Buffy leafed through the book exasperatedly. Gave a pitiful moan. "Where
*is* it," she groaned to herself. She had locked herself in the training
room with a heavy bag, and everyone assumed she was training. That was fine
with her. But it had been two days, and even with her blood in him, and his
accelerated healing, Spike's hip was still in horrible shape. She was
confident just a little more of her blood would make a difference, heal him
more quickly. She was presently researching, looking for a cloaking spell.
She hoped, after she did it, and mixed her blood with the normal stuff, he
wouldn't know... because, of the... cloak-ee-ness of the spell. Her eyes
lit up and she did a mental Scooby happy dance. "Cloaking Spell". Found it.
==============================================
"Come on, Spike. You HAVE to like the Princess Bride." Dawn said, with a fake Spanish accent. "Hello. My name... is Inigo Montoya... You killed my father... Prepare to die."
The vampire made a face, more to hide the fact that he was holding back a laugh than anything else. "Uh-uh. Not my thing. Pick another movie."
"No..." She gave him her huge eyes, pouty lipped look. "Please? There's healthy violence in it."
He turned away, stuffed his head under a pillow, lying on his stomach. "No, not the Look. Anything but the Look. Is that something everyone in your bleedin' family knows how to do?" He spoke into the pillow. He was not watching that movie. "It's a girl movie, anyway."
She smiled triumphantly. "We all DO know how to do it. No it's not! There's pirates, and thieves, and killing, and adventure on the high seas!" She pointed to the movie back. "See? It says right there."
He sighed, still turned toward the pillows. "I don't want to. And I'm the one who's hurt, so I say what goes. Now pick another movie." This was followed by a very quiet, "And maybe we'll watch it later."
She gave a butt-wiggle of happy anticipation. "You're the best!" she sang. She picked up one of the movies out of the bag. "Um... Die Hard?"
He glanced up momentarily, then dropped his head back down. "I've got all those movies memorized. What else you got, Bit?"
"Ugh... Ghost and the Darkness?"
No sound, just a head shake.
"Oooh.. Interview with a Vampire."
He growled. "That stupid thing isn't even remotely realistic."
She grinned dreamily. "It's got Brad Pitt. It doesn't need to be."
He sighed. "Oh, alright. At least it's close enough. But the main character reminds me of Peaches."
She gave a disgusted lip curl. "Ugh, damn if I'm watching THAT movie ever again. Speed? GI Jane? Sabrina? Lethal Weapon?"
He sat up. "Do you have Lethal Weapon 3?"
She rummaged through her huge bag of movies. Held it up triumphantly. "Yes!"
He grinned. "Ok. I haven't seen that one. And I like Mel Gibson's character in those."
She rolled her eyes. "I'd never think it of you." She hopped off the couch and shoved it in the VCR. She plopped back on the couch.
By the time the movie was over, they were both tired. But Spike had an idea for something to do. "Lil' Bit?"
She shoved another hand of popcorn into her mouth sleepily. "Hm?"
He grinned. "How'd you like to interview a *real* vampire?"
Her eyes were suddenly more perky. "You mean, like... a Q and A session??"
"Yeah. I'm in a playful mood."
She giggled. "Way with the cool. Anything off-limits?"
"Anything that I wouldn't have said around your mum." He grinned, leaned toward her conspiratorially. "Of course, that's just what we'll tell your sis."
"How cool."
He reclined back against the couch pillows. "Well? I'm waitin', Niblet."
She cleared her throat. "Well, lets get the most important question out of the way first. Did you ever want to bite me?"
He chuckled. "Not really. I've always liked you. You stood up to me that first night at the Parent/Teacher thing. That took guts, and I appreciate that. Also, I was a little busy trying to keep your big sis from making me vaccumable."
She nodded. "Yeah. Mom woulda kicked your a- butt."
He laughed. "We're adults here, Lil' Bit. Say what you mean. And for your information, she did kick my ass. With a fire axe."
She giggled. "I know. It was like- the coolest thing."
He put a hand on his forehead. "Not for me."
She rolled her eyes. "You're fine now... well, I mean.... whatever. Um... How many slayers have you killed?"
"Two. One during the Boxer Rebellion in 1900 china, and another in New York back in the seventies."
"I see." Dawn tipped her head to the side professionally. "And did she dress well?"
"Which one?"
"Seventies."
He grinned. "Hang on a sec." Walked over to his closet and pulled out a leather jacket. "This was her's. Does that answer your question?" He gently slipped the jacket on the teenager's shoulders.
She took a deep breath, tried to conceal her glee. She was wearing THE jacket. Oh... my... God. She stood, turned in it. "Totally cool. I feel so bad-ass."
Spike chuckled. "You look it, tiger." He gave a shudder. "In fact, I think you'd better take it off. You're scaring me." He hid his face with a large pillow.
She reluctantly took it off, and hung it back in the closet, giving it one last look of awe. "All better. Back to zero-ferociousness Dawn."
He peeked out from behind the pillow, then set it in his lap. "So, what's your next question, Miss Reporter person?"
She tossed her shining hair behind her, sat up straight. "Pre-chip, pre- soul. Think back. What did it feel like to bite someone, and feel their blood becoming yours?"
He cocked his head. "Are we talking physical, or emotional here, Bit?"
She cocked her head. "I imagine it wasn't ever one or the other, so both."
He closed his eyes. "Different, every time. Powerful. A feeling of total power and control, of strength and danger and pain and terror. There's warmth, but there's also pain, as the last of the life drains from a person. You feel it. Their last thoughts, see pictures, images, flashes of feeling. That can be scary. Brings you too close to humanity. And you have to stay above them. See them as the prey, and you're the predator. Otherwise, it becomes near impossible, once you let them in. See them as people, and not food. It's harder. I don't think I could do it again. Not now."
That wasn't what she expected to hear. But respect reverberated through her being. He was more than a vampire now. He was a human with a demon visage. "Would... would my blood make you better faster? Since it's the blood of all the Slayers?"
Spike shook his head. "I already went through this with your sis. She slipped me some of her blood a couple of days ago. And no. I'd rather heal on my own, thank you very much."
She went into a tiny snit. "Well, excuse me for caring, Mr. Butthead." Her head tossed with every other word.
