SECTION 1 - CHINA IN YOUR HAND

It was a flight on the wings
Of a young girls dreams
That flew too far away
And we could make the monster live again

Oh hands move and heart beat on
Now life will return in this electric storm
A prophecy for a fantasy
The curse of a vivid mind

Don't push too far
Your Dreams are china in your hand
Don't wish to hard
Because they may come true
And you can't help them
You don't know what you might
Have set upon yourself
China in your hand

(T'Pau, Album - Bridge of Spies)

Chapter 1.01

Spike looked up from his seat in the waiting room when Buffy emerged from the curtained space to come over and sit by him, shaking her head as she made her way over. He had purportedly been helping Brandon back to his room after his chat with Dawn. In reality, he’d been clearing the area of his potentially embarrassing presence in order that Buffy could discuss what had happened with her sister. Anyone unfamiliar with the vampire might have been surprised by how keen he was for the teenager to receive professional counselling. Buffy knew that he simply wanted the best of all possible treatment for her.

"No go?" he asked.

"It’s not just our men that are stubborn." Buffy shrugged. "She says she doesn’t want to talk to a stranger about it." Buffy took Spike’s hand in her own, making his heart swell at the simple gesture, even as he felt her own uncertainty.

"It’s not going to do her any good to bottle all this up."

"I know. I know." Buffy turned her head to look at the vampire eye to eye. "She says she’s not ready to talk about it, yet. She says when she is, she’ll talk to you."

"Bloody hell. What does she think I know about the subject? It’s a woman… thing."

Buffy ran her fingers through his hair, a seemingly random caress, yet her fingertips played precisely over the scar tissue where his chip had recently been removed. "Everything. She thinks you know exactly how she feels about it. And I agree with her."

Spike winced, but didn’t disagree.

"So what happens now?"

"Well, she won’t let the doctors here examine her to see if there’s any damage. She said that would be like the same thing all over again. Said it doesn’t hurt as such, maybe a little bit of discomfort, but that’s it and she’s got no desire to relive the experience.

The army doctor says she’s stayed… What did he call it?"

"Cognitive?" the platinum blond suggested.

"Yeah, he says she’s been cognitive for long enough now that he thinks a relapse would be ‘highly improbable’, so if she won’t submit to any other tests, he said we might as well take her home and let her rest up there for a couple of days."

"So what do we do about school?" Spike asked. "How much trouble are we in if she doesn’t show?"

"I really don’t know," Buffy admitted. "I mean they basically told me if she missed any more classes then they would have to take her away, but that was a few months back and she hasn’t been missing any more classes since then. I mean it was because she was playing truant… well, mostly. I just don’t know."

"What if we got Brandon’s dad to go along with the story that they were mugged. It’s close enough to the truth without going into embarrassing detail or saying anything that’ll set off alarm bells with social services. I mean they’re not going to doubt the word of one of their own teachers, and you could pick up her assignments. Surely that would keep them quiet at least until Monday?"

"Maybe." Buffy shrugged. "Maybe I should just ring the social services office when it gets to office hours and ask to speak to her case worker. The new one’s not so bad and maybe if I explain, rather than them hearing from the school… and I’ve been thinking I should probably inform them of my changed status anyway."

"Changed status?"

Buffy wiggled her ring finger in front of him. "Kept woman. Unemployed. Returning to college. Those are all the kinds of things they like to keep pretty close tabs on."

"Bollocks. I guess I better chase up those passports and stuff, then."

"Guess so. Is this going to start a whole Green Card issue, as well?"

"Shouldn’t. It’ll just mean the old toe-rag’ll probably want payin’ extra for hurryin’ them up. I’ve told him to set it up as if I’m eligible for dual nationality. Born in Washington to British parents, theoretically, anyway."

"And that’ll work?"

"It better. Otherwise they could end up deporting a pile of dust."

"Will you not joke about that? It wasn’t funny the first time we got engaged and it’s not funny now."

"I’m sorry, pet. I’m confident it’ll be okay."

"That makes me feel so much better, given how your plans normally work out."

Spike deliberately didn’t rise to the bait, knowing it was Buffy’s fatigue and concern for her sister that were making her snappish. Instead, he changed the subject. "So, what’ve we got to do before we can take Bitty home, then?"

"Just some bits and pieces of paperwork, and I might need to give her a hand getting dressed."

"It’ll be okay, you know, love. No one can take her away from us. If they try, we’ll tie them up in so much red tape, she’ll be twenty-one before they can find a way round it."

Buffy’s voice sounded eternally tired as she responded, rising to her feet once more, "I wish I could believe that. I really do."

However, when she went to the reception desk to get the necessary documentation for her insurance company, she was informed that the account had already been settled in full. She looked across at Spike, who shook his head, denying responsibility, which only left the army.

* * * * *

As office hours rolled around Buffy decided to make the more difficult call first. She allowed ten minutes to let Dawn’s case-worker settle in and make a start on her first cup of coffee and then dialled the direct line to her office.

"Ms. Siembeda?" Buffy was so anxious she didn’t even wait for the social worker to give her name.

"Speaking. How can I help?"

"Ms. Siembeda, this is Buffy Summers."

"Buffy, hi. I’ve told you, you should just call me Kathy. I gather there’s been some sort of an upset with Dawn?"

"Well, yes. It’s just I’m going to have to keep Dawn off school for a couple of days on doctor’s orders."

"Buffy, it’s okay. Agent Miller was here first thing to explain. He was waiting here when my supervisor came to open up the office. In fact, he’s sitting here having a coffee as we speak, and I believe one of the other agents was going to clear things with the school.

Mr Miller has made it very clear that Dawn’s injuries in no way reflect on you, and that you have shown the proper concern for her welfare throughout the whole affair, even if he is unable to provide any specifics about what happened."

"So, you won’t be taking Dawn away?"

The case worker chuckled. "No, Buffy. Even us cruel, unforgiving social services types understand that just because something bad happens, that doesn’t necessarily mean a child’s guardian is to blame… especially not in this town. Besides, considering he hasn’t actually told us anything Mr Miller makes an exceedingly good case on your behalf."

Buffy gulped down a huge gasp of air as she suddenly realised she had been holding her breath. "So would now be a good time to tell you I got engaged, we’re planning the wedding for July, I quit my job at DMP and my fiancé’s going to provide for me and Dawn, while I go back to college after the summer?"

This earned Buffy another laugh from the other end of the phone line. "For news like that, any time’s a good time. I’ll have to arrange a visit so that I can meet him and get some details for the file. And this may sound rather forward, but it would probably be no bad thing to invite someone from the department, which would most likely be me, to the wedding itself, if not to the reception. It helps make everything look official on the file.

Is your fiancé currently living with you and Dawn?"

Buffy hesitated, unsure if this was a trick question, but decided the truth was probably her best option. "Not normally, though he has occasionally stayed overnight, but right now a friend of the family is visiting for a couple of weeks, well maybe not really visiting because he might be going to stay, but then he’d get his own apartment, but for now he’s staying at Sp- Will’s so Will’s been staying with us. You see?"

"I see." The woman’s amusement was evident in her voice. "And how’s Dawn taken the news?"

"Really well, Spi- I mean Will’s always been like the big brother she never had, though she can get a bit snippy if he tries to forbid her doing something. Mostly, she’s pleased for us both and pretty much making the most of having him and his cooking around more often."

This earned Buffy another chuckle. "Sounds perfect. He doesn’t have any eligible brothers under fifty, does he?"

"I’m afraid not."

"Look, if Dawn’s going to be off school tomorrow anyway, is there any chance I could make an appointment to see the three of you together? Maybe Will could get away from work early or something?"

"Well, actually, Will isn’t really employed as such. His primary income is from investments." Buffy sounded hesitant, not wanting to make Spike sound like some sort of slacker, but then, basically he was, so there wasn’t really a way around it. "What I mean is, it isn’t a problem, if you just want to pick a time."

"Buffy, stop worrying. It isn’t a problem. It’s providing Dawn with a more stable environment. It’s a good thing that there will be another strong parental figure there for her… unless of course we find out that he’s really a psychopathic child murderer or a serial bigamist or something."

Buffy’s laugh at the social worker’s witticism was slightly forced, but the other woman apparently didn’t notice. "What say I come over tomorrow at about half past two?"

