Part XV

It didn’t take thirty seconds after situating himself in the back of Willow's Neon that Spike started grumbling about leaving Buffy alone with Garrett. Of course, he didn’t out and out say it but the two women in the front seat didn’t need to hear it to discern Spike's sullen mood. They traded smiles at one another, content to talk about the upcoming summer while glancing in the rearview to catch glimpses of the moody ex-vampire.

Spike was oblivious to the amused scrutiny of the two women up front, instead intent on having himself a good sulk. His thoughts were a swarm, rising and falling, not quite in sync yet moving decidedly in the same direction: Buffy and Garrett alone.

To be honest, Spike knew that he had no say in what Buffy did and didn’t do, considering that he was the detestable sod that left for two years without a word. It was unreasonable (and down right ballsy) to think that he had a leg to stand on. Well, that was what the rational part of him preached. Of course, 'rational' was not what Spike would call his forte. He was more accustomed to living on the cusps of irrational (in)sanity, treading that fine line between emotional meltdown and villainous coolness, both of which were responsible for his fair share of trouble in good old Sunny Hell.

I love this town, he thought sardonically, closing his eyes. In truth, no other place held memories as painful as the quaint town. Though he had done his fair share of ass-kicking here, he had also been beat down and bloodied more than his liking and that wasn’t limited to just the physical variety. No, his already unstable psyche had been dealt a crippling blow the first time he laid eyes on the slayer, though that was knowledge he had only figured out recently. In fact, the emotional damage he had received (all of which led back to the slayer in some way, shape or form, thank you very much) far surpassed any physical injuries he had suffered. Yet here he was, back again on a promise to stay. The more he thought about it, the more Buffy's words in the abandoned building made sense. He was in love with pain then, invigorated into some masochistic frenzy at the internal ache he received at every slice of Buffy's quick-witted and highly accurate tongue. She had said he loved getting beat down by her words and her fists and she was right and not only then but now as well.

Spike was still addicted to the pain. After all, it was his only rationalization for still being here.

"Isn’t that right, Spike?" Dawn’s innocent voice filtered through the distortion in the former vampire’s mind.

"What was that, Bit?" Spike sat up in his seat and focused on the young woman in the passenger’s seat.

"Oh, I was just saying that it seems as if vampires-or ex-vamps, as the case may be-of a certain order tend to brood more so than those of other orders."

"What are you tryin’ to say, Niblet?" Spike asked warningly. The crankiness he was feeling came to the fore and he was sure that, if her were still a vampire, his game face would have shifted into place.

"Nothing," she sung sweetly before examining her nails. Spike buried the growl rising in his chest with a cough that sounded an awful lot like ‘bullshit’. It wasn’t until he saw the amused smirks on the two women’s faces that Spike knew he’d been had.

"Ha-bloody-ha," he drawled and ‘accidentally’ kicked the backs of both seats. "So bloody mature you two."

"Oh and you are the paragon of maturity back there," Willow deadpanned.

Dawn turned in her seat and gave her former (and possibly future) best friend with a sympathetic blame. "Spike, come on. It’s not like she’s going to go run away with him."

"Not yet," he muttered and crossed his arms.

"Spike," Willow said and eyed him in the rearview mirror, "you’ve got to understand, two years have passed since you guys have seen each other. She’s started a new life and everything, complete with her own beau. You can’t expect her to just drop everything for you." Though her words carried sympathy and support typical of the red head, the words still stung Spike.

"S’not what I was thinkin’, Red," he replied sharply.

Willow bit her lip, hesitant to speak about her own insights into Buffy’s train of thought. She didn’t want to push the former lovers in any direction that they weren’t ready to travel on their own. Instead, she looked to Dawn, beckoning the brunette to speak for her.

"No, you didn’t say it, but you were sure as hell thinking it."

"Niblet…"

"No, Spike, you have to listen, okay? The fact of the matter is what happened between you and Buffy was messed up. Now, while it was primarily Buffy’s fault, you weren’t totally blameless either."

"Don’t I know it," he conceded, sadness coating his tongue.

"I may not know it all but I do know that she did-does-care for you. I’m really not sure where her head’s at," Dawn conceded. "I mean, the last few months have been pretty tough for her and though she doesn’t act like it at all, her eyes sometimes has that post-resurrection glaze to them. Now, whether that was due to her feelings for you that seemed to re-emerge or her nerves on being engaged is anyone’s guess."

"So what are you saying, Niblet?"

"What she’s saying," Willow interjected, "is that you need to stop worrying about what Buffy’s doing. You have to live for you." Spike motioned to speak but Willow held up her hand and he graciously closed his mouth.

"I know you’re trying, Spike. And it’s hella hard, believe me, I know. But you really have to get yourself focused on what you want to accomplish aside from Buffy." The red head gave him an encouraging smile in the rearview and Spike returned it before staring back out the window, watching the passing shadows of the night.

The remainder of the drive was taken in silence as all three occupants had their own personal demons to tame. Even after two years, Willow and Spike were at times haunted by the untouchable path and continuously had to learn to adjust to things that the other Scoobies could never comprehend. Though it was left unsaid, they both saw the other as a kindred spirit, responsible for unforgivable acts yet had been forgiven all the same. Still, they had not completely forgiven themselves and they knew that that final act would be the most difficult of all to achieve.

As for Dawn, the next several hours would change her life forever. At this time tomorrow, she would be a high school graduate, on her final stop before hitting the real world. And then, in less than thirty minutes, she would have one of the most important talks of her life with someone that had been her best friend, her only friend. Though it had felt like old times during the dinner, Dawn couldn’t help the resentment she still harbored towards Spike for leaving her two years ago. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand why he had to leave but that knowledge didn’t soothe the ache that was still present in her chest. Only time and acceptance could accomplish that.

She just hoped that she could accept him back into her heart like she had done in what seemed so long ago.

*&*

We talk to Willow for a few minutes before she pulls off. Looking at one another briefly, we trudge up the walkway and to the steps with Dawn taking the lead. My bloody heart is pounding almost as much as it had when Buffy showed up at my club. ‘Course, this particular confrontation I’m prepared for. Well, that may not be exactly the truth but who is ever prepared for the Wrath of Dawn?

The minute squeak of the door opening brings my attention back to the present and I enter the premises at Niblet’s behest. Not even bothering to take my jacket off, I head straight for the back porch, muttering something about getting air.

