Willow sat in the steadily darkening living room, waiting for Dawn to come home. She was trying to decide whether she was mostly angry because of worrying that something had happened to her, or because she'd missed a class to be home tonight and Dawn wasn't there. Then there was all the guilt for the anger…. Why had she thought it was such a good idea for them to move in and take care of Dawn anyway? Oh yes, because Buffy had died so Dawn could live. Yay for survivors' guilt.

xXx

Spike hoisted Dawn up and out of the sewer exit nearest her house. It was just dark enough now that his hands were only smoking lightly when he drew them back into the shadows.

"You wanna come in?" she asked, peering over the edge of the hole.

"'M I welcome?"

"It's my house," Dawn said sullenly.

"So that's a 'no' then."

"You should be welcome."

"Yeah well." Spike snorted. "Since when's that mattered?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "So I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"'Til tomorrow." He raised one hand in a farewell gesture.

Dawn closed the lid, and walked towards the house, dragging her feet. She couldn't see any lights, so she was pretty sure she was the first one home. She really hated being in the house by herself. But she also knew that it was unrealistic to expect anyone to be home waiting for her after school every day. She sighed as she put her key in the lock. At least she wouldn't have to worry about feeding herself.

Dawn suddenly, viscerally, wished for her mother.

xXx

Spike had had an itchy feeling at the back of his neck off and on the whole time he and Dawn had been in the sewers. Like they were being watched. Unfortunately, it being the sewers, he couldn't smell anything over the stench. And even with vampire eyesight, he could only really see well enough to navigate. His whole body ached and the thought of playing hide and seek was exhausting, so he decided to go straight home.

He'd have to tidy the place up – more than a bit – if Dawn was coming back tomorrow. Spike groaned: she'd need a proper toilet, too, if she was going to be around more.

Trying to ignore the prickles, Spike trudged back to Restfield and his crypt, planning the coming battle with his ancient plumbing.

xXx

"Where ya been, Dawnie?"

Dawn jumped a foot in the air at Willow's question. The words were all friendly-like, but like so many things Willow said now, Dawn felt an edge. She went straight on the attack.

"God! Were you tryingto scare me to death?"

Willow immediately felt another overwhelming wave of guilt. She hadn'tturned the lights on, after all. "Sorry. I just … I thought you'd have come straight home from school. I thought maybe I could make breakfast-for-dinner? Pancake-y goodness?" Willow plastered a grin on her face, willing herself to stop being hurt and annoyed that Dawn never looked happy to see her.

"I've already eaten."

Willow's smile slipped. "Oh."

"I'm not five, Willow. I canfeed myself." As she said the words, Dawn remembered the Incident with the Bacon Sandwich, when she'd nearly burned the house down. Buffy wouldn't have said anything to Willow about that, would she?

"Yeah, sure you can." Willow faltered.

Dawn felt a sharp pang of loss. She was the only person left alive who knew that story now.

Willow's hopes of sharing kitchen fun and bonding over pancakes shattered. Why couldn't it be just a little bit easier?

"I have homework," Dawn snapped. "I'm going to my room."

"I could help, maybe?" Willow knew she was coming off the wrong side of desperate. She just wanted so much to connect with Dawn, to find in her some semblance of the best-friend-y-ness she'd had with Buffy. But it seemed like every time she tried, it all went wrong. Dawn just kept rejectingher.

Dawn shrugged. "I think I can handle it. But I'll totally call you if I get stuck on something." Dawn knew she wouldn't call. She just felt so much pressure from Willow, every conversation was exhausting. Dawn didn't know what she wanted from her, but it always felt like whatever Dawn did was somehow disappointing and wrong. She stomped upstairs, oblivious to how she had crushed her sister's best friend.

Willow knew that what she should be doing now was making dinner for her and Tara, but she felt raw after her conversation with Dawn. Deciding a little distraction was in order, she wandered into the dining room where the Buffy-bot lay in pieces.

"Let's see if we can't make you all Humpty-Dumpty-together-again," she chirped.

Tara arrived home two hours later, exhausted from a very long day, and looking forward to food, bath and bed. But while the bot now had both arms attached, there was no dinner.

"Willow? Sweetie?" Tara asked. "Dinner?"

