A/N: I didn't intend to take a month to update this, especially since I had the first half of this written by the time I posted the first two chapters. But had a family emergency and all that, so to anyone who was actually reading this, sorry for the wait, and thank you for reading.

I'm worried I wrote myself into a hole here… But hey, I wanted it up. This story plagues me in my dreams. Eh… Maybe not. Thanks peeps. :D

Chapter 3 - Back & Forth

Buffy awoke with a groan. "How can every inch, inside and out hurt like this?" she asked sleepily, eyes still shut.

"Dunno, but it looks like you had a rough night."

Buffy's eyes opened immediately at the sound of Spike's voice. Her eyes darted around the room she recognized as the lower floor of Spike's crypt. She was snuggled up in a quilt, of all things, in a twin-sized bed. "New bed?" she asked.

"Yeah. Someone blew up my old one." And at that, he got up from his seat and walked to her side. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

Buffy leaned back to take a look at the vampire she hadn't seen in nearly half a year. He was in his usual garb, black shirt and jeans, but his hair looked like it hadn't been tended to in weeks, possibly months. Brown and white mixed in unruly curls all over his head. "Your hair is weird," she said, still sounding groggy.

He unconsciously ran a hand through it. "Yeah? Wouldn't know. No reflection and all. Yours looks nice, though."

Buffy unconsciously mirrored Spike's action and put her hand to her hair. Then she felt the bandage on her neck. That woke her up. She tossed off the blanket and also saw the bandage right above her knee. "Spike… Why am I only wearing one of your shirts?"

"Your clothes were soaked. I didn't think leaving you in them would be good for you. And I needed to get to your leg." Then he saw the enraged look on her face. "What? I didn't look."

"Oh. Yes. Of course. The vampire that almost raped me didn't sneak a peak at my naked, unconscious body! I bet! Where are my clothes?!" She snapped, hopping out of the bed. Her leg didn't seem to bother her. She gave it a test wiggle. It had healed. "God. How long have I been here?"

"About eight hours," he said, placing her clothes on the bed.

"Turn around." She commanded, picking up her jeans. He complied without complaint, and it surprised Buffy. "What? No 'not like I haven't seen it all before?'" she said, mocking his accent.

He just stood in silence while she continued to dress.

"Ok. You can turn around now."

And as soon as he did, Buffy slapped him hard across his face. "Ow! God woman! What was that for? I bloody saved your life, you know."

"Yeah. You also slept with my friend, tried to violate me, and left me just as everything went to Hell. I'd say I'm entitled… So now I'm going, and if I were you, I'd stay away from me and mine, if you want to stay undusty."

----------------

"Well I think this qualifies as scorned, if scorned I must be," Buffy said, stalking towards the Magic Box in the afternoon sun, positioning her hair over the bandage on her neck.

When Buffy first entered the store, Anya looked up with a giant grin. But when she saw it was Buffy and not a customer, the grin melted into a frown and she coldly said, "Giles isn't here right now."

"Well actually, I wanted to talk to you. I'm glad you're here."

"To me? Why? To rub it in? That you got your revenge? Because wow! I'm sorry I slept with Spike, OK? You didn't need to take Xander from me. I didn't know Warren and his nerd herd were peeping toms. I didn't know you were in love with Spike. If I'd known, it never would have happened."

"Now Anya- hold on a sec. I was not… in love… with Spike. It was confusing and different but… No! That's not even the issue. I was not out for revenge. There was no revenging. I didn't try to steal Xander from you."

Buffy moved to the table and sat down. Anya followed suit.

"Well maybe you didn't set out to get him, but now that you've got him, you can have him. Feel free."

"But I don't want him!" Buffy started.

"Well," Anya said in a soft tone that reeked of sarcasm, "That's just great, isn't it? You don't want him." She paused only slightly, then continued, with her voice significantly rising in volume and pace. "You don't want him. The man I loved enough to marry." Then she was screaming. "The man that didn't want me, and left me, wants you now, and you don't even care! Well that's just great! Do you know how that makes me feel?!"

"Anya!" Buffy shouted, stopping the tirade. "You don't understand. I don't want Xander, and he doesn't want me either. He wants you." She turned to study Anya's expression, which was a cross between skeptical and hopeful. Then Buffy smiled and softened. "I'm sorry. I should have made myself more clear. Everything that happened this morning was just a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?"

