summoned armies to control the key."

There was a moment of silence, then out of no where, Xander piped up with, "You know, uh ... she kinda has a crush on me."

Giles glanced at the boy, his face not revealing any enthusiasm over the subject. "Your point being?"

The look on Xander's face was mulish and self-satisfied at the same time. He stopped walking and answered, "Well nothing, no, uh ... just saying, powerful being ... big energy gal digging the Xan-man." He grinned, and Giles regarded him with a frown. "Some guys are just cooler, you know?"

Giles turned and walked away from him, rolling his eyes and praying mentally for patience. Why was it that he always got stuck with Xander, anyway?

Xander followed quietly.

As she and Spike strode through the playground at Sunnydale Elementary, Buffy repeatedly called out, "Dawn? DAWN!"

Spike was starting to get that old, irritated feeling again. "Yeah, that should do it."

Buffy's head whipped around and she glared at him. "Shut up."

Spike scowled at her. "The Nibblet scampered off to get away from you. She hears you bellowing, she's gonna pack it in the opposite direction." They stopped walking, and he gave her a meaningful Look before glancing around at their surroundings. "Can't say I blame her," he muttered.

Great. As if she wasn't feeling guilty enough. She moved closer to Spike, cautiously touching his hand. "You were right," she said softly, staring at the ground. Spike's head whipped around and he looked at her in surprise, his eyebrows rising. "This is my fault," she continued. "I should've told her."

He stared at her for a moment, and felt himself soften, his heart twisting and aching for her. She looked so... vulnerable, helpless. < Balls > he thought, irritated. He was supposed to be mad at her, but one helpless look, and she had him cornered. He carefully put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. He sighed.

"Look, she probably would have skipped off anyway, even if she never found out," he began softly, rubbing her arm. "She's not just a blob of energy, she's also a fourteen-year-old hormone bomb." He sighed again, shaking his head. "Which one's screwin' her up more right now, spin the bloody wheel." He looked down at her, pleased to find that she was now looking up at him; listening to him. "You'll find her, just in the nick of time, that's what you hero types do."

Buffy grasped his arm tightly, looking up at him hopefully. < Do you mean that? > her eyes said.

Spike raised a hand to stroke her hair, then gently kissed her forehead. "You'll find her," he said in a firm, quiet voice.

Buffy leaned into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. "And then what?" she whispered as they continued to walk.

Dawn sat quietly in a chair, a mixture of fright, awe, and confusion on her face. She could not have just...

Ben had just turned into Glory.

Dawn had wandered to the hospital after she'd left the playground, feeling an urge to listen to what the psychos had to say about her. They'd all known, each of them had known, had seen a green light coursing around her. She'd tried to make them talk, tried to get them to tell her what she was, when one of them had mentioned something about the Key being a link, and the link needing to be severed.

When he started repeating, "Such is the will of God," she got even more freaked.

She'd backed up and ran right into Ben, the doctor who had been there when her mother had needed to come in. It had been the morning before Spike had first bitten Buffy. Ben took her to the locker room of the hospital and made her some hot chocolate. They'd started talking, and suddenly everything had just spilled out -- she wasn't real. She was a thing. Ben had begun to freak out and scared her badly -- "You're what she's been searching for! I am telling you, run!" -- and then...

Right in front of her eyes, Ben had turned into the woman before her. Glory. The so-called Hell God.

"Ugh, cotton!"

Dawn's attention snapped around and she stared at the blonde woman, who had her back to her, squirming out of the blue scrubs that Ben had been wearing. "Could a fabric be anymore annoyingly pedestrian?" she muttered, reaching into the locker she stood in front of. "Now this is what I'm talking about," she continued, smiling as she pulled a red silk blouse over her head. "Makes your skin sing."

Dawn swallowed hard. "You're -- you're Ben..."

Stretching her arms behind her to button the blouse, Glory sniffed. "Uh, it's an eensy more complicated than that. Family always is, isn't it?"

Okay. Now she was steadily getting more freaked. Dawn looked anxiously toward the door, wondering how fast she could run to get there before Glory would catch her.

"You'd never make it." Dawn's head spun around and she looked toward Glory, whose back was still facing her. She gulped again. "I'd rip out your spine before you got half a step. And those little legs?" Glory smiled over her shoulder at the girl. "They wouldn't be much good without one of those."