"Huh?" Willow looked up from her work. "Oh, sorry, I kinda got all distracto-girl. Do you want me to make you something?"

Tara sighed, looking at Willow's grease-covered hands, and guessed it would be at least half an hour before she would be safe around food. "No, it's fine. I'll just have some toast or something. Dawn ate, though, right?"

"Oh yeah, before I came home."

"At Janice's?"

"She never said." Willow frowned. "In fact, she got home after me, and I have no idea where she was."

Tara sighed again. Today was the first day Xander hadn't driven Dawn home from school and it wasn't even a week since she'd stopped taking the pills. It was starting to feel like being at home with her family again.

"Dawnie?" She called upstairs, walking towards the bottom of the steps.

"What?" Dawn shouted back.

"Could you come down here a minute, please?"

Dawn clomped down the stairs and stopped on the second to last step to tower over Tara, one hip jutting forward, both hands crossed over her chest, and glaring hard enough to burn holes in things. "What?"

Tara only just stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "Where were you today after school?"

Dawn froze. She couldn't distract Tara like she could Willow. Tara had a mom voice and she wasn't afraid to use it.

"At the mall." It wasn't a total lie.

"Were you with Janice?"

"Um, no?"

"Who, then?"

Dawn squirmed. Stupid Tara and her stupid mom voice. Dawn pushed her chin into her chest, let her hair fall over her eyes, and blurted out "I-was-with-Spike."

"Oh," Tara said. "That really wasn't the answer I was expecting."

"With Spike?!" Willow squawked, running into the hallway from the dining room. "What's heeven still doing here?"

Tara turned to Willow, making a shushing motion, and then calmly asked Dawn "What did you and Spike do?"

"We talked. Then he took me to dinner at the Food Court."

Willow and Tara just stared at her, at a total loss for words.

"The Food Court?" Willow finally gasped. Somehow, the normalcy of the fluorescent mall basement just made it so much ookier.

"It doesn't have windows, and it's easy to get to in daylight. There's an underground route from his crypt straight to the mall." Dawn thought the explanation might help make it all sound more normal. Instead, Willow just looked more shocked.

"He took you through the sewer?" Willow repeated, making a face.

Tara sniffed the air and started examining Dawn's clothes.

"God, Tara, I've changedsince then! Ewwww."

Tara shrugged, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"After we ate, he brought me home," Dawn paused, "so you wouldn't worry." More glaring. "And then I wanted him to come all the way in, but he didn't think he'd be welcome, so he wouldn't come." Dawn leaned forward, towards Tara, looming. "He was right, wasn't he? He wouldn't be welcome in MY house?" Dawn's voice had steadily risen in pitch and decibel as she went.

"No more shrieking, please, Dawnie." Tara murmured, wincing.

Dawn made a face and flipped her hair back over her shoulder. It was such a Buffy movement, Willow was temporarily distracted by grief. It still caught her at the oddest moments.

"Why didn't you tell him about the funeral?" Dawn's voice dropped to an almost-whisper at this question. She really, really didn't understand why they hadn't told him.

Tara and Willow looked at each other, and then back at Dawn.

"It never…" Tara started.

"We didn't think…" Willow trailed off.

"You should apologise."

"To Spike?" Willow asked, genuinely confused.

Tara flinched. She remembered him walking on broken legs to see Buffy.

"Yes, TO SPIKE!" Dawn was screeching again.

Willow frowned. "But it's Spike. You know, annoying, crude, soulless vampire Spike."

Dawn's glare was getting genuinely menacing now. "Did Angel know?"

Willow shrugged. "He went to some monastery right after I told him…. We didn't know how to contact him."

"But you would've?" Dawn pressed.

"Well, yeah, of course, he's Buffy's—"

"If you say 'one true love' I'm gonna spew."

Now Willow flinched. Furrowing her brows, she said firmly, "Buffy would have wanted him to be there."

"Buffy would have wanted Spiketo be there."

Willow stared at her incredulously. "He chained her up and threatened to feed her to Drusilla! Why would she have wanted him at her funeral?"

"Because he nearly died to protect me!" Dawn's face crumpled. "I wanted him there."

