Part Two

Part Two:

Something Borrowed

"Let's get married now."

Anya, who was lying in Xander's bed on the verge of sleep, was suddenly wide awake.

"Now?" Anya sat up and looked down over her boyfriend's naked body.

"Well, not *right* now," Xander said. "But as soon as we can. Just tell me what kind of wedding you want, and we'll start planning it."

"But…but it doesn't seem right," Anya said. "To get married after…"

"I know," Xander said. "But you said it to me after Joyce died. Life, death…it's all part of a cycle. Buffy's gone, and I miss her. Every moment I miss her. So I want to do something to show her, and to show everyone, that our lives are going on. And that her death was worth something." Xander sat up in the bed and put his arms around Anya. "I want us to get married."

Anya looked over at him and smiled. "Alright. Let's do it. As soon as possible." She was about to lie back down when a thought occurred to her. "A church wedding. A big wedding in a church."

Xander kissed her gently on the cheek. "Okay. We'll start preparing tomorrow."

*

Dawn woke up in Spike's arms.

Usually he slept with corpses, and Dawn tried to convince him that she didn't mind doing the same, but he told her quite plainly to "shut her annoying created-by-monks mouth". Spike checked them into a motel, where he showered and bandaged his chest. They spent the rest of the night talking about what they should do next. Then Spike, weakened from the blow dealt to him from the Fyral demon, went out to buy blood. Dawn fell asleep on the king-sized bed before he returned. When she woke up, she felt something like soft stone wrapped around her. It was Spike. Her friend. Her family.

He woke up when she pulled herself out of his grasp.

"Morning, love," he said. He rolled over on the bed and pushed the blanket off his body. He was wearing only his jeans, his chest bare except for the bandage across it. "We still got time to do what you wanted?"

"Yeah," Dawn replied. "It's still early."

Spike began tearing the bandage off his chest. "Might as well call the cab now. If it gets too late we won't have the shade by the door."

Dawn walked to the phone and looked down at it, hesitating.

"But we could do this later, nibblet. Tomorrow, next week even." Spike shrugged. "You're still young, and I'm immortal, so we got loads of sodding time. Argh." Spike ripped the rest of the bandage off in one painful motion, and then reached in his coat for a pack of cigarette. "We could order pizza. And rent Blackadder. Bet you never saw it. Bloody funny stuff."

Dawn smiled. "No, we can go. Better to get it over with." She picked up the phone.

"Alright," Spike said. "But another night, I'm making you watch it. All four seasons. Plus the Christmas and Reunion specials." Spike lit the cigarette.

"Those things are unhealthy, you know," Dawn said when she had hung up the phone.

Spike blew a long stream of smoke out through his nose. "Hello? Undead."

"I mean for me," Dawn said, chuckling. "Secondhand smoke is just as bad as smoking."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Rot."

"It's true! Last year we watched this movie in school about it."

Spike gave Dawn a hard look and shamlessly took another drag.

"Of course, if you don't mind me breathing in your evil toxins, I might as well just start smoking." Dawn reached out and grabbed Spike's pack of cigarettes.

"The hell you will!" Spike lunged for Dawn, but she was already in the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

"Hey! Come on, girl. Cab'll be here soon."

"I'll be out in a minute!" Dawn called out from behind the locked door. "Just as soon as I take up smoking."

"Alright! I'm putting out the fag." Spike dropped his lit cigarette into a cup of water left by the bedside.

"Can't hear you! Too busy becoming addicted to like, tar and stuff."

Spike threw his head back and groaned. "And I will never make you breathe my sodding secondhand smoke again!"

The door flew open, and Dawn greeted Spike with a wide, triumphant smile. Almost immediately a car honked outside their room.

"Bloody hell," Spike muttered.

"We'll talk about the swearing later," Dawn said, as she grabbed her backpack and walked out of the room.

*

"Haven't seen you in church for a while, Alexander."

Anya and Xander sat across from the priest, separated from him by a large, intimidating desk.