As I close the door behind me, I let out a breath I had no idea I was holding before taking a seat on the concrete steps. Staring up at the stars, I think about the times me and the slayer sat out on these very steps, sometimes talking, other times sitting in silence. Every time, though, it was something we both needed, that companionship between two warriors, once mortal enemies. Hell, who could understand us any better than the other? It’s the same soddin’ reason I thought we belonged together in other ways. Won’t even go into my right nice epiphany concerning me and Buffy ‘belonging together’. Still, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with her. Hell, if I have to spend the rest of my bleedin’ life bettering myself for her, then I will. I know that may not be quite on line with what Red told me but at the same time it won't just be for her I'm bettering myself for, now will it?

The squeak of the back door opening breaks me from my thoughts and I crane my neck to see Dawn, dressed in a simple t-shirt and shorts. Her hair is tied in a sloppy ponytail and all remnants of make-up have been obliterated. I realize that even without the fanciness of make-up and designer wear that this is both the same Dawn that I had left as well as an all-together different person.

"Beautiful night," she says and her eyes scour the night sky.

"It is," I agree and turn my gaze back to the clear night though my peripheral remains on her. It doesn’t take much to know that she's just as tense as I am. I risk a glance and see how her tension is a fluorescent glow and it burns me. I want nothing more than to erase it from her once and for all. What 'urts more than anything is the fact that I am the reason for her pain. Pathetic sod that I am, I still think a kind word and a pat on the back can make it better. S'not that easy, never will be, either.

I unbutton my shirt and thank the cool air that immediately scratches my chest with its invisible tendrils. Exhaling deeply, I close my eyes, committing to memory this tranquil feeling that bleeds into me just by havin' my girl here next to me. How many nights had I sat with Rachel after the bar closed, just talking? True, many of my words and emotions had been tangled up in the memories of my radiant slayer yet just as many broke from my lips about the powerful young woman that sits by me now. Often I'd go on and on about Dawn; how we broke into the Magic Box or she snuck to my crypt to 'ear stories 'bout my times in Europe. Sometimes, when I missed the 'Bit most, I'd tell Rachel how she kept me together during those hundred and forty-seven days…at times I missed 'er more than I missed Buffy. I guess it was because, with Dawn, I never 'ad to pretend, never 'ad to worry 'bout ridicule and disgusted looks. She accepted me like no one ever 'ad, save for my own Mum and Joyce. She trusted me like no one before and when I…I betrayed her trust. Still can't believe that she hasn’t…

"Why did you do it, Spike?"

Guess I thought too soon.

"Dawn," I turn to look at her and the tears running down her cheeks cuts off my air. It 'urts so much to see her like this, vulnerable and upset. 'Urts even more to know that I'm the cause of her pain.

"Why did you do it?" Her voice is shaky yet filled with conviction.

"Bit…" I reach for her but she jerks away.

"Don't call me…"

**

"…That," I whisper and Spike's hand freezes in midair. He turns away from me; I guess my anger did come across after all. It's weird, really. I want so bad to shout and scream but I'm pretty sure smacking him in the face the other day alleviated some of my aggression. But there's still that dying spark of hate I had developed against him two years ago not to mention the anger I still have about what he did to Buffy. I know she's forgiven him and, in a way, I have too. Still, I have to know.

"Are you going to answer my question?" The tremor is gone from my voice though my whole body is vibrating and I hug myself tightly. I belatedly notice that I'm crying but right now I'm more focused on Spike and what he has to say.

"Bit…Dawn," he wipes angrily at his eyes before facing me again. "I…I didn’t know…"

"What?" I demand, the anger resurfacing at the unspoken words I hear in my mind. "You didn’t know what you were doing? You were out of your mind?" I stand up, fists clenched at my sides and I stare into the blue oceans of Spike's eyes. I remember the crush I used to have on him--I used to dream of those eyes staring at me like they did Buffy. During that summer, it all changed. I still had a crush on him but it was different. I looked to those eyes for comfort and strength, strength I did not have. He always was there for me, his lips twisted in a sad smile. That remembered sadness is reflected in his face now, except that there is no smile, only a deep depression that I take notice of for the first time.

"Spike," I whisper as my angry core incinerates and all that’s left is a dull ache. I think maturity is kicking in and I sit back down, scooting a little closer to him. He doesn’t look at me, his eyes finding something fascinating about his shoes. I want to touch him, but decide against it, afraid that he’ll pull away like I did. I know I deserve it but I don’t think my heart could take it. Turning to stare into the emptiness of the back yard, I wait for him to speak.

"Dawn," he says after several thought-provoking minutes of silence, "before I say anything, I want you to know how sorry I am. For ‘urtin’ big sis, for leavin’ like I did. I know…I know it really ‘urt when you found out what I did. If I could take it back, even now, I’d give this bloody soul, my bloody existence for Buffy never to have to go through that.

"But I can’t. That’s the bloody wonderful thing about the past," he bolsters and tiny smile tickles my lips. For a moment, he sounds so much like the old Spike but his next words, or rather the emotion behind them weaves into my soul how much he has changed.

"No matter how ‘ard you try, the past is just that; the past." He sighs and I can almost feel the burden he carries on his shoulders. God, to have killed so many people and wake up one day and feel remorse about it, that’s bad enough. But to top that off with hurting the one person he loves more than anyone else, ever, is a bloody knife turned in an already wounded heart.

"Spike," I say and touch him for the first time since being out here. He tenses noticeably but doesn’t pull away and it encourages me to close the distance between us even more. My arm drapes across his shoulders and our legs are touching. I pat his knee with my left hand before trying to put on a genuine smile for him. I guess he feels it because he finally looks up and offers me one in return.

"The thing is," he continues, "is that I really don’t know why I did it. I can't say I was out o' my mind or anything like that. Yeah, I wanted her to love me, to make her see but why I did what I did? Honestly, Bit, I don’t think I'll ever really know. And that is why I can't ever forgive myself."

"But you know you won't do it again," I state and he nods bitterly.

"I know but it still doesn’t change what I did."

"And yet you still want to be with her," I point out. "That doesn’t make any sense."

"How do you mean?"

"The way you talk, it tells me that you don’t think you are worthy of her yet you still want to be with her. It seems if you wanted to torture yourself, you'd refuse to have anything to do with her. You sure as hell wouldn’t be making a play for her. Shit, if you wanted to punish yourself, you would have stayed in San Diego."

