Chapter 3 – Tequila Sunrise The following morning

Draco Malfoy admired himself in the mirror. His hair looked so much cooler since he had cut that stupid fringe and spiked it back. He slipped into his heavy black formal robe and checked himself over once more. I wonder how I'd look in tweed… He shook his head a little, clearing his bizarre mental picture, and left the room.

He headed down to the Great Hall, that mindless bint Pansy Parkinson on his arm, who was also Harmony. The Clash were playing, except the guitarist was that bloke who used to go out with Willow. Draco ditched Harmony and jumped straight into the pit.

When the band finally stopped, finishing their second encore, Draco headed off to find the bar. There was no beer and nothing stronger, only poncy butterbeer or pumpkin juice. Pulling out a flask from inside his robes, he heavily spiked every drink in sight, then tried to down as many of them as he possibly could.

It was then that he spotted that magnificent wanker Harry Potter, the Vampire Who Lived, the Boy With A Soul, and Draco swaggered over to him, almost in a straight line. Potter was surrounded, of course, by his pathetic group of worshippers, at the front of which stood bushy-haired Willow and Ron the carpenter. Draco looked around to check no one was watching.

"How about trying a real drink?"

He leaned in and gave scar boy a glass containing a small amount of pumpkin juice, and a lot of bourbon, something he considered fair because he'd just drank several of the same.

Potter took it and sipped it lightly, then he pulled a disgusted face and spat it out. Ponce!

"Malfoy, what did you put in this, are you trying to poison me?"

Hermione took the glass and sniffed it, making a sour face, but not quite as sour as he expected.

"It's mostly bourbon," she announced.

Draco turned to face her, his head cocked on one side.

"Now, love, I know you have a reputation for being an annoying know-it-all, but how would you know what bourbon smells like?"

Willow coloured, her cheeks growing rapidly pink beneath a mass of curly brown hair, and she dropped her eyes.

"Oh," Draco said with a hollow laugh. Knowing he couldn't possibly resist, he continued.

"Got tired of being alone, waiting for Xander to express some sign of interest, did we? Decided to drown our sorrows in drink? I'd stick to it, pet, you're more likely to find happiness there than with that great poofter."

Potter was fuming at this point, and had his wand out, pointed at Draco. Idly noticing that Hermione's ex, Oz, Draco thought, had joined the circle of conversation, well, more like confrontation, he wondered when that had happened, and how he had missed it. The kid now interjected.

"Erm, guys, that's not a wand. That's a drum stick. Topper threw his into the crowd."

Potter looked annoyed, throwing the stick to one side, and Draco cracked up with laughter. Potter leaned in close, and whispered in Draco's ear.

"At least I've got better hair than you."

And then Spike punched Angel, and knocked him out cold.

He had totally laughed. She had blurted the joke out in class, speaking long before she thought, and then there had been an awkward silence. But it had only lasted, like, half a second, and then he had burst out laughing. Miss Davies had kept a close eye on them for the rest of the lesson, so they hadn't had a chance to talk, but she remembered that laugh.

She would have been at his game that lunchtime, but she knew this was, like, something she really should do, and she was sick of being thought of as, like, ungrateful and selfish. And, of course, she didn't want to come across as too keen, for him to think she was obsessed with him. Which was why she was spending her sunny lunchtime walking through a graveyard.

She didn't know how Spike would react to her showing up at his door, and she worried about it a little. He had been ok last night, but Tara had been hurt, and so obviously the circumstances were fairly tense, and there hadn't been much time to talk or anything. But she had also been too scared to worry about it last night, too desperate to get Tara to safety and too frightened of anything that might be chasing after them.

She was close now, within sight of his crypt. She wondered if he could smell her coming. What if he's locked the door? Well, at least she would have tried. She'd just have to continue onwards to Tara's, and hope she'd see Spike around sometime to say thank you. Although if he has locked the door on me, I'm not sure I still want to.

She reached Spike's front door, turned the handle, and walked in, not thinking to consider knocking. She had taken a few steps inside before she stopped dead, taking in the sight before her. Her mouth dropped wide open, and for a few seconds, she was completely silent.

Spike lay slouched on the sofa in his usual black jeans, but his shirt was nowhere to be seen. His hair was a mess, and his head was back, eyes closed. Tara was sprawled in his lap, her legs up on the sofa beside her. Her skirt was torn, showing most of her legs, and her shirt appeared to be tied around one of Spike's elbows, red with blood. Most strikingly, Tara was wearing Spike's leather duster, and it was hanging open at the top, showing just her bra underneath. Her eyes were closed, and amid the chaotic scene, she looked peaceful.

