Xander rubbed the small of his back, trying to ease the kink that could only have come from sitting in a bus for hours. It was his own fault; he could have taken the 'Willow express', but he needed the (mostly) alone time to get his pleading and groveling in order.

He really wanted to insist that he'd done nothing wrong; all he'd done in his mind's eye was make love to his woman. Unfortunately, he realized that was not how Dawn saw it. As much as his male pride needed to be salved, her broken heart had to take precedence.

And it was the right thing to do; really it was. Even if he'd never meant to hurt her. He felt filthy just thinking of that imposter's hands on him; his hands on seemingly familiar breasts; his…

It took three days of constant whining and begging to get Willow to cough up where Dawn had gone. Even then, she gave him a simplified version of her infamous shovel talk about making things right with Dawn. So when he showed up at the hotel, all sweaty, with a duffel bag slung across his shoulders, he couldn't help but hesitate.

He was about to ask the woman at reception where he could find Dawn Summers and party, when his Sunnydale ear caught sounds of a scuffle. Or maybe a dance competition. One never knew. Anyone else would have the common sense to stay away, but he was born and bred in Sunnydale, so naturally he headed straight towards it. The sound of two phones going off almost at the exact same time rang through the white shuttered doors.

Xander opened the cafe doors and found Spike in full gameface, circling around some strange guy with a crossbow aimed at his heart. At his entrance, all the attention turned to him.

"Sounded like someone holding dance lessons in here, so I thought I'd join," he said, matter-of-factly.

"Don't have time for this now, mate," Spike snarled, turning his attention back to the other guy. "This wanker's got some bug up his arse and wants to take it out on mine."

"Look, whoever you are. I get that Fangface over there tends to hog the dance floor, but I'm pretty sure a couple of my lady friends might be pissed if you dusted him."

"You know this moke?" the guy asked, waving the crossbow in Xander's direction.

Spike rolled his eyes, which looked really weird in his true face and said, "Name's Xander. He's my girl's sister's estranged boyfriend." Turning to Xander he said, "Git trying to end me is Dean. Came off as a phony reporter and then pulled that toy out of his coat."

"Oh come on, dude. Don't you know there's a ton of people lining up to off the bleached wonder? Cutting to the front of the line is bad form." Xander laughed. "What makes you so special?"

"This is your friend?" Dean asked Spike, confused.

"Harris? Hardly. I just tolerate him for Dawn's sake. And Buffy's," he added as an afterthought.

"Yeah right, as if anyone else would tolerate your habit of leaving wet, drippy towels all over the bathroom floor," Xander snarked.

"You two live together? As a couple?" Now Dean looked doubly confused. "I thought you shacked up with blondie."

"Nah, he just stays at my place whenever Buffy kicks him out."

"She doesn't 'kick me out'," Spike growled. "She ever-so-politely asks me to leave so she can have a girl's night. Not my fault your place is somewhat cleaner than the local motel."

"Don't forget my Ouya gaming station, you vampire geek," Xander laughed again.

Dean couldn't stop from chuckling, himself. "You're one weird-assed vampire, you know that, right?"

"You didn't know this and you still want to kill him?" Xander's eyebrows rose to his hairline while he slowly moved his hand towards the gun in his shoulder holster. He'd stopped being a child a long time ago, and in his peculiar line of work, it was always best to be armed.

"Listen, fellas," Xander said with his hand on the handle of his gun. "Why don't we all just hit a bar and try to settle this without violence?"

Spike shook off his vampire mien and laughed heartily. "Really, Harris? You've known me how long and now you're gonna try to spoil all my fun?" More seriously he said, "I don't think Dean, here, is in the mood for a nice, sociable drink with yours truly."

"Who, me?" Dean asked. The man sounded cheerful, but Xander could spot the insincerity. Danger practically radiated from his stance. "I'm all for being sociable," Dean allowed. "Just as soon as the vamp's lost his head."

Xander's hope for a peaceful solution to this stalemate dwindled each second that went by. "Wanna tell me why you're so insistent on killing him? What'd he do... piss in your cornflakes? Or rather, pour blood in them, since he doesn't..."

"They don't?" Dean seemed surprised and almost curious. "the kind I usually deal with does."

"Your kind of what?" Xander and Spike chorused.

"You know, bloodsuckers, with shark-like teeth, run in packs."

"And this has what-all to do with Spike?" Xander pressed, trying to understand what this was all about.

"A friend of mine gave me the heads up. What can I say, I don't like demons, I don't like vamps, and your buddy over here happens to be both." Dean shook his head, resolve firming on his face.