Spike chuckled and laid back. "Doesn't that make you Bevis?"
She glared. "*I'm* asking the questions, here."
"So ask already."
"Do you hate Druscilla, and if yes, yay. If no, why not?"
This was hard. "Uh. I don't think I hate her right now. This is a good day." He thought, shook his head. "I don't hate her because she didn't have a choice. You can't punish a tornado for being what it is. If I hate anyone, it'd be her Poofter of a sire, for making her the way she is. She deserved better." He shook his head again. "So much better that what happened to her. So I guess that's a no."
Dawn sighed. Patted his head. "You will one day. You can join my club. I'll have a card waiting for you."
He chuckled and grabbed her quickly, giving her ribs a quick tickle before releasing her. "Don't pet me. I'm not a dog."
She squirmed and was curled in a ball in the corner of the couch. "Ah! Ok." She peeked at him. Her eyes grew round. "Ooooh. Are vampires perverts?"
"Some of them."
"Angel's a perv, isn't he?"
Spike chuckled. "Angelus is. Angel, I don't know. I don't really know him that well since he's been all soul-having."
She snorted. "He's a major loser." She stamped an "L" on her forehead with her thumb and forefinger.
He looked at her curiously. "What makes you say that? Last time I checked, it was your sis who knew him the best."
"I just... he gives me an uber-creepy feeling. And I know it didn't- didn't really happen, cuz.... ya know, I'm only like... really one year old."
"Uh-huh. And I'm really 24."
She rolled her eyes at him. "But I have a scar from Angelus, and Buffy had to save me. And when he was nice soul boy, he just... didn't even apologize. Ever."
"I remember. He took you with Rupert. That was when he had Acathla. Buffy wasn't the only one looking out for you, you know."
She covered her frown with a grin. "Yeah. I know. You took me for ice cream a long time after that." She considered. "Well, not really, but it was a really nice memory."
He reached over, pulled her to him and hugged her gently. "I think it was real. Because you're real, and I'm real, so who's to tell us that wasn't real? Reality is what we make, after all, right?"
She snuggled under his chin. "Yeah."
"Got another question?"
"Merow?", Harmon said, entering the crypt from one of the tunnels.
Dawn awwed. "Who is that?"
"Go read his tag. He's my cat."
She picked up the cat, read his tag. "You named him Harmony?"
He snorted indignantly. "Not Harmony. Harmon. There is a difference."
"No, Spike..." She shoved the cat at him. "Look. It has a Y."
The cat purred happily and leaped into Spike's lap, arching and yowing excitedly. "That's because I made the tag before I found out that he was a boy cat. And when he was still being annoying."
She laughed. "But now you love the agitating behaviors?"
Harmon reared up and licked Spike on the nose. "Ug.. Some of them. He grew on me."
She pulled the kitty out of Spike's arms. "Hi, Kitty, Kitty. I'm Dawnie. You are so cute. Yes you are."
"Purrrrow," Harmon said, rubbing under her chin and giving her a lick for good measure.
She snuggled the cat in her lap, and gave Spike a look. "What's your favorite kind of sandwich?"
He looked at her. "That's your question?"
She shrugged. "Sure. I have more."
He grinned. "Okay. Are we talking homemade sandwich, or something you buy out?"
"Homemade."
He thought. "Peanut butter and jelly. With the crunchy kind of peanut butter. The ultimate comfort food." He quickly amended. "Next to chocolate."
She nodded agreement. "Totally second place. Well, third for me. Chocolate, Lucky Charms, and then pb&j."
He grinned. "Mine goes "hot wings, chocolate ice cream, PB&J."
She grinned charmingly, then dropped a bomb. "How do you feel about Anya?"
His eyes got wide, then he blinked. "She's okay. When she tries to be, and isn't being a money-obsessive/compulsive."
She sighed. "That's not what I meant. You said we were gonna be adults tonight. Treat me like it. I saw you-" She blushed. "Well, I know you and Anya- but-"
He almost growled. "That wasn't a good night, Bit. For either of us. And we were drunk. Feelings never entered into it, except that we both needed to feel *something*, anything, that would let us know that someone cared. We were both alone that night, no matter what we were doing. That's the truth."
She nodded. "Fair enough. I don't know why I asked. I didn't want to know anyway."
He relaxed. "So ask something that you do want to know."
Her heart was in her eyes as she asked softly, "Buffy isn't hurting you, is she?"
He just looked at her. "Hurting me? No." He took a hand and gently swiped a lock of Dawn's hair behind her ear. "What would make you think something like that?"
She bit her lip, and shrugged. "And you're not- not hurting her either, are you?" Fragile hope was in her voice, eyes bigger than ever.
A tear attempted to escape Spike's eye, but was repelled. "Never. I'll never hurt her, Bit. I promise you."
Her eyes peeked up at his. She nodded softly.
He hugged her again. "Now. What else can I tell you?"
"Buffy said you were being a-" she thought for a moment. "stupid, arrogant male, getting your ass kicked, and thinking nothing of it. But she never told me what happened. What kind of baddie you fought."
He chuckled. "Yeah, that sounds like the Slayer, alright. It was a Tralfgar demon. Big nasty bugger. I killed it, though."
She nodded. "Way with the good."
"Now, do you want to do something else? Or do you have more questions?"
She shrugged. "You can ask me some if you want to."
He thought. "I really only have one. But it's confusing, and I don't know if I should ask you."
She leaned her head against his shoulder, relaxing. "No big. Ask away."
He swallowed. "How do... Uh, when I..." He snorted at himself. "Bloody hell. Even now I can never find the right word when I need it."
She shrugged. "Then just say what you mean."
He smiled at her. "It's not that easy. I told you it was confusing."
She linked her fingers with his, very comfortable. "Well, ask me it one part at a time."
He sighed. "Ok. If you had to say what you think that the others feel about me, what would it be? One person at a time, starting with you."
She took a deep breath, looked at their linked hands. "I love you. You're like... this big, protective brother with a grrrr face."
He chuckled, grinned. Squeezed her hand gently. "Thanks."
"And I can.. tell you stuff, and... you like me... and you're fun... and stuff."
