Chapter 4.04

Unknown to Spike, he almost exactly echoed Buffy’s own thoughts on the matter. "Don’t reckon as the watcher’s goin’ to be throwin’ us a party when he finds out about this."

"It’s not like we’ve got to rush to tell him," Buffy pointed out.

"Maybe not, but I think maybe we’re going to have to start keepin’ some sort of journal, so that if he needs to backtrack over any of this, we’ve got all the details and dates."

"Do they put something in the water in England or something? You sound positively watcherly."

"Bite your tongue, missy. The day I join the tweed brigade-."

"Was the day we called you Randy?"

"Very funny. If this water was any deeper that would have earned you a ducking, love."

Buffy gave a mischievous grin. "Who says the water’s not deep enough?" Scooting back to kneel at the foot of the bath, she bowed her head to where Spike’s erection just broke the water’s surface. Spike shivered with sensation as she blew gently on his damp skin. Her tongue flicked out to circle his head as a small but firm hand worked his shaft in long, slow, slick strokes. When she finally took him into her mouth Spike thought he was going to come, the combination of the water’s heat and watching Buffy duck her face in the water with every stroke almost enough to undo him.

He reached out to draw her head up, away from the water’s surface. Pulling her up his body until their lips met, he cradled her body against his as he plundered her mouth. Only when she pulled her head back, gasping for air, did they part. In that instant Spike rolled them both, water slopping messily over the side of the bath as he did so, before he claimed her lips again. He laid a trail of kisses down her neck and over her breastbone. His eyes watched her face, savouring her every reaction as his lips closed over each pert nipple in turn, suckling and teasing with the tip of his tongue. Buffy squirmed beneath him until finally he let his demon features come to the fore, using a fang to graze so gently over the taut pink flesh that a single tiny drop of blood formed for him to lick off as he changed back to his human features.

Then, with a wicked grin, the vampire whispered his intentions. "My turn," he told her as he shifted back and pushed her knees apart, hooking one of her legs over the side of the bath.

"Hey, we’re home." Willow called out a warning to the house’s occupants, half expecting to hear the sound of two pairs of feet heading for cover. The rhythmic thud of the washing machine in the basement was her only response.

"Come on in. It looks like they’ve popped out. They might be at Spike’s place. Em, we probably don’t have any milk, any more, or at least any we did have is probably more like yoghurt by now, but we can do black coffee, or we’ve got some of that cream in a can that you squirt."

"Black coffee’s fine. Maybe you can tell me where I should put my things, in the meantime." Wesley hovered in the hall, a large and heavy looking rucksack slung over one shoulder and a set of panniers slung over the other.

"Em. Just leave them in the hall. I think, chances are Spike’ll probably move in here for the duration and let you have his place, but it’s probably best if he thinks he came up with it all by himself, or Buffy did."

"And you’re not bothered about sharing a house with Spike?" the former watcher asked.

"After last night, a little. Okay, a big little, but Buffy trusts him and I trust Buffy, so…"

Tara called out from the kitchen. "There’s plenty of stuff here. Looks like Spike’s been doing the shopping again."

"And he does buy ice-cream and stuff."

"And that would be an irrefutable sign that he is now on the side of good?"

"Works for me," answered the redhead.

The slayer pulled off the helmet that Spike had insisted on buying her. The vampire did likewise with his only headgear, a pair of mirrored sunglasses.

"Eww." Buffy ran her fingers through her hair. "Sticky. It’s too hot to wear a helmet. And it’s too tight. It makes my hair go all flat. I need another shower, and you are such a hypocrite."

"Look, love, it’s supposed to be tight…ish, and short of my head coming off my shoulders, which a helmet wouldn’t do anything to prevent, nothing’s going to cause any permanent damage. You on the other hand have a perfectly adorable head that I would prefer remained intact."

"And what if you get pulled over. It’d be just great if you got yourself deported before your fake papers arrive."

"The cops in this town know better than to try to pull over anyone as can flash a bit of fang."

"That is so-."

The sound of someone clearing their throat made the two blondes look up to where Willow and Wesley were watching from the front porch with some incredulity.

"Bogus," Buffy finished as the witch and the former watcher watched the vampire casually stroll around to eye Wesley’s bike.

"Harley. Nice. Thank God it’s yours, mate. Thought it was Bit’s bloke’s for a second. Was about to have a bloody heart-attack, metaphorically speaking. Thought of the Bit ridin’ pillion behind some teenage hothead."

"Spike!?" The witch’s exclamation came out as half way between a question and an exclamation of exasperation.

"What, Red? Didn’t think either of you would need me to draw a diagram," retorted the vamp as he gazed up to gauge the angle of the sun, as if it was something he did every day. "Well, reckon as it’s time I made a start on the cookin’." Spike slung an expansive arm around the bemused former watcher’s shoulders. "So, is this just a flying visit or are you back in Sunnyhell for good?"

