It was late by the time the two slayers got into the overcrowded house. Giles had agreed that everyone staying together was for the best, blatantly ignoring Anya's protests to the contrast and Xander's glum remark about having remade the closet for nothing.

The lights were off and Giles was snoring on the couch. With parting looks, the two girls separated for their different sets of stairs. On stealthy steps produce from years of sneaking in and out of her house, Buffy slipped into the bathroom to wash up for bed.

Ten minutes later, she crept into her darkened bedroom to find her creature of the night boyfriend dead asleep. It appeared that living with humans was taking a severe toll on his sleep cycle. Smiling at his gaping mouth and sprawled form, Buffy stripped out of her clothes and into the too large black shirt thrown at the end of her bed.

With continued stealthiness, she cuddled up to the cold form of solid muscle. Her arms slipped loosely around Spike's torso and she buried her face in the curve of his neck. With muffled sounds, he rolled over, looking at her with his brilliantly familiar blue eyes.

"How's the slayer bitch?"

There was a spasm of time where Buffy thought the uncouth comment was directed at her, then there was a moment after where she had to clasp her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

Spike smirked, clearly pleased with this result. "Still alive? Still bawdy?"

"Bawdy?" Buffy asked, eyes sparkling.

"Yeah. Loud. Coarse. Obnoxious."

"As opposed to you?" Her mouth drew up in a knowing smirk.

"Oi! Watch it there, Slayer." Spike snatched her around the waist, drew her roughly up against him. His gaze slid down her body possessively then fixed on her neck. "Playing with fire there." His fangs pressed against the side of her neck.

Buffy rolled easily away, flipping her hair back as she did so. "Faith is . . ." She closed her eyes and shrugged. "She's Faith. I don't know what to say besides that."

"Don't like her," was his only reply. When his hands fell to her waist this time, it was to slowly close the distance between them, his vampire visage already gone.

"Yeah, well, I think that feeling is pretty prevalent in this house and so is my response." Buffy rested her head against his chest, her fingers etching the outline of his abdominal muscles, enjoying the artificial rise and fall of his chest.

"Mm." Spike's fingers tangled in her hair. Silence passed between them peaceably. Spike bent his neck to inhale deeply the scent of her strawberry shampoo. Buffy wrinkled her nose.

"You're not a dog and you already have a heightened sense of smell. Is the sniffing really necessary?"

"You're not going to chop it off now, are you?" he asked instead of answering.

"What it are we talking about, because seriously, ew –"

"You hair, you bint," he nipped at her neck, "you're not going to chop off your hair are you?"

"Is there any reason I would?" she asked, not seeing the connection between the two comments.

"Last time I called your hair glorious you chopped it all off." The strands fell from his fingers to wreath around her head in disarray, she didn't know how it couldn't be tickling his chest to the point of great aggravation.

"Oh." She frowned. "That was a very different time in my life. An anti-all-things-Buffy time. This is a happy pro-things-Buffy time. You need not fear the wrath of self-inflicted hair cutting."

He bent to sniff her hair again. "Good to know, Precious."

"Mhm, but still, less sniffing."

Spike inhaled deeply.

"You are so annoying."

"You love it," he breathed against her neck.

"Yeah, yeah." But she was smiling as she said it, glad for the easily acceptance of the emotion between them.

"Got to get your rest tonight," he murmured. "A big fight tomorrow."

Buffy nodded against his chest and closed her eyes. Within minutes, she was asleep.

"Sam, I'm serious. You light one more thing on fire in the chem room and Principal Wood is going to have to expel you. That's just how it is." Buffy rubbed wearily at her temples.

The fourth time in three weeks that Samuel Grain had been in the counselor's office for his pyromania tendencies. Even Buffy's most determined Counselor Summer's voice was useless against this kid.

"Yeah, but Mrs. Summers –"

"Ms. Summers! Miss!" Buffy corrected hastily. God, did she look like a Mrs.? She wasn't even twenty-five! Not even half way to a midlife crisis and already being labeled a Mrs.

"Right. Ms. Summers, have you ever really seen fire burn?" He fixed her with serious brown eyes.

Buffy thought of all the times she had witnessed and or started fires. The highlights being the church fire where she had paralyzed Spike and exploding Sunnydale High School the former into a blazing inferno. Fire bad, tree pretty.

"Yes, Sam, I've seen fire burn. In fact I've seen it burn down an entire school." She privately congratulated herself on that excellent channeling of past experiences. "So trust me, fire is not your friend."

Sam gave an aggrieved sigh of someone who is seriously misunderstood. "I wasn't trying to burn down the school."

"I'm sure you weren't. But that's still your fourth fire. I'm going to have to call your parents and let them know about this and Principal Wood is probably going to suspend you. Now, here is your pass, get your things from your locker and head home for the day."

Scribbling incoherently across a pink slip, Buffy handed the pass over to Sam. He groaned, jamming it into his back pocket. "Don't see why Principal Wood has to be such a stickler."

