Ch 7

"Pronto," answered the familiar voice over a static-filled line. Dawn had to snicker quietly over her sister's attempt at Italian. Language was never particularly her strong-suit—action and violence, Buffy Summers could handle, but her mastery of Italian still needed work.

"It's me," Dawn replied flatly, sighing at the upcoming confrontation. She rolled her eyes out of habit, instantly regretting her promise to Spike that she would call her sister this morning. Logically, she knew that coming clean with Buffy would be a far better choice than repairing any damage Angel might do by tattling via long-distance, but Dawn still dreaded the impending rant.

"Where the hell are you?" Buffy's proficient, and yet, colorful use of English rapidly returned. The twenty-three year old slayer could never quite figure out where Dawn inherited the independent streak that had taken her halfway around the world.

"No…no…not hell—remember, nasty cut, chanting Wiccas, hordes of demons I sent back home?" Dawn replied flippantly. "Not hell…just L.A."

"Well, there's one bleach blonde demon that I'm sure is still lurking about. Put him on—I'd like to know why he lied to me when I called yesterday," Buffy sarcastically insisted.

"He's with Angel right now, cleaning out a new vamp nest this morning," Dawn replied to Buffy's request. "And anyway, none of this is Spike's fault, Buffy," Dawn firmly declared. "Yesterday, I had just walked in the door, completely unannounced-I was tired, hungry, desperately in need of a shower, and just not in the mood to have this conversation with you."

"Well, you could have told me you were flying across two continents and an ocean, you know," Buffy petulantly admonished.

"I talked to Andrew when I couldn't get a hold of you," Dawn sighed, trying to avoid the hint of condescension that wanted to creep into her voice. Though her message was light on the specifics, her sister should have been able to figure out her destination—"Heading home to check out colleges" was an adequate itinerary in Dawn's mind. Los Angeles would have to serve as a reasonable substitute for home, considering Sunnydale was just a fond memory.

Buffy groaned, having forgotten that any message filtered through Andrew was bound to be missing some key information. She needed to educate the twerp that he was not to edit her messages, screen her calls, or dismiss her visitors as he saw fit. Buffy relented in her tirade against her sister, knowing that making contact with the modern world had been nearly impossible in recent days.

"Sorry, the Caucasus aren't exactly cell-friendly yet. Took us a week to slay this nasty she-viper, breeding all sorts of random big bads—dragons…hell-dogs…crazy, cross-bred monsters…you name it, she gave birth to it."

"Local or inter-dimensional?" Dawn inquired, nonplussed.

"Local but dormant for the last several thousand years," Buffy replied matter-a-factly. "Giancarlo figured the last big apocalypse must have woken-up some of the ancient nasties around here. We've been so busy with slaying that I had to hire Ilona as a wedding planner."

"Ilona with the big boobs and loud mouth, Ilona?" Dawn asked incredulously.

"Well, after the big shakedown at Wolfram and Hart, she needed the work—and, obnoxious as she is, the woman does have major connections—got me a 30% discount on the cake, definitely of the good," Buffy related proudly. "I don't know what she did to get the discount—and more importantly, I don't want to know," Buffy didn't want to think too hard about Ilona's business tactics, but as evil corporate executives turned wedding planners went, Ilona was top-notch.

Dawn couldn't help but laugh at her sister's account of the supernatural and the mundane all in a single conversation. The young brunette's likely backlash of guilt and betrayal diminished as Buffy discussed her upcoming wedding, though Dawn was not ready to openly reveal her plans concerning Spike just yet. She didn't want to threaten the tentative peace with her sister and possibly jinx her potential deflowering at the hands of the sweet, sexy vamp in question.

"So have you and Giancarlo finally set a date?" Dawn pressed, knowing Buffy's tendency to backpedal from emotional commitments. The eighteen-year-old's fears of disloyalty lessened further still at her sister's affirmative answer.