"I think that’s what I’m here to find out. I’m planning to stay here for a couple of weeks, maybe check out the property market. If things go well, I fly back, load up the car and hire a U-haul. If, however, sharing The Magic Box with Anya for a day makes my brain liquefy and start leaking out of my ears I may seek alternate employment… And I think Tara’s already making a start on the food. She said some of the recipes were book-marked, so she made a head start on the preparation."

"Shoulda known Glinda would pitch in. You got somewhere to stay while you’re here? ‘Cause if Buffy can put up with my ugly ass around here, you can stay at my place." Spike was already fiddling with his keyring as he looked back over his shoulder to where the redheaded Wiccan was looking to Buffy for an explanation for her sunbathing boyfriend.

"Orbs. Seems like invulnerable equals no sunburn, and since Xander’s going to be busy at work all day, it seemed a shame to let them go to waste. Spike’ll drop them off tonight, when he goes to see Clem, no big."

"Way big, Buffy, huge big," Willow replied.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Try telling that to Mr Stubborn Pants."

"Pet? Before we start that one again, is it okay if I stay here for now? That way Giles junior can have my place to himself?"

"Sure," Buffy answered.

"Mr Stubborn Pants?" Wesley queried.

"Ask her," Spike deflected. "She’s the one as made it up. I’ve just got to put up with it."

"And I think you’ll find that you’re Giles junior, as well," his fiancée pointed out.

Spike turned to face his accuser head on, relinquishing his grip on Wesley as he did so. "Balls to that. Nowhere on any of my papers does it say that my father’s name was Rupert, so you can forget that one straight off."

"So, just in case I’m ever asked, what does it say your parent’s names were?"

"Arthur and Nancy Anne, maiden name Lydon."

Wesley gave the vampire a curious glance as he accepted the keys to Spike’s flat. "I get Lydon and Nancy could be real or it could be Spungen, though shouldn’t it go with Sid’s name rather than Johnny’s? But Arthur and Anne sound like they might be real."

Spike shrugged. "Just liked Lydon. Got a ring to it and buggered if anybody could tell you what his wife’s called. And if the rest sounds real, it’s because they are. And that’s as much as you get, Watcher. If I wouldn’t tell the old bugger, what makes you think I’d tell someone I’ve barely met. ‘Sides you lot are all too fond of writin’ everythin’ in your little books for my likin’."

"Little books like you wanted to start writing?" Buffy asked archly.

Spike drew her a dirty look. "Pet, how about, since you’re not goin’ to be busy in the kitchen like some of us, you take Wes here across to the flat to drop his stuff off and pick me up some changes of clothes? Take the scenic route and get him reacquainted with some of the sights and sounds of Sunnyhell. We’ll have plenty to keep us busy here for a while, I reckon."

As the door swung closed behind Spike and Willow, Buffy looked across at Wes. "Why do I feel like we’ve just been got rid of?"

"Maybe because all my things are still on the other side of the door that just got shut in our faces?"

A second later the door opened again and Spike cheerfully deposited Wes’s things on the doorstep and pulled Buffy into his arms for a kiss. "See you in an hour or so, pet. You could take Wes to that pub we went to on Friday, reckon he’d like it."

Buffy stood on tiptoe to give him a peck on the cheek, whispering in his ear at the same time. "I got the message the first time."

"Good. And take your helmet. Can’t be too careful."

Buffy waited for Wesley to kick-start the hog, before she scrambled on behind him. As they rode away, Buffy couldn’t help thinking that the vampire was up to something and it wasn’t just cooking, or giving her and Wes an excuse to get out of range of any listening devices.

And sure enough, before the sound of the Harley’s engine had even faded into the distance, Spike had inducted the witches into his little conspiracy. By the time Buffy and Wes reached Spike’s apartment, on the other side of what was, after all, a one Starbuck’s town, the vampire was already replacing the handset after phoning Anya at the Magic Box. By the time Wes and Buffy were drinking coffee at a remote roadhouse, Spike had all his plans set firmly in motion and had settled in to see how he could help Tara in the sun-filled kitchen.

"Well, I guess that covers everything, except one question."

"And what’s that?"

"Mr Stubborn Pants?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "A certain person who shall remain nameless, refuses to even contemplate the prospect of asking Xander and Anya If they’d mind an exchange on the wedding gifts front."

She put on an extremely poor copy of Spike’s drawl. "’Cause those things are meant to save Demon Bint from worryin’ ‘bout Harris getting’ bashed to bits and I’ll not have anyone sayin’ I’m some damn Indian giver. Gave them to the boy, and they’re his now, end of story." Giving a sigh, she let the accent lapse. "And then we got off on this whole new argument about how there isn’t a PC term that means the same as Indian giver and how Spike wouldn’t use it even if there was and where the term derived from and whether it was Native American Indian or Indian from India.