"Stuff? What stuff?" Playful undertone that time.
She nudged him with her shoulder. "Ya know. Stuff."
He nodded as if he knew. "Ah. Stuff. What about the others?"
"Giles... is.. confused by you. I think though, he likes you. Cuz, ya know, you give him crap and... tease him. And you're smart."
"I am?"
"Of course you are. Cuz like... You helped with the 'demon Tara', thing, and you... see the obvious, when we're all.. confused by the.... details."
He grinned. "Comes from having 'lived' a long time. You learn stuff. What about Willow, Xander,..." He paused. "And Buffy."
"Willow... fears you a little bit. She's finally met someone more powerful than her. But you helped her, too. And she feels grateful, and ashamed. And she wishes she could be a friend to everyone again."
"I think she is a friend. She just needs to take it slow. It's a difficult road that she's on. But if I know one thing it's that the Scoobies can pull one of their own through anything."
She nodded. "Yes we can. Xander.... um... He kinda is not happy about this. He doesn't hate you, but... how did you feel when Angel screwed Dru?"
His only answer was a low dangerous growl that rumbled from deep in his chest.
Dawn nodded. "Like that. And small. It made you feel small, didn't it?"
He nodded. "Like Stuart Little."
"That's how Xander feels. Times three. You've had Buffy, his best friend, first 'true' love, and Anya, his... whatever. And he feels like he might be losing Willow to you, too."
Spike made a confused face. "If I didn't think that he could kick my ass right now, I'd go talk to him."
She shook her head. "Not gonna add that note to the suggestion box."
"I'm just trying to be a friend. One of the group. A Scooby." He chuckled. "I haven't had too much experience in that sort of thing."
She nodded. "Xander is a Scooby, too. He's always been kinda the only guy Scooby. You're horning in."
"Ah. But Rupert's a Scooby. He's Fred, and Harris is Shaggy. I'm just the talking dog." He did his best Scooby-Doo laugh, which was actually pretty good.
She lifted her head from his shoulder, gave him a well-deserved grin for his Scooby laugh, and said, "But he's always been the only young one. Figuratively speaking."
He chuckled. "Figuratively. What about your sis?"
"I think," Dawn said carefully, "she's gonna realize she's in love with you sooner or later."
"I think she already has."
Dawn sighed. "Which will give her a good month or two of backpedaling."
He sighed. "I hope not. It'll get pretty lonely being Scooby without Daphne around to pet me." He made a face. "That came out so wrong."
Dawn cringed. "Oh, man, did it ever." She said thoughtfully, "I think you should force your hand. Chain her up and make her say it or something."
He snorted. "That's how I told her in the first place. And it didn't really go well."
"No way."
"I don't know. If we keep going in the direction that we seem to be going in, then she'll slip sooner or later." He chuckled. "I just hope it's before she actually manages to tickle me to death."
Dawn smiled. "I think you'll get a reprieve. I mean, you're all taped up."
He glanced down at his bare feet, stretched out along the couch. "Not everywhere. I'm expecting a sneak attack. She said that she was going to catch me off guard."
Dawn laughed. "I bet she forgot already."
"You'd better be right. One of these times, I'm actually going to pass out on her. Let her see how funny that is."
Dawn rolled her eyes. "Drama queen."
He cleared his throat. "To be, or not to be that is the-"
"Ohh! We can watch the Princess Bride now!"
He chuckled. "Ok. I said later, and it is officially later. Go and get it."
She stood and did the Snoopy happy dance. "Yay." She pulled it out of the 'Bag O' Movies, and pushed it in. "Can I paint your nails?"
He shook his head no, a lot. "Uh-uh. This isn't a sleep over, Niblet."
She looked at him with her sad eyes. "Please, Spike?"
A long-suffering sigh. "Oh, fine. But if you mess up, I get to tickle you for fifteen minutes."
She squealed, pounced him with a hug. Then backed off. "Ooooh. Sorry!"
He grinned. "S'ok, Bit. I barely felt it." She turned around to get the nail polish, and then he winced.
==============================================
A short time later....
Buffy came to the crypt door. Slayage was hard tonight, with a high body count. She had also done the cloaking spell on the blood, or, rather, the knife, and it was exhausting. Magic was not her thing. She carried a two huge bags: an overnighter with everything she planned to keep at Spike's, and her Slay bag, full of weapons. She tipped her head, hearing rustling. She knocked. And got no answer. "Do you ever?" she asked herself and walked in. From below, she heard Dawn cry plaintively, "Spike! Stop squirming! The glitter coat over the black will look totally hot."
She heard Spike let out a cross between a growl and a laugh. "And I say again no. And stop that! It tickles!" Another laugh.
She heard her sister sigh in exasperation. "Your toes will look like total crap if you do not hold still. I'm telling you. They'll look like claws at night. Very cool."
Spike laughed again. "I can't help it, and no one's going to see them anyway!"
Buffy peeked her head through the opening. "Hey everybody. Slumber party time? And I didn't get an invitation?" She pouted. "My feelings are hurt."
Dawn's eyes lit up. "Hey Buffy!"
Spike groaned. "Of all the embarrassing timing... Hey, luv."
She climbed down, lugging the bags. "Hey, gimpy."
He started to growl, but it turned into a snort of laughter and he yanked his foot away from the Key at the opposite end of the couch. "I said stop bloody tickling me!"
Dawn looked to her sister. "I'm trying to paint his toes and he just keeps squirming! Tell him to stop!"
"Tell her I can't help it!"
Buffy gave Spike a stern look. "Take it like a man, soldier."
Dawn nodded. "Yeah. Suck it up."
He gave Buffy a pleading look. "But it's torture! She's gonna kill me!"
Buffy tossed a hand dramatically across her forehead. "Thank God you're already dead."
"Very funn- AHH! Dawn!"
She grabbed her overnight back and began lugging it to the tunnel. "Torture away, Dawn. Spike, I'm gonna drop stuff in your bathroom, ok?"
Spike was too busy grinding his teeth together to reply.
Buffy stopped. "Ya know what? I'm gonna shower, too. I'll be back in a while."
Dawn looked up from where she was struggling to hold Spike's foot to nod at her sister. "Ok. He'll be pretty when you're done."
