fixingthings

Title: "Fixing Things" (Third in the 'And Life Goes On' Series)
Author: Spikelicious
Disclaimers: I own naught but my fertile imagination.
Feedback: Uh, yeah! :)
______________________________


"Bloody carburator," the white-blonde vampire muttered darkly, tossing the rag clutched in his right hand onto the ground. As Spike pulled back away from the engine, the back of his head connected with the sharp metal corner of the DeSoto's hood and he yelped in pain and frustration.

Watching from her seat on the front stoop, Dawn's eyes widened as she sucked in her cheeks to keep from laughing at the vampire. The resulting expression was reminiscent of a startled fish, but did nothing to lighten Spike's foul mood.

Scowling, he rubbed the knot already forming on the back of his head and regarded Dawn with a frown.

"You know, 'Bit, I wouldn't be in such a hurry if you hadn't insisted we take the car to the mall."

She shrugged in a distinctly feminine way, scrunching her shoulders together dismissively.

"Huhn. Well, I am SO not taking the bus. It takes forever to get anywhere and the people are all like, gross and smelly."

She scrunched her nose up in disgust at the thought. Personal space was a big issue with her lately, and 'gross and smelly' people jostling to get a seat around her held no appeal whatsoever. Then, at the reminder of 'gross and smelly', she turned back to Spike.

"Uh, you did clean the car out, right? No nasty old blood bags lying around in there or anything?"

Spike rolled his eyes. He maintained his car very well and the chit knew it; she'd teased him about if often enough, about all the time he spent in the evening just after sunset washing and waxing the car, filling in dings and dents occasionally, and cleaning the leather interior. It gave him something to do when he wasn't patrolling and it kept his hands busy, if not his mind.

"Nibblet, you know very well I never leave baggies around," he reminded her pointedly. "But I did make sure to give the interior the whole spit and shine last night," he added, glancing with pride at the gleaming leather.

Off Dawn's look, he grinned. "Not real spit."

He ducked back under the hood and started tinkering again, and after a moment Dawn stood and went back inside. Watching a vampire fix the engine of his classic automobile sounded much more interesting in theory than it was in reality.

As Spike was finishing up, Willow strolled up the driveway at a leisurely pace, as if she'd just happened upon 1630 Revello Drive and had decided to stop. In truth, she was rewriting a spell in her head, tweaking it and changing a few incantations so that it was more potent. Something she did a lot lately, performing mental acrobatics in order to keep her mind from straying to more...painful subjects.

She stopped next to the car and peered at the vampire under the hood.

"Hey, Spike. I have those books you wanted. What's up with the Black Beast?" She patted the car affectionately, having relied on it many times in months past to get around when walking was out of the question.

Spike growled in response. Dropping the backpack on the ground, Willow leaned in to examine the motor. "Ooh, greasy mechanical stuff! Neat!"

Spike glanced at her sideways. "Got any spells for a tricky carburator?"

Willow shook her head apologetically. "Sorry, I gotta understand the mechanics of something before I can work magic to fix it." Willow grinned goofily. "Hehehe, get it? Mechanics?"

Spike groaned and Willow muttered, "tough crowd".

"You mean with all the stuff you take apart you've never tinkered with an engine?"

Willow shrugged. "Kinda funny, huh? That I've had more access to a fully functioning SlayerBot than my mom's Tercel."

Wiping his hands on the rag he'd retrieved from the ground by his feet, he slammed the hood back into place and grabbed the backpack, motioning for Willow to precede him into the house. At the door, he placed a hand on the witch's shoulder to halt her. Quietly, he asked, "You won't mention these books to anyone 'cept Tara, right, pet?"

Willow smiled fondly over her shoulder at the vampire who knew and respected her enough to include her lover in anything he asked of her. Although she didn't always necessarily share everything with Tara, the implication that Spike understood the need was enough.

"Of course not. Mum's the word," she reassured him, miming a zipping motion across her lips as she pushed open the front door.

"Dawnie, hey!"

After a moment, Dawn appeared at the top of the steps and smiled at Willow. "Ooh, Willow! Great, you can come french braid my hair for me!"

As the teen motioned for the red-haired witch to come upstairs, Willow flashed a mischievous grin in Spike's direction.

"You wanna come with? You really should know how to help Dawn with her hair for when I'm not around."

"You're here every bloody day, Will, I'll take my chances." He waved her away and she happily bounded up the stairs to assist the girl she'd come to regard as a younger sister.

Spike waited until he could hear their voices coming from Dawn's room then sat on the couch and began pulling out the books he'd requested from Willow. Surreptiously pulling out the gold wire-rimmed glasses he kept in the sidetable drawer, he perched them familiarly on his nose and examined the books. On the top was one of those 'touchy feely' books people were so fond of today, "Chicken Soup for the Teen's Soul". He promptly shoved that one back into the backpack, hoping Willow had kept the receipt.

The next title "Understanding Today's Youth Culture" held promise, so he placed it next to him on the couch, and "Reviving Ophelia" as well. The fourth title--"Daily Reflections for Highly Motivated Teens"-- seemed a bit questionable, but he put it with the others and began flipping through "Parent In Control", dog-earing pages for future reference.

When he heard Willow and Dawn coming back downstairs, he whipped the glasses off and replaced them in their drawer, then shoved the books he was keeping under the couch. Zipping up the backpack, he stood and met the girls at the bottom of the stairs, handing Willow the backpack. She threw him a questioning gaze as she felt the weight of the book he'd rejected but he only shook his head and turned his attention to Dawn. Hair newly-braided, she was obviously prepared to go out.

She eyed him hopefully. "Car ready to go to the mall?"

"Yeah, as ready as it'll ever be. Will, you need a ride somewhere?"

Willow shook her head. "Nah. I'm good."

Spike shrugged and led them outside, locking the doors behind him. Although he would rather escort her home, he knew better than to argue with the powerful witch, who could hold her own against any number of baddies that might have the stones or stupidity to attack her.

Spike smoothly slid into the driver's side as Dawn struggled on her side with the heavy door before plopping her slight frame onto her own side of the bench seat. The engine turned over smoothly and Spike grinned triumphantly at the girl next to him.

"See? I told you I'd have it all fixed."

They both waved to Willow as Spike backed the DeSoto out of the driveway, and Dawn asked innocently, "What, did I say anything?"

* * * * *

"Don't say anything."

"Spike-"

"Not. A. Soddin'. Word."

The furious vampire stood next to her at the shoulder of the deserted highway, watching grimly as the tow truck driver hooked the DeSoto up to the winch on the flatbed.

Dawn regarded him thoughtfully for a moment as she fiddled with the cell phone that Spike had finally gotten for her a few weeks earlier, then shoved it back into her small purse. As if coming to a conclusion, she stated firmly, "You owe me a trip to the mall."

"Get in the truck."

As she sullenly complied, a thought struck her and she turned to Spike, who was motioning her to hurry up.

"You're not going to vamp out and scare the guy so you don't have to pay, are you?"

"Shut. Up. Dawn."

At his use of her actual name, Dawn quickly bit back her automatic retort and climbed into the cab of the truck, followed by Spike.

'Great,' she thought gloomily as she surveyed her current mode of transportation. 'Gross and smelly'. As the overweight tow truck driver--who apparently had issues with using deodorant--opened the door and hauled himself onto the seat, she was forced over into Spike's side. Huddling against her irate vampire guardian, she sighed. It was going to be a long night.