"Be grateful he isn't expelling you," Buffy said, standing up. "Stay out of trouble, please, Sam."

He gave her a half-hearted wave and left her office.

Watching him walk down the hallway through her window, Buffy sunk down gratefully into her computer chair. Seriously. What was wrong with high schoolers?

At least, in her defense, she'd burned down two high schools to save them from evil forces. Sam couldn't use that defense. He was just – a teenager. She shivered. Scary stuff.

Then, of course, there was Dawn who she had seen practically skipping down the hallway holding hands with Davie. She had also seen them kissing at their lockers, but that was something she was trying to block from her memory. No way on Earth was her baby sister old enough to be kissing boys.

Turning her computer monitor back on, Buffy pulled up the link to blue prints of the Vineyard and surrounding area. Spike and Faith were supposed to be gathering weapons and making strategies; Buffy couldn't bring herself to imagine how that was going over.

Still . . . maybe she should check in. Make sure both parties were still alive, as alive as they were able to be. Giles had accompanied Anya to the Magic Box, apparently missing his old job, which left the vampire and slayer at each other's mercy. It wasn't a pretty thought.

With one finger Buffy traced the outline of the Vineyard. The old building had a second cellar. Buffy was going to guess that Andrew was being held there. So really, her call was practical. It wasn't a check up. It was a sharing of information.

Liar.

"Hello?" British tones rolled out when Buffy called the house moments later.

"Hey, Spike."

"Something up, Love?" he asked, his concern coming through the phone lines.

"Well, the Vineyard's got a double cellar . . . I think that might be where Andrew is."

"Good a guess as any. Won't really know till you go down there yourself."

"Right."

"That all?"

Really, double cellar was all the leeway she had given herself for this call? It sounded horribly lame even to her own ears. Better to shove the attention off her then. "How are you and Faith making out?"

She slapped one hand against her face, silently mouth the words 'oh my god.' Had she really just put the words you, Faith, and making out together in one sentence? It was too horrible to contemplate.

"The bint's gone out some where," Spike replied tersely, oblivious to Buffy's faux pas.

She straightened up in her chair. "What do you mean?" The idea of Faith out on the town was not a warm fuzzy one. "Where would she go?"

"To Willie's I think."

"Willie's? Why would she go there?"

"To drink."

Buffy groaned. "Did you guys at least get the weapons sorted?"

"You checking up on us, Love?" There was amusement behind his words.

Buffy shifted the phone to her other ear, fighting against her blush because it was perfectly fine for her to be calling. She was sharing information. "Just wanted to know how things were getting on is all."

"Liar."

Buffy worried that the voice in her head was actually Spike's now. That she heard him when she was thinking and he was always pointing out the things she was pretending not to notice herself. It was very worrisome. She really didn't need a smug British vampire as her Jiminy Cricket. Really, really, she didn't.

"Sam was in again," she said instead of addressing his accusation.

Spike laughed. "What's he burning this time?"

"His lab partner's notebook."

Spike laughed harder. "Right git, that one."

"Agreed. So agreed. I had to give him a whole anti-fire speech."

"Bloody ridiculous coming from you. I had burn marks for months after you set a flaming church on me." She could hear the smile in his words and it made her smile too.

"Please. You so deserved that. Which, by the way, you were a total dick as vampire. I was thinking about it earlier."

"Those the sweet nothings you think about me when we're apart?" She could hear his leer, even envision the way his tongue was curling behind his teeth.

"Whatever. You were a huge dick as a soulless vampire fiend and I think it's about time I called you out on it."

"And you were a bloody self righteous bint." He gave a half pause. "Oh wait, you still are."

Buffy managed an indignant gasp before breaking down into laughter. "You're such a –"

"Pig, don't I know it, Precious. 'Sides. From this end of the line, all I can hear is you complimenting my huge –"

"Oh my god! Conversation so over. Go back to sulking around the basement or whatever it is you do during the day."

"Not sulking around the basement. Rifling through some drawers. Didn't know you had such fancy knickers, Pet."

"Spike!" It came out as a mortified squeak. Though really, how she could be embarrassed about her underwear choices this late in their underwear-flung-across-the-crypt relationship was a bit ridiculous.

"Can't wait to see you out of the yellow ones. The ones with the frilly little sides and –"

"Hanging up now," Buffy warned, one finger hovering over the dial button on the phone stand.

"Love you too, Pet. Hurry home." Then Spike hung up and she was left grinning foolishly at her computer screen. The vineyard's double cellar mocking her from the backlit blueprints.

Two hours later, Buffy was in the car with Dawn, heading over to the Magic Box where the others had gathered. It was nice to get them all out of the house. Really nice. The house was starting to feel unbelievably cramped.

Reaching forward, Buffy turned down the radio. "Dawn, I have to talk to you about something."

Her younger sister stopped singing along to the radio, turning to her with wary brown eyes. "We haven't had sex, I swear."