Dawn was suddenly very uncertain of what to do. She wanted to scream and pull her hair out, and seriously question her own sanity, but she was afraid of what they'd say if she woke them. Perhaps I should just leave quietly? But then what would happen the next time she saw either one of them? Should she just not mention it at all?

Just as she was about to turn to leave, Tara's eyes opened, slowly, reminding Dawn of a cat. Tara looked her straight in the eye, glanced down at Spike's legs beneath her, and then gradually sat up, taking care not to disturb him. She pulled the black leather duster closer around her and stood up. She had only taken one step towards Dawn when they both heard Spike muttering softly in his sleep.

"…poncy, self-righteous, holier-than-thou Gryffin-bloody-dors…"

Dawn almost gasped, but Tara turned to smile fondly at him. She walked around to the back of the sofa, placing a hand on each of his shoulders, and leaned in close as she gently shook him awake. His eyes snapped open, and he looked up into her face, his eyebrow raising questioningly.

"Think you were having a nightmare, sweetie," she told him with a smile, and he nodded slightly.

"We sweat and laugh and scream here," he whispered to her, Dawn struggling to catch the words.

"'Cause life is just a dream here," came Tara's fond reply, adding "and we have company."

Spike's head slowly tilted forwards, his eyes finding Dawn, frowning slightly, likely wondering what she was doing there. Then his eyes slowly widened as if in remembering, and he glanced up quickly at Tara, then back to Dawn. He did this several times, and his frown slowly became a sheepish grin. In perfect imitation of the expression she'd seen on him so many times, Dawn arched an eyebrow at him, and he bit his lip slightly, clearly rather apprehensive about what to do next.

Finally he seemed to give up, throwing his arms up in the air and sitting up. When he spoke, his voice carried resignation, but was not unfriendly.

"Niblet, why are you here?"

Dawn hadn't realised she could be further shocked, but her jaw still managed to drop. He asks me that?! Yes, Tara and Spike were both consenting adults, but… Could they really have…? She couldn't believe it. It was so unlike them. Well, it was unlike Tara anyway. But kinda unlike Spike too, since he'd been like, totally obsessed with her sister.

The vampire's question still hung in the air, and she dimly struggled to pull her mind back to the answer. She had had it all planned out, what she was going to say, and then she'd walked in on that scene and all her words had suddenly vanished.

"I wanted to say thanks. For last night I mean."

Spike's eyebrow rose, and he leered at her, as she slowly realised what she'd just said.

"I didn't mean… no, not like that!"

Spike only continued, then breaking into a broad grin.

"Spike!"

She exclaimed in frustration, stomping her foot. Tara was laughing openly, but not in a malicious way. Indeed, she was throwing warm smiles at both of them, and then got up and headed over to what could only be called Spike's kitchen area. But there were pots and pans out over there, looking like they'd actually been used…

"Besides," Dawn added in a lower tone to Spike alone, "it looks like you had quite enough company last night."

Spike shot up out of his seat quicker than she'd have believed possible, shaking his head rapidly, his eyes widening with shock.

"'Bit, I would never touch Tara in that way!"

Half way through the act of filling up the kettle, most of their conversation hidden by the noise, Tara's head whipped around to look at Spike, and it could have been Dawn's imagination, but she was almost sure she saw a stricken look on Tara's face at hearing those words. It then quickly softened as Spike clarified, but was still faintly visible in her eyes.

"She's wonderful, she's kind, and I don't know why I didn't get to know her sooner. And yes, she's rather lush. But above all she's a lady, and ladies don't sleep with bad guys like me. She's better than that."

Dawn decided not to let on that Tara had obviously heard all of that, or that she looked very ready to vehemently protest and defend him. Because that would probably make things awkward between her and Spike. And from the looks of it, they could both do with their friendship right now. Ok, maybe it's time to leave them to it.

"So," she started hesitantly, "I didn't get much chance to do homework yesterday, so I'd better be off home to get it finished before next class."

She moved toward the door, but Spike called her back.

"Aren't you meant to be in school?"

Turning back to him slowly, she told him it was lunchtime, which was mostly true. It had been lunchtime when she had first left school, but she'd never make it back in time for afternoon class. Sadly it didn't look like he believed her.