"Um, yeah, July 15th…8:30 pm in the gardens of Villa Romano—his parents' estate. Big arbor covered in moonflowers, ornate fountains, cobblestone path…and hey, it's free," Buffy quipped. "And I picked mid-summer so you could be back in time for fall semester. You are going to start checking out colleges, right?" Buffy stressed, trying to make sure her sister stayed on track. Buffy smiled at Giancarlo who had just come in from his run, heading to the kitchen for a water before joining Buffy at the kitchen table.

"Well, yes, Buffy, I did just fly thousands of miles to do that very thing," Dawn looked toward the ceiling in exasperation.

"Don't roll your eyes at me," Buffy chided, even though she couldn't directly witness her sister's reaction. Buffy's fiancé chuckled quietly as he took a sip from the blue bottle.

"Well, first things first, Spike is taking me shopping when he gets home as the only thing I have to wear right now is my plaid skirt and white blouse that's two sizes too small. Not to mention, I'm down to one bra and pair of panties that I had to wash out in the sink last night."

"Dear Lord," Buffy muttered, pulling Giancarlo's glasses off his face and cleaning them with the bottom of her shirt tail.

"Donna matta," Giancarlo grumbled under his breath as Buffy absently handed the polished glasses back.

Giancarlo just smiled and shook his head, dropping a kiss atop Buffy's head on his way to the study.

"Dawnie, I could have sent you some clothes if you had just let me know you were leaving the country," Buffy sighed, not happy about Dawn trekking across half the globe in her Catholic schoolgirl uniform that no longer fit the curves Dawn had acquired in the last year. The current absence of her sister's undergarments as she waited for Spike to return was something else Buffy didn't want to think about, especially since Giancarlo's glasses weren't currently available for cleaning.

"If you hadn't left Assisi in such a rush…"

"Buffy, barely anyone would talk to me, the girls on my hall all started praying the rosary whenever they crossed my path, and my knees were chafed from all the contrition—as soon as I could leave—I did," Dawn asserted.

"Look, I'm sorry…I just wanted to protect you, do what was best," Buffy insisted, though she and Dawn had this argument many times before.

"I know, Buffy, and I did *my* part…studied hard, steered clear of demons, averted world destruction…," Dawn teased, trying to lighten the mood once again. "But now…I need to do what's right for me. I wanted to come home…visit some colleges…see Spike…," Dawn snuck the blonde vampire into her list, hoping Buffy wouldn't examine her motives too closely.

"How is he?" Buffy asked in genuine concern. "I heard he and Angel were pretty banged up after their big battle."

"Still pretty sore yesterday…mmm, but he seemed to be feeling much better this morning," Dawn replied, trying to quiet the hint of wickedness sneaking into her voice.

"Um…ok, then," Buffy replied, trying to turn a blind eye to the reason for Spike's rapid recovery. "Anyway, please pass the word to Angel that if he plans on stirring up any more apocalypses in the near future, he'd better call me personally. No sense in risking the whole of southern California without a little back-up," Buffy snarked.

"Well, I imagine you'll be hearing from the great brooding one within an hour or two. You can tell him so yourself," Dawn retorted good-naturedly.

"Always the busybody, that one," Buffy chuckled, realizing Angel would waste no time in reporting Dawn's arrival in L.A. "I hope there's some good slaying tonight—I'm afraid I'm going to need it."

"Tell Giancarlo I said hi," Dawn wound the conversation down, "and be careful out there tonight."

"Same goes for you," her sister replied, "Take care of yourself," Buffy softened and added, "and take care of Spike, too…."

"And that's why…," Spike taunted as his powerful left hook sent a cocky fledgling bouncing off a steel pillar and onto the splintered leg of an abandoned office chair, Spike dispatching his tenth vamp of the morning, so far .

"You poncy buggers don't come into my town," a swift kick to the next vamp's solar plexus sent him sailing through the glass of a far window, to meet his dusty end as the sun broke over the horizon.

"And try to set up shop," he spat out, dusting his final vamp with the traditional stake through the heart, the peroxide blonde sidestepping quickly to avoid the shower of powdery remains that threatened to land on his boots.

Spike bounced on the balls of his feet, scanning for any demons who thought they might hide away from a quick retribution at the hands of the souled vampire. Spike tensed as he felt another vampire nearby, but then quickly relaxed as Angel's scent and family signature made their presence known.