"Wait!," Spike called pitifully. "Don't leave me here!"
Buffy chuckled. "That was sad. Ya know, if you sit still, it'll be over quicker." She left the two to bicker and laugh, and started to unpack in his bathroom.
"I can't stay stILL!!", Spike called after her, the final syllable raising to operatic standards.
Buffy pulled out four towels, a loofa, shampoo, conditioner, soap, and a brush and hair dryer. She shoved a small bag of cosmetics, toothbrush, and perfume into the back of one drawer, and rearranged her things to her liking. She could still hear Spike and Dawn. Now both of them were laughing, and Spike was begging for mercy. Buffy gave a chuckle as she stepped into the shower, and let the water wash over her.
Half an hour later, Buffy emerged from the bathroom, clean, teeth-brushy, and feeling pretty, even though she felt odd knowing she was hoping no one would REALLY notice the absurdity of her wearing a smudge of lip gloss. Her bright pink clingy tank top and black jamma pants were comfortable, and she wore an old pair of slippers. She carried the half empty duffel back out. "Hey guys." Dawn smiled at her from her spot on the floor.
Spike was still laying across the couch, an exhausted expression on his face. He raised a hand and half waved.
Dawn said excitedly, hopping up to grab said hand, "Look at his nails. Tell me how cool they look." She turned his hand this way and that. "I put a glitter coat overtop the black."
Buffy bit back a snorting laugh. "Killer, Dawn. It looks really cool."
Spike didn't even move. He was beyond tired. The kind of tired that squirming nonstop combined with semi-hysterical laughter will get you. Not to mention that he wasn't back to his full strength yet.
"Spike...?" Buffy put a hand on his shoulder. "What drawer..?"
"Any one." His voice was as tired as the rest of him, but there was a light in his eyes. Despite being tired, playing with Dawn had put him into a good mood. In his mind, that was the only good thing about surviving the torture that she'd inflicted.
She smiled and went to his bureau. She opened the bottom drawer and emptied it out, and dispersed it between the other five.
Dawn sat at Spike's feet on the couch, chattering about Wesley from History. Buffy filled the drawer, putting her... unmentionables in the bottom, under all her other clothes.
Spike yawned loudly, forgetting for the moment that he got fangy.
Dawn didn't even seem disturbed, except to say, "Ha. That's so cool. I wish I could do that."
Spike shook it off quickly. "No you don't."
Buffy said at the same time, "No you don't."
"You don't need fangs to be intimidating, Bit."
Dawn grinned engagingly at them. "I know. I've got a mean roundhouse, huh, Buffy?"
Buffy nodded. "Absolutely. But your mind can be intimidating, too, Dawn. Sharpen it, along with your body."
"Wax on, wax off," Spike intoned, playfully.
Dawn swatted him playfully. "Dork."
Buffy nodded. "Ditto."
"Twin pains." The 'twin looks' he got should have shut him up.
He said nothing, but did stick his tongue out at them.
Buffy shut the drawer. "Dawn, did you have dinner?"
"Yeah," Dawn grinned. "Wings and an onion."
Buffy jerked her thumb towards the fridge. "Try an apple, too, Wonder Woman." Dawn trudged over, pouting.
"Summers women," he muttered under his breath.
"We heard that," they said in unison.
He play growled. "Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it?" He climbed to his feet and growled again.
Buffy simply stared him down. "Lay down."
Spike noted her look and pouted. He wanted to play, but he lay down anyway.
"I am not using one more piece of gauze or medical tape on you tonight. So if I beat you up, you bleed to... dusty death."
Spike gasped indignantly. "You wouldn't."
She arched a brow. "Try me tonight."
He sighed and laid back again, stretched along the couch.
She looked at him, said softly, "I'm gonna take my bag o' weapons upstairs. Want me to get you a quick mug of blood? You look kinda drained."
He grinned. "Yeah. That'd be great, luv. And Dawn can keep me company while you're gone."
She smiled. "Ok." Dawn just grumped from where she leaned against the counter, crunching an apple.
Upstairs, Buffy knew she had only a limited amount of time. She dropped the bag and took her knife out quickly. She slid down her jamma pants to see where she had cut only days before. It was almost healed. She took a mug, and returned to the bag for a piece of paper. Holding the knife, she cut herself as she read off the paper. "Brightness beyond sunrise/ Crimson beyond blood that flows/ Buried deep within his mind/ Is the only way he'll know/ I say with caring/ Guard him from my lie/ Accept the bond, and ne'er ask why/ This I command, by my unworthy hand/ Cloak my blood, bless my lie." She let the blood flow until it slowed to a trickle. She taped it up quickly, this time prepared with a small amount of medical supplies. She put everything back in it's place. She dumped more blood into the mug, and yanked her pants back up, scurried down the ladder. She put it in the microwave, smiled at Dawn and Spike on the couch.
Two golden eyes watched from the corner. Harmon sat on his upstairs bed, watching everything the Slayer did. Understanding, in his own way, what she was trying to do, but wondering if she knew what was in store...
Downstairs, Buffy pulled the mug out of the microwave when it beeped, sprinkling marshmallows in it. She carried it to the couch, and waited till Spike and Dawn made room for her.
Spike licked his lips, trying not to seem too hungry, but his eyes flashed yellow, and he remembered that he hadn't eaten since that morning.
Dawn scooted to the other end of the couch, giving Buffy the middle. Her and Spike. Best of both worlds, she figured.
"Merowww!!", Harmon called from the stairs. But it was no use. They didn't understand him anyway. He walked over and hopped up on the coffee table. "Rooowr!", he tried again. Spike glanced at him, but the vampire's instinctive animal understanding was poorly developed, and he accepted the mug from Buffy despite the feline's warning.
Buffy picked up Harm, and settled him on her lap as she sat between Spike and her sister. "Hey, Harm. How are ya today?"
Harmon decided that maybe visuals would work. He meowed at Buffy, then batted at the mug, then rowred at Spike. Once again, the vampire looked at him, and Harm had hope, but then Spike drank the mug, and the cat had the very human thought of "Shit."
Dawn gave the cat a weird look. "Did you turn that cat?"
Spike almost choked. "What?"