"A big misunderstanding."

"A big misunderstanding?"

"Big. With a cherry on top."

"That big, huh?"

"Big with a cherry and a capital 'wow.'"

"Misunderstanding. I see. Continue."

"Yeah, you see… I've had this secret admirer and Dawn told me she thought it was Xander-"

"So Xander was your secret admirer? Because now this doesn't seem like a misunderstanding. I'm misunderstanding your misunderstanding."

"No, Anya, he wasn't my secret admirer."

"Yeah? Then who was?"

Buffy shifted uncomfortably. "Well, who it was isn't the issue right now. The issue is that it wasn't Xander, and that I just thought it was when I said all that stuff today. Truth is… He hasn't been leaving me presents, he doesn't have those feelings for me, and he does want to get back together with you.

"But he did say something to you guys last night about not wanting to be with me anymore, didn't he?"

"No, not exactly. It was just that… We were yelling at him about the way he acted towards you-"

"Really? You were? You were siding with me? Even though you've known and loved Xander for many years, even through his awkward and virginal stages?" Anya asked excitedly.

"Yes, Anya," Buffy said, unable to hide her amusement at Anya's sudden glee. "We told him that if he ever wanted to get back together with you, then he'd have to stop acting like that, and he was offended that we were siding with you. He said he never said anything about wanting to be with you again…" then she saw Anya about to speak, "…BUT, he was just being petty. He does want to be with you again. I know it."

"Yeah, well, not enough to marry me."

"You may be surprised."

Anya looked surprised and sweet for a moment, before again becoming skeptical and bitter. "Well, even if that were the case, why should I care? He left me at the altar. That was so embarrassing and heart breaking and awful. You have no idea… And then, when I somehow manage to find a little comfort… after he'd left me… He turns me into the bad guy. I got nothing but grief and blame over that for weeks. And even after I thought it was settled, I found that he STILL holds it against me."

"Anya. You're right. I can't possibly know what it felt like for you, to be left at the altar like that. And I know that his being 'sorry' doesn't seem like much. But he is sorry. At the time, he was scared, and he wasn't sure he could overcome the obstacles and his fears. But now, now he wants to try and overcome them. And wow… I should really let him tell you all this. He'd probably do it a lot better than I could."

"Ha! I highly doubt that. He can probably apologize about as well as he can forgive… And we know his talent for that, when it comes to me at least, is... is… crap. So yeah."

Buffy sighed and shifted uncomfortably in her seat again. "Well, Anya, I know that, at least in my case… The whole scene… with Spike… and the table… was kind of painful. And I can just imagine how it was for Xander, because he loved you. He still wanted to be with you. He just thought it might be too difficult or that families would kill each other or that he'd end up causing you both pain. And then seeing you with someone else caused even more pain…"

"Yeah? Well. Love is pain. It takes a strong person to love, and Xander just wasn't up for it."

"Maybe not, but I think he is now."

At that point, Buffy stood and walked to the door, but she turned to speak to Anya one more time. "I didn't say it right, I'm sure. I'm trying to think up excuses. It just shouldn't be that way. But, if you don't forgive him from what I said, at least, when he tries to talk to you, listen to him. Give him your attention. It takes a strong person to give, too. To give another chance."

"Buffy…" Anya called before Buffy could exit.

"Yeah?"

"I am sorry, you know. About sleeping with Spike. I don't think I ever said it before. So I'll say it now."

Buffy nodded, and left the shop.

----------------

"Mmm… Warm shower and a change of clothes comin' my way." Buffy said, entering her front door. She immediately headed for the steps.

"And what do you think you're doing, young lady?" Dawn demanded from the living room, hands on hips.

"Oh please don't play the overbearing the mom right now, Dawn."

"Yeah. Sorry. I just wanted to try it for a change. But really. What's up with you. You look awful. And in yesterday's outfit, no less."

"Among other things, I found out in the most humiliating and harmful way imaginable that Xander is not my secret admirer." Buffy said, glaring at Dawn.

"What? Oh wow. Buffy. What happened?"

Buffy sighed. "Look, Dawn. I will sit down with you and tell you all about it, but right now I just want to take a nice shower. I've had just about the worst day off ever."

"All right. But I'll be waiting."

"Ok. But be productive. Do your homework while you wait or something. K? Oh, or hey. Better yet. Make me dinner."

