Going On

by

Princess McPhee

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's Note: I said I was going to explain 'The Past Does Haunt'. Well, I am, it's just been forever. So, I apologize for the long wait!

Author's Note 2: This is OPENLY Spike/Dawn. Don't read if you have a problem.

Summary: After Buffy dies, life goes on. Prequel to 'The Past Does Haunt'. S/D

Rating: PG

Everything is different with Buffy dead. School is out for the university students, and though Willow and Tara had originally planned to take summer courses to fill their time, they find that neither of them has the heart to do it, now. Dawn isn't out for a while, so she goes to school despite the tragedy. The world can't find out what the Scoobies know, if they do, Dawn's safety is in jeopardy.

She spends a lot of time at Spike's. Even with the threat of Glory gone, she doesn't feel nearly as safe anywhere else. It's somewhat physical, but more emotional. Spike is the only one that she's close to that's left now, the only one who has promised to be there for her always. Yet sometimes she does go to his crypt to cower in his lap. She's only fourteen, and she's been in mortal danger for a year, always trying to look in every direction at once. It's a lot for a young girl to take in.

Fall arrives too soon, and Dawn is fifteen. Everyone realizes that Buffy isn't coming back at once, and the thought hits them with terrifying finality. Dawn had long since given up real hope, but the tiniest spark had always lingered. Finally, on the 90th day that her sister has been gone, she just suddenly gets it, and runs, tears streaming down her face, to Spike.

Willow and Tara go back to school, taking as many classes as they can possibly cram in. The Buffybot ploy will only work for so long, and everyone hopes to head off disaster rather than waiting for it to happen, but there is no one qualified to take over Dawn's guardianship. The witches are still technically dependants themselves in the eyes of social services, going to school on their parents' money. Xander and Anya are living together, not married, and though they would hide this for Dawn's sake, are too young to be seriously considered.

Giles is still, amazingly enough, not a citizen. He tries to get his papers in order, only to find that it's hopeless. Willow revises the Buffybot again, and tries to keep the social service workers fooled. They are suspicious, but there is nothing openly wrong, so they don't make a move.

One day near Christmas, Dawn arrives at Spike's crypt to find him packing. "Where are you going?" She asks in near panic. "It's almost Christmas!"

The vampire drops his things and takes her in his arms, knowing that her panic is due to the possibility of facing Christmas without either her mother or her sister, and then without him. "I've got to go on a... business trip," He tells her. "I promise I'll be back by Christmas."

"But... what if there's a delay? What if you get hurt while you're gone? What if Glory comes back?"

Spike strokes her hair, and tries to reassure her. "I might not get home until 11:59 on December 24th, Bit, but I'll be here for Christmas. You know I keep my promises. And I can take care of myself, remember?" He pushes Dawn's chin up gently with a finger. "Okay?" She nods reluctantly.

"As for you, the witches can take care of you. I promise. And Glory's gone. She's never coming back." Spike speaks with such utter confidence that Dawn feels she has no choice but to believe him. Without looking up, she nods again into his chest. "Okay," She replies reluctantly.

Cautiously, Spike peels her away from him and sets her down on the couch. She sits there, hands in her lap, just watching him. "Where are you going?"
He looks over at her, and resumes stuffing the most minimal amount of things possible to survive on into his tiny duffel. "Nowhere bad. Actually, it's a surprise for you."

"Really?" Dawn asks, perking up a bit. He smiles back at her, encouraging the bit of enthusiasm so rarely seen in the scarred teenager.

"Really."
Spike leaves on December 12th, Dawn knows. She keeps careful track and counts the days as they go by. She doesn't worry until December 16th. She knows he's traveling only at night and in a beat-up, ancient car. It's bound to be a little slow.

By the 20th, she's not worried, but a little anxious. Always a little more jumpy than usual, a bit on edge. She doesn't worry because she knows Spike always keeps his promises, but every once in a while, when she's feeling down, she thinks about the fact that Spike made a promise that wasn't his to make; things could injure him without his permission. But she tries not to get too worked up, Spike says she does that far too much, anyway.

