Marie | Anya closed the door behind the departing customers, then turned and surveyed the empty shop, content after a long day of excellent sales. Two months of running it practically by herself, yet opening and closing the shop every day still gave her a wonderful sense of belonging. She wondered, c an life get any better than this? She had a sudden mental picture of Xander at home in bed, waiting for her. Anya smiled to herself as she decided that it certainly could. And if he isn't already in bed, he soon will be. Anya had finished most of the day's register balancing before the last of her customers had gone, and there was little to do that couldn't wait until morning. She checked to make sure the back door was locked and everything else was secure. Anya picked up her keys, grabbed her coat and purse, and made her way towards the front of the shop. She had just started to reach for the handle when the door opened and Xander walked in. "Yikes!" Anya squeaked, then recovered to pout at him. "You scared me. What are you doing here? Is something wrong? You should be in bed." "Sorry, An, didn't mean to give you a heart attack." Xander laughed as he gave her a hello kiss. "Just thought I'd swing by and take my favorite girl out to eat. Err... in bed?" Sometimes Anya's thought processes still puzzled him, but experience had proven it was always interesting trying to figure them out. He smiled at her. "Never mind. Whaddya say, Italian? In the mood for doing the spaghetti tonight?" "You brought the car?" Anya pulled on her coat, and he straightened out her collar as she buttoned herself up. "Did you clean it? Last time I saw it, your tools covered everything." "Cleaned just this afternoon. Your chariot awaits," he added grandly, and put his arm around her shoulder. He gently pulled her out of the shop, taking the keys from her hand to lock the door behind them. The car was parked right in front of the shop, and in the early evening drizzle, everything glistened. Anya dashed to the car, glad to find it unlocked. As much as she liked people to come to the Magic Box, her feet always hurt at the end of the day. A ride home was bliss, and dinner on the way was even better. Seeing Xander striding around the car, his shoulders hunched against the rain, Anya smiled again, a quiet smile just for herself. Life does get better, she decided. It gets better all the time. Xander hopped in, and passed Anya back the shop keys. He started up the car and headed it towards Martinelli's, a small Italian restaurant just across town. It was quiet and cozy inside the darkened car. The only sound was the soft patter of the rain on the windows and smooth swish of the wipers, and Anya laid her hand on Xander's thigh. She stared out at the quiet streets, squeezing Xander's hand as he placed his over hers. The silence, she'd learned, was a good thing. I like talking, she thought, but sometimes it's nice to just... be. Some distance ahead of them, across the road, she suddenly noticed two people, and something else, following them. Startled, she sat up, letting go of Xander's hand to point. "Xander, look, it's Dawn! Someone's with her, and what -" Even as she spoke, she realized it must be the wolves. Xander had seen them a split second before Anya, and as she spoke, he put his foot down on the gas pedal. Anya nearly screamed as Xander pulled the car around in a high-speed turn, swerving the car sharply to turn down the street the fleeing figures had taken. This is because I said life was good, right? Who's in charge of nasty jokes like this, anyway, Anya thought, sparing a moment of irritation at the evening's sudden unpleasant turn. "Xander, we need to get Buffy," Anya announced. Xander shook his head. "No time. We've got to get her away from those things." "But..." Even as she started to protest, Anya realized that the wolves were too close to catching Dawn and her companion. Xander was right: there wasn't enough time. Anya turned to Xander, a tacit agreement to help. "How?" Xander didn't answer at first, concentrating on driving fast enough to catch up with the dark figures. The twilight and worsening rain hampered their speed. The windshield wipers swished rhythmically as he pushed himself to drive faster. Anya bit back an involuntary cry of protest as she held onto the door handle. Xander will do what's right, she reminded herself. I just wish that what's right isn't nearly always dangerous. She strained to see ahead, and could just about make out the figures of Dawn and the boy ahead of them. The strange wolf-like creatures gleamed silver in the rain, and were moving in a strange manner. They were loping from side to side, sometimes almost getting ahead of Dawn and her companion before falling back again. "Those things are herding them!" she breathed, in a horrified whisper. "Marcus said there were two wolf-cousins after him. There have to be at least six of them!" "Guess the family reunion got a little bigger, huh?" Xander replied, not taking his eyes from the