Chapter 2: A Night With Possibilities

"We can take the bike." Spike said, referring to a beaten down motorcycle parked in front of the Bronze.

"Bike?" Buffy wrinkled her nose. "What happened to your old Desoto?"

"Old girl finally decided she had enough and broke down on me a while ago." Spike quipped. "Filched this from an unsuspecting banker with a mid-life crisis." He straddled the bike and revved the engine. "Well hop on!" he said, referring to the hesitant slayer.

"What about helmets?" Buffy asked, pulling her jacket around herself tighter.

Spike snorted. "Fine time to play Ms. Sunnydale Safety Princess. Not a very practical thing to be with the slayer night job and all." He sighed. "Didn't have time to nick the helmets. You'll just have do without and hold tight onto to me."

Buffy whirled around to see if he was smirking, but only met his serious eyes, filled with concern over Dawn. She slipped onto the bike and gingerly wound her arms around Spike's waist, trying to ignore how nicely firm and strong it felt. Spike also gulped when he felt Buffy's small hands grasping at his sides and was glad when the thick silence was filled by the rushing wind whipping around them.

"So where are we headed?" Buffy yelled over the wind and engine, breaking the silence.

"Thought we might look around town for awhile. Trust the little bugger to pull a stunt like this. She used to do this a lot you know."

Buffy was slightly irritated that Spike seemed to know her sister better than she did. "Used to do what?"

"Go tromping off, leaving us to go on a wild goose chase trying to find her. She did it a lot when you di---- were gone."

Buffy immediately stiffened and felt Spike do the same in her arms. She knew the little correction was just as much for him as it was for her and she was grateful. "Where would she go?" Buffy asked, softer this time.

Spike sighed, hating to remember the time when the woman whose touch was currently making him swoon was buried six feet under. "To the graveyard mostly. Would visit you and your mum's tombstones a lot, just sittin there, bawlin' her eyes out." Spike's voice became strangled, remembering all the times he visited Buffy's gravesite as well. One of the first times Dawn had disappeared, Spike found her there, crying. He sat and silently cried with her for hours until the first glimmers of sunlight and it was only by Dawn's insistence that he ducked into his crypt before combusting completely.

Buffy felt the salty tears blur her eyes as well. "Poor Dawn," she murmured, letting the tears roll down her cheeks and neck.

"Yeah well," Spike cleared his throat, "Sometimes she'd just wander all over town, muttering and crying, the silly git she is. I thought we would look for her doing that since . . . well she doesn't have much reason to go the graveyard anymore."

"She could be visiting Mom."

"No, she's so much happier since you've been back Buffy. I can't think why she'd go and do a bloody stupid thing like this. You two not getting along?"

Buffy sighed. "I don't even know. She's still not talking to Willow and I ---- well I don't know how to deal with that."

"Then she's probably just blowin' off some steam," Spike encouraged. "She's probably just taken a walk or something. If we can't find her, we'll head back to my crypt to see if she's there."

Buffy nodded. She always felt comforted by Spike in moments like these. Other times, he could so infuriating that Buffy felt inclined to let Mr. Pointy have a say in the matter, but in times like these, she found it impossible to hate him. He didn't have to say much, or even do much, but his silence gave to her more comfort than Willow's bumbling questions of concern or Xander's snappy witticisms could ever give.

Spike was aware that Buffy's arms were beginning to curl tighter around his waist and he felt he was about to pop from the desire to just pull over and drag her into a patch of soft grass and attack her with his hungry lips and kisses. It was going to be a long night.