"Since when has anything I've done really made sense?" He jokes and we both chuckle at the same times. The thing is that he's right and…

***

…Dawn knows it. Bugger if I know what I'm thinking half the time. But what she doesn’t see is that being here, not being able to be with Buffy, is a greater punishment than never having seen her again. I know I told her that I still want her and I do but I know she won't pick me. No one ever has. And maybe, just maybe the pain I'll feel will be penance enough for the suffering I have caused in twelve decades.

We sit there in silence for quite sometime, taking comfort in each other's company, though I know we're silent because we don’t want to bring up the issue that…

"You left," Dawn says tonelessly and I grind my teeth together. This is exactly what I haven't been looking forward to.

"Dawn…" I start but she cuts me off again.

"You said you'd protect me till the end of the world. Isn't that what you told Buffy?" She turns to me and I expect to see anger but all that greets me is a limitless well of pain and fear and my insides churn at the knowledge that it's my fault that she feels like this.

I turn away from her, once again ashamed of my failure. Not only did I fail to protect her on the tower that night but I failed to protect her against the one person I never thought would hurt her. Me.

"For so long, I felt bad," she starts again, "about what hurt more. I felt guilty that, despite what you did to Buffy, I hated you more for leaving me. Actually, the first few months, I kept praying that you would come back. I was still mad at what you did but I wanted nothing more than for you to be here." Her voice is shaky as she speaks and I touch the hand that she still has on my knee for support and she inhales deeply before continuing.

"Every night I would look out the window, expecting you to be hanging under the tree. Or when Buffy did let me come and patrol, I would beg her to stop by your crypt. She did sometimes but more often than not, she wouldn’t. I think it was too painful for her still. After that first month, I started coming by after school, hoping against hope that you would be there. But you never were.

"And then," she squeezes my hand and I am made aware of the strength in this beautiful young woman, "one day I just, I just shut down. Tried to burn your coat before Buffy stopped me. I broke down that night and told her everything I felt about my life. That was the last time I cried."

"Until you saw me for the first time the other day," I choke out, the pain of her words clawing into my already damaged soul. I hang my head and stare at the concrete of the steps, vaguely aware of the drop of water that splashes between my legs. I see another one come and then another before Dawn gently lifts my chin up to face her. As much as I want to turn away, I know I owe her that much, to look her eye to eye.

"Spike, listen to me very carefully," I nod, acquiescing to the conviction of her voice. "I know what you're thinking; that seeing you hurt me and you're right, it did. But," she adds hurriedly before my increasing guilt drowns me, "it gave me back something I thought I lost."

"What…what do you mean?"

"After that night, with Buffy, after crying in her arms I was a totally different person. I didn’t open up to anyone, even Buffy and I kept everyone but her at arm's length. But now…"

"But now?" I ask, unable to keep the hope out of my voice.

"Now, after seeing you, after talking to you, a weight has been lifted from my heart. And it's something that wouldn’t have happened were it not for you."

"Dawn…"

" 'Bit," she smiles at me.

"What do you mean?"
"That's your name for me, right? Niblet. So, call me 'Bit."

I can't hold in my smile as it splits my face. "So you don’t think you're too old for me to call you that?" I needle her but instead of smiling, she turns serious. I fidget, hoping I didn’t say anything out of line but her words still my unsteady emotions.

"Spike, I love you so much. You're as much a part of me as Buffy is and I don’t want to ever lose that again. Promise me that you'll always be there?" Her eyes are brimming with tears and the sincerity of her words locks my response deep in my chest.

When I don’t respond right away, she clarifies. "I know you can't promise it realistically, but please, Spike, lie to me." The tears flow freely down her cheeks and I grab her up in my arms, wishing that I could protect her from everything that this world would throw at her. I know I can't do that and I won't tell her that I will. The only thing that I can tell her is…

"Dawn, baby, don’t worry. I may not always be there in arms' reach of you but I will always, always, be there when you need me. No matter where we are in the world, no matter what's going on, if you ever need me for anything, I will be there. That is what I promise. On my life."

"Thank you," she whispers and I nestle her deeper into my arms.

"Till the end of the world, luv," I murmur in her ear, "till the end of the world."

***

The two reconnected best friends sat on the porch in companionable silence for the better part of an hour after Spike made his promise. There was no need for words as they communicated on a much deeper level, with smiles and playful shoves.

"Well, 'Bit," Spike said, draping an arm lazily across Dawn's shoulder, " 's about time for you to get to bed considering the day that's ahead of you."

"Yeah," she replied absently, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger.

"Nervous?"

"Yeah, I mean no…well, yeah. This is like such a big step in my life. In less than three months I'm going to be in college, in LA no less." Her excitement died down immediately and Spike furrowed his eyebrows at the sudden change.

"What's wrong, Niblet?"

"It's…it's just that you've just come back and here I am leaving before we even have time to…" But Spike pressed his fingers to her lips before kissing her on the forehead.

"Listen here, Bit. There will be none of that rot, okay? You are going out to better yourself, to make big sis and the Scoobies, not to mention your Mum, proud. You're going to grow to do great things, like Buffy has done for herself--it's just not gonna be in good old SunnyHell." He ruffled her hair playfully before continuing. "Besides, it's only two hours away. We could come up there every weekend, well, that is if you aren't already busy with all your friends and those LA prats I'm going to pummel if they look at you wrong."

"Spike," Dawn whined, elbowing him in the ribs. "But you are right, I guess I'm making a big deal about it all."

"Summers genes through and through."

"What do you mean?"

"Eh, blowin' things out o' bloody proportion."

"You're insufferable," she stomped to her feet and plastered her hands to her hips. Spike stood as well before laughing heartily.

"Summers through and through, like I said. So, are you knackered enough to call it a night?"

"Yes, Mary Poppins," she joked before jumping out of the way of his swiping hand.

"Summers women," he muttered, following her into the house, "they'll be the death of me yet."

***

"Spike," Dawn whispered, knocking lightly on his door. "You decent?"

"Yeah, 'Bit," he said, "C'mon in." He hadn't been in bed more than five minutes and already, he was being interrupted. His annoyance fluttered away when he saw the concern in her face. "What is it?"