At nine o'clock on the 22nd, she's certain she was never more happy to hear a doorbell in her life. She throws it open, and there is Spike, looking fine, in fact, he looks more than fine, she thinks. He looks happy. For the first time since Buffy's death, he doesn't have a pained expression on his face. She jumps on him, and he grabs her around the waist, obviously thrilled to see her, too. "Sorry I took so long, Niblet," He tells her. "But I promise you'll like it."

She smiles. "I know I will." Then, impatient, she slides from his grasp, and puts her hands on her hips. "When do I get to see it?"

Spike gives a mysterious smirk. "Not 'til Christmas," he says.

"Spike!" She whines, but he's firmly set in his decision.

"Christmas morning," He tells her. "First thing."

She pouts, but nods. "Okay." She opens the door wider, and ushers him in. "Want to play Monopoly? I whipped Willow and Tara's butts at the last game!"

Spike grins. "I'm sure you did, pet."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Spike still can't stop grinning. He's so happy. Plus, his Niblet looks adorable, trying to be all frizzed up at him while she's still so happy to see him that she can't keep her eyes off him.

"Nothin' pet, nothin'."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christmas eve, Spike helps Willow, Tara and Dawn put up their tree. Xander and Anya come over to share dinner, Giles a little later, and then they all sit quietly, talking softly in the light of the tree. Multicolored spots mark the bulbs, but in dark room, the overall color is sort of a rosy glow. It's a comfortable atmosphere, and even though sadness is in the air that Buffy and Joyce aren't around to see this, comradery is also thick.

Giles is going back to England two days after Christmas, and everyone is a little tense with emotion about the impending loss. Though Buffy's been gone seven months now, it still seems like yesterday, and it's hard to think of losing another. But they'll manage, they always do. And Giles is right to leave, Dawn knows. He doesn't have a life here in Sunnydale. Without a Slayer to watch, there's nothing for him to do.

He's selling the shop to Anya. Xander's chipping in, but says he wants nothing to do with the store. He knows it means a lot to the ex-demon, though, so he helps pay the loan bills. Between the Magic Box and Xander's carpentry skills becoming more and more known, they will live comfortably. Dawn just wishes that Buffy could see this. She knows that her sister would be so proud of what her friends have become.

Spike sleeps in her bed that night. They've done this before, right after Buffy jumped, but not since then. Dawn's hips are widening, her breasts are fuller than half a year ago. She's still lanky and too-tall, but Spike can see the outline of a beautiful woman in her, and it's hard to be this close. As much as he doesn't want to let it, the slight sexual tension is starting to dictate parts of their relationship.

But tonight, Buffy's gone, Joyce is gone, and everyone has a partner except Spike and Dawn. So when she crept down the stairs at 11:45 with tears running down her cheeks, Spike gladly took her offer to sleep in her bed. They snuggle close together, and their reciprocal pain makes it easy to ignore any tension that might otherwise build.

When Christmas morning dawns, Willow and Tara are the first out of bed. They fix breakfast and put on cheery faces, but their mood is somber. Spike awakens fifteen minutes later to the smell of heated blood, something the witches have learned to do without question since he's been around so much. Shaking Dawn a little, he pulls her out of bed with him, and they go downstairs without speaking a word.

It's still dark outside, and though they turn the lights on in the kitchen to cook, they leave the lights off in the living room, and the shining tree is their only illumination. They eat as they open presents, and though they feel a bit lonely without their respective families, the presents improve the mood of the day, and a few smiles start coming out.

There is one present that lays untouched under the tree as Willow opens her last gift. Dawn has been handing out the presents, but Spike refused to let her touch that one. "Save it for the end," He tells her, again and again. She pouts, but obeys, and it's the last thing left at the end of the morning.

The sun lights the room now, heavy curtains keeping it from burning Spike, but letting the golden rays illuminate the Summers' living room to some extent. The package is flat and gray, a bit bigger than the size of a piece of paper. It's wrapped carefully and with white ribbon, and the little card on the top is plain. Spike hands it to Dawn, and tells her to open it now. She smiles, and does so, somehow sensing that this is one she should be careful with.

