AN: Taken from S.o5 episode "Blood Ties." Some quotes are altered to fit the story.

Just a reminder that all characters and (most) situations borrowed here belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I didn’t feel like coming up with my own version of "Blood Ties" so I just borrowed stuff from the script and manipulated it to my own will. I invoke the creative license rule!

enjoy :)

Out of My Head
    ...part X...
.:Summer's Blood:.

Willow put a comforting arm around the Slayer’s shoulders, then sighed when she pulled away quickly. Buffy walked out of the training room, clutching the suddenly despised journal. Willow followed briskly.

Xander was bouncing on his heels in anticipation when the girls came out. He’d seen Spike storm out just earlier, and he was hoping to God that once again, Slayer and Vampire had pissed each other off. Then it would finally give Buffy the chance to put a stake through the jerk’s undead heart.

"What happened? What happened? What happened?"

Even after he’d gotten the question across, he continued to repeat himself. He sounded like an excitable puppy that was dying for someone to throw a ball. Damn it.

Buffy narrowed her eyes at everyone in the group and looked up when Giles walked down the steps, motioning for him to take a seat. She looks toward Willow, her grim features asking the same of her. Once everyone had been seated, Buffy all but threw Giles’ notebook into his lap.

"I found that in the training room. Open," she began quietly. She furrowed her brow, tilting her head at Giles. "By any chance, did you happen to leave that laying around somewhere out here?"

Giles blanched, picking the book up and looking it over. "Uh... p-perhaps. I-I may have... left it on the counter at the register," he stuttered. Then he looked up at Buffy, his eyebrows raised. "It was open, you say?"

Buffy nodded. Pursing her lips, she clasped her arms behind her back and looked around at her friends before continuing. "Can I ask you guys what you were doing for the last two hours or so? I mean... did any of you happen to notice my sister walk in? At all?"

Xander’s excitement from earlier had pretty much shattered from the moment Buffy first opened her mouth, and now he raised a sheepish, guilty hand. "Uh... we weren’t really paying much attention to her, Buffy."

The Slayer’s countenance darkened. "You weren’t paying attention to my sister." She turned and began to pace. "All right. So... none of you even saw her come in to the store. NONE... of you saw her take Giles’ journal right off of the counter. NONE... of you possibly saw a completely shattered girl run out of here like a bat out of hell?" The entire group looked at each other shamefully. "Right. Of course not. And... how long have you guys not been noticing Dawn?"

Willow bit her lower lip. "Uh... possibly since you told us about the... the, uh... situation with her?"

Buffy stared at Willow, silent for a moment, then laughed in disbelief. "Three days. You’ve been... ignoring Dawn for three days." She ran her hands over her face and through her hair, then looked back up angrily. "What in the HELL is wrong with you?!"

Anya frowned. "Well, you told us to keep it all on the down low, you know."

Not a good answer. Buffy’s eyes widened in rage. "By that I meant not to mention it, out loud, in front of her, EVER! I didn’t mean to treat her like an alien or, or the Invisible Man! And now she knows! She found out that she’s the Key, and she’s run away! What the hell is gonna happen if Glory finds her? Oh my god, why didn’t I tell her?"

Buffy clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes glistening and filling with tears. She started again, her voice slightly muffled. "I should have told her, I should’ve listened to Spike!"

One would have thought she was crying, but instead, Buffy began to hyperventilate, her breathing coming in quick, harsh bursts. She began to rock back and forth. "Oh, god, why didn’t I tell her? I should have, I should have told her the second I found out! Spike was right, he was RIGHT, I should’ve told her!"

Everyone was silent, not one of them sure what to do. Giles finally moved forward, setting his hands on her shoulders, starting a little in surprise when she spun around and hugged him.

"Giles, what am I gonna do? She must be furious with me," Buffy mumbled into his shirt. Willow stepped up and put a hand gently on Buffy’s.

"We’ll look for her. We’ll find her, Buffy. It won’t be too hard. I mean, we can," she looked to Tara and grabbed her girlfriend’s hand. "We can get some ingredients, and, and do a-a spell to find her. And we can... form search parties, and --"

"Get Spike," Buffy murmured. The group looked at her, and she let go of Giles to stare at them. "Spike’s a vampire. He knows Dawn’s essence. He could find her, I know he could." She stood up.

Xander began to protest Spike’s involvement, but Giles raised his hand to shut him up. "We’ll make certain that Spike is retrieved, Buffy. And we will find Dawn, I promise you that." The Slayer nodded but didn’t turn around. Instead, she made her way toward the training room to either change or work out her frustrations. The instant Buffy disappeared, Xander spoke up.

