Chapter 13 - We Band Of Buggered

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Xander walked back into Angel’s living room. “Howdy, boys and girls. Time for all good slayers and vampires to remember they have company,” he said, cheerily.

“Giles said to give you his regards, and that he’d be in touch. I’m thinking you made him uncomfortable with all the smoochies, and he feared that groininess was on the horizon.” Xander chuckled. “He did have a good suggestion, Buff. Said it might just be a good idea to call your sis, and let her know about Mr. Not-so-dusty before she finds out from Andrew. If she hasn’t already. Can you imagine a pissed off Dawnie showing up at Wolfram & Hart, all Rogue-like?”

Buffy disengaged herself from Spike’s embrace, cheeks flaring pink. “Oh, my god! I can’t believe I forgot all about Dawnie. She’s gonna pitch a fit that I didn’t call her with the Spike news.”

“Well pet, you were kind of distracted by my lovely self. She’ll just have to forgive you. Just hoping the Bit and I can get past…” Spike’s eyes lowered and his voice shaded into sadness, as he remembered the total destruction of their relationship by his own actions towards her sister.

Gently stroking the unhappy vampire’s cheek, Buffy murmured, “You don’t know how it was, Spike. Really. After the Hellmouth collapsed, and everyone had time to settle in and realize just how much they’d lost, Dawnie broke down. I mean, everything she ever knew was gone – her home, her friends, her stuff… even Mom’s grave.

“She cried for it all, but who she mourned most was you. Her best friend, her confidante, her hideaway from the evil big sister. She couldn’t get over the way things ended. Dawnie had been so angry because of the way she found out about… well, you know. And she told me she had threatened to set you on fire. She forgave you, Spike. You have to believe that. She just never got to tell you that, and it broke her heart.”

“Uh, guys?” said Xander, sheepishly. “Really, really sorry for my part in the hostilities. I should have just kept my mouth shut and let Buffy deal with it. I’m all 20/20 with the hindsight now, and I can’t change how bitter and angry I was then. I meant to hurt everyone as badly as I was hurting.” He sighed, “I hope it’s all in the past now, and we can all move on.”

“Mate, can’t say as how I was happy ‘bout you sticking your nose where it didn’t belong, but it’s over and done. Can’t change things either, and you know how much I’d take that whole business back if I could.” Spike felt Buffy’s hand squeeze his gently, and turned to the woman in his lap “Luv, I think it’s time we made that call.”

Buffy pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket, and punched in the numbers to reach her sister. “Hey, Dawnie! How’re you doing?” Hearing nothing but unintelligible mumblings, she tried again. “C’mon, Daaaaawn. I’ve got something important to tell you.”

“Gods, Buffy. Do you have any idea what time it is here?” whined Dawn. “You never take that into consideration when you travel.”

“Huh, it’s only 6:30 here, which means – ooops, 3:30 in the morning by you. Sorry sis, but I’ve got some really good news for you. Someone who needs to talk with you.”

“There is nobody I want to hear from at this hour of the morning,” Dawn mumbled. “But since I’m already up, who needs to talk to me so badly that time isn’t an issue?”

Taking the phone from the Slayer’s hand, the nervous vampire said, “’Allo, Bit. Got a mo’ for an old mate?”

Xander and Buffy shared a sympathetic look as they heard a wild scream pierce through the phone. Spike tore the receiver from his ear and winced in pain.

“Bloody hell, Niblet, you’re worse than that chip. I’ve got blood drippin’ from my ear thanks to that screech.”

“Oh my god, Spike. Is that really you? I mean, it sounds like you, but you’re dead - I mean, you always were dead, but then you were really gone. Like in particles. Poof!”

“Oi, snack size. M’not a poof. You must’ve Angel on the brain.” Spike pretended to complain, so relieved to hear the hope in his Bit’s voice that he was back amongst the unliving. “And yes, I did ‘poof’ in the Hellmouth, but that’s a story for another time. Just wanted you to hear it from us, first. Rather surprised the pup didn’t spill his guts by now.”