Buffy stepped down on the gas in surprise and the car jolted forward before she slammed on the breaks. "What?"

"Right. So that wasn't what you wanted to talk to me about." Dawn perked up, giving her most winning smile. "What were you going to say?"

"Oh no. Rewind. Sex? Who is having sex?"

"You and Spike. Possibly Anya and Xander –"

"Dawn! Are you having sex with Davie?"

"No . . . I just said that. I said we haven't had sex."

"But you could be lying!" Buffy felt panic assailing her.

She was turning into an old woman, freaking out at the mention of sex! This is why Sam had called her Mrs. not Ms. Her sister was aging her prematurely. She was going to have grey hair by the time she was thirty. Spike was definitely going to have to start dying his hair grey then too! She wasn't going to look old and have him look perfect forever. It was ridiculous. Insulting really and –

"Buffy? The light's green. And you should seriously breathe because you're starting to turn funny colors."

Buffy eased her foot of the gases and focused on sounding clam when she said, "Dawn. This is serious. I won't be mad, I promise, but I need to know that –"

"Please, please save the sex talk. Mom had it with me while you were dating Riley, so we are all clear on that one. I'll glove his banana, no worries."

"His what?" Buffy frowned, driving five below the speed limit to draw out her private time with Dawn.

"Ew. I'm not saying that word to you."

"Right, okay. But just, be careful, when you do. And I know you probably don't want to hear this and I can feel myself turning into mom as I say this, but you haven't really known Davie that long and this is something really special and I want it to be special for you and –"

Dawn laid her hand over her sister's knee. "Don't worry Buffy. I already told Davie no hanky-panky. It's fine."

Buffy nodded, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. "That's good, Dawn. That's really – I'm proud of you."

Dawn beamed. "Of course you are. I'm the perfect little sister."

Buffy breathed out a shaky laugh. "Let's not get carried away. I saw your algebra test."

"That was so not my fault! I did solve for the X, I just didn't solve it correctly," she trailed off sheepishly.

Releasing one hand from the wheel, Buffy squeezed her sister's hand. "Still, I'm proud of you."

"Thanks." Dawn squeezed back. "So what did you want to talk about?"

Buffy sighed, flicking on her turn signal. "Wait to overreact until I'm finished, okay?"

Dawn mimed zipping her lips shut.

"Tonight, Faith, Spike, and I are going to rescue Andrew. You and the others aren't coming. You are going to stay at the house. You are really absolutely going to stay there. If you so much as put a foot outside the house I will ground you from seeing Davie again until you are both so old the idea of sex is gross to you."

A moment passed, then another. When Dawn didn't say anything right away, Buffy was worried. But looking over, she could tell that her sister was thinking hard. That was never a great sign either really, so Buffy continued to worry.

"Did you talk to Giles about this?" Dawn finally asked.

They were sitting in the parking lot of the Magic Box now, neither making a move to leave the car. "Yes, I did."

"And he's letting you go with Faith?"

"Dawn, Faith is here to help –"

"So that means we should trust her? Right, because she has done so much to earn that trust. Killing a guy and blaming you, almost killing Angel, working for the Mayor, taking over your body, threatening Mom. Yeah, she's the picture of trust." Dawn crossed her arms over her chest, lips pursed in anger.

"Dawny, I know, I do. But things are different now and I need her help. I can't do this without her."

"Yes, you can! Haven't Willow, Xander, and Giles helped you with all the other apocalypses, why can't they do it again?"

"Because they can't, Dawn. I'm sorry."

"Fine. I'll help you."

"Dawn." Buffy sighed. "Nothing is going to happen to me. I promise."

"You can't promise that," her voice wavered.

Buffy reached over and closed her sister into a hug. Dawn wrapped her arms tightly around Buffy, burying her face in Buffy's shoulder and crying. Buffy ran her fingers through Dawn's hair like she had when they found out Mom was sick, like she had since Dawn was a little girl.

"Dawny, it's going to be okay. But for me to be able to do what I need to do to save Andrew, I have to know that you will stay in the house. That you will be safe. I can't go in there and worry about you. I care too much about you, I wouldn't be able to focus on anything else. Please, promise me you'll stay safe."

Dawn clutched at her harder, sniffling to find her voice. "Promise me you will."

"Of course I will," Buffy promised, kissing Dawn's hair.

"I promise too."

Buffy squeezed her tight, then drew back. "Thank you."

Dawn nodded, wiping at her eyes. Buffy smiled, cupping Dawn's cheek and thumbing away the last of her tears. "Ready to go in there?"

Dawn sniffled again. "Did you – did you tell me before you told them?"

"Yeah. I knew you'd be the hardest one to convince."

Dawn smiled and except for her red rimmed eyes she looked her normal self. "Well, you are my idiot sister. Someone has to look out for you."

"Ah, back to childish insults, you must be good to go." Buffy took the keys from the ignition, pausing with her hand on the door handle. "Do you really think Anya and Xander are having sex?"