"I thought we said 6?" Angel seemed miffed at missing out on the morning's action and a little stunned that Spike was willing to take on the entire nest alone, considering the injuries he had recently suffered.

"Sorry, mate, just anxious to take care of the soddin' bastards," Spike continued to bounce like a prizefighter, ready to take on another dozen or so. "Got me somewhere I need to be," he replied, knowing his guest's identity would not remain secret for long.

"Would you just stop that damned bouncing for a minute?" Angel stepped toward Spike to still him with his hand, and as he did so, moved close enough to smell Dawn's unmistakable scent all over his childe.

"What the hell did you do?" Angel grabbed Spike by the lapels of his duster, shoving him against a crumbling plaster wall.

Spike's mood quickly shifted, shoving Angel hard, sending him skidding on his ass across the hard, tile floor.

"Back off, Grandpa," Spike sneered, smiling that Peaches winced at the pain in his backside. 'Serves him right,' the younger vampire added to himself.

"Dawn showed up unexpectedly yesterday and is staying with me while she visits some of the nearby universities," Spike replied, sounding vaguely like the Watcher as he reported the highly edited facts.

Finally rising from the floor, Angel took a deep breath as he neared Spike though did not make the mistake of laying hands on the younger vampire again.

"Doesn't smell like a purely platonic visit," the elder vamp accused, cocking his head knowingly.

Spike certainly couldn't deny what was obvious to Angel's enhanced senses.

"This is none of your business, Peaches," Spike warned, not looking for a fight of this sort, but willing to finish it if need be.

"What are you thinking, Spike?" Angel roared. "She's a kid, for God sake!"

"She's eighteen, you wanker!" Spike shot back. "Now, how old was Buffy when you started dating her?" Spike inquired sarcastically, knowing full-well she was two years younger than Dawn is now.

"This is not about me!" Angel retorted.

"That's the only true thing you've said all morning!" Spike cast a side-long look at his interfering grand-sire. Knowing Angel's tendency to mind other people's business and act on his unilateral judgments based on 'what he thought best,' Spike readied his rebuttal to Angel's age-old pronouncement.

"She should try to live a normal—," Angel was cut off by Spike's rapid-fire reply.

"Do you ever actually listen to yourself, you ponce? I've loved that girl for nearly her whole life! Took care of her, protected her, got myself tortured for her," Spike's ire at Angel's interference was growing by the second. "I'd do anything for that girl, give her anything she needed. She gave up on normal a long time ago, mate, just like her sister. And frankly, I'm done discussin' it, cause I've got a beautiful young woman in my apartment. Need to bring her some breakfast and head off to take her shoppin'," Spike straightened his rumpled lapels with a firm tug before moving to leave the gutted office building.

Angel sighed in shamefully sighed in resignation, realizing too late that Spike's romantic life was no longer any of his business. He moved on to another piece of news that had plagued him for the last couple of days—yet another person's love life that he could no longer influence.

"I heard Buffy was getting married," Angel called after Spike, figuring he might as well broach the subject since it was evident that Spike was moving on.

"Yeah, she told me yesterday on the phone. I wished her my most sincere congratulations," Spike replied evenly, turning his face back to his grand-sire, so the validity of his words would not be doubted.

"Are you going?" Angel asked sheepishly after their recent tussle.

"If Dawn wants me to escort her, than I suppose so," Spike nodded thoughtfully, hoping that such an arrangement would be ok with the bride and groom.

"We could fly over together, if you want…," Angel stammered awkwardly. "The private jet's in hanger 17 at the Burbank airport," Angel reminded, another Wolfram and Hart souvenir secreted away for their future use.

"I'll talk to Dawn and see what she wants to do," Spike smiling at the return to civilized conversation. As the younger vamp turned to go, he was reminded of the last request he needed to make of Angel that morning. With a wicked smirk he turned back to the elder vampire.

"By the way, I'm gonna' be using the beach house sometime in the next couple of weeks—gotta' girl to impress and all that. So, Angel…make sure you knock.