“Pup? Oooh oooh, you mean Andrew, right?” Dawn hesitated before she asked, “How long has he known, Spike? Is that why Buffy tore outta here with no note, no nothing? Giles was mumbling something about demons, and crazy slayers and all sorts of other things I’m sure he didn’t want my poor, innocent ears to hear, and.. I guess I’m all babbly right now and I’m sorry, but…”

“Dawn… pigeon, take a breath,” laughed Spike. “I’m sure you have loads of questions, and m’sure big sis and I will tell the tale, just not now. Don’t rightly know where we’ll be, so wait until we call you back with some definite plans, all right?”

“I’m soo sorry, Spike. I just need you to know that things’ll be okay between us. I mean, I want to hear your side about everything and I know there are things we both need to talk about – but I love you, and I need you to know that,” she cried. “I’m just happy I have the chance to let you know that, and I can’t wait to see you again.”

Letting out a breath he felt he’d been holding since Sunnydale, the vampire murmured, “Soon, pet. I promise. We’ll work it all out, and make with the personals. Miss you, too.”

Spike gently hung up the phone, and looked up at the teary faces of both Buffy and Xander, as tears fell softly from his own eyes.

"Hey Spike." said the brunet. "You asked me before why I did a what was it - a '180' on my feelings towards you, right? Well, you see how good you feel puttin' the mend on things with Dawn? That's what I was aiming for. Needed to fix things with most everyone, you included, in order to fix myself."

With a delicate sniffle, Buffy walked over to the teary-eyed blond and wrapped her arms around his waist. “So, glad that’s out of the way, Spike,” she said, looking up to catch his still teary gaze. “Dawn’s happy and you feel better about where you stand with her. Andrew gave us a break for once and kept himself muzzled.”

“Yeah, luv. S’truly a load off my mind. Pint-size and I have a lot of talkin’ to do. Just glad to know she’s open to it, and happy for it to happen.”

“She’s not so pint-sized anymore, Spike. She’s more, well, quart-y. I swear if she grows any more, she’s gonna hit the ceiling.” Laughing warmly, Buffy turned to her old friend and asked, “So, Xan… what’s next on your agenda? Gonna stick around for a while, or are you headed back to do the searchy thing again for more slayers?”

“Don’t really know what I’m doing, Buffster. Yesterday, I’d have told you different. I was sure that as soon as Sela was transferred to Giles’ protection, I’d have hot footed it back to Africa. Too many people here to deal with, and the noise and hustle – not for me so much.

“Never expected you to be here and even if I knew, we haven’t been hang buds for a long time. As for Spike? Hells, he wasn’t even on my list of possibilities. No offense, Fangboy, but you were dead-er than usual,” he said.

Spike just nodded, merriment evident in his eyes,

Xander continued. “Anyway, today I’ve got a whole different vibe going on. Pretty much due to you, Spike. This whole resurrection deal is getting rather commonplace, and I think I’d like to see the results through this time. Anybody willing to put me up for a couple of nights? I figure we can see what’s the what and talk about the what’s next.”

“I’m sure Peaches’ll be thrilled to put you up, mate. Bein’ as you two get along so well,” the vampire snickered. “No worries there, or you could stay with Rupes, unless he’s leavin’ tonight?” he inquired. “I’d invite you to stay at my basement for a change, but s’only one bed, and me and Buffy...”

Hand in the air as if to stop the words from coming out, Xander said, “Enough, Spike. Please, no visuals. Whatever you and Buffy end up doing, I don’t need the blueprints. Thanks for the offer, anyway.

“I’ll tell you what. Let me call Giles to make the arrangements, then we can all go out to dinner. Or pick up take out. Either way, my treat.”

“Sounds great, Xan,” said the petite blonde. “Let’s pick up some Chinese and head over to Spike’s. More cozy that way, and we don’t have to worry about people overhearing anything demony.”

All in agreement, the trio left Wolfram and Hart behind.

Chapter 14 - And The World Tilts

In shock, Dawn lets the receiver drop from numb fingers. Silent tears flow from eyes that stare sightlessly unaware as her legs give way and she crumples to the floor. Her shoulders shake from the force of the violent sobs she can no longer contain.