Tara pulled Dawn down the steps and into her arms as she started crying. "Oh Dawnie. We're sorry we couldn't ask you who you wanted to be there."

Willow watched her girlfriend comforting Dawn and put out the flare of jealousy with a good douse of shame. She should've been the first to step in when Dawn needed a hug. She should've known what Dawn needed and been able to give it to her.

"So is he welcome here?" Dawn asked, face still pressed into Tara's chest.

Willow and Tara stared at each other over Dawn's head. Willow was mouthing "No,"' and shaking her head frantically. Tara was more thoughtful. "She'll go anyway," she mouthed at Willow. Willow stopped her motions, then mouthed, "Not the crypt." Tara nodded.

"Dawnie, if we agree that Spike can come see you here, you have to promise us not to go off with him on your own."

Dawn nodded. "Okay." Dawn pulled away from Tara. "Can I go back upstairs now?" she asked in a small voice. There had been too many emotions today, and she just wanted it to be over now.

"Okay, sweetie. You go to bed. We'll … I guess we'll talk to Spike tomorrow, while you're at school. We'll sort something out."

Dawn half-heartedly stomped back upstairs.

"This is a terrible idea," Willow whispered.

"Maybe." Tara really didn't like arguing with Willow. She could feel her stutter threatening, and her stomach was all clenched up. "B-Buffy trusted him with her. Why shouldn't we?"

"Buffy only trusted him with her because of special circumstances! Glory circumstances. Those no longer apply, so no more with the trustage!"

"If he c-comes here, we can check on them. Show up unexpectedly, make sure everything's okay. If we tell her she can't see him, she'll go anyway. You know she will. And then who knows what might happen?"

Willow felt frustrated and sick. She could see Tara getting distressed, and she knew it was because they were arguing. Only just holding herself back from stomping her feet like Dawn, Willow capitulated. "You're probably right. I just … it's Spike. With the biting and the broken bottle in my face and the threats, and…."

"And the being tortured to keep Dawn safe. That's what he is for her."

Willow knew in her heart of hearts that Tara was right. Dawn had already proven she was capable of sneaking off to see Spike. Willow put her arms around her girlfriend and snuggled into her, signalling an end to the disagreement. Tara smiled, relaxing into the hug.

"I wish Buffy were here," Willow said quietly.

"Me too." Tara kissed her lightly. "So who's gonna talk to Spike tomorrow?"

Willow's head shot up.

xXx

Rupert Giles stared into his glass of whiskey. It was time to go.

He wasn't needed. Wanted, maybe. But he was tired. So very, very tired. Leaving the Hellmouth, returning to his books and his research, it all seemed so much easier.

Willow and Xander weren't his. Not like Buffy was. Anya would make sure the Magic Box flourished, probably better than he ever could.

It terrified him how much he hated Dawn. In his head, he knew it would pass, that it was the grief. But every time he looked at her, all he could think was, Why didn't she die instead? And he knew that wasn't healthy for either of them.

His house was all packed up now. He hadn't told anyone what he was planning. He didn't want a fuss. Instead, he'd written letters. One each to Xander and Willow, plus one to Wesley, just asking him to check in periodically.

He knew Anya had noticed his personal collection disappearing from the Magic Box, but he'd been able to distract her so far from asking about it directly. He had a letter for her, too, but it was mostly business. He knew they'd have to stay in semi-regular contact, anyway.

Five years of his life, all in boxes. He'd been so hopeful when he'd first arrived in Sunnydale, all set to save the world. Everything had been so clear: black and white, good and evil, human and monster. He'd been so deluded about what the Slayer would be like.

"God save us from American teenagers," he toasted in the direction of Sunnydale. Then, staring at his suitcases, he added, "Or American teenagers save us from gods."

He'd been even more deluded about himself. And now it really was time to go; his gate was being announced.

He drank the last of his overpriced airport whiskey, picked up his suitcase, and walked towards security. He was certain he would never see Sunnydale again.

Giles never noticed that his taxi driver was sitting three tables away in the bar, or that he followed him to security, and watched him go through.

xXx

Deciding who went to see Spike ended up being very easy: Tara had a break in classes from eleven to four and Willow didn't. Both of them were relieved.