"And he won the 'kill' lottery because…?" Xander still couldn't understand why this Dean wanted him dead.

"I had nothing better to do. That good enough for you?" The smirk on the guy's face was enough to make Xander want to punch his lights out, much like he wanted to do to Spike from time to time.

"If someone would answer his damned phone, we could have prevented this," a familiar feminine voice rang loud and clear. Dawn followed on her sister's footsteps.

Xander's heart seized up... his love was not happy to see him. He could see it in the way her lips pouted, and a furrow formed between her beautiful, blue eyes."Hi, Dawn," he murmured, holding his arm out towards her automatically.

She ignored it, of course. "What the hell are you doing here, Xander?"

"Uhhhh..."

"And just how the hell did you find me, anyway? Did Willow snitch?" Arms akimbo, Dawn was warming up for a good old-fashioned row.

If Xander didn't know better, he would have sworn her eyes flashed gold for a moment. But he did. Know better.

"Oh, this is just wonderful. Tell you what… why don't you call me when the Oprah hour is over." Dean grumbled, his hand fumbling for something inside his coat.

"You got any more weapons in there and I'll rip out your throat before you can blink." Spike's look was coldly furious.

"Spike," Buffy's voice softly warned.

Xander recognized the 'Who, me?' look on Dean's face, but he wasn't about to fall for it. Neither was Buffy who had stepped between Spike and Dean.

"I had a little talk with your friend, Mr. Winchester. I'm giving you exactly thirty seconds to explain why I shouldn't call the cops and tell them that a wanted mass murderer is threatening my boyfriend's life in a public place."

This time it was Dean's turn to be flummoxed, and Xander's attention moved from Dean, to Buffy, Spike and Dawn as if he was watching a tennis match.

"Benny?" Dean practically croaked. "You spoke to Benny?"

And now the implied threat was on the other foot, because Xander recognized Buffy's tone, as well. It was the one she used when someone threatened any member of the Scooby gang, or more importantly, Dawn or Spike.

"That she did, Brother." A tall, bearded man stepped through the doors.

This little hole-in-the-wall had suddenly become Grand Central Station.

Xander noticed Dean sigh in relief, until he spotted the newcomer's hands fastened behind his back with a plastic tie.


Poor Dawn, Buffy thought. This so wasn't the time for relationship drama. That's what they'd come to New Orleans to avoid.

As if sensing her sister's thoughts, Dawn chose that exact moment to stomp out of the patio in a fit of pique. With a look of resolve and determination, Xander followed her.

Buffy couldn't understand what he'd hoped to accomplish by showing up like this, unannounced. To make matters worse, she couldn't go after them to keep the damage to a minimum because Sharktooth was the least of her problems on the patio.

Nobody threatened Spike – not without a good reason these days, which usually meant her, when Spike left his bloody mugs in the sink, unwashed. For a brief moment, she wondered if this Winchester was more than human. Looks could be deceiving, after all, and he was standing under the cover of the awning. Then again, not all monsters were vulnerable to the sun.

She had to do something - say something. This needed to end, now, before innocent people became involved in their mess. Winchester seemed to be checking her out, and the way his eyes lingered over her breasts, she didn't think it was about assessing her battle prowess.

Spike noticed, as well. His growl was loud enough for all to hear.

Dean just grinned at that. Buffy glared at Spike, making it clear he needed to stand down and follow her lead. The guy was just winding him up and she knew Spike well enough to know just how easy that was.

Slowly, deliberately, Buffy folder her arms across her chest. "I'm not a bone to be fought over, you idiots," she snarled, though she shot a smile over to Spike to soften her words. "We have more important things to discuss."

"Oh really?" The sarcasm dripped from smirking lips as Dean continued his unwanted perusal.

Buffy fought the urge to lift her arms a bit to more fully cover her breasts."Back down, mister," she snarled. "Why don't you tell me what brings a dead mass murderer after me and mine?"

"I'm not after you, Princess," Dean chuckled. "I'm after that bloodsucking bastard with you."

"So it's ok for you to hang out with a bloodsucker but not me?" Buffy was incredulous. "And I'm still waiting for an explanation about the mass murderer sitch."

"Benny doesn't kill," Dean insisted. "And he asked for my help because he knew firsthand what kind of damage your 'boyfriend' can cause."

"First of all, I meant you," Buffy snorted. Men could be so thick at times. "And you mean that because Benny's still freaked out after all these years that Spike killed his family, it's okay for you to take up his vendetta? Did Benny mention that he was talking about his vampire family?"