She’s alone in the room she uses when she’s doing research for the new Council. It’s Spartan in appearance, containing a bed, a dresser, mirror, night stand and lamp and a bookcase; nothing that marks it as hers. Well, except for a few pictures. One of Buffy and one of the three Summers women, a copy made from a photo Giles had kept in his home in Bath. From before. Before everything went to hell.

Before the Hellmouth closed and Spike died.

Except - it’s all changed now. In just one moment – one phone call – Dawn’s world has shifted. She isn’t really shocked by Spike’s return. After all, Buffy had died and come back. True, her sister had been miserable about it; she’d been pulled out of heaven and all, but she’d adjusted. Eventually.

It’s just that with Spike – well, there are just so many things to think about, now. After what happened between him and Buffy – the whole rape/not rape issue that Xander had made sure to tell her under the very worst of circumstances – she’d been so livid. So unwilling to even hear what he had to say when he reappeared in her life. Really, she’d thought there were no excuses, so she refused to listen.

Oh, and there were his insanity issues and the First, the Turok-han, his kidnapping by the Bringers and his rescue, at Buffy’s insistence. Dawn puts her head in her hands, as if to try and stop her brain from exploding with all the events that marked the last few weeks of Sunnydale. Open the memory closet, and it all comes pouring out – unstoppable.

All those Potentials crammed into their little house on Revello Drive. Spike shoved into the basement, usually manacled to the wall, Xander and Willow and Anya and Andrew; it had been like a freaking zoo! Giles’ return, Principal Woods’ involvement, and Faith, who had tried to kill Buffy several times. One house, very divisible.

She sighs as she remembers that the only time she spent in Spike’s company, was the de-triggering attempt with the Prokaryote stone. Got her head almost caved in for her troubles when the agitated vampire sent his cot flying in her direction. An accident, yeah, but she never sought him out to talk; to try and clear the air between them.

And who could forget the lovely collaboration by Murder, Inc.? Principal Wood, son of Nikki Wood, the Slayer Spike had killed in New York – so he had personal issues. Giles thinking the vampire couldn’t be trusted not to murder them all in their beds for more reasons than the trigger and newly de-chipped state. Gods, Buffy had been infuriated when she found out about it.

Dawn gets up from the floor and throws herself on her bed. One good stretch to unkink her long legs from the time spent sprawled on the floor. She tries to fall asleep, but the thoughts keep coming – one after the other.

She remembers the newly found closeness between her sister and the vampire and their estrangement from everybody else. It was always like that, as if Spike and everyone else repelled each other like magnetic poles. This time, everyone could see it. The potentials were divided between thinking it was awesome or freakish, Giles and the principal were just disgusted by it all, and Andrew? Heh, in Andrew’s eyes, Spike could do no wrong.

On that last day, in the high school – everybody’s nerves had been on edge. Dawn remembers the last time she’d seen Spike. He had been wearing that god-awful amulet from Angel and gone with Buffy and the potentials to the seal in the basement. She hadn’t been able to even wish him luck. Wouldn’t even say it to her own sister; she’d been too afraid. Final words and all.

In the end, she’d been silent. Too silent. The words stuck in her throat when Buffy told them all of Spike’s final death. How he’d insisted she leave and save herself and make sure the rest of them were safe before he’d dusted. How he’d saved the world. That left Dawn with no way to tell him she still cared, no way to even try to make things right with him.

She notices the tears have started again. Remembers the hopeful, loving glances when he thought she wasn’t looking. One good stare made him turn his head in shame. Wishes things had been different.

Dawn sits up abruptly, realizing that she has that chance after all. The phone call. She’d spoken to Buffy, who was with Spike. They were together. He was back, he missed her, he loved her and wanted to see her.

She wipes her eyes, draws a deep breath and forms a plan. She’ll clear it with either Giles or Andrew, and catch the first flight out to Los Angeles. No, wait… Spike asked her to wait for another phone call, until they had a place for her. Which meant she was still wanted, and she could live with that.

Dawn smiles. Soon she’ll have her little family back again.