"Why do we have to get the peroxide abuser on this?" he complained. "Dawn’s part of our family; he’s not. I think between me, you, Wills, Tara and Buffy, we can find her pretty easily, without dragging Dead Boy into this."

Giles sighed. "As Buffy said, Spike is our best bet on finding Dawn. He does know her essence. And from the way he acts around her, I believe he considers her to be his own family."

Willow nodded. "Sorry, Xand, but Giles is right. Right before he left, Spike even said that he cared about Dawn. And you know he never truthfully admits to something unless it’s really important to him. The favor’s in Spike’s court right now."

Giles turned to watch the red-head. "I take it Buffy and Spike had an argument?"

She nodded. "About her not telling Dawnie. He left pretty mad."

Giles nodded. "Then I suggest you go after him, Willow."

The Wiccan’s eyes widened and nearly fell out of her head. "Me?" she squeaked. "Why me? Does it have to be... me?"

Giles eyed her. "Spike won’t harm you; it appears he seems more fond or, or tolerant, of the girls than of Xander or I. He is angry at Buffy, and Buffy is upset -- it wouldn’t do to send her after him with both of their emotions twisted up inside of them. If he does attempt to harm you, for whatever reason, you are quite able to defend yourself." He looked away from Willow to eye Xander. "Besides -- I believe you are the wisest choice amongst the three of us."

Willow didn’t look convinced -- in fact, she was verging on frantic, near-spasmodic terror. "But--but.... ME. In Spike’s crypt? And with him, all... grr and mad-acting?" In a tiny voice, she pleaded, "Can’t someone come with?"

Giles frowned at her. "Willow, I know you to be braver than that. I’ve already told you that Spike will not hurt you." At her desperate, beseeching look, he sighed and relented. "But... if it worries you that much, you can take Tara with you."

Willow bounced up, suddenly much happier, and let out a relieved gasp. "Okay. Round-up squad can-do!" She grabbed Tara’s hand. "You can bet we’ll be back here in twenty minutes," she called as she followed Tara out the door of the Magic Box."

Xander folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, scowling. "With two full-fledged witches against one vampire, they better be."

"Are you sure this... barrier thing around us is really necessary, Willow?" Tara asked tentatively, waving her arm around in front of her. It really was pointless -- the barrier she was talking about was magical. Willow had conjured it up in her lingering fear of a mad, chipless Spike, and had employed it as a sort of invisible restraining order, not allowing the vampire any more than seven feet near them.

Willow looked up at her girlfriend, wiping a bit of dust off of the hem of her skirt. "Just a safety precaution, honey," she reassured. "I trust him, really I do. Just not that much."

Tara gave Willow an amused grin before both girls turned toward the big iron door of the crypt. Cautiously, Willow raised her hand to knock, and froze as still as possible as the harsh, guttural thuds echoed from the inside out. They waited quietly.

No answer.

They looked at each other, then Willow carefully pulled open the door, poking her head inside. "Spike?" she called out as she and Tara walked in. "A-are you here?"

A grunt sounded from the corner of the room, making the girls jump simultaneously. They looked in the direction of the noise and saw a platinum blonde head resting against the wall. Seated on the sarcophagus, Spike turned his head, fixating his stormy blue eyes on the Wiccans.

"Hmph. Least you knocked." The vampire sighed as he scooched off of the slab, then stood up, grasping something -- oh. A small, lovely little silver flask. So he was drunk. Or at least drinking. Better to deal with him when he was slightly tipsy. He still understood, but he couldn’t be bothered to have a fist-fight. Much. "Why’re you here, witches?"

Willow spoke up. "Buffy--"

The second the Slayer’s name was mentioned, Spike snorted and turned away, lifting the flask and taking a good, solid chug of whatever was in there. Willow ignored him and continued. "Buffy told us to come get you. She said you were the only one who could really stand a chance at finding Dawn."

Spike turned, an irritated look on his face. "So the Princess wants me to come to the rescue? Like a bloody knight in shinin’ armor. She want me to save Nibblet, then? Yeh, I’ll find Bitty, but ‘m not doin’ it for her. Stuck up little bitch." He turned and flopped onto the chair in front of his television.

"Thinks she can toss me ‘round, order me about. Drags me into somethin’, then wants me out the second I counter her. Bitch can’t bloody do that, needs to learn the rules. Thinks she’s so fuckin’ high an’ mighty an’ all, acts like I’m a speck of dust she takes precious time out to pay attention to. Can’t do that, ain’t allowed to do that; I’m higher up than she is, anyhow! Should be beggin’ me for my attention."

