Part 3
Spike watched the two of them, heads together in conference, silhouetted
against the glaring sunlight. Xander and Dawn usually both jumped out of the
car and came straight into the shop. Spike knew Xander intended to brief
Dawn about the Watcher's visit. He wished they were with him in the dim shop
so that he could gauge her reactions by sight and scent. When they emerged
from the vehicle Dawn sedately crossed the street without the bounce she had
just begun to display when arriving 'home' from school. Upon entering the
shop she came straight to him and asked, "You know?"
"Not to worry, nibblet, they've been here before. For all their bloody books
and lore, they're as Hellmouth-blind as the rest of the blighted buggers
that live here." Spike tried to sound nonchalant and hoped that his attitude
soothed the girl. The truth was he feared for her, but the boy was right; in
Spike's experiences with both Slayers and Watchers, they tended to see just
what they wanted to see. He sat at the table with Dawn as she unpacked her
books and told him about her day, more subdued than usual. Xander brought
her a cold drink and Spike a warm mug. Normally Xander waited only on Dawn,
so perhaps that was what made Spike watch the boy so intently. The dark-eyed
youth moved about at his normal pace but Spike noticed that in the process
of straightening the store the boy secured the exits and stashed weapons
about the place.
Spike had been prepared for an argument the night before. The boy had fought
beside the Slayer for five years and held Rupert in the awe usually reserved
for beloved parents or heroes. Yet the moment Spike had pointed out the
threat, a feral light had gleamed in Xander's eyes and he had begun to
consolidate their defenses and marshal their rescources. When the boy had
said, "Let's go see the witches," Spike had been relieved and a bit shocked
to be believed so readily. He had never been so completely trusted. Angelus
would have questioned him thoroughly to ensure he had not misinterpreted
something or that he was not just plain wrong. Xander had accepted that if
Spike thought that something had the potential to hurt Dawn, then it did. He
didn't waste time with that other rot, he just acted. The boy often
belittled his own intelligence with his jokes and Spike, like many others,
had begun to accept Xander's statements as fact. But over the past weeks
since they had lost the Slayer, Spike had spent more time with him than any
of the others except Dawn. Spike realized that what Xander attributed to
'lack of intelligence' was in actuality the result of poor education. Given
the American educational system and Xander's penchant for head-butting walls
and frequent sleepless nights while saving the world, Spike was surprised
the boy knew as much as he did. Sure, the kid couldn't pick Portugal out on
a map if you put a gun to his head, and he thought Henry VIII was a British
pop singer from the Sixties but there was real intelligence in those big
brown eyes. Xander spotted Spike's scrutiny as he was hauling an ax and some
crossbows up into the loft. He gave a self-conscious shrug and grinned at
the vampire. The Watcher emerged from his office and nervously began
checking over everything in preparation for their visitors. He found a sword
stashed behind the checkout counter and looked pointedly at Spike. Spike
smirked and nodded to the boy in the loft.
"Er, Xander…" Giles held the sword flat in both palms and raised an eyebrow.
"You don't have to throw it at anyone, G-Man, I just thought it might, you
know…" He shrugged and brushed his hair out of his eyes, "keep down the
interruptions." Xander's grin was contagious. The witches arrived to see all
four of them smiling.
"Why are we happy?" Willow asked, smiling a little hesitantly herself.
"Xander has been redecorating again." Giles said. "Are there any more of
these I should be aware of?'
"Here and there." The boy looked completely unrepentant and Spike thought
about what a lovely vampire he would make.
~~~~~
By the time the Watchers arrived Spike had taken up a post on the stairs to
one side of Dawn. The witches sat at the table, on her other side. Blond and
red hair pressed together, side by side, as they shared the same tome,
softly whispering disjointed comments and finishing each other's sentences.
When the four Watchers entered through the front door, Spike wondered if
they had tried the other entrance only to find it bolted. He had to stop
himself from turning to look at the boy as the Watchers spread out in a
defensive pattern. When one pulled a squirt gun full of holy water, Spike
almost apologized out loud to the golden-haired Slayer for failing her so
miserably.