Chapter 15 – What Life Through Yonder Window Breaks

They stopped for Chinese take-out at The Golden Buddha, and placed their dinner order: spicy Kung Pao chicken for Spike, chicken and broccoli for Buffy, and chicken chow mein for Xander. Side dishes, too – an assortment of comfort yummies: fried wonton, spareribs, roast pork fried rice, eggrolls and the ubiquitous fortune cookies. Enough food to gorge an army with, or at least three people talking about their future plans.

The walk back to Spike’s apartment was made in companionable silence. She smiled to herself, at what a picture they must have made. Arm-in-arm-in-arm, Buffy in the middle. Two men and a Slayer. For a moment, she felt like a protected little girl, linking arms with the man she loved on one side, and her oldest male friend on the other. It had been a long time since she’d felt so cared for.

Unlike previous times in her life, she didn’t equate the sense of security and protection as personal weakness. These two men weren’t telling her that she needed looking after, that she was weak and incapable. They were adding their strength and love to hers, lifting her up beyond her own sense of self. It was a good, solid feeling; one she hoped wouldn’t be soon lost.

She almost gave in to the desire to skip down the block.

Once inside the apartment, Spike bypassed the tiny kitchen, opening all the food containers at the livingroom table. Buffy brought out paper plates and cups and Xander pushed the table away from the couch so that the three could sit down comfortably on the floor.

They prattled on as they ate – basic small talk about travel and Slayers at large. The vampire regaled everyone with what he’s called “Hair Gel Tales from the Evil Empire,” Buffy told them all about Dawn’s thriving in Rome, and her growing competency with ancient human and demon languages.

Finally, Xander broke the peaceful reverie with a loud, soul-satisfying belch. “Ooops, sorry folks. Think I’ve just reached my food limit. Which is of the good, seeing that there’s no more food to be had.” Rolling his shoulders to loosen an odd kink or two from sitting on the ground, he said: “I’ve got a few things I’d like to talk about with both of you.

“Buff, you asked me if I had plans to go back to Africa. I could do that – I was going to, as soon as Sela was with Giles, like I said before. I couldn’t think of a single reason to stay here one moment longer than necessary. I sure hadn’t planned on spending time with you, even once I’d heard you were here.”

With a sad smile, she said, “I understand, Xander. We’d stopped reaching out to one another. I mean, we all left for different continents, for crying out loud. It was just too easy to let everyone and everything else go.”

“Yeah, but this is old territory between us. The new and improved info is what’s important. When Spike popped up behind you – well, you saw my reaction.”

Spike snickered. “Yeah, git – tried to change my sexual preference in one easy lesson.”

“Ha ha, Fangboy, very funny, but you’re not gonna make me stray from my path here. What I wanted to say was that for the first time since Anya died, and probably a while before that… I felt a connection to someone else. I wanted to talk to you, Spike – to find out what happened to you. It mattered to me.

“And as for you, Buff – you practically glowed walking out of that elevator. You looked so much like the girl I fell head over heels for outside of Sunnydale High.”

“I remember Willow telling me something about you and a skateboard, and a handrail,” the blonde giggled. “Guess I really did knock you off your feet.”

“You were a knockout, in that most literal of senses, and it’s taken almost eight years to see you that carefree again. I think it’s worthwhile sticking around to enjoy your company, if you and Spike don’t mind.”

“Told you before mate, not a problem for Buffy’n me. S’just you need a place to stay. In a pinch, you can kip here for a night, but we’d be like three peas in a very tight pod.”

“Es no problemo – the Xan-man can always find a place to stay. And did I just revert to high school geek boy talk? I am so ashamed I hang my head,” he groaned.

Pushing away the remnants of her dinner, Buffy scooted over to her favorite vampire, who lifted the petite blonde and settled her into his lap. Leaning back against his chest, she sighed, wistfully.

“You know, it’s been only a few days since the world has changed for us all, and I’ve been too caught up in just being happy to give any thought to what comes next.” Chewing lightly on her bottom lip, she continued. “I left my sister and my whole existence in Rome dangling when I flew here. I mean, it wasn’t a difficult decision to make,” she said, softly stroking Spike’s cheek. “I had to see for myself that he’d come back.”