Tara exchanged a look with Willow, then walked up to the vampire... who was immediately bumped back seven feet due to the magical restraining order. He fell on the floor of the crypt, nearly spilling the contents of his flask, and looked around in surprise.

"What the bloody hell --"

Tara quickly made a cutting motion toward Willow, and Willow waved her hand hastily, removing the restriction. Tara moved forward again and gently put a hand on Spike’s arm, helping him up. Spike looked up at her, frowning.

"You should be afraid of me. Deathly afraid."

Tara returned his gaze with a gentle smile. "Yeah. I should be." Spike allowed her to help him up, then turned away from her, shaking his head.

"I’m a monster, luv, you should be runnin’ in terror as we speak. Why the hell are you treatin’ me like a human bein’?" he asked, sighing.

The blonde witch stood still, biting her lower lip for a moment before answering. "Because you act like one."

Spike turned to look at her curiously, before allowing a infinitesimal smile to touch his lips. "That so, pet?"

Tara moved up to him again, putting a hand urgently on his arm. "Buffy’s starting to realize it, too. But now isn’t the time to dwell on that. Spike, we need you. Buffy and Dawn need you. We’ve got to find her, and we have to have your help. There’s no telling what could happen to her with Glory around. Please, come back to the Magic Box with us."

Spike stared at the girl for a moment. She’d always been so shy whenever she was in his vicinity. Hmph. It really did take times of crisis to show the truth in people’s natures. "Slayer good an’ ready?"

Tara bit her lip. "She’s getting there. She was pretty upset."

Spike nodded. "I would be too, being as Bitty’s her only sis."

Tara shook her head. "Because of you."

Spike’s eyebrows arched in surprise. "Cos’ of me?" He was silent for a bit, contemplating this information. He looked up then, sharing looks with each of the witches. "Let’s go then. Bitty needs her Big Bad." < An’ so does the Slayer > Spike thought internally, closing the flask and dropping it onto the lounge chair.

He walked over and picked his duster up off the floor, draping it around his shoulders -- and it looked extremely good on him, despite the fact that the twenty-four year old leather sort of clung to his upper back and arms, and his shoulders -- then walked out the door of the crypt.

Tara turned to Willow, noticing that the red-head was gazing at her with a look of extreme shock and admiration. "What is it, Willow?" she asked softly, her demeanor becoming quiet and soft-spoken once again.

Willow gazed at her lover in amazement, an enormous smile gracing her face, before she slid an arm around Tara’s waist. "Tara, that was amazing! How did you manage to get through to him like that?"

Tara’s hand moved down to clasp the hand around her waist, then wrapped her free arm around Willow’s shoulder. The blonde smiled sweetly as she spoke. "Spike needed someone that didn’t have a sort of one-sided judgment on him. And since I-I’m not... entirely an outsider, or an official Scooby... I could sort of see both sides. And I could see that... Spike was sort of hurting. He acts all mean and scary, and he is -- he really is -- but it doesn’t matter what he is. He still has feelings, and I think Buffy hurt those feelings earlier."

Willow tilted her head. "How do you figure that?"

Tara shrugged. "Spike said that she... dragged him into something, then tried to... push him away and act like he didn’t matter. That’s kinda what tipped me off."

Willow’s smile grew even bigger and she hugged her girlfriend tightly, giving her a soft kiss. "Baby, you are brilliant!"

Buffy put her fingers on her temples and rubbed gently as she sat down next to the table in the back of the magic store. The bell above the door rang loudly and Buffy looked up, hope shooting across her features, then relief as Spike stormed in, followed closely by Willow and Tara, both who were wearing huge smiles of pride. Spike moved around the table to lean against a display, ignoring Anya’s immediate squawking. He caught Buffy’s gaze, and gave her a small nod of reassurance. She nodded quickly, then looked around to the rest.

"Guys, we have to find her," she began quietly, looking around the table at her allies. "Fast. Before Glory figures out what - who she really is. Mom's gonna stay at home in case she shows up. I figure we split up and sweep the city." The Slayer stood up and directed the first assignment toward the ex-demon. "Anya. Will you stay here in case she shows up?" Anya nodded quickly, her face grim. Normally, she ignored things, let them fly right by. But Glory finding Dawn meant an upset Slayer, and the end of the world as they knew it. And the end of the world meant no more Xander, or friends, or money. And that was bad. So she was getting her ass on the ball this time.

Buffy turned toward the men. "Xander, Giles, you guys take the center of town. Willow, Tara, west side. Spike, you and I'll get the east side." A quick nod from each group gave her confirmation and Spike moved to stand beside her as everyone stood up. Buffy exchanged a look with him, then turned to everyone again. "Just find her... please."