And suddenly, Glory was right there next to her, bent down in order to see eye to eye with the fourteen-year-old. "Would they, Dawnie?"

Dawn gasped, jumping back in surprise. < Don't freak out, don't freak out.... >

"Now... what I'm trying to noodle is what in the world is the Slayer's little sis doing here with gentle Ben?" Glory asked, tilting her head.

Dawn tried as hard as she could not to scream. "Y-You don't remember?"

It was funny. As terrifying as this was, Glory looked as sweet and gentle as could be as she brushed a lock of Dawn's hair off of her shoulder. "Remember what? You were talking to him, not me." Then she gasped, and grabbed Dawn's chin, forcing the girl to look at her. "Oh, he wasn't being naughty, was he?"

A guard then chose the wrong moment to enter. Seeing Glory and Dawn, he frowned and moved forward. "Excuse me, ma'am, this area is for hospital personnel--"

Glory turned and, grabbing the guard's head viciously, she twisted it around, snapping his neck. The guard fell to the floor and Dawn gasped in fear. Glory turned around and bent down to Dawn again.

"Rude! I was talking!" She sighed, then pulled Dawn off of her feet. "What do you say we find a nice place off the beaten," she suggested, grabbing Dawn by the front of her blouse and spinning her around, "Where you and I can have a long uninterrupted chat."

An extremely terrified Dawn was pushed out the door.

They'd followed a trail to the hospital, and were having absolutely no luck whatsoever. Buffy turned away from the reception disk and looked dejectedly at Spike. "She wasn't brought in," she murmured.

Xander tilted his head. "That's a happy thing, right?"

Buffy sighed, rubbing her hands over hers eyes. "I don't know... I --"

A doctor hurried by, followed by a group of security guards. "..found him on the floor in the break room. You guys gotta see him. His head's almost twisted clean off."

Buffy's head shot up and she watched as the doctor disappeared down the hall. She swallowed hard. "Glory."

They ran.

Xander came up behind the goddess and slammed a tire iron down on her head. Glory spun around and grabbed it away from him, glaring angrily. "Hey! Watch the hair!" She flung Xander away from her, sending him flying right back into Giles. The two men crashed into the x-ray screen, sending an explosion of sparks all over the place. Dawn shrieked, covering her head and cowering.

Glory pointed the tire iron at both of them. "Time to start the dyin'!" she called, then spun around, pointing the tire iron at Dawn. "Start with the whelp!"

The tire iron was thrown like a javelin at the fourteen-year-old, and Dawn shrieked again, her eyes widening in horror. Buffy looked up instantly.

"Dawn!" she gasped, then threw herself in the path of the iron, allowing it to impale her upper chest. Buffy hit the ground and moaned softly in pain. Dawn's eyes widened and she began crawling towards her older sister.

"Buffy!" she cried out.

Buffy looked up. "Get back!"

Glory grinned menacingly. "Nice catch. Is that the best you little crap-gnats can muster?" She watched in amusement as Buffy pulled the tire iron out of her with a wince of pain. "Cuz I gotta tell ya, so not impressed."

She stormed in between Willow and Tara, whose chants had reached their crescendo. The Wiccans each threw a handful of sparkling dust on the goddess, covering her entire dress and body in the shimmer. Glory's eyes widened in outrage.

"Look what you did to my dress, you little--"

Willow clapped her hands once. "Decede!"

As Glory exploded and disappeared into a cloud of dust, Willow dropped to the floor. Tara looked over at her and gasped, running to her side. "Willow!"

Buffy's look was one of amazement as she stared at Willow, and then she was brought back as she remembered her sister. "Dawn," she gasped, then pulled the girl to her, hugging her tightly. She looked back at the witches curiously. "What did you do to her?"

Willow panted heavily, her hand wiping at the blood dripping from her nose. "Teleportation spell. Still working out the kinks, you know, here and there."

Buffy frowned. "Where did you send her?"

Willow bit her lip and looked at Buffy. "Don't know. That's one of those kinks." Buffy let out a small, relieved laugh as Giles stood up and made his way over to the girls. He leaned down and helped Tara stand Willow up, shaking his head.