* * * * *

"No, Wesley! You’re supposed to smile pleasantly at the customers – like this, not scowl at them. And if we don’t have the book they want you should offer them an alternative, not tell them the book of prophecies they asked for was written by a madman in the final stages of syphilis and nothing he’s predicted has ever come true. You English people always go all sarcastic when you’re grumpy. And we could have ordered that for them in any case."

"Yes, well, maybe you can manage to be pleasant to uncouth imbeciles on two hours sleep, but I’m afraid it’s beyond me. And I do think it’s rather a sweeping generalisation to say that all English people are sarcastic."

"Well, in a survey of you, Giles and Spike- Ooh! And that Travers guy. All sarcastic. I think my point is made."

"I hardly think that classes as a random sample of the entire English population-." Wesley paused as his cell phone began to ring. When he recognised the voice that replied to his greeting, his scowl turned to a smile at the prospect of finding alternative employment.

"Marie. Hi."

"Hi. Lily told me that she’d said I would call you last night, but we figured you would have been a little busy."

Wesley’s smile cranked up a notch at the understatement. "You could say that," he responded.

"See," Anya pointed. "Sarcastic."

"Anyway, I was wondering, since I’ve got appointments booked for most of the day, if you would mind having that chat over lunch," Marie continued.

Wesley glanced over toward the counter where Anya was busy tidying the impulse-buys section. "I don’t think that will be a problem. What time?"

"Well, my last appointment before lunch is at twelve-thirty. I should be clear by about one and then I’m free until two-thirty."

"Your office is by the courthouse? Why don’t I wait outside for you? Say ten past one? We can work out where we want to go when we meet up."

"See you then."

Wesley put away his phone, looking rather less down in the dumps than he had five minutes earlier.

"So? You and Marie?" The former vengeance demon gave the ex-watcher an appraising look. "Quite the family package for a watcher, what with Rosa and Lily and Clem."

"Marie and I are meeting for a business lunch. That’s all. We're simply going to discuss whether she thinks the D.A.’s office could throw enough work my way to make it viable for me to set up as a Private Investigator."

"What’s to discuss? Either they can or they can’t. Yes or no. Not exactly something you need to take a whole lunch hour for.

I think you’ve got a date."

Wesley returned to his self-appointed task of trying to memorise the locations of different items of merchandise, but his attention was on assessing the likelihood that Anya was correct... and trying to decide how he felt about it if she was.

Chapter 1.02

"You all phoned out, then, love?" Spike asked from Buffy’s bed, where he was lounging, fully dressed apart from his boots and socks.

"Mm-hmm. Graham and Riley apparently paved the way for me with Social Services and the school, but I guess they’re not omnipotent so I actually had to arrange myself for Reverend Hamilton to come over here instead of us going there. You?" Buffy moved to the bed and slid easily into the vampire’s waiting arms.

Spike nodded. "I.D.’ll be here by this time tomorrow morning UPS. You ready to turn in?"

"Nearly. I’ll just check on Dawn again and then I’ll get ready."

"Save you a trip?" Dawn stood in the doorway dressed in a pair of short pyjamas that exposed the dressing on her thigh. She nibbled gently at her lower lip. "I was wondering if maybe I could sleep in here with you?"

Buffy’s eyes flicked to Spike but she answered without hesitation. "Of course, you can… Can’t she, Spike?"

Spike’s support was unstinting, even if his disappointment was apparent. "Goes without saying. I’ll just grab some stuff and get out of your hair."

"I meant can I sleep in here with both of you," Dawn made the vampire pause as he reached the closet where Buffy kept the spare bedding.

"You used to hold me till I’d go to sleep last summer." Dawn pushed her advantage.

"Yeah, pet, I know, but that’s just it. You went to sleep. I didn’t. And I was dressed and on top of the covers. And I’m gettin’ a mite too used to sharin’ the bed with your sister for that. God only knows where my hands would wander to when I’m half-asleep, never mind anythin’ else."

"Please, Spike."

The vampire looked askance to her sister, but when the slayer shrugged he knew he was lost. Shifting back to his previous position on top of the covers, he pulled the corner of the duvet aside, in an invitation to Dawn to join him.

The smile that Buffy gave him as she paused before leaving the room would have been sufficient reward. The mumbled, almost inaudible "love you, Spike," from the duvet-swathed form in his arms, was pure bonus.

When Buffy returned, teeth brushed, face washed and dressed for bed, she wasn’t overly surprised as she slipped under the covers, curling against her sister’s back, to find them both already asleep. She reached across to wrap her fingers around Spike’s forearm, so that between them they formed a barrier between Dawn and the outside world.

* * * * *

"So, what happened last night?" Anya asked having finished instructing Wesley on the use of the various forms the shop used.

"We found Dawn. We brought her back and took her to the hospital."

"That’s it. No big fight to get her back?"

"No. Sorry to disappoint. She was already free when we found her."

"But she’s okay. I mean, when Xander and I found Tara’s note, this morning, it said Spike had the antidote. So, she would be okay?"

"Why don’t you try ringing the hospital? Tell them you’re a friend of the family and see what they say?"

"You’re hiding something." Anya pounced.

"Yes, I am but I honestly don’t think it’s my position to tell you," Wesley demurred.

"Piffle. If Tara had woken us up before she left, or if Xander had remembered the password for the barrier spell so we didn’t have to wait for it to wear off, we would have been at the hospital, instead of some uptight English guy they barely know."

"Be that as it may, it doesn’t change my feelings on the subject."

"Maybe I will just ring the hospital…" Anya almost threatened.

"You do that. I’m going for my lunch." Wes pulled his jacket and helmet from under the counter.

"It’s only twelve o’ clock."

"And since you’re not paying me by the hour and the only point to my being here is to become sufficiently proficient with shop routine to hold the fort for one day, that would make a difference how?"

"You can’t just take a two-hour lunch break. It’s unethical and bad for business."

"Don’t worry," Wesley replied as he pulled open the shop’s front door. "I was actually planning to take a two and a half hour lunch break, possibly longer."

Wes fired up the bike and after making a couple of stops at the mall he turned and headed for the hospital. When the receptionist informed him that both Dawn and Brandon had been discharged that morning, he used his cell phone to call Revello, but after the events of the previous night, it wasn’t too much of a shock to find the phone had been unplugged.

He tried Tara’s cell, feeling ridiculously relieved when she replied.

"Hi, Wes."

"Hi. I was just calling to see how Dawn and Willow were."

"Well, you know Willow, not even a mega headache could keep her away from classes and Dawn and the others, I think, were just going to crash until it was time for their visitor."

"But the antidote worked?"

"Sure. Dawn was a bit the worse for wear, but just from the whole experience. The doctors were pretty confident that they had dealt with the poisoning."

"I guess that explains things. Look, tell them I’ll ring this evening to see how everyone is."

"Sure, but you might catch them before I get in. Will and I were planning on staying late to work on our projects at the library."

"I’ll just take my chances then. Bye."

"Sure. Bye."

Wes checked his watch. There was still over half an hour before he was due to meet Marie for their… was it a date? He turned the bike toward Revello. Stopping outside 1630, he pulled a pen and a pocket notebook from his jacket pocket. He scribbled a note and then slid it under the front door, leaving the bunch of flowers and the more girlish of the stack of magazines he had bought at the mall in the shade of the front stoop.

Then, he leant against his bike to survey the property opposite in the light of day. Someone had already been out and boarded up the window that Spike had smashed his way through. The paint was a little faded, but not peeling and at first glance, the woodwork looked sound. It could probably benefit from some routine maintenance. Nevertheless, it was a decent size. Wes was also willing to bet that if he put in an offer to lease the property, bearing in mind that it had now been on the market and sitting empty for four years, that he could probably get it for less than he was currently paying for his apartment in LA. He jotted down the name on the mailbox and the name and number of the realtor before turning back towards the centre of town.

* * * * *

"Xander? Wesley’s hiding something. Something to do with Dawn. He kept telling me if I wanted to know how she is I should ring the hospital, but they just said she had been discharged earlier this morning. And no one’s answering the phone at Buffy’s. And he just walked out when I tried to find out what was going on and he said he was going to take two-and-a-half hours for lunch. He can’t take that long. And why should he know what’s going on with Dawn when you’re practically family and he won’t say?"

