Summary: Sequel to Hoping's Very Fears. Spike and Buffy are trying to decide what their relationship is going to look like. Buffy and Dawn are missing Joyce terribly. And the warlock comes back to town, looking for another pound of flesh.
Author's Notes: This story is the sequel to "Hoping's Very Fears." If you haven't read that one, I'd strongly recommend you do so. Otherwise, it probably won't make any sense. Set in the summer right after BtVS S5. (My Season 5 that is.)
Rating: PG-13
Spike woke the following morning in unfamiliar surroundings to a delicious sense of warmth. His eyes blinked open slowly, and it was with some wonder that he realized he had an armful of Slayer. He pushed himself up slowly, quietly disentangling his limbs from hers.
Buffy stirred slightly and moaned as he pulled away, and Spike froze, waiting for her to settle back down into sleep, which she soon did. Noiseless as a cat, he padded barefoot across the carpet, slipping out of the room as silently as he had entered the night before.
"Spike?" Dawn's incredulous voice met him as he stood in the hallway, running a hand through sleep-mussed hair. "What are you doing here?"
She stood in her pajamas, obviously thrown off by his presence. "I, uh—" Spike sighed. "Hung around last night an' heard the Slayer. Decided to try an' talk to her again."
"Buffy asked you to stay?" Dawn asked, a smile lighting up her face. "Really?"
"Yeah, well, she's been goin' through a rough time, same as you." Spike threw a cautious glance towards Buffy's closed door, and then jerked his head towards the stairs.
Dawn, taking his hint, asked quietly, "So are you two together now?"
Spike shook his head. He wasn't sure that anything had been decided, other than Buffy was feeling the need to protect herself through isolation. The vampire had the distinct feeling that she would probably try it again. Next time, however, he thought he might try more aggressive techniques. Like tying her up and spiriting her away; always a popular solution. Just knowing that he made her happy gave him hope. It was the crumb that he'd needed to continue sticking around for her.
"Dunno." Spike shrugged, and to Dawn's amazement, began to get the coffee ready. "Doesn't matter, though. We still have our bargain, yeah? An' I'll be makin' a regular nuisance of myself from now on." He grinned at her, his blue eyes full of mischief. "Your sis'll have to stake me to get rid of me from here on out."
Dawn couldn't help but smile back, and the expression felt odd on her face, like it didn't quite belong there anymore. Seeing some of that in the girl's eyes, Spike reached across the kitchen island to chuck her under the chin, a silent reminder to keep it up. "I'm glad you're here, Spike."
Spike's expression gentled and became a little more somber. "Anytime, Sweet Bit."
~~~~~
Buffy woke to the scent of coffee right under her nose. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes, slowly realizing that she'd just slept better than she had in the last three weeks. When she finally managed to focus, she found Spike sitting relaxed on the edge of her bed with a steaming mug in his hand. "Morning."
"G'morning," she replied sleepily, pushing herself up and taking the mug from him. She took a sip, and sighed in contentment. "I'm an idiot."
"Alright," Spike agreed amiably, his expression growing even more smug at Buffy's glare. "What?"
"You weren't supposed to agree with me," Buffy protested. "You were supposed to tell me that I'm not an idiot."
Spike shrugged, his eyes dancing. "Thought I wasn't s'posed to argue with you. You're always right."
Buffy opened her mouth to argue that no, she wasn't always right, until she realized that it wasn't what she wanted to say. He had neatly twisted her words and actions around to put her in between a rock and a hard place, and she had to smile. If she argued with him, she would never again be able to claim that she was never wrong. On the other hand, she wasn't sure she wanted him to agree with her all the time either.
Seeing her smile, Spike took pity on her. "An' why are you callin' yourself an idiot, luv?"
"I spent the last three weeks being miserable, when I could have been waking up to room service," Buffy finally replied.
Spike grinned. "Figured that out now, have you?"
She rolled her eyes. "Look, Spike, I already admitted that I was—" Buffy cleared her throat. "—mistaken, but—"
He silenced her with a kiss. "Buffy. Shut up."
Surprisingly enough, she actually complied.
~~~~~
The warlock frowned with some alarm. He had made specific plans to ensure that that meddling vampire would be miserable for the rest of his unlife. He'd half-hoped the little bastard would dry up on that wall, or, if at all possible, that he'd kill himself as soon as someone pulled him down. Even better, that he'd go insane.