"That was an incredibly... dangerous spell for an adept at your level," he chastised, frowning.

Willow looked around, dazed. "Yep. Won't be trying that one again soon."

Xander got up from his little mass of x-ray wires at the same time that Spike sat up, with a superbly annoyed look on his face. He promptly stood up and glared around. "Where the hell did she go? Don't tell me I missed it!"

Xander glanced at the vampire, and couldn't help the grin that appeared on his face. "You missed it all, buddy."

Spike growled and kicked a tray of operating utensils. "Dammit!" He glanced at his surroundings, then finally noticed Buffy and Dawn sitting on the ground next to each other. Both girls were wounded, and he hurried over, standing over them at their shoulders. Dawn looked up at him and gave him a weak smile. The smile faded as Buffy spoke.

"Are you okay? Did she hurt you?" she asked desperately.

Dawn looked away. "What do you care?"

Buffy looked at her in amazement. "Because I love you. You're my sister, Dawn."

Dawn's head stayed down. "No, I'm not. I'm not real. I'm just something that was made up, then plopped into your life. You don't care about me because I'm your fake sister, you care because I'm your job. You have to protect me from Glory. If I wasn't here, you wouldn't even have to worry about her. I shouldn't be here anyway. I'm not your sister." She looked blankly at the floor. "I'm not anything."

Buffy eyed her sister, noticing the bleeding wound along her arm. "Don't say that. Don't you dare say that. Yes, you are. You are something. You're Dawn Summers, you're my sister, and you're Joyce's daughter." She lifted Dawn's bloody arm, assuming the wound had come from being tossed around by Glory. "Look. Look at this -- it's blood. It's Summers blood."

Buffy's free hand pressed into the tire iron wound in her chest and she bit her lip, wincing from the pain. Swallowing it up, she pressed her bloody hand against Dawn's, holding them together. She looked her sister directly in her eyes. "It's just like mine. It doesn't matter where you came from, or... or how you got here. You are my sister." She paused for a second, lifting her other hand up to touch Dawn's cheek. "There's no way you could annoy me so much if you weren't."

Dawn stared at Buffy, sniffling softly. Her eyes filled with tears, and she let out a tiny sob, moving toward Buffy and hugging her tightly. Buffy swallowed hard and tried to blink back her own tears, hugging Dawn back in a death grip. "I was so scared," Dawn whispered, crying softly.

Buffy gently stroked the girl's hair, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "Me, too... me too."

A small, unwitting smile came to Spike's face as he watched his girls, and he looked about, noticing the others staring at them. Willow rubbed at her eyes while Tara looked on fondly, a gentle smile placed on her soft mouth.

Buffy took no notice of them, and instead took a deep breath. "Come on." The Slayer stood, and pulled Dawn up with her. "I have to get you back home. Mom's freaking out."

Dawn's eyes widened. "Oh... how bad did I scare her?"

Buffy tilted her head. "I think you sorta have a get-out-of-jail-free card on account of big love and trauma."

Dawn gave a relieved sigh. "Really? Okay. Good." She grasped Buffy's hand, then looked up at Spike. She tentatively reached for him, and Spike raised his scarred eyebrow in surprise, then shrugged and let her hang on to his arm.

The four Scoobies behind them exchanged glances, then Willow and Tara grinned, hurrying after the three. Xander and Giles grimaced, but followed, catching up in time to hear Dawn asking for a raise in her allowance.

Buffy gave her a Look. "Don't push it."

Dawn grinned. "Hey, it was worth a try."

Buffy scrunched her nose up at the fourteen-year-old. "You're lucky I love you, little Miss JD."

A knock on the door of her bedroom.

"Come in!" Dawn called. She figured it would be Mom, running in for the hundredth time to scold her and coddle her all at once. She started in surprise when she saw Spike glide in, melding with the shadows of her room, the very little light in the room glinting off of his blond head.

If she hadn't seen the change in him at the beginning of the year, she might be scared out of her wits right now. He was in his stalking face. She sat up on her bed, looking at him.

"What's up, Spike?"