Before he had done more than register that he had placed himself in front of
Dawn, the threat flew across the room and he heard the boy say, "Drop it."
From the look on Quentin Travers face, there was a weapon pointed him,
probably one of the crossbows. Spike growled, flashing his game face and
flexed, gnashing his teeth and clenching his fists. The truth was he was in
shock and didn't want the Watchers to read his human visage. He had seen the
Slayer's minions react when one of their own was threatened; it was a thing
of beauty, their fierceness. Spike had never expected to receive that
protection, to be wrapped in the unquestioning loyalty they reserved for one
of their own. It was all he could do not to laugh out loud, to crow his
delight. In all those years as part of 'the Scourge of Europe' he had never
felt this good, this powerful. Sweet Dru, bless her black heart, could never
be relied on from one moment to the next. Angelus was besotted with his Sire
and too concerned with losing face or being betrayed to ever rely on Spike
or to show him loyalty. And Darla, the selfish bint, had only tolerated
Spike because he could manage Dru and was so far down in the pecking order
that he wasn't considered a threat. This—this was warmth— this was safety.
Spike was one of them and he would risk his unlife to protect them, he would
keep them close. Dawn was tugging on his arm and he couldn't not laugh when
he met her eyes. That increased the scent of fear coming from the Watchers.
Spike wondered what he had missed while growling and threatening the
Watchers. Dawn seemed less tense, Rupert, had lowered his weapon, the
witches still clasped hands and now that Spike had turned toward Dawn he
could see that Xander was still braced for a shot with the crossbow. It was
leveled at Quentin Travers. The bell on the door jangled, the Watchers not
having locked it behind them, and a redhead smelling of horses and iodine
entered. She stopped to examine the unconscious Watcher and prodded him with
her foot. In a moment she had all their attention; there was a dragon in
Sunnydale, and she seemed to think that the Slayer's minion would do
something about it. Spike took the opportunity presented by the distraction
to drag Dawn into the back.
~~~~~
Later, after unsuccessfully trying to get the nibblet to stay at Rupert's
place, Spike watched the redhead lead the boy through the under brush. They
had parked the cars back on the dirt access road and circled around. The
girl looked at Xander with obvious lust and Spike wondered if they were
shagging. The scent was wrong but the demon bint was out of the picture and
the boy was young and healthy and shaggable. *Where the hell did that come
from!* He stuck close to Dawn, hoping his presence would make the bleeding
Watchers keep their distance and provide protection from the dragon. Spike
had been unconscious from his plummet off the tower when the beast had made
its appearance through the vortex, but if the nibblet said she saw it, she
saw it. Not to mention he could smell some sort of huge carnivore as soon as
they pulled up to the access road. The young man who met them in the
clearing by a pickup truck looked enough like Xander to be his brother. Same
height, same coloring, but added were a beard, a broadsword, and the
clinging red-haired bint. Before long, arguing broke out. No one knew what
to do about the dragon but none of them wanted to concede that fact. They
could have been there all night, or until the Watchers regained their
composure and took over, but quietly, with his trademark humor, Xander got
them all working together. The Watchers, minus their walking wounded back at
the shop, still tried to explain away a dragon on the Hellmouth, while Giles
and the witches made a list of what they would need to use the 'Olaf
Maneuver' on a dragon. Spike was relieved when they took Dawn with them to
get supplies and set out after Xander to take in the lay of the land and
keep an eye on the dragon. Of course, the plan went to hell the minute the
dragon woke up. They were laying out the braziers that the magic users had
prepared when the beast snapped to attention and started to thrash about in
a bottom-heavy attempt to snatch the circling humans. The futile flapping
sent up blinding gales of sand and debris. Spike almost missed the sound of
the gunshot in the racket of the dragon; the dragon didn't. It zeroed in on
the loud noise and incidentally, the location of the rest of the humans.