"And that's productive how?"

"You'll be producing food... for me. I'll be upstairs." Buffy teased, before trudging up the staircase.

----------------

Buffy sprawled her body out on her bed. Her hair was wet from the shower, but she'd changed into a clean green shirt and pair of dry blue jeans. Then she moaned. "Still all ouchie," she said rubbing her neck. Then the memories came back. Still ouchie.

With a flash, she first saw the look of despair on Anya's face when she'd overheard that morning's conversation with Xander; then Xander in a despairing heap on the floor after Anya left. There was Willow, alone on her bed, in a cold sweat and crying, while Buffy, only a room away and oblivious, struggled to silently get Spike's shirt off. And Spike. Spike bruised and battered by her hand. Spike with hurt in his eyes. Spike, full of panic and desperation in her bathroom...

"Spike!" she sputtered, shaking herself out of her daze. "Spike's in Sunnydale. Great," she finished, willing herself off her bed and to the closet.

"We'll get to the guilt-o-rama creature feature in a bit," she said to herself, pulling a duffle bag out of her closet and tossing it onto her bed. She followed that act by grabbing Spike's duster from the hanger and unceremoniously stuffing it into the bag. "Yes. In a bit," she started, retrieving her box and comb from underneath the bed and adding them to the bag's contents. "But first, I have business to attend to," she finished, slinging the bag over her shoulder, climbing out the window and shoving a stake up her sleeve.

----------------

Buffy stormed through the cemetery flailing her stake about in frustration.

"Come on Buffy! You can do this! You've staked vampires more times than you've flossed your teeth... which is kinda yuck. Gotta work on that. But no. Gotta work on this first. Not hard. Just thrust, turn, pull. Thrust, turn, pull." she mimicked the actions expressed in her pep talk with her stake. "Come on. Don't even need the turns or the pulls. Just one good... Oomph," she finished, giving the air a final, forceful jab.

Being pre-occupied, even in the late afternoon sun, Buffy didn't see Dawn trailing a few yards behind her.

"Looks like Buffy's going to do some major league slaying," Dawn remarked to herself.

----------------

Spike was thinking, leaning against his coffin when the door to his crypt burst open. It was Buffy, with a bag over her shoulder and a stake clutched tightly at her side. She panned the room with her steely gaze until her eyes settled on Spike.

But then she seemed to crumple. Her hard face morphed into a pout and before Spike could even take a step towards her she dropped her bag on the floor, said, "Those are yours," and left the crypt. Then, before he could even register what had just happened, Buffy reappeared. "Uh, this bag is mine," she said sheepishly, scooping it up, walking towards Spike and dropping it on the sarcophagus.

Spike gave Buffy some room and stepped back while she unzipped the sack. "Actually, pet, I think it's my bag. You borrowed it from me last year and never brought it back.

Buffy wouldn't look at him. She sounded even more sheepish. "Yeah, well… You probably stole it from someone else in the first place, so I'm just going to keep it."

Spike gave a silent chuckle at her weak attempt of defiance and watched her adoringly as she concentrated overly hard on removing the box, coat and comb from the bag. She looked so determined, as if nothing else but her task mattered, so Spike was surprised when seeming engrossed in the bag's contents, she spoke. "You're hair's still weird."

Buffy never looked up to see his reaction, but he still ran a hand through his hair. He'd managed to find time to re-bleach it in the last few hours, but it hung in a loose mass of wild white waves around his head.

"Well, I wasn't out to please her Slayerness with my hair gelling abilities today, but if she wishes it, I'm sure I can find some cohesive hair products somewhere," he said with a smirk.

"No. Don't," she quickly piped in, finally straightening up to look at him. "This makes you look younger."

"Funny. Feel older." He'd said it so casually, but the look in his eyes when he said it was so intense that Buffy had to look away from him.

Then small talk was over. Down to business. "Why'd you come back, Spike?"

"Why do I ever come back to this place?"

"Because you always want to kill me?" she supplied dryly.

"Oh. Right. Well, not that then. Not to kill you. But I came back because of you, maybe."

"Then you should have saved yourself the trip," she said, suddenly bitter. "And the impending staking," she added.

There was a flash of hurt in his eyes before he responded. "What? Didn't like the presents?" he spat, with a sudden bitterness that rivaled hers.