A small, lanky figure moved through a playground that night, looking about sadly. Dawn eyed the swing set with despondence.

<< A younger Dawn sat on a swing at a park somewhere in Los Angeles as a younger Buffy with darker hair, and no knowledge of what was to happen to her when she turned fifteen, pushed her from behind.

"Betcha can’t push me all the way around!" the younger Dawn yelled, an enormous grin covering her happy, chubby little face. The younger Buffy giggled in response.

"Oh yes I can!" she answered, and set out to prove herself to her sister.

"No you can’t!" the younger Dawn shouted, despite being proven wrong by her sibling immediately. Their laughs and giggles filled the air, a final symbol of the innocence of their former lives. >>

Dawn snapped back to reality, staring at the dark, empty swing set, her face scrunching up, tear tracks covering her cheeks. She turned and walked away.

Xander walked along steadily beside Giles, peering behind and into a dumpster, as the elder man searched behind a few trash cans. Their search had taken them to downtown Sunnydale and, at the moment, a very creepy looking alley. Xander sighed.

"There's so many things I remember. Seeing Dawn ... hanging with her ... listening to Buffy complain about her. Mostly that last one." He looked somberly at Giles. "How could it be that all those things never really happened?"

Giles sighed. "Well, it takes some getting used to. The idea of a ... bright fourteen-year-old actually being living energy thousands of years old."

The two continued to stroll along, though it was obvious that their search was not warranting anything.

"I'm guessing some kind of super-powerful in her raw form," Xander commented, swiping at an empty bag.

Giles nodded resignedly. "People have killed, died for it ... summoned armies to control the key."

There was a moment of silence, then out of no where, Xander piped up with, "You know, uh ... she kinda has a crush on me."

Giles glanced at the boy, his face not revealing any enthusiasm over the subject. "Your point being?"

The look on Xander’s face was mulish and self-satisfied at the same time. He stopped walking and answered, "Well nothing, no, uh ... just saying, powerful being ... big energy gal digging the Xan-man." He grinned, and Giles regarded him with a frown. "Some guys are just cooler, you know?"

Giles turned and walked away from him, rolling his eyes and praying mentally for patience. Why was it that he always got stuck with Xander, anyway?

Xander followed quietly.

As she and Spike strode through the playground at Sunnydale Elementary, Buffy repeatedly called out, "Dawn? DAWN!"

Spike was starting to get that old, irritated feeling again. "Yeah, that should do it."

Buffy’s head whipped around and she glared at him. "Shut up."

Spike scowled at her. "The Nibblet scampered off to get away from you. She hears you bellowing, she's gonna pack it in the opposite direction." They stopped walking, and he gave her a meaningful Look before glancing around at their surroundings. "Can’t say I blame her," he muttered.

Great. As if she wasn’t feeling guilty enough. She moved closer to Spike, cautiously touching his hand. "You were right," she said softly, staring at the ground. Spike’s head whipped around and he looked at her in surprise, his eyebrows rising. "This is my fault," she continued. "I should’ve told her."

He stared at her for a moment, and felt himself soften, his heart twisting and aching for her. She looked so... vulnerable, helpless. < Balls > he thought, irritated. He was supposed to be mad at her, but one helpless look, and she had him cornered. He carefully put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. He sighed.

"Look, she probably would have skipped off anyway, even if she never found out," he began softly, rubbing her arm. "She's not just a blob of energy, she's also a fourteen-year-old hormone bomb." He sighed again, shaking his head. "Which one’s screwin’ her up more right now, spin the bloody wheel." He looked down at her, pleased to find that she was now looking up at him; listening to him. "You’ll find her, just in the nick of time, that’s what you hero types do."

Buffy grasped his arm tightly, looking up at him hopefully. < Do you mean that? > her eyes said.

Spike raised a hand to stroke her hair, then gently kissed her forehead. "You’ll find her," he said in a firm, quiet voice.

Buffy leaned into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. "And then what?" she whispered as they continued to walk.

Dawn sat quietly in a chair, a mixture of fright, awe, and confusion on her face. She could not have just...

Ben had just turned into Glory.

Dawn had wandered to the hospital after she’d left the playground, feeling an urge to listen to what the psychos had to say about her. They’d all known, each of them had known, had seen a green light coursing around her. She’d tried to make them talk, tried to get them to tell her what she was, when one of them had mentioned something about the Key being a link, and the link needing to be severed.

When he started repeating, "Such is the will of God," she got even more freaked.