If he had something he calls a good reason, he might borrow them, but he refuses to ask for them back." She shrugged. "Like I say, Mr Stubborn Pants."

"I must say it seems to rather contradict all the effort he went to, looking for the Gem of Amara and then trying to wrest it from Angel."

"But he didn’t give that to Angel, so if he could take it from him it was fair game. At least, that seems to be the way Spike logic works.

So, question for you. Weren’t you supposed to be going through the junk at the junk shop?"

Wes shrugged. "Well, I had a skim through this morning before we left and confiscated some of the more obvious items, but when I spoke to Rupert on the phone, he intimated we might be able to reach some sort of financial arrangement regarding any items that he could use for stock. He thought if I spent a couple of days with Anya in the shop, I then might be able to cover for her while she retrieves any items she wants for inventory."

"Can I give you some advice? Settle the money side with Giles. If Anya gets involved you’re guaranteed to get a… tougher deal." Buffy hesitated trying to find a diplomatic way to describe Anya’s business acumen before she changed topics.

"Look, there’s something else. I think Spike was hinting at me to tell you. Of course, if I’m wrong… but never mind. I would talk to Giles about it, but we really don’t have a way to speak to him that can’t be eavesdropped on …upon? Whatever? Anyway… What it is, is that ever since we made the claim mutual, we’ve been sharing dreams.

Friday night, Saturday morning we both dreamt about mom. Yesterday, when we got Spike back and we caught some sleep at the hotel, it was my buried alive dream, but he was buried underneath me? Sort of separate coffin, same plot, you know? Only he figured it was something to do with Dru, that if Fred hadn’t woken us he would have got to where she was waiting for him as he clawed his way out. So, he didn’t say anything, and I didn’t say anything because like since... I mean he says he used to get the coffin dreams, too, when he was first turned, but it had been years since he’d had one, but with Dru being like five minutes dead he just chalked it up to stress and maybe because I’d mentioned I’d been having them, like it put the idea in his head.

Then, this morning we both had this dream, like he was showing me round New York, showing me places he used to go and stuff. And, Wes, he told me things I didn’t know. I’ve never been to New York, right? And we’re not talking tourist sights, unless you count Central Park in the middle of the night, which I kind of gather isn’t somewhere most tourists would want to be, but the places he took me in the dream, they’re real. Spike can’t vouch for how many of them are likely to still be standing, but they were how he remembers them."

"And while he was held prisoner?"

"Same old recurring yada, yada, yada, no Spike. But every time since the claim that we’ve fallen asleep in the same room… same dreams."

"And you say, there were things he told you in the dream that you had no way to know? What about when you dreamed about your mother? Was there anything to suggest the dream originated in your memories rather than his? For example, what was she wearing? Was it a real outfit? Could Spike have seen her wearing it?"

"Wes, it was a dream and it was…" Buffy counted off the days on her fingers. "Three and a half very long days ago. I couldn’t really remember what I dreamed about until we sat down to work it out and Spike said he remembered he dreamed about mom ‘cause he woke up in a good mood. But even he doesn’t remember any details, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Spike knew mom better than I did.

He loved her, you know. And he’s so intuitive with people. He picks up on the least little thing. I mean, sometimes when he was down, he’d bring out the mothering instinct, but sometimes I’d come in from school and he’d be sitting round the kitchen with her and Dawn and the three of them would be laughing their heads off, and I’d feel like I was the outsider. I guess what I’m getting at is that him and mom could talk like equals, so he got to see all of her, while I got Joyce the mom."

"I didn’t realise Spike had known your mother so well. I thought your relationship was a recent thing?"

"Our relationship’s been around a long time, it’s just done a one eighty degree shift over the years, but he’d been mooching cocoa from my mom for years before he was even chipped. I just wish…"

Buffy shook her head. It was no good wishing that her mom could be here or that Spike could have had some sort of reconciliation with her before she died.

She drained what was left of her coffee before picking up her helmet and wrapping herself in the folds of her thick leather coat.

"Come on, our hour is up."

Dinner was ready. All that everyone was waiting for was the arrival of Dawn and the guest of honour. Tension was thick in the air as the group waited expectantly. Wes’s gaze flicked to watch the vampire’s face as they heard the sound of an engine approaching the house and then being cut off. The former watcher saw the gold flecks that flashed in the vampire’s eye before he stormed off to the kitchen. Buffy exchanged puzzled glances with Tara and Willow, before she pushed her concern over the vampire’s unpredictable actions to one side, to go and greet their guest. Wes never got the chance to explain that the distinctive sound of a two-stroke engine was enough to tell both the men in the room that the vampire’s nightmare scenario from this afternoon was coming true.

