Title: In the Bag (It, Myself and I Series 1)

By: Chen

Disclaimer: All belong to ME (Grr! Argh!), not me.

A/N: Written shortly after Normal Again (S6 ep.17), this was based on some spoilage and a lot of speculation on my part.

-x-

He looked around and shook his head. When had his life become so pathetic? More important how had he, the Scourge of Europe, sunk so low?

The chip.

No mate, you can't blame the chip.

It wasn't the chip, it was her. It had been all about her from the moment he had seen the Slayer that first time.

He shoved another black T-shirt into the bag and stared at its contents. His life's possessions fit into a secondhand, frayed duffel bag.

It was time to do something about it.

"That's soddin' right!" The vehemence in his voice reverberated on the crypt's empty walls startling him.

That is how low he had sunk: talking to the walls.

So what if he had no idea if this was going to work? Clem had assured him this demon could fix the situation – if he was willing to prove himself worthy. That shouldn't be a problem, since he had by now two years of experience in trying to prove himself bleeding worthy.

With the problem taken care of he could work out the rest. He kept telling himself all he needed was to be his old self again. Almost believed it too.


"What's this?" Dawn had mastered the art of showing up in the crypt. Unlike her sister, she never barged in.

"What does it look like it? I'm packing." Maybe if he was curt he could avoid any more questions he couldn't and wouldn't answer.

"Duh! I know you're packing. What I want to know is why you're packing. Finally got an apartment or something?" Dawn stood by the sarcophagus in the crypt, waiting for an answer.

"Now, that would mean that I got myself an income. And I'm chipped, not housebroken." Spike continued avoiding the girl's eyes by looking for more things to shove inside the bag.


"So what's up then?"

"Packing. Leaving." He really cared for Dawn, but if there was ever a time he would rather be alone, that time would be now.


It took the girl a full beat before the unexpected news sunk in. "You can't leave! You promised to take care of me."

Spike stopped and walked over to the her, realizing that she would soon be as tall as he was. Almost a lady, but still with a little girl inside. "Nibblet." When she didn't look at him he insisted, "Dawn. Buffy is all better now. You don't need me around looking after you anymore. It's not like when big sis' was gone. You've got her here to take care of you now."

"Unless she's trying to kill us, she's never there." The teenager wasn't going to back down. "Plus you're much more fun to be around than she is." She reached out and held Spike by the arm, trying to make him stop feeding the beaten up duffel bag with the few belongings that had survived the lower level's explosion.

"I can't stay, pet. Don't ask me why. I just can't." Willow had been rightly upset at him after the antidote fiasco. All she had asked him to do was make sure Buffy drank it all. Simple task even the whelp could have carried through. But she hadn't asked Harris, she had asked him. And had *he* done it? No, sir. He had gotten so miffed over Buffy's masochist trip that he had lost his temper, said a few hard truths, made a nice little threat and then left in a righteous huff. The consequences were that the stupid Slayer didn't drink the bleeding antidote and had almost served the Scoobies and Dawn as
supper to the demon in the basement.

"I know why you can't stay. It's Buffy, isn't it?" Dawn's eyes flashed with anger. "She did something to you? She was not herself you know. It was the poison Spike. Please stay."

Her pleading voice almost broke his resolve, but he reminded himself that Dawn could have gotten killed. And he would be damned if he was going to stay around and be responsible for something bad happening to his girls again.

No, he told himself, once had been enough. There was nothing left to put in the bag now. No use procrastinating the inevitable.

"Don't blame your sis' for this, Lil' Bit! I know what I'm doing, mind me for once! Will you now?" He controlled his anger and softened his tone of voice, "I just have to do this. And it's not forever. I'm coming back." He zipped the bag shut and held the keys to the De Soto in his hands. Walking to the door of the crypt, Spike saw the sun was about to set on Sunnydale. "You should be running along now, pet. The sun will set soon and there are a lot of nasties out there."

Dawn walked to the door and stood next to him. "Are you going to come over to the house? At least to say goodbye?"

Buffy. He wasn't willing to test his resolve against a temptation of that sort. Not trusting himself to turn and look at her, he instead just stared straight ahead. "Not much for saying good-bye."

"Fine." Dawn picked up her backpack, managing to convey all her resentment and anger as only a fifteen year old could.

Spike smiled at the petulant tone of voice. Good, she was angry. Anger was better than sadness. Anger he could deal with. "Run along then."

He stood there and watched the tall girl stomp her way out of the crypt. It was too early for any real danger, but still, he felt a tugging in his insides. Worry. Concern. Guilt. Love. All of those feelings were making his chest tighten as he watched her go.

No looking back, remember? Don't be a poof. Just shut the door. Just go.

Spike told the voice to shut the hell up, as he continued to watch Dawn crisscrossing the tombstones. "Goodbye Dawn. You and Buffy... Take care of each other." He turned and picked the bag from the floor. Spike could hardly make her shape in the distance, when he whispered, "I love you Nibblet."