Tara intervened then, coming over from the kitchen to be included in the conversation, presumably to stop it from coming to a head.

"Why don't you stay here and do it, like we planned to do last night, before we got distracted?"

"You started a homework club?" Spike interjected.

Dawn quickly piped up to spare Tara having to give the sentimental answer. Yes, spending that time together meant a lot to both of them, but she didn't think Spike would understand.

"Uh, I don't have the books I was gonna use," she told them.

Spike rolled his eyes, but Tara nodded understandingly.

"It's ok, Sweetie," she said, "although, we could get some if you like, the library's just around the corner from here. Or maybe Spike has some books?" She asked, looking at him enquiringly, but Dawn responded before he had a chance, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Oh come on, Spike and books?"

His eyebrows lifted and his mouth dropped open in a half-mock offended expression.

"I have books," he spluttered in protest, "I have several of them!"

Dawn found that very hard to believe, and felt one of her eyebrows climb in challenge. She also noticed Tara smiling to herself, and from the looks of it, trying to stifle a giggle.

"Ok, well I've gotta write a thousand words on The Soldier and someone called Rupert Brooke, which is totally stupid because it's, like, ancient, I mean, do you really happen to have any books on that?"

"…No," he admittedly, um, admitted. A triumphant smile covering her face, Dawn nodded in an obviously false display of sympathy.

"I'll catch you guys later, ok?"

She waved goodbye to Tara and flashed that smile at Spike again. It wasn't often she got the upper hand with him, and she certainly intended to rub it in as much as she could, and if she remembered, the next time they met as well. She knew she shouldn't tease him, not only was it a little harsh on her friend, but also usually a bad move to make a vampire angry. Except Spike was pretty harmless, and he teased her often enough, and she still hadn't forgiven him for telling her not to come around anymore.

She had turned to leave and was almost through the door when she heard Spike's reply.

"Of course, I'd start off by comparing it to Wilfred Owen's Dulce Et Decorum Est, contrasting the sentiment of the two. Then I'd mention those it inspired, like a poem by Rifleman Donald S. Cox called To My Mother. And then I'd finish with the historical details relating to it, like the fact that Brooke died in 1915, and his brother two months later."

The scene hung there, frozen in the air for a few seconds, and Dawn was wishing for anything but to have to turn around and face his smirk. She very slowly turned, half backing into the crypt, her eyes lowered, and she pushed the door to behind her. When she finally did look up, she found to her surprise and immense gratitude that Spike was not sitting there smugly grinning at her, he seemed to have disappeared. Her eyes quickly located him, facing away from her at the worktop in his kitchen area, pouring the tea while Tara fussed around him as only she could.

It was she that left the kitchen to come over to Dawn, bringing her a cup of tea. Dawn took it gratefully, but made a face when she tasted it, clearly Spike didn't own any sugar. Tara mouthed a "sorry" at her, and Dawn blushed. She really ought to be apologising for being clearly rather wrong about Spike, but how was she to know? And if she said she was sorry, wouldn't that cause a rather awkward atmosphere? Well, it was already rather awkward, but…

Dawn didn't really notice Tara waiting expectantly for a couple of seconds, didn't take in that she was offering her a window to make some form of apology. After a pause, she let a shallow breath out and shrugged slightly, moving on and starting a new conversation.

"How are you feeling after last night, Dawnie?"

Dawn's eyes widened slightly, she had completely forgotten their random demon attack. She mentally kicked herself, it had been Tara who had been hurt, not her, it shouldn't be Tara asking if she was alright, she should have asked the moment she realised the elder girl was here. I kinda got distracted, and, woah, it's not every day you walk into Spike's crypt to that scene.

"I'm fine," she hurriedly assured the blonde witch, clasping her hands as they sat down on the sofa together.

"Are you alright?" she asked in return. She knew she had a concerned look in her eyes, but tried not to let herself get too worried, as she was clearly in good health.

Tara nodded and smiled, then started to explain.

"I'll be rather bruised for a few days, but that's all it was really. It was Spike that took most of the damage, he was losing a lot of blood last night, but he looks mostly unscathed by now."

"Spike? How did he…?" Dawn asked, confused. Spike had been safe in his crypt at the time they were ambushed.