But no. The Slayer and her friends had to rescue him, and even befriend him. Lyndon should have known that he couldn't trust this particular Slayer to do her job properly. He had, of course, heard of her history with the traitorous Angel. It was the curse on Angelus that had given him the idea for the carvings on his grand-Childe's chest. The idea had been to create perpetual angst; what he hadn't counted on was the vampire's naturally sunny nature.
The creature was terribly optimistic, and while there had been satisfactory pain and anguish for a while, it was never enough. And now—
Now he was happy. He was actually happy. Even with the dreams, the memories, all it took was for that girl to smile at him, and his unlife was good. Or, at least it was good enough so that he could ignore the torment that the soul was supposed to be.
Lyndon sighed. He should have just killed Spike when he'd had the chance. He'd left the vampire on the wall with the understanding that he would be dust as soon as someone removed him. He'd wanted to be creative, however, and now he would have to remedy the situation.
It didn't matter. If the Slayer was what made him happy, he would just have to get rid of the Slayer. Killing her, ending her infatuation with the vampire, either one would work. And when it was all done, when he'd caused Spike as much pain and torment as he possibly could, Lyndon would rip his heart right out of his chest and watch him crumble.
He smiled. He was going to have so much fun in Sunnydale.
~~~~~
Buffy came downstairs, adjusting her pony tail. It was just easier to wear her hair back while waiting tables, rather than have it in her face all day. Both Dawn and Spike looked up at her as she came into the living room. "Okay, I have to get to work. I'll be home by six. Spike, you can stay here today if you don't want to chance the daylight. But if you don't stay, I really wouldn't mind if you came on patrol with me. I could use the back-up."
"Think I'll just stay here with the Bit," Spike replied easily, reaching over and tugging on Dawn's hair.
Buffy looked both doubtful and touched at the same time. She hadn't quite realized that Spike's affection for her sister went so far as to have him spending the day with her. "Well, okay. Dawn, there should be food in the fridge. I left some money on the counter. If I'm not home by six, go ahead and order pizza for us." She glared at her sister. "And no anchovies this time."
"Anchovies are the best!" Dawn protested. At Buffy's stern look, she muttered, "Fine, no anchovies."
Buffy nodded. "Great. Okay, I'm off."
"So what are we going to do today?" Dawn asked rather listlessly. Most of her friends were on vacation with their families, so her options were pretty much limited to Spike.
Spike shrugged. "What we do every day, Pinky."
Dawn grinned at his reference. "Try and take over the world," she finished the quote. "You watch cartoons."
"When there's nothin' else on," Spike said, trying to salvage his manly reputation. "'sides, I like Brain. Poor bugger's plans never stand a chance." He paused. "If I knew I was gonna be stuck here today, I'd have brought the Playstation."
"You have a Playstation?" Dawn asked. "You stole it?"
"No!" Spike glared at her. "I'd never—" He stopped, then reconsidered. "Well, I would, actually, but I bought it off a kid who was getting a new somethin' or other. He needed a bit of cash, an' I wanted his gear. Worked out well enough."
Dawn shrugged. "Unless you want to risk getting crispy, we'd probably better stay here, then. What else is there to do?"
"You get to pick the book first, Bit, so you tell me," he suggested.
Dawn stared at him, then her eyes lit up as she realized that Spike was going to keep his promise. "Okay. Um, you haven't read Harry Potter yet, have you?" she asked. "Because nobody else ever gets my references—except maybe Willow, but she and Tara are really busy, and—" she realized she was babbling. "You can start with the first one."
Spike frowned. "Aren't those kiddie books?"
"Are you suggesting I'm a kid?"
Spike wasn't stupid. He knew there was a right answer to that question. "Let's have it then."
Dawn raced upstairs, and soon returned with a well-worn paperback. "It won't take you very long," she stated, plopping down on her end of the couch with a different book.
Almost in spite of himself, Spike soon found himself drawn into the story. Plucky bunch of kids, magic, adventures, it might have been Sunnydale in good old England. He sped through the book as quickly as Dawn suggested he would, and they were soon embroiled in a discussion about the various characters.
"'m just sayin' he's not that bad, yeah?" Spike said, disagreeing with Dawn's firm hatred of Professor Snape. "Saved Harry, didn't he?"
Dawn blinked, trying to find some argument with that. "He hates Harry!" she protested. "And he makes his life miserable."