A box comes from inside. It's like a shoe box, only thinner and wider, and she pulls the top off eagerly. Inside are a bunch of official-looking documents. Dawn looks up at the vampire, her face wrinkled in confusion. He gestures towards the papers, indicating she should look again. "Read it," He suggests.

She picks up the first sheet of paper, and her heart flies into her mouth when she sees her name. Then she sees the social services stamp, and butterflies fill her stomach, making her wish she hadn't eaten so much breakfast. What good could possibly come from social services? she wonders. They've only been a problem until now. But Spike wouldn't give her papers full of bad news on Christmas morning, especially not wrapped up like this, so she reads on.

Willow and Tara watch as her eyes grow wide and her body gets tense. They jump when she shrieks in what appears to be pure joy, and jumps on Spike. The vampire has the biggest grin on his face the witches can ever remember seeing, and Willow and Tara just watch in puzzlement.

Tears are streaming down Dawn's face, but they are happy tears, and Spike smiles as he wipes them away. "Like it?" He asks.

Dawn smiles tenderly at her best friend. "Like it? It's the best present anyone has ever given me, Spike."

He returns her gentle smile with one of his own, and kisses her forehead. "I'm glad, Niblet."

Suddenly, something comes over Dawn. "But this means..."

Spike's face goes somber. "Yeah, pet, it does."

"When?"

"'Bout two weeks ago. Giles arranged it."

Dawn nods, sadness apparent in her face, and Spike caresses the sides of her cheekbones gently. "I'm sorry, pet, for bringing this up on Christmas."

Dawn looks up at him. "No! Spike, you just gave me a wonderful thing. And Buffy's gone. It had to happen someday."

He nods. "I guess it did."

Willow finally pipes up. "Excuse the interruption, but what's going on?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn grins. "They're my guardianship papers, Willow," She says.

Willow looks at them, from Spike to Dawn, and then back. "They're what?"
"They're her guardianship papers, Red. I had some things forged, then Giles reported Buffy's death a couple 'o weeks ago. It's all legal. Well, except for the document forging. Now we don't have to worry about anyone coming to take Dawnie away from us."

Willow took a moment to let that sink in, and then she shrieked and jumped on Dawn. "God, Dawnie! That's great!"

Dawn hugged her back, but looked a little puzzled. "You're not mad?" She asked.

"Why would I be mad?"
"Because... you don't trust Spike."

Willow pulled away from her just enough so that the teenager could see her eyes. "I do, Dawn. With some things. And you are one of those. I truly believe that Spike has your best interests at heart, and I know he would never hurt you."

Dawn smiled a little. "Thank you, Willow," She said softly.

"Sure, kiddo."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn's sixteenth birthday is in a week. Spike's rented the Bronze, something that she didn't know was even possible, and bought the hugest assortment of food she's ever seen. The cake is four feet long and half as wide. She asks, laughing, what it's all for. He says that he figured she'd want to have the Bronze open that night, and that way everyone who was there would just automatically be her party guest. She grins at him and tells him she thinks that's a wonderful idea. Then she puts on a serious face, and tells him that he's not allowed to terrorize any of her party 'guests' no matter how low-life they are, unless there's a real reason. "And groping anybody up, even me, isn't a reason, unless the girl is trying to get away," She lectures.

Spike nods, even though the pictures that brings to mind are close to too much to bear. His little Niblet is growing up, and he can't keep her in the dark forever. Besides, Buffy was running around with his sire when she was Dawn's age, and Spike is sure that the Hellmouth can't produce anything worse, at least anything human and worse, than that. He resolves to let Dawn be foot-loose and fancy-free at her party, even if he does have to hold her hair back while she pukes the morning after. Not too many sixteen-year-olds have parties with their guardian around, and since he has to be there to keep her safe, he's going to do his best to let her pretend that he's not.