figures ahead of them. "Listen, An, check under the blanket on the back seat - there should be a crossbow there. I think the bolts are under your seat." "What are you going to do?" "Well, sweetie, much as I'd like to catch a movie, right now, or even a plane, I guess I oughta see if Dawn and her pal need a ride, first." He turned his head and grinned at her. "Whaddya say, An?" I'm scared, she thought, but we took on a god. A few wolves are nothing. Anya smiled back at him. "Go us!" "That's my girl!" he announced triumphantly. At the same time, he pressed his foot hard down on the gas pedal. The car fishtailed as they took a wild corner. Steeling himself, he pushed the car doubly fast in the rain. Anya finished loading the crossbow and gripped it in both hands, wishing Buffy would suddenly materialize, when she realized the two figures were nowhere in sight. "Xander, what are you doing?" she asked, confused. "Going around the block. I'm guessing they're just running straight forward, and we'll catch them head on." Xander's voice was tight, and his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Anya closed her eyes momentarily as Xander careened around the next corner. "Let's hope Dawn sees us coming and recognizes the car." He took the last corner without touching the brake pedal, and not a second later Anya caught sight of the two figures down the block, obviously tiring. She pointed them out, and Xander nodded. "All doors unlocked now," he informed her as he undid the automatic locks on the car's doors. He let the car's speed drop. "Get ready with the crossbow." Just as well it's not a longbow, she thought with grim amusement. She wound the window down, the rain slapping her in the face as she did so. "Hold tight, I'm gonna take a wild turn," Xander warned her. "Don't hit Dawn," Anya reminded him anxiously. She sighted along the crossbow, blinking furiously as the rain hit her in the eyes. "I'm aiming for the wolves," he shouted back. Before she had time to draw breath, Xander veered a hard right onto the curb, careering dangerously up onto the sidewalk. Three of the wolves saw the oncoming headlights, and turned to face the car. Xander made right for them and Anya screamed, barely keeping her hold on the crossbow. There was a sickening thump and a long, eerie howl. "I think I got one! Look out on your side!" Xander yelled as he fought to keep control of the car on the slick grass. Anya leaned from the window as one of the creatures came right at her. She took aim, squinted and fired, able to smell the wolf's fetid breath as she shot it point-blank. There was a dull thud. The wolf had dropped to the sidewalk, quivering in its death throes. Anya was busy rolling up her own window to deflect another wolf's lunge as Xander hit the gas pedal, racing the car across the neighborhood playground as he spun in a circle. Frantically Anya began reloading the crossbow. "Beats an iron skillet, doesn't it?" Xander yelled. She had no time to answer before she was flung across the seat, barely grabbing the door handle in time as Xander turned the car and accelerated towards Dawn and the boy. Simon suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He gripped Dawn's hand tightly so that she had to stop, too, or fall. The wolves ran past the two without stopping, not recognizing Simon's maneuver as he pulled Dawn along with him towards the embankment on their right. Suddenly the two teenagers halted, caught by a car's blazing headlights as it headed straight for them. "What the-" Simon started to say something, but was interrupted by Dawn's squeal. "It's Xander! That's Xander's car," Dawn shouted. Instead of him pulling her, she was pulling him in a wild desperate dash towards the oncoming vehicle. The two kids had wheeled in a circle. Xander swore as he realized they couldn't hear him shouting with his window closed. The teenagers' rapid turn had caught the two lead wolves off-guard, and one had slipped in the wet grass, unable to turn so quickly. The other recovered faster, turning to snap at the boy's legs. "An - get the door on your side!" Xander shouted as he accelerated again, yanking the wheel hard to swerve. Xander came up behind the kids and hit the fourth wolf head on, missing the boy by a few inches as Anya reached back to fling the door open. Immediately she started rolling her window back down as fast as she could, the crossbow lying across her lap, ready. "I'm gonna get one more, if I can," she hollered at Xander over the rain. Dawn was screaming as she and Simon spun around to tear the door open and tumble in. The third wolf had regained its footing and was circling the car to catch up with them. Dawn caught the wolf's snapping jaws in the door as she slammed the door shut behind her. Anya turned in her seat, leaning out of the window and took aim. Releasing the mechanism, she was satisfied to see the crossbow take a solid hit in the wolf's shoulder. It yelped and jumped back. "Go, go, go!" she screamed at Xander, who didn't wait