"Ahn, honey, take a breath." Xander sighed into his cell phone. "What exactly did Wesley say?"

"Well, I said he was hiding something."

"Yes?"

"And he more or less admitted it, but he said something like he didn’t see that it was his position to tell us. What does that mean?"

"Just what it says, honey pie. Look, I’ll swing by Buffy’s when I finish work and see how Dawnie and Wills are doing. Wes just doesn’t want to put his foot in it by saying something that maybe Buffy or Dawnie would want to tell us personally. I’m sure that’s all it is."

Xander didn’t catch the next thing Anya said as the phone fell from her hand with a clatter.

His voice sounded tinny as it came from the earpiece of the handset, but Anya’s attention was focussed on the man who had just walked into The Magic Box.

"Hello, Anya," he said in his smooth, educated accent. "Or do you prefer Mrs Harris, these days?"

His words seemed to break through Anya’s shocked veneer and she ran across the floor to throw herself at him. "Giles, you’re back!"

"So it would appear," the watcher answered, his amusement plain in his voice, as he dropped his bags and his arms enfolded the slight form of the young woman.

"You can make Wesley tell us what’s going on when he gets back. You have seniority, don’t you?"

Giles looked down at the woman with a wry smile. He hadn’t been back on the Hellmouth for five minutes.

"If you mean that I’m older than him, yes, but since neither of us are in the council’s employ, I doubt I can make Wesley do anything by any means short of physical violence. And from what I heard about Faith’s attempts at torture I’m not sure that would work particularly well either.

Now, why don’t you stick the kettle on and make a pot of tea and then you can tell me why I would want to…"

After several shouted hellos and Anyas failed to re-attract his wife’s attention, Xander tried shouting money a few times instead. When that didn’t work he pressed the button on his cell that would end the call.

* * * * *

Spike threw himself repeatedly against the cell’s glass front, uncaring of the electrical charges, which jolted through his body at every attempt. Instead of a corridor and an identical row of cells facing him, he looked down on a view of the pit. As he watched impotently, the white-coated doctors had Dawn’s upper body strapped down to a cold steel table. Her feet were strapped into a set of stirrups, her body from just below the collarbone to mid thigh draped in a green surgical sheet that hid what the men and women did to her from Spike’s view. Just the same, every agonised look in those blue-grey eyes tore at his heart, even from fifty feet.

"Spike, stop it. You’ll hurt yourself." As he rebounded off the glass again a small hand caught at his arm. "It’s like this. You just have to believe…"

Slowly Buffy reached out a hand toward the glass. Electricity arced and crackled but didn’t come within six inches of the point where her hand passed through the clear surface. Her wrist followed then her forearm. As her bicep was swallowed by the barrier, she reached out to Spike with her other hand. "These cells are for monsters, Will. If you believe in who you are they can’t hold you. You don’t belong in a cage. You belong with me. You belong with us." Spike was mesmerised by the gentle words the slayer spoke. His gaze locked on hers, still awed and amazed by the love that shone from her greenish eyes. He didn’t even realise that he was free of the cell until she tugged at his arm, yanking him towards the pit. Before he matched his pace to her own he had to look back at the seemingly impenetrable glass wall behind him, still unable to comprehend the miracle that his woman’s faith in him had wrought.

"No!" The cry brought all three of the bed’s occupants from their sleep.

Dawn’s eyes were bright with unshed tears and Spike pulled her to him as he stroked her hair and whispered soothing words.

"Shhh, pet. It’s alright. You’re home now. Everything’s going to be alright…"

Dawn pushed herself forcefully away from his arms. "No. No, it’s not okay. I’m not okay. Do you know what she did to me? Do you understand? You swore that you would die before you let someone hurt me. You swore…" Her words died away to be replaced by sobs.

Buffy’s arms wrapped around the tearful teen, but her eyes were fixed on the horrified face of her fiancé. Dawn was simply acting out, but her words couldn’t have hurt the vampire any more had they been chosen with that specific purpose in mind. Buffy could see the pain on his face clear as day. Then, he rolled from the bed and picking up the orbs and his cigarettes, he left. Even when he was no longer in the house, she could feel his pain and his regret, as she was sure he could still feel hers.

Chapter 1.03

Buffy cradled her sister in her arms until her sobs died away to hiccups.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No-o." Dawn’s reply was immediately followed by a huge sniff that had the elder girl reaching for the box of tissues that she kept on her nightstand. "I don’t even want to think about it. I just want it to have never happened."

"Me too, Dawnie. Me too. And not just me. I’m so sorry. I keep thinking if mom were here, she wouldn’t have let it happen."

"That’s not true," Dawn told her. "Mom couldn’t have done half the stuff you and Spike did when you came for me."

"It feels true. You feel like it’s true. You feel like we let you down. It feels like we let her down."

"It still isn’t true. It’s more my fault than anyone else’s. Brandon wanted to ring you, but I wouldn’t tell him your cell number because I thought you’d be mad that I didn’t get permission before I went out."

"Yeah, well, I think maybe you’ve learned that lesson without being grounded. And since by the time you had reason to ring you would already be drugged, what say we put it down to that?

Look, if we’d known you wanted to go to the Bronze, chances are we would have skipped dinner and gone there ourselves. I know you think we’re paranoid, but we just worry. I mean we don’t want to stop you having a good time. We want you to have a social life, and believe it or not Spike came pretty close to admitting that he liked Brandon while you were out of it. It’s not even as if you have to sit with us."

"I know but it just doesn’t feel like a real date when your big sister’s playing the chaperone all the time."

"Dawnie, I don’t know what to tell you. We try to walk a line between giving you your freedom and keeping you safe, but the truth is it’s a trade-off. There’s nothing anyone can do to take back what happened last night. All we can do is try to help you pick up the pieces and do what we can to help you feel safe again, even if it means giving Sam a taste of her own medicine. And, yes, thanks to Spike you can take that literally. And as to the chaperones, I reckon you’ve pretty much shot yourself in the foot."

"What?"

"Well, you told a certain someone it was his fault. You think he’s going to let the same thing happen again? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s phoning the school right now to sign us up as chaperones for every event between now and your graduation."

"What? No. He can’t come to prom."

"Dawnie… I don’t know what he’s going to want to do, but you need to talk through what you’re feeling with us, especially with him. If he thinks that you hold him responsible for what happened then you probably won’t leave this house outside school hours again without your very own stalker."

"God, no." Dawn started to deny the possibility and then remembered exactly who she was talking about. "He…would. Is he on the porch?"

"Nope, moving around outside. I guess maybe I best go start a bath running."

"Huh?"

"He didn’t stop long enough to grab his boots and the sprinklers have been on."

* * * * *

Xander pushed open the door of The Magic Box cautiously, keeping the length of three by two, which he was carrying, out of sight behind his back. He had been forced to use the key that Anya had had cut for him to open the shop’s front door as in a rare spontaneous moment Anya had stuck up a sign saying they were closed for lunch. This alone was enough to worry her husband, even if it hadn’t been for the aborted phone call earlier.

He moved as cautiously as he could through the seemingly deserted shop until he was stopped short by a naggingly familiar snort of laughter.

"Ahn, honey?" he called out, as he moved rather more confidently toward the training room.

He pushed the door open to find Anya and Giles sitting on the sofa, tea in hand as Giles dabbed tears of laughter from his eyes.

"You couldn’t answer the phone?" Xander asked.

"Hi, honey!" Anya rose from her seat to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Shouldn’t you be at work?"

"I could say the same to you…"

"Oh, I was just filling Giles in on what’s been happening, or as much as I know about what’s been happening. I just got as far as telling him about how you’re going to be ring-bearer at the wedding."

"I still haven’t definitely agreed to do it."

"Fiddlesticks. You told Dawn you would do it. You think you have a hope of backing out now, then I suspect you’re sorely mistaken."

Xander gave up on getting an answer as to why he had had to stick his fingers down his throat until he threw up half his lunch in an effort to convince his boss that he was ill and needed to leave. It obviously wasn’t going to happen.

"So, G-Man, what excitement and derring do brings you back to good old Boca del Infierno?"

"Well, I suppose you could say it was the wedding…" Giles seemed reluctant to clarify matters further.

"Wedding’s not for another two months, and I don’t seem to recall the bride-to-be mentioning that you were expected."