She’d backed up and ran right into Ben, the doctor who had been there when her mother had needed to come in. It had been the morning before Spike had first bitten Buffy. Ben took her to the locker room of the hospital and made her some hot chocolate. They’d started talking, and suddenly everything had just spilled out -- she wasn’t real. She was a thing. Ben had begun to freak out and scared her badly -- "You're what she's been searching for! I am telling you, run!" -- and then...

Right in front of her eyes, Ben had turned into the woman before her. Glory. The so-called Hell God.

"Ugh, cotton!"

Dawn’s attention snapped around and she stared at the blonde woman, who had her back to her, squirming out of the blue scrubs that Ben had been wearing. "Could a fabric be anymore annoyingly pedestrian?" she muttered, reaching into the locker she stood in front of. "Now this is what I’m talking about," she continued, smiling as she pulled a red silk dress over her head. "Makes your skin sing."

Dawn swallowed hard. "You’re -- you’re Ben..."

Stretching her arms behind her to button the blouse, Glory sniffed. "Uh, it’s an eensy more complicated than that. Family always is, isn’t it?"

Okay. Now she was steadily getting more freaked. Dawn looked anxiously toward the door, wondering how fast she could run to get there before Glory would catch her.

"You’d never make it." Dawn’s head spun around and she looked toward Glory, whose back was still facing her. She gulped again. "I'd rip out your spine before you got half a step. And those little legs?" Glory smiled over her shoulder at the girl. "They wouldn't be much good without one of those."

And suddenly, Glory was right there next to her, bent down in order to see eye to eye with the fourteen-year-old. "Would they, Dawnie?"

Dawn gasped, jumping back in surprise. < Don’t freak out, don’t freak out.... >

"Now... what I’m trying to noodle is what in the world is the Slayer’s little sis doing here with gentle Ben?" Glory asked, tilting her head.

Dawn tried as hard as she could not to scream. "Y-You don’t remember?"

It was funny. As terrifying as this was, Glory looked as sweet and gentle as could be as she brushed a lock of Dawn’s hair off of her shoulder. "Remember what? You were talking to him, not me." Then she gasped, and grabbed Dawn’s chin, forcing the girl to look at her. "Oh, he wasn’t being naughty, was he?"

A guard then chose the wrong moment to enter. Seeing Glory and Dawn, he frowned and moved forward. "Excuse me, ma’am, this area is for hospital personnel--"

Glory turned and, grabbing the guard’s head viciously, she twisted it around, snapping his neck. The guard fell to the floor and Dawn gasped in fear. Glory turned around and bent down to Dawn again.

"Rude! I was talking!" She sighed, then pulled Dawn off of her feet. "What do you say we find a nice place off the beaten," she suggested, grabbing Dawn by the front of her blouse and spinning her around, "Where you and I can have a long uninterrupted chat."

An extremely terrified Dawn was pushed out the door.

They’d followed a trail to the hospital, and were having absolutely no luck whatsoever. Buffy turned away from the reception desk and looked dejectedly at Spike. "She wasn’t brought in," she murmured.

Xander tilted his head. "That’s a happy thing, right?"

Buffy sighed, rubbing her hands over hers eyes. "I don’t know... I --"

A doctor hurried by, followed by a group of security guards. "..found him on the floor in the break room. You guys gotta see him. His head's almost twisted clean off."

Buffy’s head shot up and she watched as the doctor disappeared down the hall. She swallowed hard. "Glory."

They ran.

Xander came up behind the goddess and slammed a tire iron down on her head. Glory spun around and grabbed it away from him, glaring angrily. "Hey! Watch the hair!" She flung Xander away from her, sending him flying right back into Giles. The two men crashed into the x-ray screen, sending an explosion of sparks all over the place. Dawn shrieked, covering her head and cowering.

Glory pointed the tire iron at both of them. "Time to start the dyin’!" she called, then spun around, pointing the tire iron at Dawn. "Start with the whelp!"

The tire iron was thrown like a javelin at the fourteen-year-old, and Dawn shrieked again, her eyes widening in horror. Buffy looked up instantly.

"Dawn!" she gasped, then threw herself in the path of the iron, allowing it to impale her upper chest. Buffy hit the ground and moaned softly in pain. Dawn’s eyes widened and she began crawling towards her older sister.

"Buffy!" she cried out.

Buffy looked up. "Get back!"

Glory grinned menacingly. "Nice catch. Is that the best you little crap-gnats can muster?" She watched in amusement as Buffy pulled the tire iron out of her with a wince of pain. "Cuz I gotta tell ya, so not impressed."