The night of the party, Dawn is so incredibly wound up that Spike's never sure where she even is from moment to moment. Sometimes she goes dashing past him, trying to fasten an earring and keep up with her friend at the same times, sometimes she's attempting to put her makeup on while Willow fixes her hair, sometimes she's talking on the phone while dressing. She's a whirlwind of motion, and Spike loves every second of it.

They make it to the Bronze just after the sun goes down, to start setting up. With Dawn's birthday in July, that makes it around nine o'clock, so they put things together as quickly as possible, and open the doors at nine forty-five. People spill in quickly, and Dawn gets asked to dance by more than one boy from school, and the occasional one from college. Spike grits his teeth, and just watches.

There's alcohol there, alright, but Dawn doesn't drink it. She doesn't appear to be actively refusing it, she just hasn't been offered any. Spike takes a few swigs when it comes by, trying to calm the feelings of a need to decapitate someone when a guy dances too close to his girl. But Dawn is laughing and swinging around on the dance floor and loving every single second, so Spike drinks more, and tries to not notice.

He finally stops himself, remembering that he can't protect the Niblet if he's too drunk to walk.

The party wraps up around two am, when Willow and Tara appear and insist that Dawn shoo people away. This is later than the Bronze is usually open, and it will take some time to clean things up, so reluctantly, she complies. Everyone isn't out the door until forty-five minutes later, though, and by then, Spike is completely sober and damning vampire constitutions.

The witches offer to clean up, and Spike and Dawn go home. When they get there, Dawn changes and reappears on the landing in her pajamas, yawning. Spike goes up the stairs and follows her into her room to kiss her on the cheek and say good-night as he always does. Tonight, though, as he goes to kiss her, she changes the angle of her face quickly, and he catches her lips. Fire shoots through both of them.

He pulls away quickly. "No."

Dawn nods, and looks at the wall. He tries to explain himself, knowing that he's hurt her feelings. "This isn't right, Dawn. I'm your guardian, and I'm about a hundred and twenty years older than you."

She nods again, but doesn't respond.

"Bloody hell, Dawn, I'm trying to do the right thing!"

She doesn't even nod this time. Spike grabs her shoulders, pulls her around to face him, and kisses her soundly. She's surprised at first, but reacts quickly, putting such enthusiasm into the kiss that it almost masks her lack of experience. Spike lets her continue it until she's gasping for air, and then pulls away. "Is that what you wanted, Dawn?" He asks a little angrily.

Her eyes twinkle, though confusion is evident in her gaze. "Yeah."

Spike stomps out of the room, thoroughly puzzled and feeling that his hormones are betraying him in the worst possible way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few months, Spike refuses to let anything like that happen again. Dawn doesn't attempt anything further after a few spurned attempts, and he's glad. They go about their lives like nothing happened that night, and no one notices. But Spike is watching her carefully, wondering what's changed since he came into her life three years before. Well, he'd been in her life before, but he'd been trying to kill her sister, so it didn't count.

Every time he looks at her, the first thing he sees is a goddess. The goddess is radiant, usually laughing, her dark brown hair always smooth and long, without a tangle anywhere. Her eyes are deep and rich, and seem like they could see into a person's soul, if he had one to see. Her legs are slim, her hips are gently padded, and she's grown to fill a B-cup bra. He knows this because he does their laundry. She's grown into her body, and is no longer clumsy or lanky, but a child in a woman's body. Or at least, that's what he tells himself.

Then, he blinks, and she's just Dawn again. Beautiful, yes. Womanly, yes. Grown up, yes. Alluring? Well, that's a harder question to answer. Spike isn't sure if his sexually-charged body is simply reacting to being so close to a person of the opposite gender, or if there's actual attraction to Dawn, the person. And until he figures that out, he's not going to let anything happen.

He keeps watching her, hoping that if he does so long enough, he'll start to understand what happens to him when she looks at him a certain way. He's not sure he will, but he can't think of any other way to try.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's November 5th when something changes. Dawn comes home from school, and there's a different feeling about her. Spike keeps it to himself, not wanting to worry her unnecessarily, but he tries hard to come up with a description for the feeling he has. And finally he does. He feels power. Raw, untrained, but tremendous power. Something has given Dawn that power.