It was her sister shaking her head and fluffing her hair as she passed her helmet back to her date, that told Buffy the good news. Buffy scanned her sister’s clothing, taking in the lack of padding on knees and elbows. Her mouth thinned in a disapproving line before she could cover up with what was now a patently false smile of greeting.

"Dawn, Brandon, why don’t you come in? We’re all ready to start as soon as you’re settled in…"

Chapter 4.05

"Dawn, why don’t you hang up your jackets and show Brandon through to the dining room? I’ll send the others through from the living room and see what Spike’s up to in the kitchen." Buffy ushered her sister and her date into the house before going in search of her fiancé.

On entering the kitchen, Buffy eyed the messily dismembered chicken carcass and the meat cleaver embedded half an inch deep into her mom’s old wooden chopping board on the kitchen island. The back door was ajar and Buffy wasn’t remotely surprised to find the vampire pacing the back porch with a lit cigarette in one hand and the bottle of wine, which had been supposed to go with the meal, half empty, in the other.

"I thought you were going to baste that chicken with garlic butter and roast it whole for dinner tomorrow."

"Well, I guess now we’re having casserole." Spike’s reply was half way to being shouted and was positively doused in sarcasm.

"Unless you know any recipes for minced chicken, in which case I can have a go, too."

Spike ran out of porch and turned. Somehow, his anger receded at just the sight of this tiny woman.

"So?" Buffy asked softly. "What do we tell her?"

"I don’t know." Spike ran his cigarette hand through his hair, too preoccupied to even realise what he was doing. "I thought I didn’t get a say in the matter."

"I’m asking your advice. How do I tell her I don’t want her on that thing when she knows I’ve been on yours? Especially if they see you drinking. And if they realise you don’t even own a helmet…"

"Do you think I’d be taking my frustration out on dead birds if I knew the answer to that one? Way I see it, about the best we’re going to get away with is making sure she’s got the proper protective gear and making sure he knows I’ll tear him limb from limb if she gets hurt because he’s being reckless in any way."

Buffy belatedly realised that this time Spike had decided not to turn when he reached the front edge of the porch. He made his way around the side of the house and Buffy set off in pursuit.

"Where are you going?" she asked as she jogged slightly to catch up.

"Goin’ to check the tyres ‘n’ stuff on that bike. If anything on that bike isn’t road worthy, I’m not goin’ to wait to string him up."

Buffy watched in horror as Spike flicked away his half finished cigarette and produced a pocket knife as he drew level with Brandon’s bike. He sat the wine bottle down on the path next to the bike and opened up the blade.

"Spike!" she hissed, suddenly afraid of attracting attention from the dining room. "You can’t just trash his bike!" She ignored her own inner voice adding, ‘not even if I really want to.’

The demon twisted his neck back to look at her, eyebrow raised and one corner of his mouth turning down just slightly. It was his patented, ‘What do you take me for?’ look.

"Relax, pet. I’m just going to check the tread on his tyres."

"With a knife?"

"Since I don’t happen to have anything else that’ll fit between the treads on me, yeah, with a knife."

"Is that wi-." Buffy redirected her own half-asked question to herself as she realised that she was provoking a volatile master vampire who was already out of sorts and holding a knife. "Okay, shutting up now." She twisted the fingers of one hand in front of her mouth in a locking motion.

Buffy watched as the vampire, poked around at the tyres and sniffed around the bike. She panicked slightly when he took it off its stand and started bouncing slightly on the seat, but when he merely grunted and stuck the bike back on its stand, she figured Brandon was off the hook for now.

"So?"

"Tyres could do with replacing in the not too distant, but if it was me, I’d probably push them for another couple of hundred miles. No oil leaks or anything. Brake blocks aren’t worn. He’s adjusted the suspension for carryin’ two, but hasn’t bothered puttin’ extra air in the tyres. For goin’ to the mall and back, I’ll let him off. If he was ever planning on taking her on a proper run I’d check he’d pumped them up a bit."

"So all in all it’s not a death-trap."

"The bike’s in good nick. Whether it’s a death-trap depends on how he handles it, doesn’t it? And you’d best give Bit one of those spare cells and make sure she keeps it on her and charged. Thing doesn’t have a fuel gauge."

Buffy gave him a puzzled look. "So how do you know you’re running out of gas?"

"When the tank gets near to bein’ empty the main fuel intake won’t draw from the bottom inch of the tank. You have to flick that little valve there to reserve and that lets you use up the last bit. Now, here’s the rub. Say when you fill it up, you forget to switch the valve back, then next time…"

"When it runs out, you really don’t have any gas left and this being the Hellmouth that could be bad even without the teenage boy in the scenario."