"Since it would appear that our every communication is likely to be intercepted, I deemed it better to present our listeners with a fait accompli." Giles balanced his teacup carefully on the arm of the sofa. "I think perhaps I should go and find myself a hotel and get a few hours rest until such time as the occupants of Revello Drive are receiving visitors."

As he reached the door into the main shop, Giles turned to address the younger man once more.

"Xander… Those orbs… Where are they at the moment?"

"Well, Spike has them, actually. He-."

"Good. I suggest, for the present, you leave it that way. I’ll be in touch."

* * * * *

"I didn’t mean it." Dawn took a seat on the porch and waited for Spike to join her. Instead he stood several feet away, smoke curling up in front of him every so often as he exhaled.

"Yeah, string bean. You did. You meant every last syllable and you were right."

"But it wasn’t your fault."

"S’got nothing to do with how you feel. I made you a promise I couldn’t keep an’ I shouldn’t have done that. You’ve got every right to feel betrayed."

"Doesn’t give me the right to hurt you."

"Comes with the territory, kitten." The vampire finally turned and came to sit beside her. "We always hurt the ones we love."

"You caught that, huh?"

"You meant me to, didn’t you? ‘Course I caught it.

Anyway, you think when those wankers got their mitts on me I was prepared to admit to myself that it was my own stupid fault for being too distracted to notice six clod-hopping army boys in hob-nailed boots coming up behind me?"

"So who did you blame?"

Spike treated her to a lascivious grin. "The distraction."

Dawn gave a sigh. "Do I even have to ask?"

"What?" Spike teased with a false innocent air. "Was just doin’ a bit of recon to see if her fightin’ had improved any…"

"You are so…"

"So charming, debonair and roguishly attractive?"

"You want to go with debonair, lose the muddy feet."

"Critics, always critics."

His arm slipped around the teenager’s back. "Look, if you need somebody to shout at, to blow off steam about this little lot, then that’s understandable. Just make sure that it’s me and not sis’. She might not cope too well with it at the moment."

"So how do you cope? What’s your secret to dealing with assholes who treat you like you’re less than human?"

"Joyce wouldn’t be very happy to hear you using descriptions like that even if they are justified, pet. And, I pretty much ignore Harris as much as possible. The rest, I spend many a happy hour plotting in great detail how I’ll exact my bloody revenge, but you’re one up on me there. Finn’s rebound bitch should be locked up for the rest of her natural with any luck."

"Buffy said you gave her a dose of her own medicine."

"Yeah, well, at first I was going to use her to test the antidote, then when I heard that tape, I decided I wasn’t in a hurry for her to get better."

"What happened to that tape?"

"Still in my coat pocket. GI Joe wanted it for evidence, but I told him that was up to you. If you wanted it destroyed, it would be destroyed."

The vampire drew deeply on his cigarette and then exhaled in a long grey plume before he continued.

"Bitlet, you have to know she was wrong. You may not be average. You may have been made rather than being born, but you’re all human. You’re your mother’s daughter and sometimes you're so like Buffy it just wrings my heart out.

All the Key stuff, it means you’re special. It doesn’t make you a freak or give anyone the right to treat you any differently, and it’s not what defines you as a person. It’s not why we love you."

"Are you sure? You were all programmed to love me before I even existed."

"Me? Are you kidding? How long d’they reckon you’ve been around now?"

"Maybe coming up on a couple of years…"

"Events, pet. What was happening?"

"Dunno. Maybe round about when Drac paid a call."

"Right. And before that, how often had you and me hung out? I remember you peeking round the corner the night your mum found out about vampires. I remember you feeding me blood when I was chained up in the watcher’s tub. An’ I guess I thought you were a gutsy little thing, but that’s about it. The monks didn’t bother givin’ you memories of me. I was beneath their notice. They had you following droopy boy round as if the Summers women’s taste in men was a genetic flaw.

I don’t love you because of any false memories, I love you because I’m a soft-hearted wanker that you personally wrapped right around your pretty little finger. Nothin’ to do with no monks. Nothin’ to do with anyone ‘cept you and me, baby doll."

"I think I’m going to have to tell Brandon." The statement apparently came out of nowhere, but the vampire had a feeling that if he listened long enough he’d find out how his future sister-in-law’s mind had made the leap.

"You sure about that, Bitty?"

"Well, I think he already sort of knows. He just doesn’t understand."

Spike gave her the questioning eyebrow.

"I didn’t know whether he was just going out with me because of his dad sort of watching us, except I suppose he wasn’t really, but you know what I mean."

"I know."

"So, it seemed kinda unlikely that out of all the girls in high school he would just decide to ask me out. I mean I’m not Miss Popularity. I’m not on the cheerleading squad. I don’t have the right clothes or whatever. I’m the freaky loner, who cuts herself, with a freaky sister who’s in a gang or something and always starting fights. So maybe it’s kind of hard to accept that out of all the people he could hang out with, that a cool guy like him would want to hang out with me."

"Not so tough, platelet. Haven’t I told you before that when you’re done growing you’re going to give Buffy a run for her money?"

"Yeah. Biased or what? Anyway, I asked him just why he did ask me out. He said, first time he saw me, just for a couple of seconds he said it was as if I glowed. He said I looked like an angel."

"Okay, so the guy’s a lunatic?" Spike’s face twisted into a teasing grin. "More reason not to tell him, I’d say."

Dawn slapped the vampire on the leg. "Stop it. I’m trying to be serious. He says his maternal grandfather is known to have a touch of the second sight as he put it. What if it’s common to all the males in the family?"

"What if it is, love? Like you say he doesn’t understand it…"

"He thinks it’s this whole love at first sight deal. I’d feel like I was lying to him if I let him keep thinking that. And I’m scared, maybe, that if he realises later he was wrong… That if… I mean if I wasn’t the key he wouldn’t be going out with me."

"You don’t know that, honey. For all you know he could be as psychic as house brick. Maybe what he saw is precisely what he thinks he saw. Even if what he saw was the Key, don’t you think it’s more than coincidence that that would be just the thing to set him off? And for just long enough to make him really take a good look at you? A very clever man once said, "God does not play dice with the universe." If the kid saw you that way, it’s because he was meant to see you that way."

"So what’re you saying? That it was pre-ordained that he would ask me out?"

"No. We’ve all got free will. I’m saying that maybe someone somewhere figured it was about time some good-looking guy who isn’t about to become your in-law noticed you. The fact that once he did, he’s taken the time to get to know you and to learn about who you are, is nothing to do with you being the Key. And if that guy is still interested after getting shot, then, take it from me, he thinks you’re pretty special."

"So would you mind if I wanted to tell him?"

"Personally, no, but I think this is one of those situations where your sister would plain overrule me if she disagreed. And if she does, I’ll back her up absolutely, regardless of what I think."

"How can you say that?"

"Because when it comes down to it, it’s a decision about your safety and the safety of those around you. As you so ably pointed out the other day Buffy is the one who is your designated guardian. If she chooses to err on the side of caution, I will stand up for her right to make that decision."

"So, if Buffy were to say that she didn’t think you needed to follow me round everywhere, you would go along with her opinion as my designated guardian."

"That depends. If you’ve learned your lesson and you’re going to act responsibly, by which I mean you let us know where you’re going and when you’re going to be back, if you call us at the first sign of trouble, then, yes, I would probably go along with it. If you’re going to sneak around behind our backs, then, I would just have to err on the side of caution."

Dawn seemed to consider this for a time. "Cool… I guess. So no grounding or anything?"

"Would that teach you anything you haven’t learned the hard way? And there’s no point stopping you seeing the kid, ‘cause he’s probably a better influence than Janice."

"Hey…" Dawn protested before their discussion moved off into a whole different territory.

Chapter 1.04

"Hey there!"

Marie’s greeting pulled Wes out of his daydream.

"Somebody looked to be thinking big thoughts."

"Oh, just trying to get my head round the idea of moving back here."

"And the idea makes you look that serious?" the tiny woman teased him. "I thought you wanted to move back here."

"I do… or rather…" Wes gave a sigh. "I thought I was settled in LA. Worthwhile job, good friends, someone I cared about. Leaving all that behind is a big step, even if the fact of the matter is that none of it’s there any more."

"Ok-ay. I was going to suggest we grab a hot dog from the stand at the entrance to the park, but I think this calls for some spiritual chicken soup, instead. Come on. My car’s parked out back."