She shrugged. "It's all, rrrraaaaar-ee for the blood."
Spike looked at Harmon again. "What is wrong with you today, boy?" The cat had a desire to just hit him. But, being a nice kitty, he didn't. "merrow," he muttered quietly. The blood was gone, anyway, the spell was in effect, and there was nothing more he could do. He only could hope that the Slayer knew what she was doing.
==============================================
"Come on, Spike. You HAVE to like the Princess Bride." Dawn said, with a fake Spanish accent. "Hello. My name... is Inigo Montoya... You killed my father... Prepare to die."
The vampire made a face, more to hide the fact that he was holding back a laugh than anything else. "Uh-uh. Not my thing. Pick another movie."
"No..." She gave him her huge eyes, pouty lipped look. "Please? There's healthy violence in it."
He turned away, stuffed his head under a pillow, lying on his stomach. "No, not the Look. Anything but the Look. Is that something everyone in your bleedin' family knows how to do?" He spoke into the pillow. He was not watching that movie. "It's a girl movie, anyway."
She smiled triumphantly. "We all DO know how to do it. No it's not! There's pirates, and thieves, and killing, and adventure on the high seas!" She pointed to the movie back. "See? It says right there."
He sighed, still turned toward the pillows. "I don't want to. And I'm the one who's hurt, so I say what goes. Now pick another movie." This was followed by a very quiet, "And maybe we'll watch it later."
She gave a butt-wiggle of happy anticipation. "You're the best!" she sang. She picked up one of the movies out of the bag. "Um... Die Hard?"
He glanced up momentarily, then dropped his head back down. "I've got all those movies memorized. What else you got, Bit?"
"Ugh... Ghost and the Darkness?"
No sound, just a head shake.
"Oooh.. Interview with a Vampire."
He growled. "That stupid thing isn't even remotely realistic."
She grinned dreamily. "It's got Brad Pitt. It doesn't need to be."
He sighed. "Oh, alright. At least it's close enough. But the main character reminds me of Peaches."
She gave a disgusted lip curl. "Ugh, damn if I'm watching THAT movie ever again. Speed? GI Jane? Sabrina? Lethal Weapon?"
He sat up. "Do you have Lethal Weapon 3?"
She rummaged through her huge bag of movies. Held it up triumphantly. "Yes!"
He grinned. "Ok. I haven't seen that one. And I like Mel Gibson's character in those."
She rolled her eyes. "I'd never think it of you." She hopped off the couch and shoved it in the VCR. She plopped back on the couch.
By the time the movie was over, they were both tired. But Spike had an idea for something to do. "Lil' Bit?"
She shoved another hand of popcorn into her mouth sleepily. "Hm?"
He grinned. "How'd you like to interview a *real* vampire?"
Her eyes were suddenly more perky. "You mean, like... a Q and A session??"
"Yeah. I'm in a playful mood."
She giggled. "Way with the cool. Anything off-limits?"
"Anything that I wouldn't have said around your mum." He grinned, leaned toward her conspiratorially. "Of course, that's just what we'll tell your sis."
"How cool."
He reclined back against the couch pillows. "Well? I'm waitin', Niblet."
She cleared her throat. "Well, lets get the most important question out of the way first. Did you ever want to bite me?"
He chuckled. "Not really. I've always liked you. You stood up to me that first night at the Parent/Teacher thing. That took guts, and I appreciate that. Also, I was a little busy trying to keep your big sis from making me vaccumable."
She nodded. "Yeah. Mom woulda kicked your a- butt."
He laughed. "We're adults here, Lil' Bit. Say what you mean. And for your information, she did kick my ass. With a fire axe."
She giggled. "I know. It was like- the coolest thing."
He put a hand on his forehead. "Not for me."
She rolled her eyes. "You're fine now... well, I mean.... whatever. Um... How many slayers have you killed?"
"Two. One during the Boxer Rebellion in 1900 china, and another in New York back in the seventies."
"I see." Dawn tipped her head to the side professionally. "And did she dress well?"
"Which one?"
"Seventies."
He grinned. "Hang on a sec." Walked over to his closet and pulled out a leather jacket. "This was her's. Does that answer your question?" He gently slipped the jacket on the teenager's shoulders.
She took a deep breath, tried to conceal her glee. She was wearing THE jacket. Oh... my... God. She stood, turned in it. "Totally cool. I feel so bad-ass."
Spike chuckled. "You look it, tiger." He gave a shudder. "In fact, I think you'd better take it off. You're scaring me." He hid his face with a large pillow.
She reluctantly took it off, and hung it back in the closet, giving it one last look of awe. "All better. Back to zero-ferociousness Dawn."
He peeked out from behind the pillow, then set it in his lap. "So, what's your next question, Miss Reporter person?"
She tossed her shining hair behind her, sat up straight. "Pre-chip, pre- soul. Think back. What did it feel like to bite someone, and feel their blood becoming yours?"
He cocked his head. "Are we talking physical, or emotional here, Bit?"
She cocked her head. "I imagine it wasn't ever one or the other, so both."
He closed his eyes. "Different, every time. Powerful. A feeling of total power and control, of strength and danger and pain and terror. There's warmth, but there's also pain, as the last of the life drains from a person. You feel it. Their last thoughts, see pictures, images, flashes of feeling. That can be scary. Brings you too close to humanity. And you have to stay above them. See them as the prey, and you're the predator. Otherwise, it becomes near impossible, once you let them in. See them as people, and not food. It's harder. I don't think I could do it again. Not now."
That wasn't what she expected to hear. But respect reverberated through her being. He was more than a vampire now. He was a human with a demon visage. "Would... would my blood make you better faster? Since it's the blood of all the Slayers?"
Spike shook his head. "I already went through this with your sis. She slipped me some of her blood a couple of days ago. And no. I'd rather heal on my own, thank you very much."
She went into a tiny snit. "Well, excuse me for caring, Mr. Butthead." Her head tossed with every other word.
Spike chuckled and laid back. "Doesn't that make you Bevis?"
She glared. "*I'm* asking the questions, here."
"So ask already."
"Do you hate Druscilla, and if yes, yay. If no, why not?"