She stormed in between Willow and Tara, whose chants had reached their crescendo. The Wiccans each threw a handful of sparkling dust on the goddess, covering her entire dress and body in the shimmer. Glory’s eyes widened in outrage.

"Look what you did to my dress, you little--"

Willow clapped her hands once. "Decede!"

As Glory exploded and disappeared into a cloud of dust, Willow dropped to the floor. Tara looked over at her and gasped, running to her side. "Willow!"

Buffy’s look was one of amazement as she stared at Willow, and then she was brought back as she remembered her sister. "Dawn," she gasped, then pulled the girl to her, hugging her tightly. She looked back at the witches curiously. "What did you do to her?"

Willow panted heavily, her hand wiping at the blood dripping from her nose. "Teleportation spell. Still working out the kinks, you know, here and there."

Buffy frowned. "Where did you send her?"

Willow bit her lip and looked at Buffy. "Don’t know. That’s one of those kinks." Buffy let out a small, relieved laugh as Giles stood up and made his way over to the girls. He leaned down and helped Tara stand Willow up, shaking his head.

"That was an incredibly... dangerous spell for an adept at your level," he chastised, frowning.

Willow looked around, dazed. "Yep. Won’t be trying that one again soon."

Xander got up from his little mass of x-ray wires at the same time that Spike sat up, with a superbly annoyed look on his face. He promptly stood up and glared around. "Where the hell did she go? Don’t tell me I missed it!"

Xander glanced at the vampire, and couldn’t help the grin that appeared on his face. "You missed it all, buddy."

Spike growled and kicked a tray of operating utensils. "Dammit!" He glanced at his surroundings, then finally noticed Buffy and Dawn sitting on the ground next to each other. Both girls were wounded, and he hurried over, standing over them at their shoulders. Dawn looked up at him and gave him a weak smile. The smile faded as Buffy spoke.

"Are you okay? Did she hurt you?" she asked desperately.

Dawn looked away. "What do you care?"

Buffy looked at her in amazement. "Because I love you. You’re my sister, Dawn."

Dawn’s head stayed down. "No, I’m not. I’m not real. I’m just something that was made up, then plopped into your life. You don’t care about me because I’m your fake sister, you care because I’m your job. You have to protect me from Glory. If I wasn’t here, you wouldn’t even have to worry about her. I shouldn’t be here anyway. I’m not your sister." She looked blankly at the floor. "I’m not anything."

Buffy eyed her sister, noticing the bleeding wound along her arm. "Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that. Yes, you are. You are something. You’re Dawn Summers, you’re my sister, and you’re Joyce’s daughter." She lifted Dawn’s bloody arm, assuming the wound had come from being tossed around by Glory. "Look. Look at this -- it’s blood. It’s Summers blood."

Buffy’s free hand pressed into the tire iron wound in her chest and she bit her lip, wincing from the pain. Swallowing it up, she pressed her bloody hand against Dawn’s, holding them together. She looked her sister directly in her eyes. "It's just like mine. It doesn't matter where you came from, or... or how you got here. You are my sister." She paused for a second, lifting her other hand up to touch Dawn’s cheek. "There’s no way you could annoy me so much if you weren’t."

Dawn stared at Buffy, sniffling softly. Her eyes filled with tears, and she let out a tiny sob, moving toward Buffy and hugging her tightly. Buffy swallowed hard and tried to blink back her own tears, hugging Dawn back in a death grip. "I was so scared," Dawn whispered, crying softly.

Buffy gently stroked the girl’s hair, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "Me, too... me too."

A small, unwitting smile came to Spike’s face as he watched his girls, and he looked about, noticing the others staring at them. Willow rubbed at her eyes while Tara looked on fondly, a gentle smile placed on her soft mouth.

Buffy took no notice of them, and instead took a deep breath. "Come on." The Slayer stood, and pulled Dawn up with her. "I have to get you back home. Mom's freaking out."

Dawn’s eyes widened. "Oh... how bad did I scare her?"

Buffy tilted her head. "I think you sorta have a get-out-of-jail-free card on account of big love and trauma."

Dawn gave a relieved sigh. "Really? Okay. Good." She grasped Buffy’s hand, then looked up at Spike. She tentatively reached for him, and Spike raised his scarred eyebrow in surprise, then shrugged and let her hang on to his arm.

The four Scoobies behind them exchanged glances, then Willow and Tara grinned, hurrying after the three. Xander and Giles grimaced, but followed, catching up in time to hear Dawn asking for a raise in her allowance.

Buffy gave her a Look. "Don’t push it."

Dawn grinned. "Hey, it was worth a try."

Buffy scrunched her nose up at the fourteen-year-old. "You’re lucky I love you, little Miss JD."