"Bingo. Give the girl a cupie doll."

"This would be so much easier if I could just tell her no."

Spike lit another cigarette and picked up the wine bottle in his other hand before sliding that arm around Buffy’s waist and starting to amble back toward the porch. "Wouldn’t do any good, love. What happened when your mum put her foot down with you?"

Buffy sighed. "I mostly did what I wanted anyway. Just did it behind her back… or ran off to LA… but I was doing the slayer stuff, not hanging out with boys on motorbikes."

"Sure. You never went out with His Nibs without telling her. Bitty’s made from you. What makes you think she’d do any different?"

"Buffy? Spike?" Tara’s voice sounded through the darkness.

"We’re here, pet. What’s up?" Spike answered as the couple stepped up onto the porch.

"Em, everybody’s getting kind of restless through there. I think you might want to make an appearance soon."

"I’d better go," Buffy told her fiancé. "Is everything ready?"

"Pretty much. I’ll start bringing it through."

Buffy stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek before dashing off into the house.

Spike bit his tongue every time he wanted to ask a question that made him sound like Hank. Maybe it was because he’d been on the other side of the interrogation such a short time before, or maybe it was the puppy dog eyes that Bit kept giving him. Either way the kid had got off remarkably lightly, so far. Now, however the meal was at an end.

"Well, I guess it’s just about time I can slope off outside for a fag without lookin’ too antisocial.

Buffy says you’ve got a bike, Brandon. Why don’t you come with me? That way we can save the ladies from having to listen to us talkin’ ‘bout all that borin’ stuff. Wes?"

"I think I’ll give it a miss this time. I feel like I should lend a hand with the clear up," Wes responded discreetly.

"Fair dos." Spike already had an unlit cigarette in his mouth and his Zippo to hand. He strode to the front door making it obvious he expected the teenager to follow.

Spike lit up his cigarette, the lighter flame enough to ruin the kid’s nightvision just as he’d been beginning to be able to make out the older man’s features.

"Right, kid. The way I figure it, you’ve already been threatened with physical violence at least twice if you don’t treat that girl right. So, I’m goin’ to just skip over that part.

What I am going to do is make it very clear that any time you take her on that bike with you, you are taking responsibility for her safety. So, if she isn’t wearing adequate clothing, it’s your responsibility to tell her and to make sure she does. Buffy and I will see that she has the kit she needs. You see she doesn’t get on that bike without at least the proper jacket and her own helmet and if you’re going any distance I expect you to make sure she’s wearing full leathers.

Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, sir. Though I think maybe you need to practise what you preach."

"An’ what the hell’s that meant to mean?" The teenager got his first glimpse of the vampire’s volatile temper, but to his credit he didn’t back down.

"It means, sir, if you don’t want Dawn hurt then you should work a bit harder so she doesn’t feel like an outsider in her own home."

"Balls! Niblet knows I’d do anything for her."

"Anything except keeping your hands off her sister long enough to have a conversation with her."

"Jesus Christ. What the hell has she been saying?" Spike turned and stalked back to the house, slamming the door back on its hinges. As he’d more than half expected Buffy and Dawn were having their own tete a tete, while Wes and the witches kept out of the way in the kitchen.

"Dawn, you had best say goodbye to Brandon now because he’s leaving, and when he’s gone me and your sis are going to be waiting for you in her room. It seems we need to talk." Dawn made a dash for the front door as the vampire began to stomp upstairs in an obviously foul mood. "And tell ‘im those tyres damn near need replacin’ an’ all," the vampire called after her.

Chapter 4.06

"What the hell did you say to him?" Dawn hissed at her date. "I haven’t seen him this pissed since I gave him the slip in the middle of a riot."

"Nothing that didn’t need saying."

There was a loud crash from somewhere upstairs in the house. Dawn flinched at the sound. "Okay, I’ve never seen him this pissed."

"Look. Maybe you shouldn’t go in there. I mean he seems pretty violent. It might be better if you came home with me and give him some time to cool off," Brandon offered.

"Not a good idea. Spike’s all mouth. The only thing that’s in any danger is the furniture. It’s best to let him-."

Dawn was cut off by the slam of Buffy’s window opening at speed, shortly followed by the bellow of an irate vampire. "Goodbye is two syllables, Dawn. Just say it and get your skinny arse up here now. Don’t make me come back down to get you."

"Shit. Look, I’ll call later if I get a chance, or I’ll see you at school tomorrow." Dawn gave the kid a quick peck on the cheek before running up the path. She turned at the steps to see that he hadn’t moved. She made a shooing gesture with her hands and mouthed the word, "go," before darting through the door and up the stairs.