As if seeking to reaffirm his presence, Buffy burrowed her face into the crook of the vampire’s neck and hugged him until he practically creaked.

“Bloody hell, pet,” he winced. “M’not goin’ anywhere soon. Have some mercy on the ribs.”

“What’s the matter, baby? Can’t you take a little lovin’?”

“From you, Slayer? Any time,” he said, pressing little butterfly kisses up and down the smooth column of her exposed neck.

Clearing his throat, Xander  said, “Do I have to get out the fire hose, people? You’re raising the ambient temperature in this room by leaps and bounds, and I’m not the one who needs to worry about combusting here.

“Now that I have your attention, I’ve got a couple of ideas I’d like to explore with you both. Seems to me that before your smoochfest a moment ago, Buffy was heading in my direction, in that ‘where do we go from here’ way. Without all the singing and dancing, of course.

“Looks like none of us have any real direction right now, other than a desire to do the right thing. Guess that’ll be our reason d’etre until we die… and don’t come back. None of us trust Wolfram & Hart and nobody’s comfortable with the idea of working side by side with Angel and his crew. But we do trust each other.

“We’ve also worked with each other for years, so there’s a sense of what works and what doesn’t, and nobody has anything left to prove. I think we have the makings of a business venture at hand, and I’d like to know what you guys think before I continue to speak until I run out of words.”

Looking at Spike for confirmation before she replied, Buffy cracked her knuckles. “Xan, I’m willing to see what you have in mind, and Spike is willing, too. The sooner he disassociates himself from Angel, the better it’ll be for all of us. I’d love for us to be able to stand on our own.

“When Angel moved to LA, he had a good idea… to help the helpless on a person by person basis. Cordy helped him form his efforts into a viable business. I’m not thrilled with the pay for savingness of it all, but I think it’s an idea that can work. Keep it small, keep it trustworthy.”

“It’s a niche that needs to be filled,” Spike agreed, “’cause ever since Captain Forehead went corporate, the little folk lost their easy access to help.”

“Terrific!” the brunet exclaimed. “Even got a name picked out for the agency. How does Phoenix Investigations sound to you?”

“Why would you call it…” the Slayer trailed off, somewhat confused.

“Oh pet, it’s absolutely poetic. Good on you, Xander. Both of us having risen like the phoenix from death, and me, literally from ashes.”

Looking at Xander with a new sense of appreciation, Spike cocked his head. “Actually works for us all, Slayer. This isn’t the same whelp we knew in Sunnyhell. S’like the African sun burnt away the child and left a new man.”

Buffy’s hazel eyes sparkled with excitement as she rose from the blond vampire’s comfy lap and walked over to the table. Picking up a fortune cookies, she handed it to her friend. “I think we have the bare bones of something worthwhile here. Why don’t we cap off the night with the reading of the fortune cookie – and you can do the honors.”

Cracking open the cookie and reading the paper fortune to himself, Xander smiled broadly and handed it to the vampire.

After staring at the little slip of paper for a moment, Spike read it aloud. “Your future lies entwined with your most trusted companions.”

Maybe, just maybe, they were off to an auspicious beginning.

Epilogue – Happy Holidays

Eventually, they found the perfect place for Phoenix Investigations. A storefront location, several apartments on the second floor, with a large basement – just a stone’s throw away from Angel’s old Hyperion Hotel.

The new Council paid them salaries. Retroactively paid salaries in the case of their senior Slayer and Field Operative. Between Buffy and Xander they’d managed to pool their resources to cover the down-payment, but that didn’t leave much for renovations, advertising and monthly mortgage payments.

As for the renovations… so much work needed to be done to turn the basement into a combination apartment/training space. It was a seriously daunting task they’d all set for themselves.

Spike did his best to add to the coffers but hustling pool wasn’t going to make the difference between getting a business up and running, and losing the building. Sometimes he regretted not being able to resort to his old methods of acquiring what was needed.

The prospect of applying for a small business loan had Buffy shaking in her boots. She remembered her one and only experience dealing with the world of banking and finance and the total monster killing disaster it had turned into. If she remembered correctly, only those with money could borrow money, and there was no way in hell she was going to deal with that kind of rejection again.

