Title: Primary Source

Author: Jess

Rating: G (Sorry.)

Pairing: Dawn/Spike. No, not that way. Just friends.

Disclaimer: None of the characters contained herein belong to me. They belong to Mutant Enemy, UPN, WB, etc. I'm not making any profit off this.

Summary: Dawn's having trouble with secondary sources, so she goes to a primary source.

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*Why does history have to be so boring?* Dawn thought. She was sprawled on her stomach on her bed, trying to find just one interesting fact from the pile of books next to her for her due-in-two-days history project. She considered the cover of the next book, a large, dusty tome enticingly titled "A Generalized History of Britain - 1900-1950," and pushed it, and its fellows, onto the floor. The thump they made as they landed was very satisfying.

This, however, didn't solve her basic problem - where to start her project. She glanced again at the assignment sheet - *Write an essay from the point of view of a participant of World War Two. For example, a soldier, ambulance driver, nurse. Your character can be imaginary or real, but the essay must contain at least ten solid facts about the war*. Since when did the history teachers go into alliance with the english teachers? And why World War Two? America only came in after Pearl Harbour - the Civil War would be more relevant war to write about - if you cared about history, which Dawn didn't. *If only I didn't need to research, which is only interesting if it involves nasty demons, and could actually talk to someone who was actually there.*An evil smile crossed Dawn's face. She crossed to her window, tugged it up, and craned her head out until she could see the front garden. Sure enough, she could faintly make out pale hands and face, and the glowing cherry of a cigarette.

"Hsst, Spike!" she whispered. Spike looked up from where he was lurking under the oak tree.

"Little Bit? Shouldn't you be asleep by now?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Spike, it's only 10pm. And I have an essay due day after tomorrow. Sleep is a low priority, believe me. Get up here!"

Spike ground the butt of his cigarette out under his boot, and moved until he stood under her window. "And why should I do that, Pet?" he asked. "What would the Slayer think if she found me crawling through your window? I don't fancy being a pile of dust, thanks."

In reply, Dawn opened her eyes wide, giving him a sorrowful puppy-dog look. Spike shifted uneasily. When she threw in the patented Summers pout, he cursed, and started climbing up the drainpipe, muttering under his non- existent breath about Slayers, and their sisters, and getting soft. Once at the top, he slung his legs over the sill, and looked at Dawn.

"Well, why am I up here?" Dawn handed him the assignment. He quickly read it, and looked back at Dawn, who was standing in front of him, chewing her lower lip, and looking at him hopefully. "So, you think that just because you've left your little history project until the last minute, the Big Bad is going to drop everything to tell you all about the good old days?" Dawn nodded. Spike sighed in resignation. "Well, when Hitler got the war started in 1939, me an' Dru were causing some general mayhem in the south of England. 'Course that didn't last long once Dru heard about the war. Apparently Miss Edith wanted to see the pretty explosions."

~~~~

Two hours later, Spike was finishing up. ".and the war was over. Dru was very upset - she missed the blood 'n gore. Actually, so did I. She perked up a bit when she realised how many poor buggers were half out of their minds with shell shock. Spent a couple of years putting some out of their misery.." Spike stopped when he realised that Dru's 'mercy killings' probably weren't good for as-innocent-as-you-can-be-on-a-Hellmouth ears. He tilted his head back from his spot on the floor to see Dawn. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, a half-forgotten writing pad balanced on one knee, and a pen held loosely in one hand. She'd forgotten to keep taking notes about the third or fourth time Spike was describing battlefield gore in loving detail. Apart from an interruption when Buffy had poked her head in to say goodnight, and Spike had had to quickly roll under the bed to hide, Dawn had accumulated plenty of information for her essay.

Spike stood up and shook his duster back into place. "Well, pet, that's the end of our cherry little history lesson." He pointed a warning finger at her. "Don't go putting all that into your essay, y'hear? I don't want big sis coming for me after your teacher called her to say you're maladjusted, or summat." Dawn grinned at him. "I won't, I promise. Thanks sooo much." Standing, she quickly wrapped her arms around Spike and gave him a hug. He gave her a startled look. "Yeah, well.don't mention it." He shot her a quick smile, then turned and dropped out the window. Dawn reached it just in time to see a swirl of black duster as he walked down the street. She began to consider how to write her essay as she closed her window and pulled the shades. *I wonder how many of those gory scenes I can work into it.*