Dawn picked her way over shards of brightly coloured pottery to get into her sister’s room. Before she’d even cleared the debris Spike was in her face.

"What the hell am I to you, Dawn?" he yelled.

The teenager wiped a stray trace of spittle from her chin. "What?"

"That’s what I’m asking you? What do you think I am? Am I meant to be some male version of Marlene the man-eater? Am I just some git who’s walked in an’ taken your sister away, ‘cause I’d really like to know. Huh?"

"Spike, I nev-," Dawn stuttered.

"Name one proper date that me and your sister have had, where you haven’t been included."

Dawn fishmouthed, gasping for breath as the tears started to flow.

"No? Well, tell me who the stupid git is who’ll clear his whole day just so he can help you with your soddin’ homework. Still too hard for you? Okay, lets go for the real easy question. Tell me the two people in this world who you know unequivocally would die before they would let anything happen to you?"

"Y-you and Buffy," Dawn hiccuped through her tears.

"Then where the hell do you get off telling some wanker you’ve only known for five minutes that we make you feel like an outsider in your own house? Making us out to be some sort of bleedin’ nymphomaniacs. Except when you’ve caught us off guard, have we ever done anything to embarrass you in any way? For Christ’s sake we spent tonight at opposite ends of the bloody table. And when your mate was over watchin’ all the videos, we were sort of cuddled up together on the floor but that was it. When we’ve been at the Bronze we’ve been so bloody circumspect it made my bloody teeth ache and this is what you think? But you want to know where you really twisted the knife in? When you didn’t come to us.

Just get out, Bit."

Dawn stumbled from the room, her sobs now clearly audible. Buffy looked back and forth between the open doorway and the vampire, who stood with his back to her facing the window. It only took her a second to decide. Reaching out a hand to take his, however briefly. "You know I’ve got to go to her?"

"I know."

"I’ll be as quick as I can."

She thought he gave the barest of nods, but she couldn’t be sure. Either way she had to go do what she could in the way of damage control.

Spike eschewed the door in favour of the window. Even in his Doc Marten’s he moved so quietly that when he jumped from the porch roof to land next to Brandon the boy jumped about a foot.

"I thought I heard Bit tell you to go home."

"She did, but I’m not going anywhere until I know she’s alright."

"I say you are. You don’t have any part in this. This is family business. My family, not yours, not yet and at the rate you’re going, not ever. Now get on that bike and go home and before I see Dawn on it again, I expect you to have replaced those tyres."

Finally, Brandon seemed to get the message that this was one battle he couldn’t win. "Okay. I’m going, but if there’s one mark on Dawn tomorrow, I’ll be calling Social Services."

Spike gave a snort of laughter as the boy climbed on his bike. "You picked the wrong night, son. Come tomorrow, Dawn will be so stiff she can barely walk. She’ll probably want a cushion before she’ll even sit down. The last thing she’s going to be thinking of is going anywhere near the back of a motorbike, but no one will be responsible for a single mark on her except herself and if you ever dare to suggest otherwise, then you will see me angry.

Now go."

The vampire stepped back onto the porch, lighting up a cigarette as he watched the boy leave. Spike hated to say it, but the kid had balls and he was willing to stand up for Bit against a pissed off vampire. Against all his better instincts, Spike actually quite liked him. Once the taillights had disappeared into the distance Spike made his way round to the back porch and took a seat on the steps. Buffy would know where to find him.

"I didn’t mean it the way he made it sound," Dawn snivelled. "I love you guys, and I love that you’re together. It’s just hard adjusting."

"Dawn, I get that it’s not easy for you, but you understand why he was so mad, don’t you?"

"I didn’t mean to hurt him."

"It’s not me you need to tell," Buffy gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I can’t talk to him when he’s mad like that."

"He’s not. Not any more," Buffy told her.

"How can you know that?"

"Because I could feel it and I don’t any more."

"See, that’s what I meant when I said you two made me feel like an outsider. You’re so… connected. How can I be a part of that?" Dawn asked.

"You are a part of it. However much Spike and I feel for each other, we both love you. If I’m… Look, get Spike to explain. He’s the one who’s good with words. But part of what I love about him is that he loves you. And it wouldn’t matter what there was between me and Spike, if I thought it was better for you for us to be apart, then that’s how it would be.

Between the two of us, we own that man, heart and mind, and it’s probably a closer call than you think as to who has the bigger share. You’re the closest thing to a daughter he’s ever likely to have, and he couldn’t love you any more if you were his own flesh and blood. And, hey, you are my flesh and blood so what does that say?

He’s out back. Go talk to him."

"More freaky couple stuff?"

"Nah. Just straightforward slayer sense. Least I hope he’s the only vamp hanging around our back porch."

