Summary: This takes place during Spiral, when Buffy gets the transportation they need to escape from Glory. This is the conversation between her and Spike, as she gets Spike to help them.

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy etc own all characters. I'm just playing with them. Trying to feed my addiction until Season 6 begins...

Archiving: Sure, but e-mail me (sheristeeves@hotmail.com) to let me know.


The door to his crypt burst open, crashing with a resounding thud against the wall. Cement dust filtered down from the ceiling, dancing in the ray of afternoon sunlight now sliding in the open door. Slouched down in his armchair so that he was hidden from view, Spike sighed. Only one person ever entered his crypt that way.

"Spike!" the Slayer's voice rang out. "Where are you?" Her quick footsteps echoed through the barren crypt. "Oh please be here." The last sentence was said quietly, as if he was not meant to hear it.

Rising from his dilapidated armchair and turning to face her, Spike greeted her with his usual cocky attitude.

"Slayer. What's got your knickers in a ..."

The rest of what he was going to say trailed away as Spike saw her. One look at her face told him that something big was up. Bigger than when she hid her mum and kid sister with him to protect them from Glory, before they all learned that Dawn was The Key. Bigger than when Buffy had had him watch Dawn while she went to the hospital to be with Willow, after Glory had brain-sucked Tara. That look could only mean one thing.

"Nibblet?" Spike managed to ask, an unneeded breath catching in his throat.

"Glory knows Dawn is The Key. We need to get out of town. Now."

"We. Meaning you and the Scoobies need to get out of here and you need my help again." Spike spit out angrily. One hundred and twenty-odd years of cocky defensiveness overrode a year of being Chip Boy. Anger flared, momentarily surpassing his concern for Dawn. The tone of his voice gave no indication of the pain he felt inside. Not included. Again. Good enough to help, but not good enough to be a part of. Just because he was a vampire didn't mean that he didn't have feelings and emotions. They were all so hung up on the soul he didn't have, they never considered the feelings he did have. Vampires were demons with primal urges and emotions. Weren't love and hate the most primal of all emotions? Spike reached for his cigarettes, shook one out and lit it.

"There is no one else who can help, Spike! No one else can help me protect Dawn from Glory. You and I are the only ones who can do ANY damage to her at all."

"Oh, so that's why you want me around. Don't think I've forgotten how much damage she does back. I've only just healed over from that you know." Spike spoke around the cigarette as he took a drag, and turned and walked towards the tomb at the back. He didn't care about the others. Well, not that much. And not that he would ever let them know. He cared about Buffy more. He wanted HER to need him. And then there was Nibblet. He couldn't stomach the thought of what that Glory chick would do to her. Definitely wasn't milk and cookies and a sleepover. He would help, but he wasn't going to make it easy for Buffy. His pride demanded that much. What was left of his pride. Between the chip and getting rejected every time he tried to help, tried to show them he had changed, there wasn't much. He took another drag on the cigarette.

"Look, if I had any money I'd pay you..." Buffy took a step toward him.

With a snarl, Spike turned back to the Slayer. "I don't want your bloody money."

Incredulously, Buffy stared at him. Spike always wanted money. If money wasn't going to work, what would?

"Spike, I know you care for Dawn. She needs you now. We all need you..."

"Oh yeah, ...like the other scoobies are going to want me along. The only one I care about needing me, 'cept for Niblet, is you, but that's not bloody likely now is it? Besides, if you lot run off, Glory follows you, I'm safe. No more being being used as a punching bag by a nuttier than a fruitcake god on a bad hair day. Sounds all right to me."

"You can't stay here anymore that we can stay here. The first thing Glory will do is track down each of us. She finds you here and the rest of us gone, she'll torture you again. This time she will kill you." Buffy stepped closer to Spike as she spoke. "I don't want that."

"Want the pleasure of staking me all to yourself, eh Slayer?" Her words repeated in his head. She didn't want him dead.

Buffy walked up to Spike, her patience gone, urgency apparent in the way she moved.

"Spike! Please! I don't have time for this. I can't return your feelings. Right now, I don't even know if I can love anyone. But this, this is for Dawn. You're the only one I can turn to for this, the only other person I can trust. Yes, I do trust you. I don't know why, really, but I do. And now, I'm trusting you with my life, the lives of my friends...' Buffy paused, " the life of the only family I have left."

At these words, the vampire turned away from Buffy, his anger disappearing. He knew how much Dawn meant to Buffy, especially after her mother's death. Joyce's death had hit them all hard. Trust. Such a small word to mean so much. Trust was rare in a vampire's world. You'd work together for a common goal, or take a fella's cash if he wanted a favor, but you could never really trust a bloke. Trust. Trust was better than hate. Better than indifference. Better than tolerance. Not as good as love... but better. A start. A crumb.

Spike dropped his cigarette and ground it out underfoot. He grabbed his duster from the top of the tomb where he had thrown it earlier and turned to face Buffy. He could see the tension in her face, in the lines of her body, in the way she stood poised as if to run or defend at any moment. Spike shrugged into his duster, automatically checking the pocket for his smokes. Locking his blue eyes with her worried hazel ones, Spike looked intently at Buffy. No pretending, no mask of indifference, no cocky attitude, no posturing. Just himself.

"Anything for you, Buffy. What do you need."