"It's Buffy. I went by her room and I thought I heard crying."

"Did you check to make sure?" he asked, getting out of bed, thankful that he had worn sweatpants.

"No, I…I thought it'd be best if I got you."

"Okay," he said and threw on a shirt, following her to Buffy's door. Pressing his ear to the door, Spike made out the telltale sound of quiet sobs. Without second thought, he opened the door quietly and grabbed Dawn's hand.

Once in the room, they saw Buffy, her face buried deep into the pillow, her back partially towards the door. Motioning Dawn to go to the other side, Spike sidled up behind Buffy, pressing himself close while Dawn did the same from the other side. A part of him knew he shouldn’t be doing this for various reasons but his overall concern for Buffy cancelled out those reasons.

"There now, luv," he whispered into Buffy's ear, "don’t cry. I'm here. Me and the Bit. We're here for you and we always will be, pet. Remember that," he murmured and kissed her hair. Spike felt Buffy's body relax and her sobs trickle off into nothingness. As one hand rested on Buffy's waist, the other cradled her head and he pulled her closer to him.

As exhaustion began overtaking him, Spike's last thoughts were of his two girls. They were his family and, without them, he would be lost. He had been without them in his life for two years and now that they were back in it, he couldn’t imagine having it any other way.

Part XVI

Dawn was the first to awaken. The warmth of the sun's rays at her back and its filtration throughout the room beckoned the Key from her peaceful slumber. Though she had shared the bed with two others, she had enjoyed a contented night of sleep. Being so close to the two people she loved most in the world had calmed the hidden insecurities that had plagued the eighteen-year-old since her parents had separated. It had been so long since she had felt this safe and Dawn smiled at the warm feeling within her.

Her smile grew as she watched her sister and best friend cuddled up together. Buffy was spooned up against Spike, whose chin rested just above the slayer’s head. His left arm was wrapped possessively around Buffy’s waist while his other arm was draped across the top of the bed. Dawn beamed even more when she saw that, sometime during the night, Buffy’s hands had covered Spike’s against her stomach. She marveled at the rightness of it all, how the two former mortal enemies created a world of their own, whether fighting or spooned together as they were now. The current scene gave Dawn no reason to doubt that the two were meant to be together.

Dawn sighed, disappointed that insecurities and stubbornness had been what had driven Buffy and Spike apart the first time. True, what Spike had done was inexcusable, but the more she thought about it the more she understood. The way Buffy had treated him was horrible yet he took it. In many ways, the demon inside of him was an animal and Buffy had taken for granted that that part of him would always obey, always accept what she said and did. But just like an animal who has been continually beaten and kicked, Buffy was given a painful reminder of just how much of a bite Spike still had.

Dawn winced at the unpleasant images her mind formulated about Buffy and Spike’s time together. Two people, full of so much love, abusing one another in the worst ways until there was scarcely anything left to salvage of either one. But they had recovered and now…well, Dawn didn’t know what would happen between them. As much as she still wanted to see them together, the ring on Buffy's finger…

Dawn bolted upright, shaking the bed. The other two occupants shrugged in their sleep and nestled even closer together but the brunette didn’t notice. What she did notice was that Buffy’s ring finger was quite bare. Dawn reached out a shaking hand if only to make sure she was seeing things correctly she and touched where the ring should have been. All that was there was the telltale indentation around Buffy’s finger that was only discernable at close range.

Forcing herself from her bewildered state, Dawn stared at her sleeping sister. It didn’t take long for her to realize why Buffy had been crying last night. Evidently she had broken off the engagement with Garrett, making her choice between him and Spike. It must have been so hard for Buffy to decide; knowing that she couldn’t get past hurting someone in the process. Dawn’s heart went out to both Buffy and Garrett; her sister because the choice made required courage like none other and Garrett because, other than Spike, Garrett was the coolest boyfriend Buffy ever had. She was going to miss him a lot but-but she couldn’t deny the exciting butterflies that roared through her stomach at the prospect of Spike and Buffy finally together. Just the thought of it reverted Dawn back to her fifteen-year-old self and it took a conscious effort for her not to squeal in delight.

It’s only a matter of time before they work things out and get together, she thought. And then they’ll get married and I’ll have lots of nieces and nephews to play with and spoil. They will be so beautiful, she thought excitedly about her future responsibilities as an aunt. Dawn studied the parents-to-be with a deft eye, examining what the best combination of features for her future nieces and nephews to inherit from their parents. Both Spike and Buffy had beautiful eyes while the former was the master of the cheekbones. Buffy had a natural golden tan to her skin as well as long and thick hair. Of course, it wasn’t actually blonde but that really didn’t matter now did it?

Dawn studied the shape and structure of Buffy and Spike’s faces from every conceivable angle when a red glint behind Spike’s shoulder caught her eye. There on the nightstand was the digital clock. One look at it and…

"Shit!" The sudden exclamation ripped the snuggling couple from sleep and they were instantly alert.

"Dawn, what’s going on?" Buffy asked, her eyes a combination of alarm and fatigue as her younger sister bolted out of the room.

"What the bleedin’ hell? Niblet!" Spike shouted and hopped off the bed, running out the door with Buffy not far behind. They made it to the door of her room before narrowly avoiding being bowled over by the speeding teen.

"Dawn," Buffy tried in vain to grab her sister to no avail as Dawn hustled to the bathroom. Evidently this crisis was too fast for her slayer reflexes to be of use.

"It’s 10:52!" Dawn screamed from behind the door.

"And?" The annoyed Brit growled. "Don’t think it’s standard procedure to go yellin’ all sorts o’ soddin obscenities to make that bloody well known."

"No," a clearly frustrated Dawn replied through the crack of the open door. The shower was running in the background and Dawn’s face was covered in facial soap. "But when 10:52 means that you are over an hour late to graduation rehearsal then it bloody well is reason to be yellin’ all those 'soddin’ obscenities' that, for the record, you taught me," she punctuated it by sticking a soapy finger at her grouchy best friend before shutting the door in his and Buffy’s faces.

The two former lovers stared at the door before turning towards one another, their eyes bulging. It wasn’t long before both were against the wall, weak in laughter.

"Well," Buffy said between chuckles, "I see why she loved hanging out with you."

"And why would that be, luv?" Spike asked as he wiped his teary eyes.

"Well, from what she said, you seemed to be the Zen Master of swearing."