Everyone agreed that asking Angel for a handout was so not the way to go. Nobody wanted to be beholden to Wolfram & Hart. And Spike was sure that any request for help on the part of an enterprise he was part of would be rejected out of hand.

Their salvation came unexpectedly during another dinner from the Golden Buddha. Sitting on the floor, picnic style, their dinner was interrupted by a knock on the door with a Council courier delivering a large white packet to be signed for by William Bartlett.

Spike brought the envelope back to the group, a bit wary of anything delivered through the mail system. He’d already gotten his unlife and his corporeality back that way… anonymously. Knowing this was from the Watcher’s Council, even or especially with Rupert heading it, made him nervous.

“C’mon, ya big baby.” Xander laughed, not used to seeing the trepidation play across the vampire’s face. “It’s only paper, and I’m sure Giles is past his ‘dust Spike’ phase, even by proxy.”

Buffy offered to open it for him, but Spike refused, figuring if it was going to blow up in someone’s face, it might as well be his own. With grim determination, he slid his fingers under the flap, dumping the contents of the envelope out on the floor.

To his shock, Giles had come through for him, big time. Spike now had several legal copies of his birth certificate, immunization records, valid British citizenship papers, an official green card allowing him to work in the United States, and a stamped passport. He was, for all legal purposes, the almost twenty six year old William Matthew John Bartlett, born December 26th, 1978 in London, England.

Buffy wrapped her arms around Spike’s shoulders, thrilled with Giles’ apparent change of heart. Looking through the papers on the floor, she noted a white envelope with Spike’s name emblazoned in red ink across the middle.

“After going through so much trouble to declare you William Bartlett… who would send a letter addressed to Spike?” She frowned, a tiny furrow forming between her eyebrows. “Someone sending you love letters from the Council, Spike?”

Irritating smirk number four firmly in place, and certainly knowing better, Spike replied, “Could be that Lydia bint. Maybe she survived the First’s Watcher Fest and wants to…”

Thwap!

Ruefully, Spike rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry, luv. Guess I should open it and see who wants what from me now.” He picked up the envelope, smiling as he withdrew the contents. A bloke had to enjoy a little jealousy on his own behalf.

Inside, there was a smaller, sealed brown check envelope – Pay to the order of Mr. William Bartlett showing through the glassine window and a letter, apparently from Giles. Proving that he did have some self control after all, Spike read the letter first, aloud.

Spike,

If you’re reading this letter, it means you haven’t managed to annoy Buffy into dusting you. On the chance that you’re both still together, I’ve decided that she deserves more than a man existing out of time. With a little effort, I managed to unearth your human origins (no worries about this becoming Council knowledge – it will remain off the record unless you choose to make it public) and procure legal identity papers for you.

I’ve also managed to make you your own ancestor, and have accessed familial funds for your use. It seems that you are the last existing Bartlett of your line, meaning there is nobody to contest your inheritance.

Additionally, the Council has decided to show it’s appreciation for our continued existence monetarily. I’ve combined the funds into a single money order in US funds, so you’ll not have trouble accessing the full amount.

Belated as they may be, we all owe you our thanks. Xander informed me of your business plans. Hopefully the money will go a long way in making Phoenix Investigations a success, and keeping Buffy from becoming one of Los Angeles’ homeless denizens.

You have regards from Rona and Kennedy. Willow has a personal message for you. Something about a shovel? She said Buffy will understand.

Take care of them, Spike. Be well.

Rupert Giles

“Would you open up that little brown envelope and see how rich you are already?” Xander was dying of curiosity and as impatient as a kid on Christmas morning… ready to tear into that little envelope himself.

“Easy mate,” Spike said. “I’m still gobsmacked at Rupes puttin’ down kind words to me on paper.”

Buffy was just as impatient. “C’mon, Spike… I need to know if you’re gonna be able to keep me in the style I’m accustomed to.”

“Yeah, can do, pet.” He laughed as he opened the envelope and removed the check. “S’not so hard to find a small house. Trick’ll be convincing twenty under-aged bints to move in with us.”