The vampire got down on his knees in order to see eye level with her. After the thing with Glory at the hospital, he'd walked the girls home, much to Xander's dismay. < Haha! > had been Spike's main thought. When Joyce had seen him walk in, she'd been startled. When he and Buffy grasped Dawn and pulled her in, she'd actually went up to him and hugged him.

Now Spike was the one freaking out.

"Can I ask you one thing, luv?" he began, not looking at Dawn.

Dawn shrugged. "Go ahead."

Spike lifted his eyes to her. "Could you an' your mum not get so.... touchy-feely with me an' all? I'm still the Big Bad, an' a story gettin' 'round that Spike's gotten soft on the Slayer's mum and kid sis is gonna be murder on me, chip or no chip."

Dawn grinned. "I can't promise you that I'll stop with the mushy. I can get Mom to, but I can restrict myself to inside the house whenever you come around." She eyed him. "Which you will be doing a lot more, right?"

Spike smirked. "I concede nothin'. Stop bein' such a nosy little nit. You nearly scared the Slayer to an early grave tonight, Bit."

The teenager looked down remorsefully. "I know. She knows I'm sorry, though, doesn't she?"

Spike nodded. "Yeh, she knows. Don't mean it'll go away that easy. You're gonna hafta build up a helluva lot of brass to get them to trust you again. You saw Joyce when you walked in. She nearly had a heart attack; she was bloody mollified seein' you, all safe an' sound." He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face up to meet his gaze. "Take it from me, pet. Don't do things that you'll regret, 'specially to your mum. Believe me, you'll feel like rippin' out your own heart later on to make the hurt stop."

Dawn watched him. "I don't suppose you'd want to talk about..."

He looked up sharply. "No. I wouldn't."

She backed away meekly. "Okay, okay. Sorry."

Spike grunted, looking around the violet colored room. Hmph. Parental Advisory Warning label blown up fifty times its original size and stapled onto the wall. He liked this girl.

He stood up, then looked down at her. "One more thing, 'fore I go."

She raised her eyes to him. "Yes?"

His hand grasped her arm and twisted it to the side, revealing the long, harsh cut from earlier, which was only now beginning to clot. Dawn winced and bit her lower lip, trying not to look at the wound. "Been cuttin' yerself, haven't you, pigeon?"

"Yes," she mumbled softly. She glanced up at Spike, frantically. "Please don't tell Buffy or Mom. They both think that Glory did it to me at the hospital tonight. You won't tell them, will you? Please don't tell, Spike!"

The vampire sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head. He looked at her again after a moment. "Not a soul, luv. I won't tell a soul."

A relieved smile appeared on Dawn's face, and she threw herself at the vampire, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. "Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!" she squealed.

Spike growled, hugging her back reluctantly, then peeled her off of him. "What'd I tell you? Keep the lovey-dovey crap down to a minimum, dammit!"

Oh, like it mattered. Dawn was too damn happy right now to give a damn. She grinned brightly at him. "I will, I promise! Thank you, though! Thank you so much!"

Spike rolled his eyes, turning around and waving her away. "Yeah, yeah..." He closed the door to Dawn's room and made his way down the hallway, looking at Joyce's door. He listened, trying to discern if she was sleeping, then nodded his head as her heard her light breathing and soft snores. He turned toward Buffy's room, then reeled slightly as he came face to face with her, standing in her doorway with a long black T-shirt on... Wait a minute, that was his... ohhhhh.

He smirked slightly. "You kept it, then? Was certain you would've tossed it on a pile of rubbish."

Buffy shrugged, looking down at herself. "Well... I have all these... strappy tops and blouses and stuff... I don't own enough T-shirts. So I figured... what the hell, you know?"

Spike nodded slowly, gazing at her for a moment. "Yeah, I gotcha," he murmured softly. He would've given anything at that moment to pull her into his arms, kiss her breath away and tell her he loved her. Except that... he remembered he was supposed to be mad at her. Damn. He forced his gaze to harden.

"Well. Best be headin' out. Got stuff to do tomorrow. Evil, an' all that. Wouldn't wanna get dragged into any plans of yours or anythin'. You know the kind. Where I'm trusted with somethin' huge, then told I should've had no part to begin with?"

He really could be the King of Bluntness when he wanted to be.

Dammit, if that lower lip started trembling, he was gonna stake himself. Buffy looked up at him, ambivalently.