"That thing - we never found a name for it, but the demon that attacked you and I – it came back late last night, it must have followed our scent. One moment we were just finishing dinner, next thing we know it bursts in, nearly taking the front door off its hinges."

Dawn gasped, her hands flying to her face, then reaching out for Tara again, as if resting her hands on Tara's leg reassured her that she was ok.

"What did you do?" Dawn asked in a quiet voice, still startled and imagining how scared Tara must have been. Not that Tara couldn't handle herself, but fear must be an instinctive reaction in that situation, she thought.

"I was too surprised to think for a few seconds, before I could gather my wits and consider a spell to stop or contain it, Spike had vaulted the table and leaped at it, tackling it to the floor. They struggled briefly, while I tried to aim a spell clearly and failed completely, and then he broke its neck. Not without it putting some deep gashes into his forearm, though."

Head whipping around to check Spike for injuries, Dawn saw the wounds Tara had mentioned, surprised she hadn't noticed them previously. Her attention was also drawn to the white tourniquet around the vampire's elbow, which she had absently recognised earlier as Tara's shirt, now very bloodstained. And that's why she's wearing his coat, she thought, she used her shirt to bandage him up and wanted something to cover herself up with.

"Don't worry," Tara assured her, "the tourniquet stopped most of the blood loss, and the vampire healing is taking care of the rest. In a few days, you wouldn't believe it had ever happened. I didn't believe him at first, but they look so much better this morning that he's got me convinced."

Dawn leaned in close and put her arms around Tara, hugging her and cuddling up to her. She felt Tara's hand stroking her hair softly, assuring her that everything was ok now, and, snuggling under her arm, her minded absently drifted.

She wondered what would happen now. Would things go back to how they once were with Spike and herself? She remembered a time when they would stay up late together, him telling her horror stories from his days as the Scourge of Europe, and she would paint his nails. Would they form their own little family, as they had last summer? Before then, she'd always had a crush on him, from the first time she met him, back when Buffy had been dating Angel. They were only together for, like, a few months, but even now she's so not over him.

She remembered when he had swept in with her sister one night, she realised now she should have recognised the hatred in the looks they threw at each other, but at the time she had just been so excited that Buffy had finally ditched Angel and hooked up with someone hot!

And then Buffy had run away for the summer, and with that to deal with, Spike had vanished from Dawn's mind. When her sister finally came home, no one knew what was going on with her love life for a while, but Spike had been completely forgotten. She knew now why Buffy had run away, of course, and could understand it, she had had to kill her boyfriend after all, but a little bit of Dawn still held it against her. It hadn't raised her opinion of Angel at all, either.

And then, shortly after Buffy went off to UC Sunnydale, and got together with Riley, the blond vampire was back, still Mr moonlight hair and midnight leather, and she realised she totally had a crush on him. Moonlight hair and midnight leather? Jeez, I think this poetry stuff is getting to me! And then last summer, she came to see that in spite of his nature, on some level he was just as human as the rest of them, and her feelings for him changed again.

And looking over at him now, she didn't quite know what she felt. You could grow used to something looking good if it was always there, but every once in a while something would be faintly altered, like his hair being a mess, or a new set of clothes, or just being on top form, and that slight difference would remind you that it was still attractive. In this case, it was his shirt being off, and he was still gorgeous!

"I'm just amazed he let you wear that coat," Dawn said with a smile.

Tara looked down at her and giggled, telling her "Oh, he insisted! Wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Wow… But he loves that coat! And he never, never, lets anyone else near it!"

Still chuckling, Tara sat up beside her, turning to face her again. She glanced quickly over to the kitchen to make sure Spike, still occupied with rummaging through his cupboards in search of something unknown, was not looking their way, and leaned in close to whisper to Dawn.

"I think it's the only thing he had that would fit me. We're not exactly the same clothes size, and I guess he didn't want to mention it, so he gave me his duster. His trenchcoat," Tara corrected herself.

Everyone always seemed to forget how kind Spike could be, often when least expected. He was also far more thoughtful than many gave him credit for. Dawn felt her heart melting a little, and she and Tara shared a smile. Again Dawn became aware of how much she'd missed Tara being around. And now that she'd had a little time to get over the shocking weirdness of it, Tara and Spike getting closer was actually quite sweet. Sort of. But still very weird. Ooh, and her sister's reaction was going to be priceless!

"Well it looks good on you," she told the blonde witch, who beamed at her in response.