Spike turned his attention to the check and stared at the little rectangular piece of paper – mouth agape. The check was for seven figures; not a single ‘one’ amongst the seven.

A few weeks before Spike gave up his basement apartment, the gang found a surprise waiting for them at the office. A letter addressed to Buffy was taped to the inside of the door.

Easily recognizing the handwriting, Spike asked, “So, pet… are you plannin’ on sharin’ the contents of the Poof’s letter with the rest of the class?”

Buffy began to read:

Dear Buffy,

Once again I find myself in the position of apologizing to you for trying to do what’s best for you… in my opinion. I never wanted to hurt you by keeping Spike’s resurrection a secret. Most of that was his own decision. I will, however, admit to encouraging his silence.

It’s obvious that some things aren’t and shouldn’t be under my control, and you’ve made your choices for the immediate future. I’ll try my hardest to live by your decisions.

To show my support for your newest venture, I’ve arranged for a surprise. Please knock some sense into Spike’s over-bleached head when he tries to refuse the gesture. Hard.

I’ve had all the windows replaced with necro-tempered glass. Now he has no excuse for sleeping the day away when he should be working hard to pull his weight.

Phoenix Investigations is a good idea. It fills a niche vacated when I made the choice to move to Wolfram & Hart. If possible, I’ll refer the smaller cases your way. Nice to know someone is looking out for them once again.

Good luck to you all.

Angel

From that point on, it didn’t take long. Money, determination, and Spike’s ability to work during the day made things happen rapid-fire; no more than a trio of months passed before Phoenix Investigations was up and running. The apartments were refurbished and decorated, with a nice cushion of money left over to tide them over until the business turned a profit.

The office was bustling – Angel had been true to his word and ferried quite a few small, absolutely legitimate cases their way. Word of mouth spread through both the human and demon communities – nobody was turned away because of inability to pay for services.

Delegation of work was equally divided between Buffy, Spike and Xander. Everyone answered phones, entered cases into their computer system and at least two members went out on each and every call. Harmony and Lorne each donated a number of evening hours per week to answering phones and filing, allowing the complete team to work together when necessary.

Before long, December 23rd was upon them, and they found themselves squabbling about who was going to make the airport run to pick up Dawn.

Spike argued that a little bit of sunshine never stopped him before. Buffy retorted that even though the car had vampire-safe glass, he couldn’t guarantee in the shade parking. Xander insisted that Dawn would be hyper as it was, and he was the calmest and most reasonable person to do the fetching.

As they continued to bicker amongst themselves, the door to the agency opened. A young woman leaned against the door, waiting to be acknowledged. After a few moments she cleared her throat, when it became obvious the employees were too caught up in their argument to notice her.

“Ahem. What does an ancient ex-universe door opening key have to do to get a little attention in this place?”

Buffy shrieked. “Dawnie!” and ran to embrace her sister. “Hey! We were just trying to figure out who was gonna be your chauffeur.” She glanced at her watch. “You’re more than two hours early,” she accused playfully.

“Yeah, well… we caught some great weather, and the connections were smooth, and I was so early I figured I’d just take a cab.” Dawn laughed. “It’s not like I’ll have to shell out any cash for a place to stay, right?”

“Don’t count on it, Bit.” Spike had walked over to Buffy’s side, a soft smile on his lips. “Sis is a regular skinflint when it comes to the budget.”

Dawn extricated herself from her sister’s embrace and molded herself to Spike. “Oh my God,” she mumbled into his shoulder, tears wetting his shirt. “You’re really, really back.”

“Who did you think you were talkin’ to on the phone, pet? A figment of your imagination?” Spike’s grin was infectious, mirrored on Buffy’s and Xander’s faces. “Didn’t call you until I was all solid again, an’ I don’t plan on revisitin’ that state again.”

“Stupid vampire. It’s just so… different. Until I saw you with my own eyes, I wasn’t going to fully believe you were back. I couldn’t. But you’re here and I’m just… just – damn it, I swore I wasn’t going to cry.”