"So he's a mean bastard," Spike agreed. "Doesn't necessarily make a person evil. You can be on the right side of things and not be pure as the driven snow. 's about bein' gray, not just black an' white. He get more evil as things go on?"
Dawn opened her mouth to argue again, and then stopped. Snape didn't get more evil, but she hated to ruin things for him. She still didn't like Snape, but she could see Spike's point. She also could see what he was talking about. It wasn't just about a character in a book, it was about real life too. Spike was also talking about himself, in a way. "I still don't like him."
"You shouldn't." Spike looked over at her. "Man would stab you in the back, given half a chance, but he's on the right side of the fight. That's what counts—the end of things. Which side a man's on."
"Or a vampire?" Dawn asked slyly.
He gave her a wink, appreciating her cheek. "Or a vampire."
"Do you think you have a soul?" Dawn asked, coming out of nowhere.
Spike thought about it for a moment. It was something he pondered on sleepless days. "Dunno," he finally confessed. "Saw the people I'd wronged, yeah? An' I was in their shoes. S'pose—s'pose I understood finally, what it means to take somebody's life." There was a long pause, and then Spike said, "Soul's bloody overrated, anyway. Plenty of people have a soul an' still do nasty things to each other."
"Do you think I have a soul?" Dawn asked.
"What makes you ask that, Bit?"
She shrugged. "I'm the Key, right? I look human, but do I have a soul?"
"Don't think it matters," Spike finally said. "What matters is the side you're on, yeah?"
Dawn looked up at him from her spot on the floor. He was stretched out across the couch, looking a little sleepy, but still giving her his full attention. She realized she loved him. Not the love-love like he felt for Buffy, but the regular sort, like you had for friends and family. The kind you felt for anyone who would leave a really big hole in you if something happened to them. Dawn knew all about holes—she'd had to learn the hard way recently, but she thought Spike's hole would be impossible to fill ever again. There would never be another person in the world who could be what Spike was to her, because what Spike was to her was unnameable. But in a good way.
"I love you."
The words hung in the air, and in the silence that followed, Dawn refused to be ashamed of what she felt or what she had said. If the last few months had taught her anything at all, it was that nothing lasts forever.
"Love you." His eventual reply sealed the deal. It might as well have been a blood pact.
~~~~~
"So what did you and Dawn do all day?" Buffy asked later that night. She couldn't help but be a little curious about what Spike would find so mesmerizing about her sister that he would willingly spend the day with her.
Spike shrugged. He could hear the tinge of jealousy in her tone, though he was fairly certain it was because of time spent, not because she thought he had designs on Dawn. Please. He wasn't into children. Not like some he could name...
"Read a bit, watched the telly, nothin' too fascinatin'." Spike turned to look at her. "Jealous?"
"Of Dawn?" Buffy asked incredulously. "Please. As if. I mean, she's not even sixteen yet." She got to thinking of when she'd met Angel, and added, "Besides, you're not the type."
"Type of what?"
"Type to cheat," Buffy explained off-handedly.
Spike stopped and stared at her. "I wouldn't be cheatin'." At the Slayer's scowl, he hastened to add, "An' even if I was goin' with someone else, it wouldn't be Niblet. She's like—like family. It'd be incest."
He looked truly disgusted, and Buffy decided to let that part of the conversation go. "Okay, but what do you mean, it 'wouldn't be cheatin'?'" She did a horrible British accent, and Spike stifled a laugh.
"I'm not seein' anybody," he reminded her.
"But you're in love with me."
It was a statement, not a question, and her slightly imperious tone had him muttering under his breath, "Some days I have to wonder why."
"What did you say?" Spike wouldn't meet her eyes. Buffy finally sighed. "You're technically right, Spike. It wouldn't be cheating, since we aren't dating." There was a long pause, and she added softly, "But I think it might feel like cheating to both of us."
He glanced over at her in surprise. Not wanting to push, happy just to have her admit it, Spike simply agreed. "Probably would at that."
~~~~~
Lyndon held the handkerchief over his rather delicate nose. Mirok demons smelled like an open sewer as a rule, but these seemed to be especially fragrant specimens. "I want you to kill the Slayer," he instructed them, ignoring their slavering grins. "Kill her friends too, if you like, and be sure to kill the vampire."
"But—" He held up a hand in warning. "Be sure you kill the Slayer first. I want the vampire to see her die before his eyes. Do you understand?"
There were grunts and growls all around, and Lyndon took that as agreement. "Very well, children. Off you go."
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