for a second invitation. They were all flung backwards as he slammed on the gas pedal and the car took off across the sidewalk, swerving to miss a mailbox before he yanked the wheel and pulled the car back onto the street. Anya finished rolling up the window and turned to see arms and legs in the air as the two young people tried to get untangled. Practically hysterical, the two were collapsed on the back seat, both crying and laughing at the same time. Exhausted from the chase and exhilarated by the rescue, they were high on adrenaline. "Ohmigod! Where did you come from? I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life! I was so scared, and oh, Buffy is so gonna kill us - and we only went to the coffee shop! I'm gonna be grounded 'till I'm thirty!" "Yeah, well, all I wanted was spaghetti," Xander replied, glancing in the rear-view mirror. Any remaining wolves had vanished. "You were awesome," the boy gasped as he caught his breath. "That was severe driving," he added with obvious admiration, before he looked at Anya. "But there were like six of them. How did you-" Anya held up the crossbow in answer. "Got two with this," she said complacently, and his eyes widened. "And we got two with the car," Xander added. His knuckles were still white on the wheel, his heart pounding fast. Anya laid the crossbow on her lap and reached across to put her hand back on his thigh. Immediately he placed his right hand over hers, glancing over at her with a proud smile. Turning to Dawn, Simon said, "These are your friends? You are so lucky." "Yeah." Dawn looked at Xander and Anya and smiled. "I am." "I'd like to know all about your new boyfriend, but first let's take you home," Anya said. "Then you can tell me, um, us, all about him." Xander caught sight of Dawn in the rear view mirror, rolling her eyes at Simon, and grinned. "Sorry, Dawn. You're both soaking wet, and besides, Buffy needs to know about this. Better get it over with, huh?" Looking both ways at the corner, he slowly took the turn towards the Summers' house. After a minute, he leaned back with a sigh and another quick smile for Anya, driving for all the world as if he'd not just ripped tire tracks all over the local playground. "Oh my God, she is so gonna go ballistic." Dawn sighed and turned to Simon. "Look, let me do the talking. That way only one of us gets blasted." Simon grinned at her. "Hey, there were two of us getting' chased back there – reckon there are two of us gonna get any blasting now." Dawn grimaced, and glanced at Xander and Anya. "He doesn't know Buffy," she observed, dismayed. Anya smiled sympathetically at the two soaked kids in the back seat. "She'll be fine, once she realises you aren't hurt. And I can tell her I shot some wolves and Xander ran some over. I can't wait!" As they got out of the car, the front door opened and Buffy came out onto the porch. "I've been calling everywhere, Dawn. Do you know how late it is? You know I've told you to call and let me know where you are. We do have an answering machine. That's what-" "Buffy, whoa! Let's go inside. We need to tell you something." Xander ushered them all inside as he spoke, with one last look up and down the street. It was empty, and he heaved a silent sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him. The others filed passed her silently into the living room. Dawn left momentarily and returned with a towel for Simon as she did her best to dry her hair. Simon laid his towel across the sofa for the two of them. Anya sat in one of the easy chairs, Xander perching next to her on the arm. "What's up?" asked Buffy, suspiciously, standing in the middle of the living room with her arms crossed. "We got chased," Simon blurted out. "By wolves!" "You what?" "We got chased," Dawn echoed, quieter, staring fixedly at the carpet. "Uh, well," Simon began, "we were in the coffee shop after Dawn finished school, just talking, and these guys came in, and they were, uh, weird. They followed us out, and started goin' on about how we had to go with them but we started runnin' then Xander and Anya came along, and ran into 'em and stuff, and Anya shot a couple of 'em with a nifty crossbow thing, y'know, it was cool, really..." Simon trailed to a halt. Buffy's face was a picture of conflicting emotions from his naïve recital. "Are you telling me that some of Marcus' cousins tried to kidnap the two of you?" she asked incredulously, and looked over at Xander and Anya for confirmation. "What the hell is going on?" "It's okay, Buffy, they're okay. They're fine. No-one got hurt, 'ceptin for a coupla ugly lookin' wolf-things." Xander glanced proudly at Anya. "And An, here. You shoulda seen her with that crossbow." "Oh, please. Though I was good," Anya amended. "But you should've seen Xander. He was a regular Mary Angrotty." "Mario Andretti." Xander grinned at her. "Whatever." "Okay. Okay. Just give me a minute, here." Perching a hip on the arm of the couch, Buffy studied Simon and Dawn. "You're both soaked. Simon, go take a shower. Give Dawn your clothes to throw in the dryer." She glanced at Dawn. "And then it's your turn. I'm not having you catch a chill on top of everything else." |