Chapter 4.07

Dawn stood in the kitchen doorway, watching Spike for some time before she got up the nerve to speak. His gaze seemed to be focussed on the bushes and trees around the garden’s perimeter, but Dawn couldn’t see anything beyond the circle of the porch light. A plume of smoke rose from the cigarette that burned down between his fingers. He had to know she was there, but he gave no sign, and she knew it was up to her to make the first move.

"Spike?"

"What, Bit?" The vampire’s tone was more resigned and downbeat than she’d expected and held a lot less bite.

"Buffy said you weren’t ticked any more. Guess she was right."

Spike raised his cigarette to his mouth for the first time in an age, drawing deeply and then exhaling before he replied. "Guess so."

Spike was surprised when Dawn sat down, not beside him, but so that one long leg was on either side of his. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she pressed into his back. Surprised or not, he couldn’t help but place his free hand over hers. That gesture gave her the courage to take the next step.

"You and Buffy… since you got together, it’s kinda like watching a pair of fireflies. You can be with either one of you and you’re fine, you’re happy even, but as soon as the other one walks in the room, you just light on up. And it’s beautiful and I’m happy for you, but it’s something that belongs to just you two. That’s all I meant about being on the outside. This house has been more like home with you around than it’s ever been all last year."

"Might want to tell your young man that, when he gets over his shy phase and comes out the bushes."

Dawn giggled against his back. "You’re joking."

Spike made the obligatory gestures. "Cross my heart and hope to die. He’s on ‘is hands and knees in the mud by the bush two to the left of my tree, checking to make sure I’m not givin’ you a whuppin’. Threatened to report me to Social Services if you turned up tomorrow with a single mark on you, he did."

"And what did you say to that?"

"Nothing much. Told him that it’d be a miracle if you could sit down tomorrow without a cushion, but if he dared suggest that any of it was anything but self-inflicted then he really would see me pissed off."

"Hey, I’m not that bad."

"Bit, you have problems enough staying upright on dry land."

"Can’t I ask him? Even Wes is going. I just heard him and Willow talking about it in the kitchen."

"Can’t do it, love. We can’t take chances with someone we don’t know. Not when Clem and his lot have got to live with the consequences. ‘M sorry, pet. Maybe next time."

"What about now? Can he stay?"

"Just till Xander picks you up, an’ only if you make sure he doesn’t see us leave."

"Y’ know if you want some alone time with Buffy before everybody else shows up, you best go get her."

"I know, Niblet, I know," The vampire flicked his cigarette butt across the yard. Dawn suspected he aimed for the spot where he said Brandon was trying to hide but fell a couple of feet short. He stood and turned to place a kiss on the top of Dawn’s head before he jumped over her leg and up the steps, ruffling her hair as he went.

"Phhh. Now I know why I never wanted a big brother," she called after him, once she’d blown or otherwise shifted most of her hair out of her face again.

When Spike found Buffy she was just tipping the last of the pieces of her Scooby Doo statuette into her waste paper bin.

"Leave that," he told her.

"I was just going to put the bits in the outside bin, and then I’d be done anyway."

"’S my mess. You shouldn’t have to clear it up. And besides you’ve got better things to do." He took the bin from her hands and looked her over from head to toe with an appraising eye. "You’ll freeze your bits off dressed like that, love. Tell you what. I’ll take this out while you get changed." He strolled over to the wardrobe and pulled out the box with the skates in. "See what you can find that’ll go with these. I like my women all laced up in leather."

"I bet you do. Time to settle that IOU?" she asked.

"Always pay my debts, pet." He flashed her a grin. "Five minutes out front or I come back in and carry you off over my shoulder in whatever you’re wearing at the time."

"You can’t seriously expect a woman to get ready for a date in five minutes."

"What’s to do? You already look gorgeous. All you need’s a couple of extra layers."

"Shows what you know. Watch what you’re doing when you put that lot out. Make sure you don’t cut yourself."

Spike gave her a slightly quizzical glance. "I’ll see what I can do." Finally, he turned to leave taking the bin with him. "Four minutes," he shouted as he heard the door pushed closed behind him.

Spike wasn’t in the least surprised to find a slightly bedraggled Brandon sitting next to Dawn on the back porch. When he opened the kitchen door, the pair jumped apart as if they were spring loaded. Brandon scrambled to his feet.

"Yeah, right, Bit. Like that’d fool anyone. An’ sit down for Christ sake. Told Bitty there you could stay till Harris came to pick her up. An’ I doubt you’re goin’ to be getting’ up to anythin’ I’d have to kill you for, in full view of the neighbours." ‘I would and Buffy did’ he thought, ‘but Bit wouldn’t.’

"No, sir."

"And lay off with the ‘sir’ crap. Do I look like I served in the First World War or something?"

"No, s-. No."

"It’s Spike."