Wes heaved a mental sigh of relief. Hot dog stands sounded far more like a couple of friends meeting up and getting some food than a date. At least that cleared that up.

Before she started up the car, she tossed her cell phone to the watcher in the passenger seat. "If you hold down the six key, it’ll put you straight through to Domino’s. Get a family special, you pick the topping as long as there’s no anchovies and have them send it to Lily’s. You remember the address?" Marie asked as she pulled up to the entrance of the parking lot.

"Sure." Wesley made the call and then turned to watch Marie as she drove. "Em, we’re going to see your mother-in-law?"

"Yep. Real food, she’s not so hot. Spiritual sustenance, she’s a five star restaurant."

She pulled the car up in front of the block of flats and waited for Wes before heading in. "If anyone can help you figure out whether this is just a case of cold feet or whether you really should be staying in LA, it’s Lily."

"I don’t really see that a quick chat is going to do the trick."

"Then, I guess that no one’s really explained to you about Lily. From what I’ve heard she’s sort of like the guy who was kidnapped with Spike, only no need to sing."

She pushed open the door of the ground floor flat and called out as she walked along the corridor to the main room. "Lily, I’ve brought someone home for lunch. I think maybe the two of you should have a little talk." Wesley followed on, unsure what to think of this latest development.

Lily came bustling through from the kitchen to greet Wes like the proverbial prodigal son.

"Wesley. Is good for you to be here."

"Food’s on its way. I’m going to go have my own personal PTA meeting, while you help our friend here work out what he wants to do. He’s feeling kind of homesick for LA." With that the young woman headed toward the exit.

Lily’s gaze pinned the watcher as she took a seat in one of the armchairs at the far end of the room, gesturing him toward the sofa.

"Sit! Sit! Marie she say you homesick for LA, but LA no home to no one, so I think you missing the people."

"I suppose so," Wes admitted as he settled into the soft cushions. "That and being part of the whole Champion thing."

"Pffft! Champion for the Powers is no so big a deal." The demon dismissed Angel’s claim to fame in an instant.

"I beg to differ," her guest argued. "What can be more important?"

"You choose what more important when you choose to walk away. You choose to follow your heart. You humans, you talk about the Powers as if you talk about God. Powers are just that. They not good or bad. Mostly, they selfish. If power corrupt then they more power than most. They arrange things to suit them. Where is big deal for being their peon?"

"But aren’t they a force for good?"

"Some, if they seek adoration, love. Some seek fear, some no care at all. It is a better man who sets his own course according to his creed, than who follows blindly on the orders of one he neither knows nor comprehends."

"You really believe that?"

"I know that. I think you can do good work here. I think already you help William’s little sunrise." It took Wes a second or two to realise that she meant Dawn. "I think if you stay you can help many people, many demons who no have no one to turn to. If you follow your heart. You good man, Wesley. Here is place where we need good men."

"And what if my heart is in LA?"

"The baby horse?" Lily asked. "She choose, my friend. Is done." The demon held Wes’s gaze as she continued her sympathy evident in her gaze. "She is little girl. Is right for now that she should be with little boy. You no little boy. You need woman, to be your wife, to have your children, to make life with, no little girl for you to be knight. Is time to put away childish things.

Is not to be easy, but you stay, we help. My Marie help with work. We help you find office, new home. Is new start, new beginning but many people to help, us, William, Buffy, Dawn. Is better not see pony. Is better to forget. Clean slate.

I think in time have better life here than you think. I make tea. You think about what I say. Is true, but men they need time to think through what woman knows." With that she bustled back to the kitchen, leaving a somewhat shell-shocked Wesley in her wake.

"Hello!" Clem’s voice sounded from the doorway. "Rosa said there was a pizza delivery on its way."

"Is coming," Lily shouted back from the kitchen.

Clem came in and claimed the other armchair, but Wesley hardly noticed as Marie came through the door after him. She carried Rosa on one hip, her love for the child evident in every glance her way. As she looked up to see Wes watching them her smile seemed to include him in their family unit.

"I don’t think you two have been formally introduced. Rosa, this is Wes. Or do you prefer Wesley?"

"Wes is just fine."

"Okay. Wes, this is my daughter Rosa."

Wes heard the introduction, but his brain was too busy providing another soundtrack for the admittedly beautiful mother and child portrait in front of him, Lily’s words of a few moments earlier. ‘You need woman, to be your wife, to have your children, to make life with…’

He began to have a feeling that, true or not, Lily’s advice wasn’t entirely impartial. His gaze flicked briefly to the older demon, catching the merriment on her features before he held out his hand to the little girl, who was obviously amused to be asked to shake hands.

"Pleasure to meet you."

A smile broke across the little girl’s face. "You talk like Unker Will reads," she told him, unwittingly giving away one of Spike’s fluffiest secrets.

"Do I indeed?" Wes asked.

It was some time later before all the pizza was eaten and Rosa was due to be returned to the care of her tutor.

Lily diplomatically offered to escort the child back upstairs, to allow Marie to chat to Wes about the business of setting up and some of the legal necessities involved. She had one last trick up her sleeve before she took the little girl away, though.

"Wesley, is good that you stay. Is so good, I think maybe we have party here for dinner Saturday night. We ask William and the girls, too. You come."

The sight of the little girl dancing on the spot in excitement made it impossible for Wes to refuse, as he was sure the old demon had known it would. "Of course," he answered. "What time?"

* * * * *

"Hi, come on in. Can I take your coat? Maybe you’d like a drink? Some coffee? Or maybe a soda? We’ve got some ice tea in the fridge."

"Yes, you can take my coat. As to drinks, whatever you’re having will be fine. How’s your sister, by the way?" the young cleric passed over his jacket to Buffy, who hung it up on one of the pegs in the hall.

"Oh… you know. Physically, a couple of weeks and you’d never know anything happened. Mentally, we could be catching the fallout years from now."

"I’m sure you’ll give her all the support you can."

The minister waited in the hall for Buffy to return from the kitchen with a selection of sodas, before heading up to the teenager’s room.

"Is your sister going to be up to this?"

"Oh, she might have been told to stay home from school and rest up, but I assure you a bit of reading won’t be beyond her." Buffy pushed open the room door to reveal Dawn sitting in bed, headphones on, tray full of magazines on her lap, painting her fingernails silver. A vase of white spray carnations with red edging on the petals stood by the side of her bed. Thanks to Spike’s intervention she was dressed in her most concealing pair of pyjamas underneath the bedclothes, and he’d even made her put on a bra, which in her mind sort of spoiled the whole idea of lazing round in pyjamas, but the vampire had been adamant.

She looked up startled as the door pushed open, tipping the bottle of polish over the topmost magazine. Buffy snatched at it, picking it up before it could pool onto the tray itself. The teenager pulled the headphones from her ears, and Buffy grimaced at the music that came from them.

"Has Spike been making tapes for you again?" Buffy asked, holding her hand out to take the bottle cap from her sister.

"Brandon, actually." Buffy rolled her eyes. Sometimes she wondered if Dawn realised that she was basically dating a young human Spike. "Didn’t realise it was that time. Sorry." Dawn ripped the cover off the soiled magazine using a delicate precision to avoid smudging those nails she’d finished painting. She scrunched it into a ball, sending it sailing to bounce off the rim of her waste paper basket and onto the floor. As Buffy hastened to rescue it before the polish stained the carpet, Dawn treated the minister to an apologetic smile.

"So, are you ready to start now?" the preacher asked as Buffy passed around the sodas and he passed a gospel in booklet form to each of the girls.

"Well, I’ve kinda got a couple of questions before we start the lesson proper." Buffy bit at her lip.

The young man gave her an understanding smile as if this were par for the course. "Fire away."

"Not that I’m not grateful, but I just wondered why you’re prepared to do this. I mean the wedding, not the bible study. When Spike said he would only get married in church if the minister was prepared to do it knowing what he was, I was sort of ready to head for the Vegas wedding chapel. I didn’t really expect that the first guy, em, reverend that I asked would say yes."

"Buffy, I could tell you it's because it's patently obvious to anyone who sees the two of you together that you love each other. I could tell you that it's obvious that Spike understands fully the commitment he is making before God and I believe he takes it very seriously, which is more than can be said for some couples who come to me. I could also tell you that I believe his motives are just. I could tell you that since he basically intimated to me that you were sleeping together and that the situation wasn't going to change that I felt it was my duty to sanctify the union-."

