Special Thanks goes out to Tempestt on EF who not only sent out the challenge but also read over the chapter and gave me feedback and notes.

The first time Spike sees her it's when he's about to leave with Buffy to take down Angelus for good.

Sure he has heard about her from his minions (or former minions now) and has had to endure hours of The Poof describing what he'd like to do to her, stuff that even made his skin crawl.

He's sitting on the front step listening to the Slayer and her mum having it out over her calling when he hears a thump above his head and sees her shimmying down one of the posts. He snorts because she thinks she's being sneaky but then he notices they aren't along, one of Angelus little lap dogs started towards her from across the street. Coward was trying to come at Buffy through her kid sister, bloody bastard.

"Hey there, Nibblet. Little ones aren't supposed to be out after dark cause nasty things go bump in the night".

She squeaked and fell arse first onto one of the bushes but quickly jumps up a throws her tiny fists in front of her, a fighting stance for someone who had never fought. He grinned as she looked just as determined as her big sis. Then he remembers the minion, pulls out a stake and reduces him to ash before the bloke can declare that "he dies for Angelus" or some sort of other rubbish like it.

The fearful look on her fave was replaced by embarrassment and then replaced with preteen anger and spat out "And who the heck are you?".

This little thing needed to be taught a lesson, going off like she was, and to a fellow who just saved her life at that. The smile melted away to a look of steel and seriousness as he replied, "I'm one of those nasty things…" and he let his demon face come to the fore.

The little girl tilted her head to the side and just as quick as fear was shown it disappeared into a sense of wonder "You would think being the sister of the slayer I would have seen a vamp face or two but no… they think I'm a kid and can't handle all the extra stuff… but I listen … but I've snuck her books and diaries… but they were nothing like this … let me touch it …. Hi my name is Dawn … What's yours?"

Spike rolls his eyes but humors her as she touches his face and mouth, feeling the grooves and points. He shook his head and swatted her hands away "The name is Spike … and I'm a bloody vampire … how do you know I'm not going to kill you?" He demanded.

She moved her hands to his cheeks and looked him square in the eye matter-of-factly, "Cause you are a vampire and if you were going to kill me, I'd already be dead" her tone held no fear, no innocence it was cold and it was hard and it was absolute, but just as quickly as she spoke the look and tone dissolved into an ever present smile.

He couldn't help it … he liked the girl and her strange, ever changing demeanor … in all his history and travels he had never met a slayer with a sibling and now he knew why…even when sheltered away from everything … just enough of the slayer lifestyle slipped through and tainted her innocence just ever so slightly … she was a little girl who every once and a while was too old for her age.

"Well what if I was lulling you into a false sense of security and wanted you for a midnight snack? " Spike retorted. "You don't seem like that kinda guy, Spike" She smiled.

"Is that so?" he dropped his smoke on the stairs and ground it with his boot.

"What's your real name, Spike?" She sat beside him and looked up into the sky. "Why can't it be Spike?" He shot back with an incredulous look on his face. "A mom doesn't name her son Spike, that's a nickname … like my mom calls me Dawnie but my real name is Dawn" she stated not making eye contact but nodding her head like the entire world should agree with her. "William, my real name is William" Spike shrugged, giving up letting this girl lead her conversation wherever she wanted.

Dawn: Why are you on my porch?

Spike: Helping the slayer with her poof problem

Dawn: Are you talking about Angel

Spike: Yeah.

Dawn: He's an idiot.

Spike: Out of the mouths of babes

Dawn: You don't like him.

Spike: Rather have blinding syphilis than hear him speak.

Dawn: what's syphilis?

Spike: Ask your mother … better yet, ask your sister.

Dawn: OK … so how old are you anyway?

Spike: Old

Dawn: Like caveman old or my mom old?

Spike: Old

Dawn: Do you have a girlfriend?

Spike: For my entire unlife

Dawn: I hate boys

Spike: They probably don't like you much either

Dawn: why?

Spike: you talk too much.

Dawn: and you use way too much bleach there, Ken…. So do you have any kids?