A knock on the door of her bedroom.

"Come in!" Dawn called. She figured it would be Mom, running in for the hundredth time to scold her and coddle her all at once. She started in surprise when she saw Spike glide in, melding with the shadows of her room, the very little light in the room glinting off of his blonde head.

If she hadn’t seen the change him at the beginning of the year, she might be scared out of her wits right now. He was in his stalking face. She sat up on her bed, looking at him.

"What’s up, Spike?"

The vampire got down on his knees in order to see eye level with her. After the thing with Glory at the hospital, he’d walked the girls home, much to Xander’s dismay. < Haha! > had been Spike’s main thought. When Joyce had seen him walk in, she’d been startled. When he and Buffy grasped Dawn and pulled her in, she’d actually went up to him and hugged him.

Now Spike was the one freaking out.

"Can I ask you one thing, luv?" he began, not looking at Dawn.

Dawn shrugged. "Go ahead."

Spike lifted his eyes to her. "Could you an’ your mum not get so.... touchy-feely with me an’ all? I’m still the Big Bad, an’ a story gettin’ ‘round that Spike’s gotten soft on the Slayer’s mum and kid sis is gonna be murder on me, chip or no chip."

Dawn grinned. "I can’t promise you that I’ll stop with the mushy. I can get Mom to, but I can restrict myself to inside the house whenever you come around." She eyed him. "Which you will be doing a lot more, right?"

Spike smirked. "I concede nothin’. Stop bein’ such a nosy little nit. You nearly scared the Slayer to an early grave tonight, Bit."

The teenager looked down remorsefully. "I know. She knows I’m sorry, though, doesn’t she?"

Spike nodded. "Yeh, she knows. Don’t mean it’ll go away that easy. You’re gonna hafta build up a helluva lot of brass to get them to trust you again. You saw Joyce when you walked in. She nearly had a heart attack; she was bloody mollified seein’ you, all safe an’ sound." He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face up to meet his gaze. "Take it from me, pet. Don’t do things that you’ll regret, ‘specially to your mum. Believe me, you’ll feel like rippin’ out your own heart later on to make the hurt stop."

Dawn watched him. "I don’t suppose you’d want to talk about..."

He looked up sharply. "No. I wouldn’t."

She backed away meekly. "Okay, okay. Sorry."

Spike grunted, looking around the violet colored room. Hmph. Parental Advisory Warning label blown up fifty times its original size and stapled onto the wall. He liked this girl.

He stood up, then looked down at her. "One more thing, ‘fore I go."

She raised her eyes to him. "Yes?"

His hand grasped her arm and twisted it to the side, revealing the long, harsh cut from earlier, which was only now beginning to clot. Dawn winced and bit her lower lip, trying not to look at the wound. "Been cuttin’ yerself, haven’t you, pigeon?"

"Yes," she mumbled softly. She glanced up at Spike, frantically. "Please don’t tell Buffy or Mom. They both think that Glory did it to me at the hospital tonight. You won’t tell them, will you? Please don’t tell, Spike!"

The vampire sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head. He looked at her again after a moment. "Not a soul, luv. I won’t tell a soul."

A relieved smile appeared on Dawn’s face, and she threw herself at the vampire, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. "Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!" she squealed.

Spike growled, hugging her back reluctantly, then peeled her off of him. "What I tell you? Keep the lovey-dovey crap down to a minimum, dammit!"

Oh, like it mattered. Dawn was too damn happy right now to give a damn. She grinned brightly at him. "I will, I promise! Thank you, though! Thank you so much!"

Spike rolled his eyes, turning around and waving her away. "Yeah, yeah..." He closed the door to Dawn’s room and made his way down the hallway, looking at Joyce’s door. He listened, trying to discern if she was sleeping, then nodded his head as her heard her light breathing and soft snores. He turned toward Buffy’s room, then reeled slightly as he came face to face with her, standing in her doorway with a long black T-shirt on... Wait a minute, that was his... ohhhhh.

He smirked slightly. "You kept it, then? Was certain you would’ve tossed it on a pile of rubbish."

Buffy shrugged, looking down at herself. "Well... I have all these... strappy tops and blouses and stuff... I don’t own enough T-shirts. So I figured... what the hell, you know?"

Spike nodded slowly, gazing at her for a moment. "Yeah, I gotcha," he murmured softly. He would’ve given anything at that moment to pull her into his arms, kiss her breath away and tell her he loved her. Except that... he remembered he was supposed to be mad at her. Damn. He forced his gaze to harden.