This was hard. "Uh. I don't think I hate her right now. This is a good day." He thought, shook his head. "I don't hate her because she didn't have a choice. You can't punish a tornado for being what it is. If I hate anyone, it'd be her Poofter of a sire, for making her the way she is. She deserved better." He shook his head again. "So much better that what happened to her. So I guess that's a no."
Dawn sighed. Patted his head. "You will one day. You can join my club. I'll have a card waiting for you."
He chuckled and grabbed her quickly, giving her ribs a quick tickle before releasing her. "Don't pet me. I'm not a dog."
She squirmed and was curled in a ball in the corner of the couch. "Ah! Ok." She peeked at him. Her eyes grew round. "Ooooh. Are vampires perverts?"
"Some of them."
"Angel's a perv, isn't he?"
Spike chuckled. "Angelus is. Angel, I don't know. I don't really know him that well since he's been all soul-having."
She snorted. "He's a major loser." She stamped an "L" on her forehead with her thumb and forefinger.
He looked at her curiously. "What makes you say that? Last time I checked, it was your sis who knew him the best."
"I just... he gives me an uber-creepy feeling. And I know it didn't- didn't really happen, cuz.... ya know, I'm only like... really one year old."
"Uh-huh. And I'm really 24."
She rolled her eyes at him. "But I have a scar from Angelus, and Buffy had to save me. And when he was nice soul boy, he just... didn't even apologize. Ever."
"I remember. He took you with Rupert. That was when he had Acathla. Buffy wasn't the only one looking out for you, you know."
She covered her frown with a grin. "Yeah. I know. You took me for ice cream a long time after that." She considered. "Well, not really, but it was a really nice memory."
He reached over, pulled her to him and hugged her gently. "I think it was real. Because you're real, and I'm real, so who's to tell us that wasn't real? Reality is what we make, after all, right?"
She snuggled under his chin. "Yeah."
"Got another question?"
"Merow?", Harmon said, entering the crypt from one of the tunnels.
Dawn awwed. "Who is that?"
"Go read his tag. He's my cat."
She picked up the cat, read his tag. "You named him Harmony?"
He snorted indignantly. "Not Harmony. Harmon. There is a difference."
"No, Spike..." She shoved the cat at him. "Look. It has a Y."
The cat purred happily and leaped into Spike's lap, arching and yowing excitedly. "That's because I made the tag before I found out that he was a boy cat. And when he was still being annoying."
She laughed. "But now you love the agitating behaviors?"
Harmon reared up and licked Spike on the nose. "Ug.. Some of them. He grew on me."
She pulled the kitty out of Spike's arms. "Hi, Kitty, Kitty. I'm Dawnie. You are so cute. Yes you are."
"Purrrrow," Harmon said, rubbing under her chin and giving her a lick for good measure.
She snuggled the cat in her lap, and gave Spike a look. "What's your favorite kind of sandwich?"
He looked at her. "That's your question?"
She shrugged. "Sure. I have more."
He grinned. "Okay. Are we talking homemade sandwich, or something you buy out?"
"Homemade."
He thought. "Peanut butter and jelly. With the crunchy kind of peanut butter. The ultimate comfort food." He quickly amended. "Next to chocolate."
She nodded agreement. "Totally second place. Well, third for me. Chocolate, Lucky Charms, and then pb&j."
He grinned. "Mine goes "hot wings, chocolate ice cream, PB&J."
She grinned charmingly, then dropped a bomb. "How do you feel about Anya?"
His eyes got wide, then he blinked. "She's okay. When she tries to be, and isn't being a money-obsessive/compulsive."
She sighed. "That's not what I meant. You said we were gonna be adults tonight. Treat me like it. I saw you-" She blushed. "Well, I know you and Anya- but-"
He almost growled. "That wasn't a good night, Bit. For either of us. And we were drunk. Feelings never entered into it, except that we both needed to feel *something*, anything, that would let us know that someone cared. We were both alone that night, no matter what we were doing. That's the truth."
She nodded. "Fair enough. I don't know why I asked. I didn't want to know anyway."
He relaxed. "So ask something that you do want to know."
Her heart was in her eyes as she asked softly, "Buffy isn't hurting you, is she?"
He just looked at her. "Hurting me? No." He took a hand and gently swiped a lock of Dawn's hair behind her ear. "What would make you think something like that?"
She bit her lip, and shrugged. "And you're not- not hurting her either, are you?" Fragile hope was in her voice, eyes bigger than ever.
A tear attempted to escape Spike's eye, but was repelled. "Never. I'll never hurt her, Bit. I promise you."
Her eyes peeked up at his. She nodded softly.
He hugged her again. "Now. What else can I tell you?"
"Buffy said you were being a-" she thought for a moment. "stupid, arrogant male, getting your ass kicked, and thinking nothing of it. But she never told me what happened. What kind of baddie you fought."
He chuckled. "Yeah, that sounds like the Slayer, alright. It was a Tralfgar demon. Big nasty bugger. I killed it, though."
She nodded. "Way with the good."
"Now, do you want to do something else? Or do you have more questions?"
She shrugged. "You can ask me some if you want to."
He thought. "I really only have one. But it's confusing, and I don't know if I should ask you."
She leaned her head against his shoulder, relaxing. "No big. Ask away."
He swallowed. "How do... Uh, when I..." He snorted at himself. "Bloody hell. Even now I can never find the right word when I need it."
She shrugged. "Then just say what you mean."
He smiled at her. "It's not that easy. I told you it was confusing."
She linked her fingers with his, very comfortable. "Well, ask me it one part at a time."
He sighed. "Ok. If you had to say what you think that the others feel about me, what would it be? One person at a time, starting with you."
She took a deep breath, looked at their linked hands. "I love you. You're like... this big, protective brother with a grrrr face."
He chuckled, grinned. Squeezed her hand gently. "Thanks."
"And I can.. tell you stuff, and... you like me... and you're fun... and stuff."
"Stuff? What stuff?" Playful undertone that time.
She nudged him with her shoulder. "Ya know. Stuff."
He nodded as if he knew. "Ah. Stuff. What about the others?"
"Giles... is.. confused by you. I think though, he likes you. Cuz, ya know, you give him crap and... tease him. And you're smart."
"I am?"