Spike: Not bloody likely

Dawn: Why?

Spike: I'm really debating the "not draining you dry" clause in this moment

Dawn: Come onnnnnn…

Spike: I'm a vampire, ya bint , can't have kids.

Dawn: Didn't you ever want any?

Spike was stopped dead in his tracks from any retort by the absurd thought. Of course he had wanted kids when he was William, He had dreamed of settling down with Cecily and having an entire brood of strapping boys and little ladies. He looked at the little bit and wondered if that was what his little ones would have looked like. Would they have driven him this barmy with their incessant talk and rebellion. Mother would have had none of that and boxed their ear properly. He chuckled and realized he hadn't even thought of anything William thought about since that night with Dru in the alley a long time ago.

What the bloody hell was this little bint doing? There was no need to make him think of that prancing ponce, that educated wanker who was full of dreams and hope and bloody awful poetry. He glanced off-hand at the girl in just that moment and hated her for dredging up something he thought he had burned away a long long time ago … his humanity.

Dawn paused for a moment, noting his quietness, and they sat there in silence for a while both looking up at the same sky.

It was like she could sense something heavy as she took a deep breath and looked at him quizzically.

"Do you like fairy tales, Spike?" "I'm too old for em" he replied

"You're never too old for a good story" She sighed, "Anyway, there's this one story I like to read. It's about this man who was so sad and mad and lonely that it twisted his body and made him a beast. Now a lot of people thought he was hideous and a monster and for years he just believed he was because they said it. Then a pretty girl came along and for some reason she just believed in him and after some convincing the beast went away and at he became a hero"

"See… too old for that rubbish" he snickered and lit up another smoke.

Dawn sighed and rolled her eyes as she continued, "My point is that I never liked Angel, and I don't just mean that he sucked face with my sister, which was gross by the way, but I never felt right around him, like there was a monster wearing his face … and unfortunately for my family and Buffy's friends… I was right"

She got quiet for a moment and looked at her shoes.

"But you … and I've heard about you and read about you... it's a great thing having a group of people who forget you are there when they are researching the beastie of the week and you have access to a photocopier ….. I was just asking those questions to make sure…" She looked up at him and it hurt her a little bit that his face had fallen a bit.

Spike lowered his head, he couldn't look her in the eye, He had talked about how being the sister of the slayer had made her mature and maybe be a little bit more numb to the evils of the world, when he was one of the evils she had been exposed to.

"You've lived your whole life as a monster whose reputation is full of death and blood but you still took the time to warn me, still took the time to save me, the sister of the doofus born to kill you. You are sitting here on my porch, about to run off and save the world when you aren't even supposed to have a soul. You've killed two slayers and the books portray you as an evil soulless thing and you may have done all those things but the guy sitting on my porch, about to protect my sister and my mother and me and the entire world … He's the hero at the end of the book … if he wants to be".

No sooner had she finished her rant Spike was taken off guard my her slamming into him with a hug. She said nothing but squeezed and for a moment Spike thought she channeled a bit of her sister into it. His arms didn't move, he was frozen as she hugged and then she slipped back in the door quickly without saying another word.

He lit a smoke, took a deep, unneeded breath and looked up into the sky. And somewhere in the back of his mind wept William for the beast he had become.

Cargo planes to Brazil weren't the best way to travel but Spike did not like the feeling in his gut. It felt like brick and it was heavy.

Damn Nibblet, putting these thoughts in his head; Appealing so much to his inner ponce that he was now feeling guilty for leaving Buffy to face Angelus. It was ridiculous … ludicrous even that he would even be considering the idea of pity for the damn Slayer. Besides, he knew she could take the ponce. He had killed two of them so he knew well enough that the blonde cheerleader was the stuff Slayer legend was written about.

This one had family and friends; she had a reason for being other than the slaying, so the inevitable death wish was pushed to the back of the mind. Not that the ponce Watchers would realize that, that would go against tradition … never mind the fact that as a rookie this one had killed both Liberace-Lovin Lothos and Old Bat Face and they were both older than dirt. This slayer wasn't even that bad. Spike had watched her fight and fought her dozens of times and the amount of energy and focus were belied with her tiny frame and damned valley girl attitude.