"Thought you were leaving," Dawn hinted none too subtly.

"I will be once I dispose of the remains of your sister’s tacky statuary."

"That thing Riley gave her?"

"That’s the one."

"Congratulations. She’s been trying to "accidentally" break that since he gave her it."

"That was kinda why I picked it."

Spike made his way round to the shadows that hid the outside bin and sifted through the broken pieces of pottery as he tipped them into the bin, not really surprised when he spotted tiny fragments of circuit board and wires amongst the broken pieces. ‘Nothing we didn’t already know,’ he tried to tell himself, but even so, he couldn’t help feeling sorry for Buffy, knowing that her ex had been spying on her, even back when they were together.

As he walked past the two teenagers on the back step Dawn called out in mock irritation. "Heyyy"

"What, Bit?"

"I don’t get a kiss this time?"

The vampire turned back and gave her a knowing smirk. "I thought that was what he was here for."

Dawn flushed red to the roots of her hair. "That’s not the same, beast." She smacked at his leg with her hand, but Spike pulled it up out the way even quicker, leaving her flailing at fresh air. His hand reached out and messed her hair up again and then he was gone, ducking back into the kitchen before she could take her revenge.

"He is so dead," Dawn told her date, completely missing the irony in what she had said, at least for the moment.

"Well," Brandon replied as he lent a gentle hand in the task of re-arranging Dawn’s hair. "Personally, I quite like his idea." His hand cradled Dawn’s jaw as he leant in to brush her lips with his own.

When she finally pulled back, Dawn nervously licked her lips, trying to douse the unfamiliar tingling sensation. "Definitely not the same."

Pale green eyes sparkled with laughter as they moved closer once more. "Glad to hear it."

Spike didn’t stick to his five-minute deadline. Instead, he waited until he could hear Buffy doing her last-minute checklist. "Skates… keys… helmet…"

Pushing the room door open, he found her dressed in a whole new outfit. Black cotton leggings moulded themselves to her lower half, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her lilac cashmere sweater clung to her upper body in a similar fashion. Spike was guiltily reminded of having Harmony dress up in Buffy’s clothes before he put his earlier threat into action.

Buffy hammered against his back with her fists, but her efforts were somewhat hampered by the giggles that she couldn’t keep in.

"Put me down, you Neanderthal."

"Nothing doing, pet." Spike swiped the bag he suspected held Buffy’s new skates and picked up the helmet that lay next to it.

"You’re a lunatic. You know that."

"Wouldn’t be the first time it’s been said. Of course, I killed everybody else as said it." With Buffy still beating on his back all the way, he carried her down the stairs and into the living room where Willow and Tara were curled up together on the sofa and Wes lounged on the floor. In the corner of the room a historical drama was playing on the TV. "We’ll see you guys later." He turned around so that Buffy could see the people in the room if she raised her head enough. "Say goodbye to the nice people."

"Wes, would you be so kind as to pass me a stake from that chest you’re leaning on?"

The watcher smiled, a grin quite nearly as wicked as the vampire’s own. "Where would be the fun in that?"

Spike made his way to the front door, pulling it open with some difficulty. All the while Buffy muttered about the other Englishman’s bad timing regarding the loss of his fuddy-duddy gene. After what seemed like an aeon hanging upside down, Spike deposited Buffy next to the two remaining motorbikes, Brandon’s presumably being abandoned somewhere out of sight but within walking distance.

Buffy beat her fists against the rock solid wall of Spike’s chest before her fingers fell to fondling the sapphire silk of another of his new shirts instead. "You are a pig."

"And you’re adorably flushed and ever so kissable."

When their lips met it was like an electric current arced between them. Buffy’s fingers curled into the lapels of his coat pulling him down to her until she drew away gasping for breath.

"Are you feeling naughty, slayer?"

Buffy couldn’t keep the suspicion out of her voice. "Why?"

The vampire dangled a set of shiny keys from his hand, attached to a gleaming key ring with the Harley Davidson logo. "Look what I found on the hall table."

For three whole seconds the slayer hesitated, her teeth pressing ever so slightly into her lower lip as she deliberated. "Well, he did refuse to give me a stake… and it would teach him not to leave things lying around." The vampire ducked quickly back to close the front door and grab Buffy's coat, depositing his own bike keys on the table at the same time.

About a minute later, the roar of the Harley’s engine had Wes rushing to pull the curtains aside to peer out into the darkness and confirm his suspicions. He eyed Spike’s considerably older, less shiny and less powerful motorcycle with disdain.

"You know, I think he’s a bad influence on her," the former watcher remarked.

"You think?" Tara asked as she came to stand next to him. "I think it suits her."

Around the side of the house, Dawn kept Brandon way too preoccupied to notice the vampire wasn’t wearing a helmet.

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