"Of course you are. Cuz like... You helped with the 'demon Tara', thing, and you... see the obvious, when we're all.. confused by the.... details."
He grinned. "Comes from having 'lived' a long time. You learn stuff. What about Willow, Xander,..." He paused. "And Buffy."
"Willow... fears you a little bit. She's finally met someone more powerful than her. But you helped her, too. And she feels grateful, and ashamed. And she wishes she could be a friend to everyone again."
"I think she is a friend. She just needs to take it slow. It's a difficult road that she's on. But if I know one thing it's that the Scoobies can pull one of their own through anything."
She nodded. "Yes we can. Xander.... um... He kinda is not happy about this. He doesn't hate you, but... how did you feel when Angel screwed Dru?"
His only answer was a low dangerous growl that rumbled from deep in his chest.
Dawn nodded. "Like that. And small. It made you feel small, didn't it?"
He nodded. "Like Stuart Little."
"That's how Xander feels. Times three. You've had Buffy, his best friend, first 'true' love, and Anya, his... whatever. And he feels like he might be losing Willow to you, too."
Spike made a confused face. "If I didn't think that he could kick my ass right now, I'd go talk to him."
She shook her head. "Not gonna add that note to the suggestion box."
"I'm just trying to be a friend. One of the group. A Scooby." He chuckled. "I haven't had too much experience in that sort of thing."
She nodded. "Xander is a Scooby, too. He's always been kinda the only guy Scooby. You're horning in."
"Ah. But Rupert's a Scooby. He's Fred, and Harris is Shaggy. I'm just the talking dog." He did his best Scooby-Doo laugh, which was actually pretty good.
She lifted her head from his shoulder, gave him a well-deserved grin for his Scooby laugh, and said, "But he's always been the only young one. Figuratively speaking."
He chuckled. "Figuratively. What about your sis?"
"I think," Dawn said carefully, "she's gonna realize she's in love with you sooner or later."
"I think she already has."
Dawn sighed. "Which will give her a good month or two of backpedaling."
He sighed. "I hope not. It'll get pretty lonely being Scooby without Daphne around to pet me." He made a face. "That came out so wrong."
Dawn cringed. "Oh, man, did it ever." She said thoughtfully, "I think you should force your hand. Chain her up and make her say it or something."
He snorted. "That's how I told her in the first place. And it didn't really go well."
"No way."
"I don't know. If we keep going in the direction that we seem to be going in, then she'll slip sooner or later." He chuckled. "I just hope it's before she actually manages to tickle me to death."
Dawn smiled. "I think you'll get a reprieve. I mean, you're all taped up."
He glanced down at his bare feet, stretched out along the couch. "Not everywhere. I'm expecting a sneak attack. She said that she was going to catch me off guard."
Dawn laughed. "I bet she forgot already."
"You'd better be right. One of these times, I'm actually going to pass out on her. Let her see how funny that is."
Dawn rolled her eyes. "Drama queen."
He cleared his throat. "To be, or not to be that is the-"
"Ohh! We can watch the Princess Bride now!"
He chuckled. "Ok. I said later, and it is officially later. Go and get it."
She stood and did the Snoopy happy dance. "Yay." She pulled it out of the 'Bag O' Movies, and pushed it in. "Can I paint your nails?"
He shook his head no, a lot. "Uh-uh. This isn't a sleep over, Niblet."
She looked at him with her sad eyes. "Please, Spike?"
A long-suffering sigh. "Oh, fine. But if you mess up, I get to tickle you for fifteen minutes."
She squealed, pounced him with a hug. Then backed off. "Ooooh. Sorry!"
He grinned. "S'ok, Bit. I barely felt it." She turned around to get the nail polish, and then he winced.
==============================================
A short time later....
Buffy came to the crypt door. Slayage was hard tonight, with a high body count. She had also done the cloaking spell on the blood, or, rather, the knife, and it was exhausting. Magic was not her thing. She carried a two huge bags: an overnighter with everything she planned to keep at Spike's, and her Slay bag, full of weapons. She tipped her head, hearing rustling. She knocked. And got no answer. "Do you ever?" she asked herself and walked in. From below, she heard Dawn cry plaintively, "Spike! Stop squirming! The glitter coat over the black will look totally hot."
She heard Spike let out a cross between a growl and a laugh. "And I say again no. And stop that! It tickles!" Another laugh.
She heard her sister sigh in exasperation. "Your toes will look like total crap if you do not hold still. I'm telling you. They'll look like claws at night. Very cool."
Spike laughed again. "I can't help it, and no one's going to see them anyway!"
Buffy peeked her head through the opening. "Hey everybody. Slumber party time? And I didn't get an invitation?" She pouted. "My feelings are hurt."
Dawn's eyes lit up. "Hey Buffy!"
Spike groaned. "Of all the embarrassing timing... Hey, luv."
She climbed down, lugging the bags. "Hey, gimpy."
He started to growl, but it turned into a snort of laughter and he yanked his foot away from the Key at the opposite end of the couch. "I said stop bloody tickling me!"
Dawn looked to her sister. "I'm trying to paint his toes and he just keeps squirming! Tell him to stop!"
"Tell her I can't help it!"
Buffy gave Spike a stern look. "Take it like a man, soldier."
Dawn nodded. "Yeah. Suck it up."
He gave Buffy a pleading look. "But it's torture! She's gonna kill me!"
Buffy tossed a hand dramatically across her forehead. "Thank God you're already dead."
"Very funn- AHH! Dawn!"
She grabbed her overnight back and began lugging it to the tunnel. "Torture away, Dawn. Spike, I'm gonna drop stuff in your bathroom, ok?"
Spike was too busy grinding his teeth together to reply.
Buffy stopped. "Ya know what? I'm gonna shower, too. I'll be back in a while."
Dawn looked up from where she was struggling to hold Spike's foot to nod at her sister. "Ok. He'll be pretty when you're done."
"Wait!," Spike called pitifully. "Don't leave me here!"
Buffy chuckled. "That was sad. Ya know, if you sit still, it'll be over quicker." She left the two to bicker and laugh, and started to unpack in his bathroom.
"I can't stay stILL!!", Spike called after her, the final syllable raising to operatic standards.