Buffy looked shocked. "But, but I heard every word he said. He didn't mention anything about that."

"Not unless you knew the context of the passage which he quoted, and he knew that I would. Buffy, I could give you all these reasons and any one of them would be almost enough to justify my decision, but the fact of the matter is that in the end it came down to one thing.

There are several constants throughout the bible. One is the tenet of "Judge not, lest you shall be judged." It’s not my place to decide whether Spike or even you are worthy or unworthy in the eyes of God. He is the only one who can do that. This is illustrated time and again throughout the bible, and more often than not those who think they are guaranteed a place at God’s right hand are condemned for their greed, their vanity or some other sin and those who deem themselves unfit for whatever reason are generally wrong, too. No one can know whether they will see heaven, all anyone can do is try to be worthy."

"But, isn’t it all a soul thing? And Spike doesn’t have one of those…"

"How do you know? Do you know exactly what a soul is? Because I don’t. The same word that’s often translated from Greek to mean ‘soul’ in the bible could just as easily have been translated to say ‘life’. The Hebrew word for ‘spirit’ can also be translated as ‘breath’. When you start to look at things in that light, you realise that some things which are commonly misconceived to have their origins in the bible are nothing more than dogma."

"So you say that Spike isn’t by his nature inherently damned?"

"Jesus says, "Whosoever believes in me shall not perish but shall have everlasting life." Not those who believe and have a soul, whatever you take that to mean, and I defy you to prove who has one and who doesn’t by the way, or who happen to be the same species as the guys who wrote the book. Just whosoever."

"Em, well, this kind of leads me to the next question. I’m guessing from that, that you wouldn’t have any objections if a couple of the attendants and a guest or two weren’t entirely human as such?"

"No, Buffy, I don’t have a problem with that. I was more or less expecting it, though you will need two witnesses whose identity is… legally established, I guess is the best way to put it, to sign the register."

Dawn gave her sister a questioning look. "A couple of the attendants?"

"Oops. Guess I didn’t mention asking Marie about having Rosa as a flower girl, huh?"

"Guess not," the teenager mock huffed, but then couldn’t contain a grin. "She is going to be so cute."

The minister cleared his throat. "Well, if that concludes the question and answer for just now, maybe you’d like to open the gospels I gave you at the beginning?"

A calm settled over the group as the minister read from the tracts that he had given the girls, pausing every so often to discuss the passages with them. Everything seemed to be going rather better than Buffy had expected. That was before the sound of two male voices bickering and then shouting carried through the house to Dawn’s room.

Chapter 1.05

Spike cocked his head and listened as he heard the car draw to a stop nearby. When he confirmed that the footfalls were moving toward the Summers house, he abandoned his current chore of scraping the paint from the windows of the DeSoto to make his way around to the front of the house. He knew he had to intercept the visitor before they could reach the front door, or more importantly, the doorbell.

Even as Xander reached for the door handle, Spike called out in a voice he hoped wasn’t loud enough to carry up to Dawn’s room and disturb his girls, getting quieter again as he got closer to the carpenter. "Wouldn’t bother. Should be locked. Finally managed to convince Buffy that leaving the door open to all and sundry, while it may occasionally save on the replacement bills, wasn’t really the best idea in the world."

Xander’s eyes narrowed as he replied, trying the handle anyway. "I get it. All and sundry meaning me."

"No-o-o. All and sundry including you. There’s a difference."

Spike fished in the front pocket of his jeans to pull out a key for the door, waiting for the young man to step aside so he could open it.

"If you’re lookin’ for Red or Glinda you’re out of luck ‘cause they’re supposed to be workin’ late at the library on some project or other." Spike pushed the door open and stepped through. "Point of fact, unless you want to grab a beer and keep quiet while I catch up on Passions, you’re out of luck all round, I’m afraid."

Xander followed the vampire in, protesting as he did so. "But the hospital said that Dawn was discharged. She’s got to be here."

Spike shifted, whether intentionally or instinctively to block the stairs.

"You’re not listening, Special Ed. I didn’t say they weren’t here. I just said if you wanted to see them you’d have to shut up and wait."

"What do you mean wait? Wait for what? Dawn hasn’t had a relapse? You haven’t had to get the doctor out, have you?"

"No. No doctor. They’re just busy. Like I say, if you want to see them, you’ll have to wait or come back later." The tightly clenched muscles in Spike’s jaw left no doubt as to which of the scenarios he would prefer.

"How much later? And what do you mean busy? What are you trying to hide?"

"Bugger all." With two words Spike managed to convey his disdain for the Scooby’s insecurities. "But if Buffy or Dawn had wanted you to know what they’re doing, they’ve had more than ample opportunity to tell you, so I can only assume that they don’t want you to know."

"So you’re not hiding anything. I guess, in that case, you told us all everything there is to know about what happened to Dawn last night?"

Spike’s temper flared in defence of his adoptive daughter. "No, I bloody didn’t, and I don’t bloody intend to."

Xander nodded his head as if coming to a realisation. "I know what you’re up to, Spike… Calling meetings at demon’s houses, bringing in your biker, English, leather-wearing sidekick. That’s why he gets to know about Dawn but none of us do. You’ve always wanted to break us up and when that didn’t work you’re just replacing us, instead. We’re being supplanted by a bunch of demons and English guys and your harem. You just want it to be all your friends telling the slayer what to do. That’s why we didn’t get invited to LA until it was all but over."

Spike’s jaw had literally dropped open halfway through Xander’s tirade, but it didn’t take him long to recover. "Have you listened to yourself? I have never met such a self-important, paranoid wanker in my life." ‘Mostly because Angelus was never that paranoid,’ he thought to himself. "Does it even occur to you that we might simply not be telling you every detail of every last trauma Bit endured because it is simply. None. Of. Your. Business? I know and Red knows because we were the ones who found the evidence. The only person I told was Buffy and if her or Dawn chose to tell Wes, or if he overheard anything at the hospital, then I’m glad he’s not shouting his mouth off. It shows he has some respect for other people’s privacy, which is a damn sight more than I can say for you.

And as to replacing you so that my friends can tell the slayer what to do… If, by that, you’re saying that you and Red have been using Buffy like some sort of trained dog for the last six years, then I’d really like to hear what she thinks of that.

And I suspect the reason you weren’t asked to LA until it was all but over is that chances are Buffy didn’t ask anyone in Sunnydale for help to begin with. I suspect that unlike you, the others actually decided for themselves to come help out when they heard what had happened, so if you’re feeling left out about it then I suspect it’s all your own fault."

"Enough!" Buffy’s voice carried down from the upstairs hallway, where she, Dawn and Reverend Hamilton now stood. Neither man had any idea how long they had been there. Xander gave an audible gulp as he saw the minister in his distinctive garb, his eyes seeming to lock onto the man’s dog collar in horror.

"Spike, just back off… please. Xander, you leave or you wait quietly with Spike for another hour. Those are your only two options. Didn’t you listen when he told you we were busy, or were you too busy letting your demon paranoia take over your mouth to use your brain? And in future maybe you could call."

"What? No, I just wanted to see Dawnie and make sure she was okay."

This time it was Dawn herself who replied. "No, Xander. No, you didn’t. You were just feeling sorry for yourself because someone else knew something you didn't. Boo hoo. So Xander felt like the odd man out. Well, does it make you feel any better to know that she taped me down to a table and stuck some thing inside me and then jacked it open nice and wide so she could have a good look and check everything was in working order? Does it?

Does that make you feel like a big man? Maybe you and Anya can use it in one of your little role-play sessions." As soon as her pain stopped providing fuel for her mouth the teenager broke down in tears. Xander stared at her tear-stained face and would have given anything to take back his shouted words so that she wasn’t hurt and he could have remained in ignorance.

The minister cleared his throat. "I think those of us who aren’t family should leave now, don’t you?" He looked at Xander, who belatedly realised that the wooden banister was making cracking noises under Spike’s fingers and the eyes that stared angrily at him were golden and not blue.

"Yeah… yeah. I guess so." Xander backed the few feet to the door, afraid that if he turned his back on the vampire that he would miss the moment the demon’s control snapped. In his present state, Xander was sure that the vampire would happily beat him through the pain.