"Was not. You’ve garnered that accusation from nothing but circumstantial evidence."

"So the word of my little sister can’t be trusted now, is that what you’re saying?" She cast a serious glance his way and Spike blanched, knowing he was in quite a predicament. But he was saved as Buffy lost her focus and fell to the floor in giggles.

"Oh my God," she roared, holding her stomach.

Spike furrowed his brows before he asked, "What?"

"You should have seen your face. Priceless."

"What do you think’s so bloody funny?"

Buffy spewed out some residual chuckles before getting to her feet. She again put the serious visage into place before grasping Spike by the shoulders.

"You’re right, it’s not funny. The former ‘Big Bad’ afraid of the slayer." She sighed dramatically. "What will everyone think? You’re image is completely tarnished." Dropping her hands from his shoulders, she gave him a once over, noting the sweats and T-shirt. "Of course, you obviously did that particular feat single handedly when you got dressed for bed."

Spike frowned but a delicious thought flashed into his mind and a wicked smirk slid into place. He saw the mirth leave Buffy’s eyes, replaced with something much darker and lustful. "Whassa matter, luv," he practically sung to her, "jealous that you didn’t get to dress me or disappointed that I’m wearing clothes?"

Buffy gulped at the innuendo, her body responding as Spike closed the short distance between them. Against her will, her eyes raked over his body, taking note at the slow bulge growing below his waist. She licked her lips before her gaze returned to his face.

Spike’s smirk broadened at Buffy’s perusal of his body and he wanted nothing more than to crush her to him and take her right against the wall. His eyes traveled the length of her pajama-clad figure, noticing her hardened nipples through her shirt. What started out as a tease had turned into something much more real and Spike ignored the chivalrous part of him that preached that Buffy was engaged. His primal instincts--those that remained and were eerily similar to the demon that had been cast out--flared to life and identified the woman in front of him as his and his alone.

Buffy shivered at the hunger written in Spike’s eyes. They had darkened with lust for her and Buffy wanted nothing more than to be swallowed whole by them, lost in a sea of passion, want and love. They also held a promise to love her without reserve and she was amazed that, even after all these years, his love for her had only gotten stronger.

She held her breath as he cupped her cheek before she automatically leaned forward. Spike did the same and their lips were only inches apart before a clang disrupted them.

"Buffy," Dawn pled, "what are you doing? You need to get dressed. I need you to take me to school."

"Wh-what about Kit or Janice? Can’t they get you?" The slayer stuttered, all too aware of Spike’s presence.

"Well, they could, if they were still at home," she driveled sarcastically. "But seeing as they are already there, it’s kinda hard to ask."

"Why didn’t they call?" Spike asked and was rewarded with a death glare.

"They would have but someone turned off the ringer in Buffy’s room. Gee, I wonder who that could have been, Spike." She spat out the last words before retreating to her room.

"What did I do?" He much too innocently. When she pushed him with her own steely look, he cracked.

"I just thought that you shouldn’t be disturbed is all." He moved to follow her into the room but was met by a closed door. Slightly hurt by this, Spike turned towards his temporary room until he heard the door open. He turned back to find Buffy staring out at him, smiling shyly.

"Sorry, but I gotta throw something on to take O' Miss Graduate to school. Get dressed because we need to be there by…"

"12:30," Dawn yelled as she ran down the steps, graduation attire in hand. "Buffy, hurry up! Please."

"She calls," Buffy said before closing the door again.

Spike stood there a moment before shaking his head and returning to his room to get ready. He wasn't sure but there was something different about Buffy, something looser? He didn’t know how to describe it and was not going to spend time analyzing it.

"For good or bad, it'll work out," he whispered to himself. And as he grabbed his shower bag, he prayed that it would be for the good.

*&*

It took me forty minutes to drop Dawn off and get back home. Before leaving, I kissed her goodbye and told her we’d be back soon. She told me that I’d better get Spike’s former undead ass in gear before glancing pointedly at my hand, firing out how we ‘so need to talk’. Being obtuse Buffy, it took me a moment before I realized what she was hinting at and by the time I mouthed a reply, she was darting to the congregation of students in the courtyard.

Pulling into Revello, my heart stammers in anticipation. I get out of the car and close it, jumping at the sound. My eyes move across the neighborhood, taking in people getting ready for their Sundays. Some are going to church, others coming from it. Then there are those that are using it as a day to relax with family. Family. It’s what everyone desires, what everyone needs. I’m no different. These last two years, with Dawn and the Scoobies, I thought my family was already solidified. Xander was the brother I never had and Willow was a second sister. Even Anya was-well, she wasn’t a sibling but more of a cousin that you never knew how to take. Giles had accepted the role of my surrogate father despite his misgivings of taking my biological father’s place. And then, with me being engaged to Garrett, well, I thought that everything else had been set in place.

It wasn’t until last night that I figured out how wrong I was.

"Spike?" I call when I walk through the door. I throw my purse on the couch before heading to the kitchen. I waste no time in pouring myself a nice, healthy glass of orange juice to still the butterfly show in my stomach. I don’t know what I’m nervous about-well, actually I do. After last night and then the heated bits of almost in the hall, well, I have plenty to be anxious about.

I’m halfway through the cup when the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs makes me turn towards the living room. A second later Spike comes into view and saunters towards me.

The breath hitches in my throat as I take in his taut form. Charcoal gray pants creased to perfection around his legs with tailored cuffs at the bottom that kiss the brilliant shine of his shoes. His shirt is the same color and the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing the silken skin of his forearms. His wrists are decorated nicely: one with a beautiful silver bracelet and the other with a matching watch. My eyes ride up to his chest where the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, leaving with a nice view of the valley that begins his sculpted chest not to mention a thin silver chain. His face is clean-shaven and his eyes glare at me with mirth and desire before I focus on his head. I barely acknowledge the black sunglasses resting on the top of his head; instead I am pleasantly surprised when checking out his tousled locks. His newly bleached blonde locks I might add.

I can think up a thousand-hell, a thousand thousand-words to describe the beauty in front of me. I open my mouth to say something, determined to be truthful.

"I better go get dressed," I babble. Coward.

"That you do," he agrees before he raises his arm to check the time. Even that slight gesture is enough to spin me into a tizzy.

"What? Huh?" I ask and curse my gracelessness.