Spike was content to let her snuggle, whispering soothing nonsense into her ear. “S’alright, Niblet. Family forgives all.” He’d missed the girl so much during their estrangement. A few pats on the shoulder, a teary wipe against his shirt and she was off to give the Dawnie-welcome to Xander.

Leaning into her very cuddly vampire, Buffy sniffed. “Our little girl’s all growed up.”

Gently pressing a kiss into her hair, Spike hugged the petite blonde closer to himself. The domesticity of the scene should have set his demon on edge – would have done so to almost any other vampire, but he could feel nothing but contentment thrumming through him.

“Oh… oh… I almost forgot!” Dawn ran to the door, practically stumbling in her haste. “I brought a surprise back with me.”

“It’s about time you remembered I was standing outside with a pile of luggage,” Andrew complained. “People were beginning to look at me funny.”

If synchronized eyebrow lifting were an Olympic sport, the gold medal would be equally shared by the Phoenix Investigations crew.

Xander moved first, clapping Andrew roughly on the shoulder and nearly sending the boy headfirst into the nearest desk. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit, oh little man in tweed?”

“Mr. Giles said it would aid in my Watchers’ training for me to see first hand your new operation in… operation, as it were,” Andrew said importantly.

Spike snorted. “Yeah, meanin’ he’d had enough of you trailin’ after him like a lost pup an’ foisted you off on us for a spell.” With a little pout, the vampire turned to Buffy. “Thought Rupert had finally turned the corner and stopped tryin’ to torture me, pet.”

“Very funny, all of you.” Dawn sighed as she caught sight of Andrew’s crestfallen expression. “Andrew is here because I invited him to share the holiday with me and my family. Don’t you remember what it’s like to be left out of the ‘in’ crowd? To be left out of any crowd?” She walked over to Andrew and linked elbows, smiling at him. “C’mon, shrimp. Let’s go get the suitcases before some nut job walks off with all our clothing.”

They closed the agency for a few days - Christmas Eve through the day after, barring any emergency cases. Everyone agreed to a low-keyed, old fashioned holiday – mulled cider, eggnog, homemade ornaments, and gifts from the heart.

Buffy and Xander left the building early, with their day’s mission of procuring a tree. But on Christmas Eve, the pickings were more than slim, and the mighty hunters returned with a bedraggled pine – about five feet tall with missing limbs.

As the tree settled into the stand, the little family gathered around.

 “You can almost hear the Charlie Brown music playing, can’t you?” Andrew sighed. “I mean, everyone here has taken someone who was less than perfect under their wing – and now we’ve taken this poor little tree under all of ours.”

 “It’s perfect.” Dawn agreed. “And wait until you see it all decorated! We’ve got yards and yards of hand strung popcorn and cranberries. And a great big honking gold star for the top.”

Spike laughed, hugging Buffy to him. “Don’t mind playing housevamp, luv… but no way was I gonna put an angel on our tree.”

Buffy gave her favorite vampire a smack on the rump, and they all set about preparing for their company later in the evening.

A buffet table was set up, the tree trimmed, gifts laid out underneath and a cheesy fake Yule log plugged in.

Of course, Spike had to whisper in Buffy’s ear. “Your giftie has a red ribbon wrapped around it… but you won’t find it under the tree. Not to be unwrapped in mixed company, pet.”

Buffy’s pretty hazel eyes sparkled for the rest of the evening, accompanied by a soft smile that left everybody and nobody wondering just what was said.

Their company soon arrived; Willow brought a small menorah to add to the celebration. Wesley’s contribution was several magnums of vintage Bollinger champagne. Lorne and Harmony arrived bedecked with felt reindeer antlers, passing out a pair to everyone who promised <i>not</i> to sing that evening.

Dinner was a complete success. Informal, everyone helped themselves to as much as they wanted. The champagne flowed along with the conversation, leaving them all sated and peaceful, gathered together.

One by one, they fell asleep next to their respective partners and friends, gazing into the soft glow of the false Yule log. The decorations on the little tree added a delightful and soothing aroma to the darkened room.

And Spike dreamed of celebrating his first birthday in almost two centuries with family.