Fighting her was like an exquisite dance of fist and fang that got him aching in all the right places. Getting lost in your opponent and flying at each other like well-oiled killing machines. She was slicked in sweat and smelled like honey and vanilla and the fire in her eyes would have burned him to ash if they were literal. Damn, thinking about this made him wonder that the only thing better than killing a slayer would be fu….

Spike jumped off his box like he had been covered in sunshine with that very thought. What the bloody buggering hell was THIS? First the little morsel makes him feel like he could be a Prince Charming and now he was thinking of Summers …. No … THE SLAYER…. Like he wanted to take her out for a sody pop and a hard shag?! More like wine her, dine her, and break her bloody neck. He was WILLIAM THE BLOODY …. SLAYER OF SLAYERS; One of The Whirlwind and the unloving death of two bloody slayers. He was the BIG BAD.

He needed to wake up Dru . Bloody tragedy that he had to knock her out because being left alone with his own thoughts was apparently dangerous. They would be in Brazil by the next sunset and then he could forget all about SunnyHELL and the Slayer and her friends and family and he and his dark princess could eat their fill of pretty girls in pretty dresses and live bloodily ever after.

He punched a shipping container until his knuckles were dripping blood to block out his thoughts until he dropped panting into the sweet oblivion of his daylight sleep.

Brazil – One Week Later ** a/n - Dialogue taken from s5 ep "Fool for Love" **

Drusilla: Why can't you kill her?

Spike: You're the one who keeps bringing her up! I haven't said a word about the bloody Slayer since we left California. She's on the other side of the planet, Dru!

Drusilla: But you're lying! I can still see her floating all around you, laughing. Why? Why won't you push her away?

Spike: But I did, pet. I did it for you. You keep punishing me. Carrying on with creatures like this. Chaos

Demon: Okay, you guys obviously have a thing going on here.

Drusilla: I have to find my pleasures, Spike. You taste like ashes.

Spike: So this is my fault now?

Chaos Demon: I didn't know she was seeing somebody. I should take off.

Spike: Yeah, why don't you do that?

Drusilla: You can't blame a girl, Spike. You're all covered with her. I look at you... all I see is the Slayer. -

Spike was mad; he was exceptionally, full-tilt, brassed off beyond all belief. He had went for a walk for about an hour and came back with his boots covered in scuffs, antler chips, brain matter and slime and thought he was feeling alright but after a smoke and twisting off a few minions heads he was just even more mad that his boots would now definitely need a good clean and polish.

He thought Dru would be all fine and good once she had her pout but she was still mad as all hell. "What can I do to make it up to my Dark Princess? " He said in a faux sad voice with a pout playing on his lips "Spikey hates it when his lady is mad at him."

She still looked cross but Spike could tell an idea had popped into her head when she smiled like the cat that ate the canary and sighs a breath of relief.

"My prince needs to beg for forgiveness on a snack of copper tea and sweet cakes." She said it so sweetly and then turned almost petulant in tone as she continued "And my dark knight must be greedy and gobble it all up until there is nothing left for Edith and Princess' forgiveness".

Spike grinned happily, she wanted him to show her that he was still a monster … her monster … and he would eat his way through a whole orphanage just to please his lady. Bring on the blood feast. Dru rang a bell and stomped her foot and stayed in place and the minions dragged his dinner in, poor shabby looking thing. Spike shrugged internally and thought this happy meal on legs looked a little dirty and worse for the wear but if it makes his Dru happy, he'd stomach it.

He slowly sunk to his knees and moved her matted hair from her neck. The little street rat's skin tasted like she hadn't washed in weeks but as soon as his teeth sunk in it was like bliss. What had Dru bloody done to this sweet morsel, this was bliss. He hadn't had anything like this since … since ... The Boxer Rebellion …

His mouth flew away from that neck like an electric current was shooting through his head and he looked into the baby blues that had just a short while ago filled him with feelings he thought dead. His gut wrenched and his head swam; the life blood that once felt so good going down felt like acid that his stomach needed to rid itself of. He stumbled back almost drunkenly and his eyes met those of his princess.