"I agreed with you that you need to get a move on since you have about forty-five minutes before we have to push off."

"You-you're right," I stammer as I pass him, "gotta go get ready." I feel his eyes on me as I walk away and I can't stop the heat from coursing through my cheeks at his visual inspection. It's funny because, for some reason, it gives me confidence.

I stop and whirl on my heels before dissecting every inch of him with my flaming eyes. I bite my cheek when he visibly flinches at the scrutiny, running his fingers through his hair. I wait until he looks back at me and I leer at him with my most sexually suggestive grin before addressing him.

"You are so beautiful," I say, my voice thick with admiration and desire. His eyes bulge and I laugh before making my way upstairs.

As I skip through the halls, I can't help but feel proud of myself for saying what was on my mind. Not only are my steps lighter but my shoulders aren't slouching quite as much. I know there's a lot I have yet to tell him but I will. Soon. I always heard that honesty's the best policy and I think it's high time I follow that particular piece of advice.

*&*

"When is her bleedin name gonna be called?" Spike ranted from the seats. He sat next to Buffy and, by some magic of Satan, Xander. To Buffy’s left was Giles and to Xander’s right, Willow. They had talked amicably between one another before the ceremony started and all had been surprised at Xander’s less than hostile attitude towards the once more bleached blonde.

"Her ‘bleedin name’," Xander quipped, "as you so elegantly put it, will be called once they get to ‘S’. You see, Captain P., these things are done in alphabetical order and since we are now on…"

"Monica Richards," the principal called.

"R, you won’t have to wait much longer." The rest of the Scoobies snickered while Spike only growled muttering unintelligibly under his breath.

Not two minutes after Spike’s initial gripe, the name they had all been waiting for was called.

"Dawn Summers." The band of five all smiled proudly as the young woman walked to the stage to receive her diploma. Both Willow and Buffy snapped shot after shot of Dawn as she posed with Principal Wood before descending the stairs back to her seat.

No one spoke, all lost in their own thoughts. It wasn’t until Spike whispered "my Niblet" that the silence between them was broken. They all glanced at one another briefly, consciously ignoring the watery eyes of one another.

*&*

"Buffy!" Dawn yelled as the ceremonies commenced. She bolted towards her petite sister and threw her arms around her. Buffy squealed in surprise and delight as she and Dawn embraced. They remained that way for several minutes, tears in both of their eyes before they were enveloped in a powerful group hug that even Giles partook in.

Spike watched with both envy and pride at the scene before him. He was happy for these people before him, even Harris. How much had they been through these last eight years or so? How many people close to them had they buried? How much heartache had they endured to make it to this point? Too much, he knew. And for that they deserved happiness in their lives.

But as much as he wished them well, Spike couldn’t hide the sliver of resentment at the family before him. He had no illusions that they were more than just a gathering of friends and mentor. Willow, Giles and Xander were just as much a family in relation as Buffy and Dawn were. Blood may not bond them but their love and commitment to one another was what would always tie them together till they were nothing but dust and ash.

For a few short hours last night as he spooned against Buffy with Dawn on the other side of her, Spike had felt like he was a part of a family for the first time in over a hundred years. He paid no mind to the teasing voice in his head, the voice that whispered so cruelly that, no matter what he did it would never be enough. There weren’t enough trials in all of existence for him to pay penance enough to be included. He had caused these people so much grief, how could they possibly welcome him into their folds with open arms? No, they couldn’t and he was a fool to believe that it ever could be. He would always be an acquaintance, nothing more. Though he knew Dawn loved him like a brother and that Buffy cared for him (though that may have been through some misdirected feeling of guilt) he would never be part of the gang and that ate at him more than they would ever know.

"They deserve this, you know. The happiness," a familiar voice whispered in his ear. Spike turned to his right and stared into the face of a beautiful brunette. A face that, last time he had seen it, was filled with guilt of what she had done and grief for the still gaping wound that was sliced open on what should have been the most joyous day of her life.

"Anya," Spike breathed the name as if it was his salvation. Before he knew it, his arms were wrapped tightly around her slim waist and he sighed when she returned the sentiment. He inhaled her scent, a combination of jasmine and an otherworldliness he could not place. As his hands roamed the expanse of her lower back, he remembered, with guilt, the things they had done on the Magic Box table. Two broken hearts tragically brought together for a last embrace of solace. As he thought back on that night, he couldn’t help but wonder why this day, greeting her like this felt so familiar.

"As wonderful and safe as I feel in your arms," she said, "it would be so much better if I was able to breathe properly."

Spike relinquished his hold on her and smiled sheepishly at the grin that she flashed. She cocked her head to the side and her eyes roamed his body in curiosity before returning to his cerulean eyes.

"It looks good on you."

Spike furrowed his brows in confusion. "What looks good on me?"

"Humanity," she smiled.

"Huh. Guess the sun gave it away."

"That and the incessant chatter a few years ago in the demon community about a legendary warrior that fought for his soul for the love of his enemy," she recited matter-of-factly.

Spike’s eyes widened in shock. It was borne more of Anya’s source of information than her actual knowledge of his condition. His eyes narrowed minutely and he scrutinized every inch of her, looking beyond the fuchsia dress that accented her curves. He peered into what he had sensed before, when he had hugged her. That otherworldliness that he couldn’t place before was, in truth, quite similar to what he vaguely noticed about her that night two years ago in the Magic Box…

"You’re a vengeance demon again," he said in mild surprise.

"Yep," she smiled and showed him the pendant that hung around her neck. "For two years running now. I thought you would have picked that up during our brief yet wonderful time together."

Spike ducked his head in embarrassment. "Sorry, luv, but I was a bit too preoccupied with other things." Their eyes met again and they laughed, understanding passing between them. Anya was intimately aware of never being able to fit into the tight knit group that was the Scoobies. They would always lie on the outer fringes, invited in but never completely accepted. From the looks of her, Anya had recognized that and she seemed to be fine with it. Spike's admiration for her rose to even further heights at this knowledge.

"Anya," Xander called over. Both Anya and Spike turned towards the former Scoobie huddle to see the brunette striding towards them. He gave Spike a curt nod before giving Anya a tentative hug. Spike smiled at it, knowing from his conversation with Buffy that the formerly engaged couple were trying to rebuild the bridges of trust that were broken down their wedding day. Speaking of Buffy, Spike thought as he glanced towards her. For a brief second a hint of-something-clouded her hazel eyes before it was swallowed up by her brilliant smile. He shook his head, passing it off as a trick of the light.