"It hasn't been that long, has it?" Xander asked nervously. "Maybe one or ten years."

"Anya Jenkins," the priest said, reading off the sheet of paper he'd had Xander fill out.

"Present!" Anya said.

The priest looked up over his bifocals. "Miss Jenkins, have you received the Sacraments?"

"Sacrawho?" Anya responded.

"Were you Baptised and Confirmed when you were a child?"

"Oh, as a child! No, you see," Anya explained. "Up until about two years ago I was a demo-"

"Protestant!" Xander shouted suddenly. "She was a Protestant. But she converted."

Anya smiled widely. "Yes."

*

The house seemed sterile. All the beds were made, the dishes washed, and the furniture looked as if it hadn't even been touched. Spike could see why Dawn hated it.

She led him to her small room on the second floor. This too was spotless, though Spike was sure Dawn hadn't left it that way. Dawn went into her closet and began to dig around.

"So the fake family won't be back for a while?"

"Nah," Dawn said from within the closet. "They both work past five. Here it is."

Dawn emerged with a large box. "This is it." She looked at it warily, as if she was unable to move with it in her hands.

Spike reached out to her. "Want me to open it?"

Dawn shook her head. "I should do it."

She placed the box down on the bed and opened it. One by one, she removed each item and named it.

"This is a plant I took off a grave. This is a statue I took from a crypt. This is a book I took from the Magic Shop…you remember this book. This is a necklace I took from the fake mother. These are earrings I took from Anya. This is a jewel I took from a crypt. And this is a book I took from Willow and Tara."

Dawn sat down on the bed, as if exhausted by the effort. Spike began putting everything back inside the box.

"So how do I do this?" she asked.

"Dunno," Spike said. "I've stolen plenty in my 127 years, but I've never returned anything."

"Not stolen," Dawn said softly. "Just…borrowed." She sighed. "We better get this over with before I totally chicken out."

"Just one problem, sweet bit. We barely got here without me frying."

"I'm way ahead of you, big brother." Dawn reached into the closet and took out a large umbrella and a hat.

*

"And as we all remember from my horrible experience, a Fyral demon is quite-"

"Pink and blue!"

Giles, Willow, Tara, and Xander all turned to stare at Anya.

"For our wedding," Anya said. "We should have pink and blue as the colors."

"As excited as I am about your impending nuptials," Giles said. "There's a Fyral demon in town, and we must concentrate our energies on-"

"Clouds!" Willow said. "You could have clouds as the theme."

"Ooo yeah, and little plastic angels." Tara said.

Giles sat down. "I give up."

A knock on the door distracted them all from continuing the discussion.

"Who could that be?" Xander asked.

The door swung open and Dawn stepped in.

"Dawnie!" Willow had her arms around her in a moment.

"You're okay," Tara said, coming up beside them. "We were worried about you."

"Dawnster!" Xander took his turn at a hug.

"Come in, Dawn," Giles said. "Sit down."

"Um…" Dawn gestured outside the doorway. Spike stood holding a small cardboard box and a large blue umbrella. A wide-brimmed women's winter hat rested on top of his head. Regardless of these precautions, a thin line of smoke was rising from Spike's neckline.

Giles stifled a laugh.

"Bugger off, Rupert! Invite me in!"

"Of course, Spike, come in," Giles said, chuckling.

*

"I'm sorry," Dawn said, so softly that she didn't think Anya heard her until she felt Anya's hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright," Anya said. "Really. They didn't even cost a lot of money."

Anya placed her earrings down on the table.

"It's very brave what you've done today," Giles said. "I hope you can continue to um…show such strength."

Spike looked up from the bag of Doritos he was attacking. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Giles sighed. "Spike, you don't need to eat for sustenance. Why are you consuming my food like an animal?"

Spike held up the bag, displaying the front label. "New and cheesier. Now tell the girl what you mean."

"Dawn," Giles said. "You need to be more…uh…accepting of your foster parents."

"No," Dawn said immediately. "No, I hate them. I hate being there."