They bore into him with a fury he had never thought possible from her.

"You worm, you waste of the undead gift I have given you. You were the slayer of slayers but you are nothing and were nothing but that pitiful fool I met in that alley. If I knew that the effulgence you were so desperately seeking was the slayer I would have torn your throat out!"

"But… Dru…." Spike could barely recognize his beautiful sire. Her demon face fully brought forth in a hateful, distain-filled grimace that at his words slipped into a look of almost nerve shattering calmness.

"The pixies always told me you would eventually betray me and I would brush them away and shush them. I would tell them that my Spike would never stray like the naughty little lamb that was daddy. But Miss Edith never stopped looking at you from the corner of her eye, whispering of your Judas ways. But princess will forgive her dark knight if he just has this little snack. Please darling, for me?", She sing-songed as she danced around him, caressing and enticing him.

If it was for Dru, his love, there was nothing he would not do; Even if he had to do it with lead pressing down on his undead heart. He dropped down on his knees and surveyed the girl's fail frame slowly.

She looked so pitiful, covered in mire and barely breathing, her frame twisted delicately with one arm splayed to her side and the other twisted uncomfortably beneath her.

He got into game face and started making the decent to her carotid.

He was stopped by a hand on his cheek and he lifted his eyes to join that of the barely conscious girl. Her voice cracked and crinkled from exhaustion and dehydration.

"I knew you would come… I knew when they came for me that Buffy was probably gone … and so I prayed for you… I prayed and prayed and prayed… and you came… just like the story …I knew it" Her eyes glistened and she looked at him with such happiness and wonder in them, like he was as bright and shining as the sun brought down to earth.

He couldn't.

He wouldn't.

He suddenly felt himself flying through the air and slamming into one the pillars.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to do it. Not even to please your princess. The only one man enough was daddy. Oh, how we laughed at you, my little puppy, my lap dog. As I writhed in ecstasy under him, we laughed at you. Whispers and murmurs but after a century of disappointment, he pleased me. More than you ever could. And now, I will have to please myself due to your short comings."

Dru didn't even look at him and the pain she wrought upon him with her venomous words she just kept on advancing towards the prone girl.

"Dru … please …. If these last hundred years … if my undying love and devotion … meant even a little to you … I beg you… don't kill the girl … I can get you a million pretty dresses with a million pretty girls in them … just leave the bit be!" He shouted through glassed eyes.

She paused and turned to look at him. She shifted out of game face and raised her face to look upon him with a look of pure arrogance and impassiveness washed over her human mask. "And THAT is what makes her blood all the much sweeter…. You're nothing to me, William. You're beneath me."

Spike went back a hundred years as he fled the room and collapsed in a grungy Brazilian alley.

Drusilla grinned a Cheshire-like grin as she descended once more. She would take her leave of him after she drank her fill of this conquest.

Daddy destroyed the Slayer, of this she was sure and she would take the one that was the potential. The one that would one day aspire to what her sister was. The fairies had whispered it into her ear, sung of the girl made of the blood that would years from now become… she would snuff out the light of the almost chosen.

She was so pleased with herself she didn't see the girl move as fast as she did and couldn't stop the wood that she now felt imbed in her heart.

The chunk of wood that the girl had pulled from the crate that was her prison and held onto so tightly that it made her hand bleed and so hidden that she had almost broken her arm to conceal it tucked underneath her as she lay on the floor. The words fell from her lips without thought.

"I have no speech. No name. I live in the action of death, the blood cry, the penetrating wound. I am destruction. Absolute... Alone."

The last word ever whispered by Drusilla was not even heard by the girl as it came from a voice that was already dust.

"Slayer"

And the determined look of a killer made way for that of a half dead little girl as she slipped into the oblivion of unconsciousness.