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"How many were there?" She asked Xander. "About six, I guess." Xander glanced at Anya, who nodded. "Ten, total?" "Oh," Anya interjected, as she caught Buffy's drift. "No, we took out four, though I'm not sure if I really got the last one - it may have just been injured. So two or three were left." "Where'd they go?" "Don't know," Xander said, and shrugged. "Once we got Simon and Dawn in the car, the other wolves did a vanishing act." Buffy contemplated this news, obviously unsettled. Finally she nodded at Xander and Anya, and exhaled deeply. "Then we've got to be ready if they interrupt the ritual tonight. I'll meet you at your place in two hours. I'm going to do some patrolling first." Xander looked confused, and Anya sighed. "I forgot to tell you," she said. "Tara came by the shop today to let me know. They've found a ritual that will take the Slayer energy back from Marcus." "Oh," Xander said, and gave the two women a lopsided smile. "I'll be glad when this is over... but I still can't figure out why they went after Dawn." "And will they be safe while we..." Anya caught Buffy's expression, and she left the sentence hanging. "It's not like it's a town secret that Dawn's my sister." Buffy ran a hand through her hair. "Willow left some wards here, so they'll be safe as long as they stay in the house," she said. "God, I hate it when the bad guys think it's creative to do the hostage routine." |
Dawn came downstairs, her head covered with a towel. Buffy was putting away clean dishes in the kitchen. Dawn waited until Buffy had set the last plate in the cabinet and shut the door. "You're just scared," Dawn observed calmly. Her sister's features immediately turned an angry and confused scarlet. "Scared of what?" Buffy's voice was soft and dangerous. Her tone could make most creatures, undead or not, step back in alarm, but Dawn shrugged it off. "That I'll get hurt. And I don't mean like 'paper-cut' hurt. Hurt like you. Like with Angel." "Don't go there." "Why not? Because you have a blindfold wrapped around that part of you? Oh, don't mention 1998 around Buffy!" Dawn threw up her hands. "Some things happen. We know that. Geez, I got my sides cut open by some creepy lizard guy. I can deal. But some things are supposed to be worth it, you know?" "Some things are worth it." Buffy's face softened. "Yes, I'm scared. But most people are scared of the unknown. The shadows they can't see the faces of. I know what I'm scared of, Dawn!" Buffy's calm voice broke. "It's ugly, and it's brutal, and it hurts. I gave away everything... I gave them Angel, I gave them myself, I gave them Mom!" "What are you talking about? Mom, she... you didn't..." "I know." The blonde ran a hand through her hair, trying not to cry. "But, Dawnie... every time... every time I think about her, I feel like... like I couldn't save her." "That's not true." Dawn's face was rigid. "It's not true. You, we, did everything for her. The doctors said so." "Yeah. But it's..." she grasped for words, "it's really... hard for me... to say I lost. But I lost. I gave up everything I ever loved. I let it go, because I had to. But not you." Her hands set on Dawn's shoulders. "I gave up everything else, but not you. I couldn't. I won't." Buffy smiled sadly, and Dawn placed her hands over her sister's. "And I'll still kill anything that tries to hurt you." "Overprotective much?" "Appropriately protective." "Oh, right." "Dawn... I'm sorry. It's wrong to... they're my fears, not yours. I can't stop you from living your life, right? Like you're so fond of telling me." They wrapped their arms around each other, and Dawn spoke from the muffled comfort of her sister's shoulder. "It's okay." I shouldn't be so hard on her, she reminded herself. Dawn thought distantly of a certain lovesick bottle-blond. She even stops herself from living her own life sometimes. | |
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The music blasted in his ears, swelling to a head splitting crescendo with each twirl on the dance floor. Her black eyes bore into his. The harder he tried to pull away from her slashing nails, the more hysterical her laughter. The music became less melodic with each bloody gash that opened on his chest until all that was left was his pain and the pounding drum. Spike jerked awake with a short cry, his eyes darting around his crypt. The dream faded. He laid back, his head pounding in synchronized beats with the rain falling on his roof and stared at nothing as he cursed himself again for losing his prized possession. After a few minutes, he drifted to the edge of sleep as he remembered. "What are you doing? Damn it, Spike!" Dawn's squeal assailed him. "You get the hell inside right now!" "Watch yer language." Spike grabbed his head between his hands. "What the 'ell you doing? Shouldn't