Tara had never been to Spike's crypt before. She'd waited until nearly three, hoping that would be late enough in the day for him to be awake. She knew roughly where it was, but was still a bit nervous about getting lost. She needn't have been. She could hear him bellowing from the cemetery gates.

"Bloody buggerin' FUCKING EVIL PIPES!"

She could also see what looked like a burst fire hydrant shooting straight into the air.

Tara started laughing. She just couldn't help herself. She started walking towards the Yosemite-wanna-be, when it suddenly stopped.

"THAT'S RIGHT, YOU FUCKWIT! WHO'S THE BIG BLOODY BAD NOW?"

Tara had to stop and lean against a tombstone. She was laughing so hard now, she could barely breathe. What was he doing?

When she finally reached the crypt, she could see a hole in the ground surrounded by mud, but no other obvious signs of disturbance.

"Spike?" she called out.

There was a long pause.

"It's Tara…."

"Give us a tic, pet. Bit busy just at the mo'," Spike replied.

"Are you … plumbing?"

She could hear Spike growling. Then there was clanking. Then banging. Then more swearing. Then something that sounded like a toilet flushing?

"Thank BLOODY CHRIST for that!"

Another longish pause, then the door was flung open. Spike stood just outside of the reach of the sunlight, covered from head to toe in mud. "What're you after, then?"

Tara started laughing again. "I'm so sorry," she gasped out. "It's not funny."

Spike's lips twitched. "Pro'ly is. Imagine I look a right sight."

Tara coughed out "Big Bad," before collapsing into giggles again.

Spike just stared at her for a second, then started chuckling along. He stopped when she started turning purple.

"Oi, breathe!"

Tara finally managed to compose herself, but her eyes were still dancing.

"Reckon you wouldn't be here 'less Nib told you she was with me yesterday." Spike started.

Tara nodded, then looked up to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you about the funeral."

Spike staggered back a step, shocked.

"'S alright. 'Spect you thought I'd left," he mumbled.

"We should have tried."

"Well. Didn't expect to hear that. 'Preciate it." They nodded at each other, warily.

"About Dawn.…"

Spike stiffened. "Is this where you tell me to stay away from her or be staked?" He was looking and sounding very scary, all of a sudden, even with all the mud, and Tara remembered she was dealing with a very old vampire.

"N-no. This is where we try to work out a … a custody arrangement?"

Spike sat down very suddenly.

There was squelching, because of the mud, and Tara only just stopped herself from giggling again.

"A what now?"

"Dawn needs taking care of. She wants you to be a part of that. I take it … that's something you want, too?"

Spike nodded. "Promised Buffy I'd keep her safe." He'd done a piss-poor job of keeping that promise so far, but Dawn wasn't going to get so much as a paper cut from here on out if he could help it.

"And plumbing is a part of that?" Tara asked teasingly.

Spike looked away, embarrassed. "Crypts don't come with ... facilities."

Tara gasped. "Okay," she breathed. One visit from Dawn, and he was building a bathroom already?

"Didn't want it to be difficult when she's here."

"Oh, Spike." This was so not what she'd expected. Tara decided to take a chance. "Willow and I are almost never home between three and seven."

"She hates bein' home alone."

Tara only just kept her mouth from dropping open. "W-we thought, maybe, you could … be there for her, when she comes home from school? Until one of us gets home? Maybe make sure she eats?"

Spike's mouth did drop open. "You lot'd trust me with that?"

"I can't speak for everyone, but I think it might be what's best for Dawn." As Tara said the words, she realised how true they were. She and Willow couldn't be there all the time. Spike could. And, more importantly, he wanted to be.

Spike let out a breath. "Done."

"I've got a key for you." Tara started fumbling in her purse. "Somewhere in here."

Spike flinched. "Might already have one o' them…."

Tara looked at him. "Right. Well. Um."

"Sorry?"

Tara couldn't believe Spike could go from swearing at pipes to scary vampire to ashamed little boy in such a short period of time. He was such a strange man. Strange vampire.

"Well." Tara started stepping backwards and away from the crypt's door. "I guess I'll see you later tonight?"

"Yeah." Spike looked and sounded dazed.

Tara left him, sitting just inside the crypt door, staring into space.

The man watching from the shadows smiled. This custody arrangement would make things easier.