"Go on, go get your books out on the table," Tara said, "and I'll send him over to help with the poetry stuff."

"How does he know all that?" She couldn't resist asking as she got to her feet.

"No idea, honey," Tara replied with a shrug, "although, it's a First World War poem, don't forget he was alive at the time. Well, kicking, at least."

Yeah, I guess that must be it, she thought as she walked over to the table, dragging her school bag behind her. She sat down and pulled out her books and her pencil case (the cool one with the hunk from that TV show on it), and Spike dropped into the seat next to her.

"Right then," he began, "If I should die… Hmmm, well, bit late for that, but let's see this poem then."

An hour and a half later, her stuff was back in her bag, the poetry assignment completed, and she was getting ready to leave Spike's so she'd make it back to school in time for her lesson.

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk with you?" Tara asked for like, the millionth time.

Dawn nodded and smiled, trying to set the girl's mind at ease.

"It's a short walk, in sunlight the whole way, containing no back alleys, I'll be fine."

She said it gently, not wanting to hurt Tara's feelings, knowing she was only concerned. Ordinarily she might not have minded the company, but she was tired of Buffy constantly overprotecting her, she took every opportunity that came up for a chance to do things unsupervised. It was strange that her sister managed to keep her locked up in the face of going out with her friends, or taking care of herself getting home from school, yet, should a banished Hell-Goddess with expensive taste feel like kidnapping her…

Ok, not quite fair, her sister had kinda died for her, but that Buffy really didn't feel like the same girl she now lived with. Still, don't have to worry about that, got two hours of wonderful school before I have to deal with that. Lucky me! She grimaced as she realised that after just a couple of hours with Spike, the sarcasm thing was infecting her again.

She perked up when she remembered that Scott was in her next class, maybe they'd get a chance to talk. Except she now had an A+ grade poetry essay in her bag, what if he thought she was a total nerd? Maybe she could pass it off as a creative way of seeing things or something, it'd be much easier to sound cool and get away with being good at poetry than at maths or something brainier.

Although, she'd known Spike for a while now, they'd spent a lot of time together, and, she had thought, shared lots of secrets. Yet he had never mentioned poetry, not once. Sure, he quoted lyrics the whole time, but that was different. Lyrics sounded cool, poetry sounded… don't know what. She'd never have guessed he'd know a thing about it, but when he revealed that he did, it didn't seem too out of place. Which made no sense at all, from Spike, whose main hobbies were fighting, drinking, cheating and Hell. Cheating at kitten poker, anyway, she knew he'd stay pretty crazily loyal to a girl, as he had with Drusilla.

She hugged Tara, promising to visit her again before next week, and Spike gave her a wave from the kitchen, where he was washing up. Now that was quite a bizarre sight. He hadn't wanted to, but Tara had started doing it without saying anything, and in spite of all his trying, he hadn't been able to persuade her that throwing the dirty plates away and stealing new ones was a better idea. And so, muttering about what guests and ladies shouldn't be doing, in order to stop her washing up, he'd begun doing it himself.

She waved back and headed out the door, blinded for a moment by the sunlight as she stepped outside. It had been a really nice lunchtime, she hadn't expected it to turn out like that when she first walked into Spike's crypt, but she was glad it had. She still wasn't quite sure what she ought to say to Buffy, so she decided not to mention it, not for the moment at least.

She set off towards Sunnydale High, humming to herself cheerfully. Those two, Spike and Tara, were still a strange pair to be hanging out together. Last summer, when the two of them had been at Rovello Drive most of the time, working to keep herself and Willow sane, she had almost imagined they were a family. Yet since then, the two of them had barely said a word to each other, as far as she knew. And with that, she decided that it was nice that they seemed to be becoming friends again now. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought it might turn into something more than friendship, but… well, she did know better. Never gonna happen!

It would be nice to hang out with them more often, and she suddenly realised why. They laughed together. Actual laughter, a sound rarely heard at home these days, what with Buffy spending every waking moment working, and Willow moping a lot. Xander still put on smiles any time he visited, but it wasn't enough, there was still no laughing, and home wasn't a happy place without it. But with Spike and Tara, Dawn genuinely had a good time, and that was something to be treasured.

It was only as she headed out of the cemetery that she remembered the first thing Spike had said that day, while still asleep, something that had surprised her at the time and then been quickly forgotten. She smiled as she now remembered, beginning to laugh to herself. And I accused him of having nothing to do with books!