Spike followed the beast at a run, snagging a twelve-foot grounding rod as
he careened through the paddock, leaping over the horse carcasses.
Fortunately, due to the lay of the land and several large trees surrounding
the clearing, the dragon had to snake around to strike. Adjusting his course
to come at its exposed chest, Spike launched himself and his weapon at the
screaming beast. He felt the metal rod impale the dragon and sink a good
four feet into its massive body before he let go to drop to the ground and
roll away from its slashing claws. Wet hot fluid splashed his lower body and
a stench far stronger than previously practically knocked the vampire
unconscious.
When Spike staggered back to the humans, he wasn't sure Dawn was all right.
He had heard a female scream and had known it wasn't one of his, but needed
to be reassured. The sight of Xander leaning against the truck flooded him
with relief. The boy was exhausted but not hurt, and Spike knew the girl
would be near. He heard her rapid heartbeat from under the truck; she would
probably have been safe there even if he hadn't managed to drive the dragon
off. He told her to come out after he was sure it had been banished and she
went to look after the witches. The Watcher bint looked like she had been
dipped in dragon's blood and had been the source of all the screams. Dawn
came back and dragged him to the barn to hose off his jeans. She suggested
with a blush that he take them off, but he told her they would be clearing
out before the authorities worked up the nerve to have a look at all the
racket.
"Spike? Where'd they get a gun? I saw a movie where the police in England
don't even carry guns." She was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth
and smelled more strongly of fear than she had all night.
"What's going on in that head of yours, Nibblet? You're an American. You
people get guns before you get driver's license; the mindless violence is my
favorite thing about this country. Well, that and the Ramones." Spike tried
to draw her attention away from the Watchers. She didn't answer but her eyes
were wide as she considered the Watchers who were clustered about their
reeking comrade.
It was Xander's quiet voice that broke her rapt contemplation as he wandered
over to them. "Dawnie, not all Watcher's are English, they could have picked
up anything once they came through customs. We," the boy indicated both
Spike and the witches, who were standing over with the sword-welding couple,
"have taken every precaution. I guarantee, after the wet work crap they
pulled when Buffy was stuck in Faith's body and the threats they leveled
last time they were here, we're ready for a fight. I honestly don't think
it's gonna come to that." He tucked the girl under his arm and offered her a
smile that she, after a moment, returned.
The redhead who was so enamored of Xander offered Spike a ride back to town
in the open bed of the truck and the boy surprised the vampire by suggesting
they drop him at Xander's place. Spike would never have been able to get rid
of the smell at the crypt. Xander had remarked earlier that judging from the
outside he imagined the inside of the dragon would smell really bad. He had
been right. Spike was never sure how much the Watcher taught them about
vampires, other than how to kill them. Vampires, like most hunters, had a
very sensitive sense of smell and Spike was miserable. He desperately wanted
to get clean. He was grateful that Xander was letting him into his apartment
smelling like he did. Even a human's limited sense of smell would be
offended by this stench, as the sobbing Watcher cow proved.
~~~~~
Later, as the boy showed off his cleaning supplies, Spike was treated to a
brief glimpse of the quirkiness of being a "Scooby". Most twenty-year-old
men were just learning the art of removing their own stains and general
laundry upkeep. Xander frowned at the Spike's sticky jeans and said, "I
think I can get rid of the smell, but it will probably take all the color
out." He looked up with questioning expectancy, and at Spike's nod fetched a
metal bucket, probably from the construction site, and filled it with cold
water. He emptied an unmarked bottle of colorless liquid into the water and
said, "This is really toxic. Make sure you don't get any on…Oh yeah. Duh."
Xander brought him a change of clothes for when he was clean and then
stumbled out in a fit of awkward shyness at being caught ogling Spike. The
vampire had it on good authority that he was worth more that a passing look
but tried not to snicker too obviously at his friend. * Friend? Bloody hell,
I'm a wet little sod.*
Part 4
Back to Reconstruction Main Page