He calls Giles and learns his worst nightmare. The Slayer who replaced Buffy is dead. She died today, while Dawn was at school. And none of the council's candidates have been called.

He tells Giles to get on the first flight to Sunnydale.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Watcher shows up in the morning, before Dawn goes off to school. Surprised as she is to see him, she nonetheless throws herself in his arms, and hugs him tightly. Giles grunts, and she eases up a little. "Oh, sorry! I'm just so glad to see you! What are you doing here? Do I have to go to school, Spike?"

Spike shakes his head, and Giles has a troubled look on his face. "I think we'd better have a talk," the Watcher says, and Dawn looks from one somber face to the other.

"Okay... this isn't going to be a happy talk, is it?" She says. They shake their heads, and she sighs, too used to strange things happening. "What is it?"

Giles leads them into the living room, and sits her down on the couch. Spike takes the chair across from them. Dawn just looks from one face to the other and back again. "Spit it out," She tells them.

Giles looks at his hands, and then speaks, carefully and slowly. "Dawn... the Slayer died yesterday morning."

Dawn cocks her head and shrugs. "Okay."

"There is a new Slayer called within seconds of the death of the last."

Dawn just looks at him, urging the Watcher to get on with it.

"She is you."

Dawn's jaw drops open, and she doesn't speak for a long moment.

"Dawn?"

"I'm what?"

"The Slayer."

She stands, and walks towards the weapons case. "No. I'm not. Buffy could kick down doors and fight vampires and punch in walls, I can't even lift her battle-axe!" For emphasis, she throws open the top of the chest and tries to heft the axe. It comes easily, and she almost hits herself with it. Looking down at it, she stares in shock, and the only sound that escapes her lips is a startled "Oh."

Dawn starts her training the next day. Giles moves back to Sunnydale with mixed feelings, but knowing that after observing Buffy's eclectic style, she is liable to frustrate to death any other Watcher. And, indeed, she behaves very similarly to her sister. She wants to be normal, as normal as she can, while at the same time, accepting the fact that her Slayer duties have to come first. She is stubborn and loving and exasperating, and moment by moment, month by month, Giles remembers why he loves being a Watcher so much.

In January, she is seriously hurt for the first time on patrol.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike goes with her whenever she goes out, and though she reminds him of Buffy, he never ceases to see the differences. If he only saw the similarities, he knows, he would drive himself insane, and belittle the importance of her calling to Dawn. Sometimes, he knows, she still thinks that she was called only because there is Slayer blood in her veins. He reminds her that there was a Slayer before her and after Buffy, but she still feels like maybe her skills aren't her own to have, they're just part of Buffy like her existence is.

The vampire and Slayer are fighting side by side, a pair of ugly Fyorl demons. Spike tries to talk to them, but like many other demons whose languages he speaks, they don't want to chat much. He takes his attacker down quickly and finds Dawn holding her own, so he twists quickly to dust a newly rising vampire. Just as the dust is settling on the ground and Spike is looking around the graveyard to see if there are any other potential threats, he hears a high-pitched scream and turns faster than a bullet. A scene from his nightmares is presented to him. Dawn is on the ground, a gaping wound through her stomach. The product of the remaining Fyorl demon's sword.

The demon is poised to deliver the killing blow, and Spike flies across the graveyard dirt like he has wings to protect 'his' girl from her would-be assassin. The Fyorl doesn't stand a chance as Spike rips his head clear from his shoulders, powered by the strength of adrenaline and fear for Dawn's safety.

She lies moaning on the ground and he drops the demon as quickly as he can, rushing to her side. Scooping her up, he wishes it didn't hurt her, but takes off at a run for the local hospital. There's no car with them, but Spike isn't human and doesn't need to breathe, so he stride never slows despite the distance. When they arrive, he yells for assistance, and then watches helplessly as doctors swarm around Dawn.

It's a whole day later before he can see her, but Spike has never left the hospital. When they moved Dawn upstairs, he went. When they moved her to surgery, he went there, and when they moved her to recovery, he went there. Now, after he's been waiting outside recovery for three hours with Willow, Tara, and Giles, the door opens and a doctor accompanied by a pair of orderlies wheel out a gurney with Dawn on it. Spike springs to his feet.