"But you must understand," Giles continued. "If you leave their care permanently, or if they become tired of your rebelliousness, they can report it to Social Services. If this happens, you'll be placed in a group home with security measures. And since there are no such facilities in Sunnydale, that means you'll be moved away from us."

"No," Dawn said, her eyes filling with tears. "They can't do that. You guys are all I have left! They can't just -"

"They won't," Spike interrupted. "You hear that, little bit? You do whatever the hell you want, and no one's taking you out of Sunnydale. No one's taking you anywhere."

Giles sighed. "Spike, you're making an impossible promise."

"Sod off! She's miserable with those wankers, so she's not going back there. And no one takes her away. Even if they find her, they won't take her. Not from me."

"But Spike," Willow said. "The people from Social Services, the police, they're all human. You can't hurt them."

Spike put the bag of Doritos down and looked away from the group. "Chip doesn't work."

It was so silent they could hear the refrigerator humming in the next room.

"It doesn't?" Dawn said quietly.

"When did this happen?" Xander asked.

"Right after…" Spike stood up. "During the big fight with Glory. I pushed one of the crazies out of the way and I didn't feel a thing. And since then…I've tested it. Time ran out, bloody battery went dead, whatever. It doesn't work."

"Have you, ya know, killed people?" Tara asked.

Spike groaned and paced to the other side of the room.

"Have you?" Dawn choked out.

"No," Spike said. "Are you happy? I haven't killed one sodding person. I started a fight in a bar, just to test it out, but I left the guy alive. Barely a scratch on him. So now you can all do the Spike's-A-Big-Nancy-Boy dance, and then Dawn and I will be on our way."

"How exactly does that dance go?" Xander said. "Because I would very much like to do it."

"Regardless of this discovery," Giles said. "Spike, Dawn's a young girl. She needs a structure. She needs a family."

"You guys are my family," Dawn said. "And I think I've been through enough lately that I don't need to be all emotionally protected."

Giles continued to stare at Spike. "And now we also have to determine if you can still be trusted."

Dawn stood up quickly. "No, Giles, he saved me, just last night!"

A low growl came from Spike's throat. "I'm going out for a walk and a smoke," he said. He tore his gaze away from Giles and locked eyes with Dawn. "I'll be back."

*

The sun had just set when Spike left Giles' apartment. He really wanted to kill that man, but he knew that would only make matters worse.

He strolled down the main street of town, chain-smoking and trying to push murderous images out of his mind. A few people sat in the coffee shop, but it was too early for Sunnydale's pathetic excuse for a nightlife to begin. As Spike passed a boarded-up building, he suddenly thought of how he could use the early-evening quiet to his advantage.

Sunny Jewelry had been closed for at least a year. Rumor was that the owners had been killed by vampires, and their corpses left to rot until the smell became overpowering to people walking down the sidewalk. With decomposing flesh came rats, and since few people wanted to buy a place with that kind of reputation, the building had been condemned.

Spike wondered if anything had been left behind. He could take something for Dawn, something to cheer her up. He would tell her he'd bought it. She'd given up her stealing, but Spike had made no similar vow. Besides, a bit of destruction would make him feel like less of a pansy for just revealing his dark secret to a group of people he despised.

After making sure that no one was around to see him, Spike easily elbowed in the boards covering the door and entered he dark building.

The room still smelled like death and vermin, but just as Spike had suspected, some of the old wares had been left behind. A few necklaces lay forgotten in the display case. He was about to smash in the glass when he heard a voice.

It took him only a second to discern that it was coming from the back room. He crept to the door silently, and pushed it open just a fraction of an inch. The voice was clear now.

"I know I'm bad. I'm sorry, Daddy. Please don't go. I know I'm a terrible, terrible person, but just don't leave us. Please don't leave us! Ooooh, it's all my fault! I'm so horrible! I'm so bad!"

Spike recognized the voice immediately, and another slight push of the door confirmed it.

It was Buffy.