As soon as Xander was out the door Spike practically flew up the stairs to wrap himself around Dawn’s back, so that she was held securely between him and Buffy.

The minister placed a gentle hand on Buffy’s shoulder. "I’ll just fetch my bible and then I’ll let myself out. Why don’t you call nearer the time to confirm whatever arrangements you want to make for next week?"

None of the three people remaining really noticed when he let himself out and neither did the young man who sat outside in his car with his head resting on the steering wheel.

* * * * *

Spike teased the puffy-eyed teenager as he and the two girls lounged across the youngster’s bed.

"I could give him a great big snog and then bite his tongue out. That would shut him up a bit."

Dawn’s mouth twitched upwards slightly despite herself. Her voice still held a gentle tone of reprimand as she voiced her disapproval. "Spike, you’re an engaged man. You’re not meant to ‘snog’ anybody but Buffy …though I would love to see the look on Xander’s face if you tried."

"Okay, scratch that one. I could rip his balls off. It’s meant to work with cats, makes them less territorial and prone to get in fights and stuff."

Dawn giggled. "Yeah, then Anya would rip off yours. Don’t think she’d be very keen on being married to a dud."

"Hmm, good point. Doubt Buffy would be thrilled about it either."

Now that some of Dawn’s earlier good mood had been restored, Buffy decided it was time to intervene. "Don’t you think it’s about time you two stopped discussing which bits of my best friend you could remove by various means?"

Spike looked at Dawn’s alarm clock. "We’ve only been at it for ten minutes. We could keep it up for hours yet."

"Yeah? Well, me and Dawn have got more important things to do." Buffy picked up the bottle of silver nail polish and indicated Dawn’s unfinished manicure.

"Makeover time, is it? I guess I better scarper before you pair have me looking like Tammy Faye Bakker." With a last stroke to Dawn’s hair Spike rose from the bed. "Just shout if you want me."

"As if!" the teenager replied, but the look in her eyes said otherwise. "Back to work, vamp boy. You know it’s not that long until my sixteenth birthday, and I need to be able to see what I’m doing if I’m going to learn to drive before Buffy."

"Y’know a man can only be pushed so far, Bitlet."

"I know, and the rest he does because he loves us."

With a quick growl the vampire left the room, letting Dawn have the last word, just because he could.

* * * * *

It was half an hour later when the sound of the phone had Spike dashing into the kitchen with a shout of, "I’ve got it." After only a few brief exchanges Spike replaced the phone in the receiver before heading upstairs to pass on his news.

"That was the watcher. Wanted to know if it was okay to come over later, so I told him he might as well come over and stay for dinner as eat on ‘is own. That okay with you two?"

"I kinda thought it would be just the three of us tonight," Dawn sounded disappointed.

"Well, if you want I can ring him back and say it’s a no go. And I guess that idea I had about seeing whether Brandon’s dad would let him come over if I picked him up would be a non-starter as well." The vampire gave a theatrical sigh. "I’ll just go let him know that the Summers household is not at home to visitors this evening."

"Did he say what he wanted?" Buffy asked, sounding concerned.

Spike gave a quick shake of his head. "Just that he had some news."

"It’s probably just another Apocalypse." Dawn snorted derisively. "Big news. Get with the dad ringing already."

The vampire raised an eyebrow. "Number one, I had a feeling you might want to make the call. Number two, it’s still school hours, so if he got someone else to look after the kid and went to work he won’t be there. Number three, I am about to nip out and buy a few beers and some extra bits and pieces for dinner. And number four, I am not your unpaid servant, whatever you might think."

The last point seemed totally lost on Dawn, however. "Ooh, can you get some more cookie dough mint fudge, and some diet seven up. Oh, and some chocolate would be good, or maybe some chocolate ice cream? Something chocolatey anyway…"

Spike turned on his heel and began to walk away. The last thing he caught before Buffy closed the bedroom door was Dawn’s anguished cry of, "heyyy, I wasn’t finished yet!"

* * * * *

A couple of hours later Spike was busy in the kitchen when the doorbell rang.

"Buffy, pet, can you get that? It’s probably our dinner guest. I’ve kind of got my hands full."

Buffy’s eyes widened in surprise as she pulled open the door. Her joy and surprise were both evident in her voice as she said his name before, with a welcoming smile, she wrapped her arms around the man’s neck and hugged him until he was gasping for breath.

Her cry was closely followed by a small crash from the kitchen and a much louder, "bloody hell!" Seconds later, the vampire appeared in the living room doorway.

"Spike!" Buffy berated him as she clung to Giles’ arm. "You let me think you were talking about Wesley."

Her fiancé nodded his head toward the open doorway, from which the distinctive sound of a large motorbike engine could be heard for a second or two before it was cut off.

"That would be because I was talking about Wesley. Guess you better set an extra place at the table, pet.

So?" He turned to Giles. "Two watchers at one time? I guess this means it really is an apocalypse."

Chapter 1.06

Tara had a bad feeling. According to the plans they had made the previous afternoon Willow should have met her here almost three quarters of an hour ago. Up until their LA trip Tara might not have worried unduly about a relatively short delay, but since they all had cell phones now there was no good reason for Willow not to have contacted her. She knew that Willow had recharged her phone the previous night, and she could remember seeing her pack it in her book bag this morning.

Tara had tried sending her a text message when half an hour had gone by with no sign of the redhead. When no response was forthcoming after a further ten minutes, she discovered when she tried to speak with her that her phone had been switched off in the intervening period. Willow didn’t want to be found, and if that were the case, Tara could only think of one reason.

She tried the number for the Magic Box, hoping that Anya would still be there, but there was no response other than the answering machine. Next, she tried to catch Anya at home. Instead, she found herself speaking to another recording device.

Little did she know that Xander was sitting in the darkened room with a half-finished bottle of bourbon in his hand, listening to every word she said. It didn’t make much difference anyway as he was too far gone in his depression to make a move for the phone in any case. Besides, Tara hadn’t wanted him. No one ever wanted him any more. Then, he corrected himself. Anya wanted him. Even when he was stupid and tactless and useless Anya still wanted him, had been prepared to forgive him even for leaving her at the altar.

And still, he couldn’t… give when she had called him on his attitude to demons. Dawn had warned him less than a week before that if he didn’t change he could end up losing all of them, and now he wasn’t entirely sure if her prediction was already half true. The way things had gone this afternoon he didn’t know if Dawn and Buffy would give him a chance to explain. Then again, he had a feeling he might just have to fight his way past an overly possessive vampire before he even got to see them again. And since said vampire was in possession of the orbs of Nezzla Khan, even if he couldn’t hurt Xander, it wasn’t going to be like Xander could hurt him or do anything to make him move out of the way, or so the carpenter reasoned.

All he had left for sure were Anya and Willow. The funny thing was that, of the two, surely he should be more certain of keeping his wife than his friend. Nevertheless, the truth of the matter was, if he could alienate Dawn and her sister in just a few minutes, he could probably count himself lucky that so far he hadn’t managed to do the same with his highly volatile spouse.

When had it become so wrong to hate the demons? Riley had got it, except Riley was supposed to be one of the bad guys now, or was he? A week ago they had said, or rather Spike had said, he was. Then, last night if Xander hadn’t got totally lost, which he admitted to himself as he took another slurp of whiskey from the bottle was definitely not outside the realms of possibility he seemed to be back on the home team. Of course, the away team was his wife. And she had hurt Dawnie, hurt her bad in the sort of ways that took longer than any physical wounds to heal.

Xander knew all about being a victim. You couldn’t grow up in the Harris household and not know about it. For sixteen years, Jesse’s home had been his refuge when he just had to get away. Whenever trying to make his dad laugh so that he wouldn’t get pissed off and take it out on him or his mom got to be too much, Jesse’s bedroom window had always been unlocked. An inflatable mattress and a sleeping bag had always been tucked under his friend’s bed in case he needed them. Not that his dad had ever actually hit him. Sometimes Xander almost wished that he had. Some bruises that he could somehow have shown to someone, so that they would have to do something to get him out of that house, would have been a blessing. Instead, his father had used words to cut him and his mother down and to keep them there. His father was a failure whose only two pleasures in life were drink and making his wife and son acknowledge that they were even bigger failures than he was.