"Well, duh!" Dean's expression could have marked him as a Sunnydale native. "But a vampire family that was lying low... under the radar."

Benny coughed discreetly.

"You have something to add to this, Benny?" Buffy asked. Might as well hear from all parties. That's what she'd brought him here for, anyway.

"Uhm, Dean… this was before I met Andrea," the vampire looked embarrassed, looking at the floor. "We weren't exactly saints."

"Oh yeah, the vampirate shtick."

"Vampirate?" Buffy couldn't help the grin that broke out on her face.

"Benny's old nest had this thing. They were vamps and pirates, vampirates."

Buffy suppressed a shudder when the image of Xander with fangs flitted across her mind.

"On behalf of vampires everywhere, I am highly embarrassed," Spike grumbled.

"Okay... tell me this, Benny," Buffy said, turning to look at the bearded vampire. "You've been carrying this grudge with Spike for many years. If you can tell me you've never killed in your past, I'll step aside and let you fight."

"Can't say that." Benny admitted. It didn't seem to surprise Dean, either.

"Well I know he hasn't killed anyone human since he died," Dean said in defense of his friend.

Buffy's brow furrowed. "Now color me confused. Benny never killed a human? Not once? What do you mean, he died? He's a vampire, so that makes sense – a human death. Unless you're talking about vampire death, which would have left him nothing but dusty? This whole thing is giving me a headache."

Benny shifted uncomfortably. "I gave up on killing humans about fifty years ago. And then my maker cut off my head. I met Dean in Purgatory."

"Really? So you actually died, too? Mind telling me who resurrected you both?" The mere mention of that word caused a shiver to crawl up Buffy's spine. "You know what? I don't really care. Just tell me - was this the first, second or third time you 'supposedly' died?" Faking one's own death didn't sit well on someone who had actually died twice in less than thirty years.

"According to my brother, over a hundred times. I've sorta lost count." Dean said, jokingly.
Buffy took offence to his light-hearted attitude. "And here I thought Spike and I were unique with two actual deaths to our names."

"Don't get snippy, Princess," the man laughed. "It's easy. All you have to do is catch the interest of the archangel Gabriel, and you'll see how many times he can Groundhog Day you."

"Now we're talking archangels? Angels aren't even real," Buffy snorted. Sounded like someone was trying to pull her leg. "Well, I know someone named Angel, but he's no angel."

"Try telling that to the grand pooftah," Spike muttered, sotto voce, earning a well-earned glare from his girl.

"Keep on believing that, sweetheart. See how long you last." Dean sounded cocky, too cocky, in Buffy's opinion. She would just love to take him down a peg or three.

"You know... it doesn't matter," she huffed, annoyed. "Any of this. What's past is past, and if nobody is killing humans anymore, then this vendetta thing needs to be dropped."

"See, I know vamps. Sure they're dangerous, but some part of them is still human. Demons like your boy though, they're all evil, and the only time they don't lie, is when the truth hurts worse." Dean folded his arms over his chest, looking smug.

"I knew vamps, too," Buffy admitted. "Or I thought I did, until I met Angel. The original vampire with a soul." She looked to Spike, who uncharacteristically stayed silent. "And then I met Spike, who threw every bit of knowledge out the window, both soulless and souled versions."

"A demon?" Dean laughed her revelations off. "You can't trust them. My brother trusted a demon once, and she led him straight to setting off the apocalypse."

"And my demon helped to avert quite a few apocalypses."

"Don't really need to defend me, love," Spike said quietly.

"Yeah, big strong thing like that doesn't need to hide behind a little thing like you."

That's all it took... she'd had enough. Buffy stood nose to well, chin, and demanded. "You might want to rethink that statement, buster." When that only made Dean's smirk wider, she grabbed his hand and flipped him over her shoulder. She planted her stylish, yet affordable boot on his chest.

Before she could press her advantage, a sharp, piercing scream caught her attention from just inside the hotel, followed by Xander's frantic shouting.

"No. No! No!"

Quickly abandoning her 'victim,' she and Spike ran inside, quickly followed by the others. She found Xander on his knees, surrounded by strangers trying to comfort the man.

"What happened, Xan?" Buffy asked, worry lines creasing her forehead. "Where's Dawn?"

"He came out of nowhere. One minute there was nothing and then this guy shows up, dressed in a trench coat and he grabs her, and then they just... disappeared."

"Cas?" Dean called out, searching through the crowd of people.

Buffy felt a familiar knot of panic building in her stomach… the turmoil only Dawn could cause.

It must be Tuesday.