"Hey Xander," Anya smiled into her former fiancé's cheek. She sighed inwardly at the feel of his strong arms around her, missing the security and comfort that accompanied it. So many times this past year, after they had become wary friends she had wanted nothing more than to jump into his arms and stay there only to remind herself of what happened the last time she did that.

"Watch it now, Miss," Xander quipped before he gingerly pulled away from Anya, his hand automatically going to his ribs.

Anya noticed it right away and furrowed her eyebrows in concern. "You’re hurt."

"Yeah," he said and cast a knowing glance towards Spike, a glance that Anya followed expertly. She growled in annoyance when she saw the slight discoloration at the bridge of the ex-vampire’s nose.

"Will you two ever grow up?" She growled and stomped away towards the rest of the group, leaving the two men staring at her wake.

"Well," Spike drawled as Anya greeted the others, "guess I finally got you to myself, whelp."

Xander chuckled before concern tore across his face. "I don’t know about you, but that didn’t come across as comforting as you would have wanted." Spike stared at him in horror before they both shared an uneasy chuckle.

*&*

"It’s wonderful to see you again, Anyanka," Giles smiled as he hugged the vengeance demon.

"You too, Rupert." After the nearly avoided apocalypse and Anya taking care of him when he was close to dying, Giles had developed quite an affection for the once blonde. Unknown to the Scoobies, she had been the one to take care of him when the others were off to work or school, teleporting in and out of his rented flat, until he was well enough to travel back to England. Though they both had developed a crush on the other during that time, nothing passed between them except for a few stolen kisses every now and then. Well, except for that one time when she came to visit him in England…

"Sorry that I missed the dinner, Dawn," Anya apologized to the graduate before dragging Dawn into a warm hug."

"It’s okay, Anya. I know you were busy."

"As a matter of fact I was. There was this guy in Modesto that was an abusive prat to his girlfriend. Well, when I talked to her she wished that he had to crawl in the ground like the slimy worm that he was…"

"Anya," Buffy interrupted, shaking her head, "as much as we would like to hear about your latest project, it would be quite helpful if you ixed-ne the engeance-ve talk for the time being." The slayer gave a pointed glance to the graduates closest to them.

"Oh," the brunette exclaimed before lowering her voice and saying to Dawn, "We’ll talk later."

"Um, sure," the girl replied.

"But for now," Anya pleasantly announced before she dug into her purse, "I’d like to present to the graduate with her gift. It's traditional to give a graduating member of school a gift. Of course, I never got one when I graduated."

Dawn smiled gratefully when Anya handed her the elongated jewelry case. She opened it excitedly and gasped at the necklace before her.

"Is…is that?" Giles stammered before removing his glasses for a closer inspection.

"The Crystal of Sh'rad," Willow whispered. "But Giles, I thought you said that was a myth."

"What's a Crystal of charades?" Buffy asked.

"Sh'rad," Anya corrected.

"Okay. What is it?"

"The Crystal of Sh'rad is a talisman of sorts."

"It's a protection talisman created in Ancient Egypt by a secret sect of Egyptian mages," Willow added for Giles.

"So what does it do?" Dawn asked, her eyes roaming over the elegant gold carvings that encircled the crystal.

"It works as a radar of sorts. The wearer will be alerted to any supernatural presence that intends injury upon--well, in this case, her--in the immediate vicinity. It can also be described as--a, a sort of…"

"Universal phone card," Anya quipped. On Buffy and Dawn's looks, she explained. "With it, Dawn will always be able to locate and 'talk' to those that she binds to the Crystal."

"Binds?" Dawn asks.

"Yes. You do the ritual thing with anyone you want to be able to contact in a circle. Once done, no matter where you are in the world, you will be able to locate them and they will be able to feel if you're all right if need be."

Dawn looked to Anya and then back to Buffy before they both stare back at the Crystal before whispering simultaneously, "Wow."

*&*

Spike motioned to walk towards the others a minute after Anya left. He was desperate to leave behind the uncomfortable silence he and the whelp were sharing. Not one step into his retreat, a warm hand touched his shoulder.

"Spike," Xander ventured. The former vampire turned towards Xander, unable to hide the confusion from crossing his face. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not, but he thought there had been a hint of sincerity in the whelp's voice…

"What's up, Harris?" He tried to throw on his patented sarcastic veneer but knew it wasn't up to par.

"About the other day," he started and ducked his head before sliding his hands into his pockets.

"No worries, mate. I said some things, you said some things. You know what they say--"

"Boys will be boys," the brunette finished. He chuckled dryly. "Well, yeah. You're right about that." He stopped to think before he continued. "You know, to be honest, it's about things that happened way before the other day."

Spike crossed his arms over his chest, uncertain as to where Xander was heading but kept silent.

"I've never liked you. In fact, I hated you. Hell, what with the trying to kill us all countless times, I think I had a pretty good reason to." He looked up at Spike who only nodded. Xander took a deep breath, mustering all of his strength courage to get this out.

"Look, I know we've had our differences and I mean before you started helping us. Fact of the matter was that, I don’t know, I guess I was jealous."

"Jealous?" Spike couldn’t hide his surprise.

"Yeah. When you started helping us, even if it was for money, when Buffy or Giles needed backup, you were the first name that came up. Couple the fact that they relied on you more than me and you being a vampire, well, doesn’t bode too well for too many episodes of male bonding.

"But, when all the Glory stuff came to a head, I guess I saw something different about you. Actually, I saw it from the beginning, I think but I wouldn’t let myself admit it. I just have this thing with demons, you know. Makes things easier." Xander examined the grass underfoot and kicked it with the toe of his shoe.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is--sorry." The last word was muttered and Spike strained to hear it.

"Did you just say…?" he trailed off, waiting for the brunette to continue.

"Yes I did. I said I'm sorry about the way I treated you back then. Even if I didn’t trust you, you still earned our--my respect. I was the only one of the group that didn’t see any of your redeeming qualities."

"Like my charm and good looks?" Spike said and arched his scarred brow.

"You wish, Dead Boy, er, Ex-Dead Boy." Xander flashed a shy grin before running a hand through his hair. He sobered immediately and held out his hand.