He comes closer to Dawn, and with relief notices that her eyes are open and she seems aware of her surroundings. "How is she? Is she gonna be okay?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm her guardian. William Summers, her cousin."

The doctor nods. "Let's get her settled in, and I'll tell you more, but she's going to be fine, barring complications."

Spike nods wearily, the exhaustion of his fear for the last twenty-four hours taking over, and he hears sighs of relief from the Watcher and the two witches behind him. They follow at a slower pace as the orderlies and doctor take Dawn to her room on a different floor, settle her in bed, and reappear to talk to Spike.

"William?" The doctor asks. He nods.

"Is it alright if I discuss her condition in this environment?" He asks.

Spike nods, eager to hear the report. "Yeah. They're all friends," he says, gesturing to Willow, Tara and Giles. "How is she?"

The doctor smiles, then gets down to business. "She had some damage to her internal organs, but we managed to patch her up, and she's going to be fine. It will take a while for her to heal, though."

Spike nodded, even though he knew it wouldn't. Dawn would be on her feet in a day, back to slaying in a week. But the doctor didn't know that, so he just asked, "How long will she have to stay here?"
The doctor shrugged. "It depends on how well her recovery goes. Two or three days, probably. Then, bed rest for a week, and nothing strenuous until the incision is completely healed."

"Can I see her?"
The doctor nods. "Sure. But only immediate family at this time, so just you, Mr. Summers." Willow, Tara and Giles nod, and though disappointed, sink back into their seats, relief filling their faces.

Spike enters the room, and goes straight to Dawn's side. "Niblet?"

"Spike," she replies softly.

"The doc tells me you're gonna make it," Spike tells her a little teasingly, trying to lighten the situation slightly. Dawn cracks a weak smile.

"That's good."

Suddenly, the vampire is standing over her, and his lips are on hers. He's not even entirely sure how this happens, it just does. All the fear and anger is culminating is a massive emotional release, and if he doesn't kiss her, he doesn't know what he'll do. So he kisses her, and she responds eagerly, and they stand there that way for a long moment.

When he pulls away, she looks up at him eagerly, and he realizes that she's been harboring feelings for him for a very long time. Feelings that are very clear in her eyes right now, even though he's not quite sure how he feels. She's looking into his eyes, and he doesn't have a clue what to say, so he just lets her look. Maybe she'll see her answer, and then he won't have to find one in the tangle of emotions in his head.

"I really scared you, didn't I?" She asks softly.

Spike nods. He knows the answer to this one. "You scared the crap out of me, Niblet. Don't you ever do that again!"

She smiles. "I can't promise anything. I'm the Slayer, remember?"

And suddenly Spike gets it. She's not a child anymore. She's the Slayer, and she's responsible for the fate of the world, and right or wrong, he's going to be there for her in whatever way he can while she tries to deal with that incredible weight. So he leans down and kisses her again, and she grins up at him when he pulls away, obviously aware that he's made his decision.

"You know, we're going to have to do something about that guardianship issue," He says softly as he sits down on the edge of her bed and brushes away a few strands of hair from her forehead.

Dawn nods. "It would just be too weird."

"How do you feel about Giles?"

Dawn thinks for a moment. "Sure. I guess he's sticking around, since he has to be all Watcher-y and stuff, now."

Spike cracks a smile at that statement, though the pain in his eyes is obvious. "You sound an awful lot like your sister, Bit."

Something goes out of Dawn's eyes when he says that, and she turns her head away from him. "What?" He asks.

"Is that what you feel for me? Leftover emotion from loving Buffy?"

"God no! Dawn, you're more important to me than anything. Even when your sister was alive, it was you I helped out, remember?" She nods, still unsure.

"Dawn, I loved your sister. But I love you, too."

She returns her gaze up to him, hope shining in her eyes. "You love me?"

He smiles sincerely. "I do, Dawn Summers."

They seal it with a kiss.

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