"Well. Best be headin’ out. Got stuff to do tomorrow. Evil, an’ all that. Wouldn’t wanna get dragged into any plans of yours or anythin’. You know the kind. Where I’m trusted with somethin’ huge, then told I should’ve had no part to begin with?"

He really could be the King of Bluntness when he wanted to be.

Dammit, if that lower lip started trembling, he was gonna stake himself. Buffy looked up at him, ambivalently.

"I’m sorry about today, Spike. I’m in the wrong, I know." Spike crossed his arms, clearly expecting more. Buffy bit her lip and continued. "I was... rude, and... heartless with everything I said. I shouldn’t have been. You hit me a few home truths, and I reacted like a child. And I’m sorry. I’m really, REALLY sorry, and PLEASE for the love of God, say something or my head is gonna explode! Come on, Spike!"

Spike smirked at her, refusing to say a thing. Buffy stomped her foot, pouting. "Spike, come on, please! I’m sorry, I really am, you KNOW I am! I didn’t mean it, I was being stupid, and you were just trying to help! I know this, I know it all, now forgive me before I kick your ass all the way back to your crypt!"

Spike snorted and started laughing. "Well, how can a bloke resist an apology like that?" Buffy lower lip began to jut out and Spike growled. "All right, all right, I forgive you! Jesus... damn women..."

Buffy smiled at him then, taking his hand. She moved into his arms, resting her head on his chest. "Spike," she whispered softly. "I really am sorry."

Spike stared down at her and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and hugging her back tightly. "I know, luv," he whispered back into her hair, kissing the top of her head. She moved slightly and tilted her head up to kiss him softly, her lips gliding gently over his for a single moment.

"Spike?" she continued softly when she pulled away.

He tilted his head toward her. "Yeh?"

She bit her lower lip and chewed on it for a moment. Then: "Would... would you stay the night with me? No strings attached. No, uh..." she blushed. "No extracurricular activities or anything. Just... us." She peered up at him to see if he’d understood. "You know?"

He knew all too well. Wow. He nodded slowly, then kissed her again as she led him into her bedroom.

A moment later, the two were lying on Buffy’s bed, Spike on his back with Buffy slowly falling asleep on his chest. Her arm was draped across his waist, and her body was half on top of him, her head tucked neatly under his chin, and Spike in turn had one arm wrapped around her own tiny waist.

He’d never felt more comfortable in his life. This was... This was actually something. He actually had something here. He was here, with the Slayer. She was in his arms, falling asleep. This was what he’d been wanting the other night. To fall asleep with her at night, to wake with her in the morning, in his arms. It was real. It had become reality, and it was right. Nothing had ever felt more right before.

This was where he was supposed to be. Right here, with Buffy, Dawn and Joyce.

There’d been a change in him before, due to Tara’s kindness. With the exception of Buffy’s Watcher and Harris as Buffy’s surrogate brother figure, Spike was... accepted amongst the Scoobies. To the women of the group, Spike was one of them.

Maybe it was just his devilish grin and roguish good looks. Women went for bad boys -- wasn’t his fault.

He grinned to himself. < Just my pleasure. >

Ah, ah, ah. Not allowed to do that anymore. He had a... a thing now. He wasn’t sure what to call it. A relationship? An... understanding?

How the hell could he define this thing with the Slayer?

Anyway, he wasn’t allowed to hit on women anymore. He was... he was...

Oh, for Christ’s sake, he’d figure it out later. It didn’t matter right now. What did matter was the tiny woman lying in his arms, asleep. He looked down at her, noticing that her breathing had evened out, and she indeed was asleep.

He stared at her quietly for a moment, brushing a lock of blonde hair out of her face. Spike sighed, contemplating this... this oddity. He must be completely out of his head to be in love with her. But he was. And it felt so... incredibly... right.

He leaned down, kissing her mouth softly. It didn’t even matter to him anymore, if she claimed him back or not. He was in love with her. That was enough for him. And since she would probably shrink away with horror if he ever said it out loud to her face... this would be his only chance to say it to her face-to-face without being killed. Even though she wouldn’t hear it.

He leaned back, pulling her with him, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. "I love you, Buffy," he whispered softly, kissing her forehead. Finally, he allowed his head to fall back against the pillow.

From his vantage point, Buffy slept on. But inside Buffy’s brain, connections were being made, pieced together and registering with her, being shot up to the forefront of her mind.

The Slayer’s eyes slowly opened, then grew wide as Spike’s words forced their way through her foggy mind. She turned her eyes upward toward the ceiling, as if glaring at the very Powers themselves.

< Oh, very funny. >

Man... those guys had a sick sense of humor.

part 11

part 9

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