"Look, Spike," Xander said despite the wavering in his gut, "you and me both know that we'll never be best buddies but we can respect one another. And while that may be hard," he sighed deeply, "I'm willing to try."

Spike was thunderstruck by Xander's apology and he eyed the outstretched hand in bewilderment. He had only remembered a handful of times that he and the whelp had been on amiable terms. The two that came to mind the most was when he had seen a distraught Xander at the bar, torn between his girlfriend and best friend. They had chatted over a game of pool with Spike lending an ear. He had given his advice, sans hostility. The other time had been during the run from Glory. Throughout most of that trip, they had been comrades in arms. But that hadn't lasted. Although they worked together during that horrible summer, when Buffy returned, everything had returned to normal. And it all came to a head after his tryst with Anya. Though he would never tell, the disgust Xander had looked at Anya with when he found out she and Spike had slept together had hurt Spike more than he let on. It only confirmed that he was nothing but a thing to them.

Shaking himself from the pangs of the past, Spike took Xander's proffered hand and smiled. "Me too, whelp," he said sincerely. "Me too."

*&*

After a half-hour of mingling, the Scoobies decided to call it a day and retreated to the confines of the slayer's home. There they chatted amiably for several hours before they finally started to disperse. Xander and Giles were the first to leave, with the latter promising to stop by the next day. Afterwards, Willow bid her adieu, smiling shyly about meeting a girl named Kennedy for an evening coffee. Anya stuck around to tell Buffy, Dawn and Spike a little more about the Crystal and the ritual Dawn needed to use to connect herself with the others and the vengeance demon ensured the slayer that there was nothing dangerous about it at all. Before leaving she promised that she Giles and Willow would go over the particulars later in the week.

"So, Bit," Spike said as the three of them sat in the living room flipping through the channels, "you're a graduate now. How does it feel?"

"Hey," Buffy answered and shoved him playfully; "I'm the sister, I'm supposed to ask that." She pouted but scowled when a flicker of hurt crossed the blonde's features.

"Sorry, luv," he muttered, "don’t wanna be oversteppin’ me bounds." Dawn also noted the change and decided that it was time for her to make a change of scenery.

She stood up and yawned dramatically. "Well, I think I’ll call it a night."

"But it’s not even ten," Buffy complained, not wanting to be alone with Spike just yet.

"Well, you know what they say," Dawn smiled a bit too brightly before kissing both Spike and Buffy on the cheek. "Early to bed and all."

"But…" The phone rang causing Buffy to jump.

"I’ll get it!" Dawn bolted through the house.

"Well," Spike drawled and firmly planted his false bravado in place. "That was quite the interestin’ scene."

"Yeah," Buffy muttered. "She was awful quick to go to bed tonight. And to think, I used to have to twist her arm to get upstairs."

"Oh how times change," Spike sung overdramatically and was promptly slapped on the thigh. "Oy! What was that for, Slayer?"

"For…for being you," she huffed and crossed her arms. Spike tried to plaster a look of hurt on his face but couldn’t when he saw Buffy’s face.

"What?" Buffy demanded when she saw his overbearingly bright grin.

"Nuthin’. S’just that you look so cute when you pout."

"Gee, thanks."

"No worries, pet," he said, ignoring her obvious sarcasm.

They sat there in silence, stealing glances at one another, both not really wanting to be the first to ask about the night before. They both looked up when Dawn slipped back in, her eyes awash with sympathy.

"That was Garrett," she said softly, "he apologized for not making it to my graduation but he’s going to take me out tomorrow to make it up to me."

"Oh," was Buffy’s only response before she focused intently on an invisible spot on her dress.

"Yeah, well, I’m heading to bed. Night all," Dawn called over her shoulder before disappearing upstairs.

Buffy’s mind was a whirl of emotions and she didn’t know how to even begin to control them. The only things that broke through the fears and uncertainty were Spike’s face after she told him it was over two years ago and Garrett’s after she had given him back the ring. Though she had given the latter a hope of sorts, nothing could wash away the raw pain in two sets of eyes--one cerulean blues, the other shadowed gray--which she had caused. That's all I ever do. Cause those I love pain, she thought bitterly before a warm hand cupped the side of her face.

Spike had whispered Buffy’s name several times to no avail. He had wanted nothing more than to touch and hold her but had quashed the urge in favor of waiting for her to make the first move. That was the plan until he saw those luminescent green eyes of her pool with tears before they escaped from their prison, dashing for freedom down her soft cheeks. He was by her side in an instant, kneeling before her as if he wanted to place his ring on her finger. He briefly saw the irony of his position but slammed the door shut on all emotions that didn’t have to do with Buffy’s current condition.

Buffy stared into Spike’s eyes for several minutes, unsure of what to do. She wanted to talk to him, needed to talk to him. There was so much she had buried that she wanted to say, so much that even the new Buffy had a hard time coming to terms with. She opened her mouth to speak only to have a harsh croak echo from her lips. His eyes furrowed in concern and that one gesture caused her to lose control on her unraveling emotions.

The force of Buffy crashing into him sent Spike off-balance and he fell back into the table, the impact pushing it across the floor. He winced at the edge hitting him in the center of the back but the slight discomfort was forgotten as he held his slayer in his arms.

Tears poured down Buffy’s cheeks though there were no heartfelt sobs though if there were, the petite woman would never have known. Her mind was too busy focusing on the comforting feel of this man in her arms. Every so often her mind retreated to the night before and what she had told Garrett, promised him, but she was more concerned with the now and Spike. She worried that Spike had assumed that she had called everything off with Garrett, deciding to be with him at last. And while she had broken the engagement, the other part wasn’t quite true. She could tell by the way he whispered to her, stroking her hair, that Spike’s hopes had crashed through the fluctuating ceiling he always had with her. His greatest dream was almost in his grasp and he couldn’t help but get high at the prospects of it coming to fruition. Hell, who wouldn’t? That’s why it was so hard for her to stop crying. Because, after all was said and done, she would hurt him all over again but she had no choice.

She cried harder when Spike murmured words of love in her hair. God, it was hard enough to come to a decision in the first place. It was going to be next to impossible for her to tell Spike that she wasn’t going to run into his arms and pledge her undying love to him.

The only thing harder for her would be Spike hating her for it once she finally came clean.

And there was no doubt in her mind that he would do just that.

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