"I'm sorry about today, Spike. I'm in the wrong, I know." Spike crossed his arms, clearly expecting more. Buffy bit her lip and continued. "I was... rude, and... heartless with everything I said. I shouldn't have been. You hit me a few home truths, and I reacted like a child. And I'm sorry. I'm really, REALLY sorry, and PLEASE for the love of God, say something or my head is gonna explode! Come on, Spike!"

Spike smirked at her, refusing to say a thing. Buffy stomped her foot, pouting. "Spike, come on, please! I'm sorry, I really am, you KNOW I am! I didn't mean it, I was being stupid, and you were just trying to help! I know this, I know it all, now forgive me before I kick your ass all the way back to your crypt!"

Spike snorted and started laughing. "Well, how can a bloke resist an apology like that?" Buffy's lower lip began to jut out and Spike growled. "All right, all right, I forgive you! Jesus... damn women..."

Buffy smiled at him then, taking his hand. She moved into his arms, resting her head on his chest. "Spike," she whispered softly. "I really am sorry."

Spike stared down at her and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and hugging her back tightly. "I know, luv," he whispered back into her hair, kissing the top of her head. She moved slightly and tilted her head up to kiss him softly, her lips gliding gently over his for a single moment.

"Spike?" she continued softly when she pulled away.

He tilted his head toward her. "Yeh?"

She bit her lower lip and chewed on it for a moment. Then: "Would... would you stay the night with me? No strings attached. No, uh..." she blushed. "No extracurricular activities or anything. Just... us." She peered up at him to see if he'd understood. "You know?"

He knew all too well. Wow. He nodded slowly, then kissed her again as she led him into her bedroom.

A moment later, the two were lying on Buffy's bed, Spike on his back with Buffy slowly falling asleep on his chest. Her arm was draped across his waist, and her body was half on top of him, her head tucked neatly under his chin, and Spike in turn had one arm wrapped around her own tiny waist.

He'd never felt more comfortable in his life. This was... This was actually something. He actually had something here. He was here, with the Slayer. She was in his arms, falling asleep. This was what he'd been wanting the other night. To fall asleep with her at night, to wake with her in the morning, in his arms. It was real. It had become reality, and it was right. Nothing had ever felt more right before.

This was where he was supposed to be. Right here, with Buffy, Dawn and Joyce.

There'd been a change in him before, due to Tara's kindness. With the exception of Buffy's Watcher and Harris as Buffy's surrogate brother figure, Spike was... accepted amongst the Scoobies. To the women of the group, Spike was one of them.

Maybe it was just his devilish grin and roguish good looks. Women went for bad boys -- wasn't his fault.

He grinned to himself. < Just my pleasure. >

Ah, ah, ah. Not allowed to do that anymore. He had a... a thing now. He wasn't sure what to call it. A relationship? An... understanding?

How the hell could he define this thing with the Slayer?

Anyway, he wasn't allowed to hit on women anymore. He was... he was...

Oh, for Christ's sake, he'd figure it out later. It didn't matter right now. What did matter was the tiny woman lying in his arms, asleep. He looked down at her, noticing that her breathing had evened out, and she indeed was asleep.

He stared at her quietly for a moment, brushing a lock of blonde hair out of her face. Spike sighed, contemplating this... this oddity. He must be completely out of his head to be in love with her. But he was. And it felt so... incredibly... right.

He leaned down, kissing her mouth softly. It didn't even matter to him anymore, if she claimed him back or not. He was in love with her. That was enough for him. And since she would probably shrink away with horror if he ever said it out loud to her face... this would be his only chance to say it to her face-to-face without being killed. Even though she wouldn't hear it.

He leaned back, pulling her with him, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. "I love you, Buffy," he whispered softly, kissing her forehead. Finally, he allowed his head to fall back against the pillow.

From his vantage point, Buffy slept on. But inside Buffy's brain, connections were being made, pieced together and registering with her, being shot up to the forefront of her mind.

The Slayer's eyes slowly opened, then grew wide as Spike's words forced their way through her foggy mind. She turned her eyes upward toward the ceiling, as if glaring at the very Powers themselves.

< Oh, very funny. >

Man... those guys had a sick sense of humor.
 
 

TBC...

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