you be in school?" He groaned with the effort it took to speak and fell back on the step, eyes closed. "It's five in the morning, you moron." Dawn growled at him, struggling to pull him up by the sleeve of his coat. "School doesn't start for hours. Besides," she gave up pulling on him, and dropped down on the step next to him. "I'm sick today." "Whaddaya mean yer sick? You look fine to me." Spike opened one eye to glance over at her. He knew Dawn had been getting up every morning for the past two weeks to sneak out and check on him, just as he was daring the sun to get to him before he made it inside. Before today though, she'd never actually confronted him. The rest of the gang, patrolling beside him nightly, had no idea of the despair and anger consuming him. Dawn alone understood how much he was suffering. She watched out for him... but I'd rather she'd kept doing it from a distance. "Maybe yer just not getting enough sleep." He spit out sarcastically. "Get on home before I have Wil over here threatening me with green hair or sumthin' worse." He was having trouble maintaining his level of irritation. It tickled him to have Dawn acting parental with him. "I'm not leaving until you get inside. I didn't bring my broom or I'd give you green hair myself." "Yer broom, eh? Witches teaching you how to fly?" Dawn smacked his shoulder and was relieved to see the flicker of a smirk on his face. She yanked on his coat again, prodding him to get up and inside. "I brought you a present, but you don't get it if you're dust." Spike perked up instantly. A present. For me. "Lemme see it," he said, in a voice tinged with skepticism. Dawn shook her head wildly, hair flying around her shoulders. "Not until you get inside." With a wide grin, she hopped up and walked into the crypt. His curiosity piqued, Spike found the energy to get to his feet and stumble inside. "Now close your eyes and hold out your hand." Spike shook his head at Dawn, but did what she asked, surprised at the anticipation he felt. Something very light touched his fingers. "Okay, you can look now!" Dawn was beaming with pleasure. The photograph had been Dawn's birthday present to Buffy. The sisters were smiling for a camera, which had never existed on a day at the beach that had never happened. That didn't matter to Spike. He was overwhelmed with the generosity of her gift. His eyes started to fill up, and he blinked several times while he tried to regain his composure. He'd made a promise, but instead this child was protecting him. She's the closest thing to family I've got, and better than I could've ever hoped for. Spike looked up from the picture to find Dawn anxiously watching him. He smiled at her, lightly kissed the photo and tucked it into his pocket. "It's the best present anyone has ever given me. Now get lost, a guy's gotta get some sleep." "Spike!" He sat up at Buffy's voice, startled, and quickly regretted the move as his head began pounding again. Between the drums in his ears and the rain, he hadn't heard her opening the door. At least there's no more of the barreling in and slamming me to the ground, he thought. "Spike? Spike! What, you forget about patrolling?" Buffy grabbed his coat from the chair and tossed it to him. Spike swung his legs over the side and caught the duster before it ended its descent. His headache forgotten, he was halfway to the door before he noticed that she had stopped moving. Still scowling, he turned to look at her, surprised to see her staring at him, her expression shocked. She moved closer to him, and roughly took hold of his jaw, turning his face toward the flickering light cast by the candles on the wall. Pain shot through his cheek. Oh no, he thought, remembering too late the deep slashes on his face, not yet completely healed. Without a word, Buffy slowly raised the bottom of her shirt just far enough for him to see the identical slashes marring her flesh. Undaunted by the immediate surprise and anger flashing in his eyes, she dropped her shirt back in place and let go of him. "I know where mine came from." Her voice was flat, and her wary look frightened him. "What happened to you?" "Buffy, it's not..." An unfamiliar sense of shame coursed through him and he shuddered. "Maybe it is, but we need to go. Duty calls." He watched her carefully, relieved when she moved up along side of him and walked out the door. She headed out across the graveyard, paying no mind to the drizzling rain as she led the way across the graveyard. Spike waited a minute before he spoke. "I think we have a problem." He immediately cursed himself. Bloody fool, just blurt it out. Buffy had stopped at his tone. He gestured to the path, insisting she continue walking. "I saw you and Marcus, and I, oh bloody hell, I couldn't ... I ... Harris and Giles and I had been at the bar and ... I ..." Once began, he could not stop the torrent of words. Good one Spike, she's going to think you're bleedin' barmy. "Look," he tried again, running his hands through his hair, still