They all forgot about Jesse. All of them, even Willow, but Xander couldn’t forget. He sure as hell couldn’t forgive. Yet, Buffy seemed to think he should be okay about dealing first with Angel and then with Spike. Didn’t she get it? Wasn’t the fact that they were vampires bad enough, even if at first he’d been kind of forced to give soul boy the benefit of the doubt? The fact that they were direct descendants of the bitch that killed his best friend was just the extra icing on the cake.

And all those other demons? Okay, so far, he hadn’t actually caught Clem attacking anyone, or anything other than a bucket of southern-fried chicken, but the fact of the matter was he’d never met a demon that could hide it’s true nature for long. Sooner or later Buffy was going to discover that all these things she kept treating like animated teddy bears actually had some damn sharp teeth and claws.

Then again, Anya had asked him to the wedding. She said that some demons were productive members of society. And Buffy, Miss Demon Kill Kill herself, seemed to be going all "grey area" on him. Okay, so part of the reason that he’d been proud to help Buffy… Never mind that there was the whole knowing that whatever his dad told him, he helped keep Sunnydale safe part. That was the part that let him believe that he didn’t have to grow up to become his father.

‘Good one! Way to prove you’re not a useless drunk!’ he thought as he took another gulp from the bottle. The thing was there was another part of him where every vampire he helped stake, every demon he helped kill was a tribute to Jesse and to the others who would be spared his fate. It used to be simple. Demons bad. Slayer kill demons. Xander help slayer. Buffy happy. Xander happy. Hell, there had even been a point he’d considered it remotely possible that Buffy would give Xander a happy. Okay, Buffy had given Xander multiple happies, but there had been a time he’d considered the possibility of mutual happies.

Now, there was every chance he was married to a demon. His best friend was dating a demon and the demon hunters were the bad guys because somehow they had got their wires crossed and gone for Dawn, but Dawn was human, or he thought she was, and if she wasn’t would that make her evil?

This was all Spike’s fault, anyway. Whatever he said, that thing with the front door had just been designed to piss him off, and he could just have said that Buffy and Dawn were talking to the priest or minister or whatever. He’d deliberately goaded him into making a fool of himself so that he could look like the big hero defending his women. What Xander didn’t get was how come it was Dawn and Buffy with the priest and not Buffy and Fangless. Come on! The guy could be human and he would still hate his guts. Everybody said he had a thing against demons, and, yeah, they were probably right, but he would hate Spike anyway, just on principle. How the hell could Buffy let him put his cold dead hands on her, in her? How could she be excited by a walking corpse? Not that he was the first one.

Xander decided that he really needed to simple this all up.

Xander really didn’t like where this logic was taking him. He commiserated with himself by taking his longest slug from the bottle yet. If only Evil Undead hadn’t borrowed the orbs, from what Willow had said, Riley and his men would have had him bang to rights with those bows. Problem, or at least ninety percent of problem, solved. It was just his luck. He could have been the one doing the whole heroic rescue gig. He should have been the one doing the whole heroic rescue gig. It was only because Dead Man Walking had taken back his supposed present that it hadn’t been him doing the rescuing. And to think he’d chipped in to get the bloodsucker a microwave.

The outer door of the apartment was pushed open and Xander found himself suddenly blinking in the glare of the lights that Anya put on.

"Xander? What are you doing sitting on the floor?" She eyed the bottle in his hand. "Are you drunk?"

"Hi, Ahn. I’m thinking. I’m thinking that since I’m kinda drunk the floor’s not so far to fall, but you know what else I’m thinking?"

Anya’s mouth pursed together in irritation before she took her cue. "What else are you thinking, Xander?"

"I’m thinking that maybe I’ve already lost Buffy and Dawn, but I’m thinking that what’s real important is that you know how much I love you. You’re this incredible, beautiful, unpredictable, intelligent woman and I am so lucky that you forgave me for that whole wedding thing and if I have to spend the rest of my life making that up to you, I will, because you know something, without you the apartment, the job, none of it, is worth anything, and if I have to be civil to Spike and kiss Clem’s wrinkly butt to keep you, then I will. Just please don’t make me apologise to him. Oh and Tara wants you to ring her on her new cell phone that Buffy bought her when they were all in LaLa Land without us. Before Spike she’d have bought me one, too, but now-."

"Xander, you already have a cell and before Spike she couldn’t even have bought herself one."

"But she’d have wanted to buy me one."

"H-o-kay, Xander. Time for you to go to bed and not in a sexy way."

As she tried to lever Xander’s considerable weight off the floor, the carpenter whispered in her ear, "I love you, Mrs Anya Emanuella Jenkins Harris."

"And I love you, too, lambikins, but you really need to lose some weight." Giving up on moving the apparently immovable object she lowered him back to the floor and stoppering the bottle once more, she moved it out of his reach before pulling the duvet and a couple of pillows off their bed. Silently, she placed the cushions under his head and tucked the quilt around his recumbent form. It didn’t matter. She didn’t have to say anything. The way she felt about him, despite all his shortcomings was evident in every tender gesture, Even the fact that she fetched a bucket from under the sink and put it next to his head, just in case.

As soon as his eyes drifted shut, she called Tara back.

"Hi, Tara. It’s Anya. Xander said you needed to talk to me."

"Yeah. I need to know whether Willow was in The Magic Box today."

"Well, yes, but Xander could have told you that. He was there, too."

"Anya, did she buy anything?"

"Pffft!" Anya’s instantaneous reaction came out before she could even think about helping it. "You know whatever she gets she always says it’s to help Buffy and that Giles won’t mind. One of these days, Giles is actually going to read the paperwork that comes with his cheques and send her a hefty bill. Of course, it all comes out of his share. I suppose in theory he could claim it back from the watcher’s council, if he could prove it was a legitimate expense, which, of course, I’m sure most of it isn’t."

"Anya, did Willow get anything today? Any crystals? Any Lethe’s bramble?"

Anya gave another unladylike snort. "Like I’d ever sell Willow any more Lethe’s bramble!" The former demon then paused uncertainly. "She did take a quartz though, a really big one. And she knows that I’d know what she was up to if she wanted more of that, so maybe she would just take it. Who does she want to forget something?"

"My guess? All of us… What happened last night, she sent Sam an email, now I think she wants us all to forget all about it, because she feels like it’s her fault. She was supposed to meet me and she never showed. I sent her a text message. It was delivered. Ten minutes later when I tried to ring her she’d switched her phone off. I think she hopes if she can hide out until she completes the spell, then none of us will ever remember what happened."

"But, she can’t do that. Someone needs to remember so that they can get vengeance on Sam because otherwise she’ll get away with hurting Dawn."

"Well, I can’t say we’re working from the same motivation but we’re on the same side. The thing is, I’m on campus and I’ve got no components or anything. I cleared just about everything out of my dorm room and it would take me a while to get a bus back to town. Do you think maybe you could get a hold of Wes and see if he could do a locator spell for us while I check out some of the labs? She wouldn’t do it back at the house, and I don’t think she’d risk The Magic Box, but she’s used the labs before."

"What about the others? Giles and Buffy and Spike… Should I tell them, too."

"Giles?" Tara noted the watcher’s inclusion but decided other things were more important at this stage. She hesitated, her relationship on the line. "W-we could be wrong, but w-we can’t afford to risk it. Tell them. The more people we have looking for her, the more chance we have of finding her before…" The thing that worried her most however was if Willow had been acting on this for the last twenty minutes, then why hadn’t they already forgotten.

"Before she turns us all into mindless vegetables," Anya answered with typical bluntness.

* * * * *

"Ho-kay," thought Willow. "Nearly there." The spell was an incredibly complex one and timing was crucial. She wanted to erase back to before she sent the email, but only just before. The spell worked in terms of complete days, so she had to have everything ready and then wait until the correct time.

It would all have been so much simpler if Dawn and Brandon hadn’t been taken to the hospital. With Lethe’s bramble, she could probably have affected the memories of all the Scoobies, Riley’s men, Brandon and his dad, but the large numbers of hospital staff involved and the proliferation of both admin and medical records made it impractical. Of course, Sam would go free, but maybe Willow could track her down herself and somehow make sure she wasn’t able to do the same again.

She’d do whatever it took to stop Dawn from looking at her with hatred when she found out what had brought Sam back to the Hellmouth, to stop the teenager from being hurt and for Tara to look at her without showing her disappointment.

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