Buffy pulled out four towels, a loofa, shampoo, conditioner, soap, and a brush and hair dryer. She shoved a small bag of cosmetics, toothbrush, and perfume into the back of one drawer, and rearranged her things to her liking. She could still hear Spike and Dawn. Now both of them were laughing, and Spike was begging for mercy. Buffy gave a chuckle as she stepped into the shower, and let the water wash over her.
Half an hour later, Buffy emerged from the bathroom, clean, teeth-brushy, and feeling pretty, even though she felt odd knowing she was hoping no one would REALLY notice the absurdity of her wearing a smudge of lip gloss. Her bright pink clingy tank top and black jamma pants were comfortable, and she wore an old pair of slippers. She carried the half empty duffel back out. "Hey guys." Dawn smiled at her from her spot on the floor.
Spike was still laying across the couch, an exhausted expression on his face. He raised a hand and half waved.
Dawn said excitedly, hopping up to grab said hand, "Look at his nails. Tell me how cool they look." She turned his hand this way and that. "I put a glitter coat overtop the black."
Buffy bit back a snorting laugh. "Killer, Dawn. It looks really cool."
Spike didn't even move. He was beyond tired. The kind of tired that squirming nonstop combined with semi-hysterical laughter will get you. Not to mention that he wasn't back to his full strength yet.
"Spike...?" Buffy put a hand on his shoulder. "What drawer..?"
"Any one." His voice was as tired as the rest of him, but there was a light in his eyes. Despite being tired, playing with Dawn had put him into a good mood. In his mind, that was the only good thing about surviving the torture that she'd inflicted.
She smiled and went to his bureau. She opened the bottom drawer and emptied it out, and dispersed it between the other five.
Dawn sat at Spike's feet on the couch, chattering about Wesley from History. Buffy filled the drawer, putting her... unmentionables in the bottom, under all her other clothes.
Spike yawned loudly, forgetting for the moment that he got fangy.
Dawn didn't even seem disturbed, except to say, "Ha. That's so cool. I wish I could do that."
Spike shook it off quickly. "No you don't."
Buffy said at the same time, "No you don't."
"You don't need fangs to be intimidating, Bit."
Dawn grinned engagingly at them. "I know. I've got a mean roundhouse, huh, Buffy?"
Buffy nodded. "Absolutely. But your mind can be intimidating, too, Dawn. Sharpen it, along with your body."
"Wax on, wax off," Spike intoned, playfully.
Dawn swatted him playfully. "Dork."
Buffy nodded. "Ditto."
"Twin pains." The 'twin looks' he got should have shut him up.
He said nothing, but did stick his tongue out at them.
Buffy shut the drawer. "Dawn, did you have dinner?"
"Yeah," Dawn grinned. "Wings and an onion."
Buffy jerked her thumb towards the fridge. "Try an apple, too, Wonder Woman." Dawn trudged over, pouting.
"Summers women," he muttered under his breath.
"We heard that," they said in unison.
He play growled. "Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it?" He climbed to his feet and growled again.
Buffy simply stared him down. "Lay down."
Spike noted her look and pouted. He wanted to play, but he lay down anyway.
"I am not using one more piece of gauze or medical tape on you tonight. So if I beat you up, you bleed to... dusty death."
Spike gasped indignantly. "You wouldn't."
She arched a brow. "Try me tonight."
He sighed and laid back again, stretched along the couch.
She looked at him, said softly, "I'm gonna take my bag o' weapons upstairs. Want me to get you a quick mug of blood? You look kinda drained."
He grinned. "Yeah. That'd be great, luv. And Dawn can keep me company while you're gone."
She smiled. "Ok." Dawn just grumped from where she leaned against the counter, crunching an apple.
Upstairs, Buffy knew she had only a limited amount of time. She dropped the bag and took her knife out quickly. She slid down her jamma pants to see where she had cut only days before. It was almost healed. She took a mug, and returned to the bag for a piece of paper. Holding the knife, she cut herself as she read off the paper. "Brightness beyond sunrise/ Crimson beyond blood that flows/ Buried deep within his mind/ Is the only way he'll know/ I say with caring/ Guard him from my lie/ Accept the bond, and ne'er ask why/ This I command, by my unworthy hand/ Cloak my blood, bless my lie." She let the blood flow until it slowed to a trickle. She taped it up quickly, this time prepared with a small amount of medical supplies. She put everything back in it's place. She dumped more blood into the mug, and yanked her pants back up, scurried down the ladder. She put it in the microwave, smiled at Dawn and Spike on the couch.
Two golden eyes watched from the corner. Harmon sat on his upstairs bed, watching everything the Slayer did. Understanding, in his own way, what she was trying to do, but wondering if she knew what was in store...
Downstairs, Buffy pulled the mug out of the microwave when it beeped, sprinkling marshmallows in it. She carried it to the couch, and waited till Spike and Dawn made room for her.
Spike licked his lips, trying not to seem too hungry, but his eyes flashed yellow, and he remembered that he hadn't eaten since that morning.
Dawn scooted to the other end of the couch, giving Buffy the middle. Her and Spike. Best of both worlds, she figured.
"Merowww!!", Harmon called from the stairs. But it was no use. They didn't understand him anyway. He walked over and hopped up on the coffee table. "Rooowr!", he tried again. Spike glanced at him, but the vampire's instinctive animal understanding was poorly developed, and he accepted the mug from Buffy despite the feline's warning.
Buffy picked up Harm, and settled him on her lap as she sat between Spike and her sister. "Hey, Harm. How are ya today?"
Harmon decided that maybe visuals would work. He meowed at Buffy, then batted at the mug, then rowred at Spike. Once again, the vampire looked at him, and Harm had hope, but then Spike drank the mug, and the cat had the very human thought of "Shit."
Dawn gave the cat a weird look. "Did you turn that cat?"
Spike almost choked. "What?"
She shrugged. "It's all, rrrraaaaar-ee for the blood."
Spike looked at Harmon again. "What is wrong with you today, boy?" The cat had a desire to just hit him. But, being a nice kitty, he didn't. "merrow," he muttered quietly. The blood was gone, anyway, the spell was in effect, and there was nothing more he could do. He only could hope that the Slayer knew what she was doing.