mussed from sleeping. "You don't owe me any explanations about the chap." And I don't think I want to hear them. "I don't want to upset you, but ... I ..." "Please don't say it again." Her words were kindly spoken, but distant. "Let me finish," he snapped. Buffy stepped back from him, startled by the emotion flooding his words. His tone softened. "Please, luv. I saw that half-breed touch you and I didn't like it. I couldn't stand the thought of it being him, and not me..." His spoke faster, preventing her from interrupting. "I am trying to tell you..." Somewhat embarrassed by his outburst, he risked a glance in her direction. Her expression was conflicted. "Spike... I ..." "Hush," he quieted her, shaking his head slowly. "I don't deserve the lot of you. After you... left us... Dawn was the only thing that kept me going. I wasn't going to fail you again." "Dawn told me what happened on that platform," she snapped at him. "How can you honestly believe you failed? No one has ever risked themselves for us like you have." Her tone brooked no opposition, but Spike's face was still stricken. Buffy attempted a lighter tone. "I smelled you from the door. You're Mr. Hungover Mopey Guy. I don't need you all maudlin on me now. Cool it on the failing-me thing." "But I have." He looked down at her, his eyes glistening, but his words chilling. "After I saw ... you and Marcus, I went back to the bar. I met someone. A woman, and we, uh, we hit it off." Buffy cringed. So what if he meets someone. "I really don't need Mr. Confession Guy either. You don't owe me any explanation about your private time." Spike slapped a hand to his forehead, covering his eyes, and then ripped his hand back through his hair again. "You don't understand." He growled with exasperation. "It was one of them, Marcus' cousin. It was the female. God, I was so bladdered." At her quizzical look, he rolled his eyes. "You know, drunk? Not so bad that I couldn't figure out who she was. I figured I could throw a bit o' Spike charm at her and find out what she and her brother wanted in town, or maybe what they know." At Buffy's look of confusion, he dropped his hands, frustrated that he couldn't make himself clear. "Look, she was so hot, with this dress..." He hesitated as Buffy's eyes narrowed dangerously. "We danced and things got a bit, um, cozy. She figured out I've met... Marcus. She found the ward." Buffy gasped. She turned without a word and angrily walked off. Aggravated, Spike caught up to her easily. He grabbed her wrist and spun her around, forcing her to look at him. He spoke quickly. "We fought. She's stronger than any vampire I've known." He hesitated, unsure of how to continue. "I tried to kill her." "You say that like it's a bad thing," Buffy replied, skeptical. "Before we fought, even after I knew what she was, I ... I wanted to bite her. I tried to justify it because she was not human, but..." He couldn't continue, unaware that every conflicting emotion showed clearly in his chiseled features. Buffy opened her mouth, and closed it, at a loss unsure if her understanding would comfort him or make him feel worse. "Remember the cuts I showed you?" she asked him, swallowing nervously. He nodded. "Marcus and I sparred so... I could learn how to fight his cousins." Spike bristled slightly at the idea that Marcus had been the one to injure her. Ignoring his reaction, she met his eyes. "It's no wonder that you wanted to kill her. I wish you had." Spike tilted his head, baffled that she wasn't angry with him. "I know you were trying to help," she continued, "but going up against one of them by yourself was stupid." Spike allowed himself a half-sigh of relief that she wasn't angrier, but he wasn't going to move until he'd told her the rest. "She took something from me." Flashing quickly on Giles' injuries, Buffy started to reassure him that he was not the only one who had been careless with the wards. When he didn't respond, Buffy realized he was still in an acute state of agitation. She fell silent. "I didn't notice until I went for my lighter, second damn one I've lost this year too..." Spike muttered to himself, trying to delay the inevitable. He sighed heavily. "I think she got my picture." Buffy frowned, remembering the shrine she had found in his crypt. "Please tell me you're still not carrying around a picture of me?" He shook his head vehemently. "No, well, technically yes, it is a picture of you, but not just of you ..." He was rambling again. "It's of you and Dawn." Haltingly, he explained about the gift from Dawn, and when he'd realized it was gone, and his conclusions. Buffy was transfixed, watching the gamut of expressions cross Spike's face. Her heart broke for him. Milk and cookies won't fix this, she thought. She gently touched the slashes that were rapidly fading, leaving his skin once again pale and flawless. "Spike, there's time enough later to... figure everything out. First, patrol, then ritual, then we'll get your picture back." |
~ continue to next chapter ~ | |