"They aren't appropriate," she said flatly.

"Surprised you didn't bring Bit's back as well."

"If I did that, I'd never hear the end of it. Though… I think I left a sizable portion of her cookies by a gnome-shaped gravestone this morning. I implore you to go get those."

Spike stared at her incredulously, looking as if he was caught between wanting to scream and wanting to laugh. He chose the latter. "You're a strange girl," he said when he'd finished a hearty fit of laughter.

Buffy looked up at him with a crinkled brow and a frown, but the frown quickly melted into a wry smile. "Yeah. You too," she said, hoisting herself up onto Spike's coffin.

"Ha ha," he said flatly. "And why don't you just make yourself at home," he teased, seating himself next to her on the stone slab.

"You know you're not welcome in my town, right?" It wasn't really a question.

"Was I ever? Don't know if I'd ever want to be," he replied. They were both quiet for a moment, absorbing the solemn shift in the conversation.

"We can't go back," she said seriously.

"Forward?"

"I don't know." She paused and sighed. "I doubt it."

Spike huffed, then closed his eyes for a moment, letting the short and sudden conversation sink in. Buffy looked at the ground and lightly kicked the back of her heals against the coffin like a fidgety child.

"Do your friends know I'm back in town?" he asked.

"Not yet, but I'm sure they will. It seems that when I have a secret relationship of any kind with a vampire, they manage to find out. I just bet Xander will come strolling in here any second now."

"God let's hope not," Spike groaned.

Buffy gave another wry smile before becoming serious again. "Yeah. You should hope not…. Spike… They know what happened, before you left. It's not safe for you here. With the way you left things, before you… left… They just won't be happy to see you. Things could get dirty, in the dusty sense. You should probably just leave."

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked, turning to look at her.

"Spike…" she warned. "Don't ask me things like that. Nothing good will come out of questions like those," she said, getting up, grabbing her now empty bag, and walking to the door.

"It's been asked. Deal with it and answer." Spike called to her, making no attempt to move from his seat.

Buffy sighed, but then responded. She gave no emotion away. "I think it would be best for everyone involved if you just left, Spike. Including you. Including me."

Spike's response wasn't so much defiant as it was hesitant. "And if I don't?"

"If you don't leave, then I'll be forced to-"

"Stake me?"

"Well maybe, if you make it a habit of interrupting me." Buffy said, feigning anger, and opening the door.

"Buffy, wait. Really. You'll be forced to what?" he called from his seat.

"Well I'm not telling you now. You missed your shot because of your yapping," Buffy teased, turning her back on him, taking a step through the doorframe. But as she was about to make her way out, she froze. Spike had silently and instantly managed to reach the crypt door and stop her by placing a hand on her shoulder. Then Spike noticed what he was doing and recoiled. Buffy pretended not to notice.

"What do you want, Spike?" Buffy asked, trying to sound annoyed, but an uncomfortable twinge was evident in her voice.

"I want to know what you'd do if I didn't leave."

"God, Spike. Where do you get off suddenly demanding all these answers, or anything, for that matter? You haven't exactly done anything to endear yourself to me lately."

"Endear? Well, how about we set up a bartering system; endearing acts can be traded for answers… And oh, look. I have one very endearing saving-your-life-this-very-morning to cash in. Pay up. Answer please." He was obviously serious, but more playful than angry.

"Ah yes. How could I forget, as you take every opportunity possible to bring it up," Buffy nagged, eyes widening for emphasis. "Still, as much as I appreciate what you so obviously did selflessly out the of the goodness of your heart-wrenching need for blackmail and bargaining chips, I think we can knock that out of the endearing column since you then took the opportunity to look at and do god-only-knows-what to my sleeping body."

"I told you I didn't look!" Spike interjected. It almost sounded like a whine. It almost made Buffy smile.

"Funny… Still don't believe you…" Buffy sing-songed, again turning towards the exit.

"Buffy, why can't you just deal with it and answer?" Spike asked, getting agitated all over again.

"Yes. That's just it. I have to deal with it, and I don't want to," Buffy said seriously.

"I don't see what the problem is. You were going to tell me anyway, but now you've gone so blasted coy that it's-"

"No, I mean, if you don't go, I'll have to deal with it. With you. And I sooo don't want to do that right now," Buffy admitted.

"Oh. Er… I'm sorry…" Spike mumbled.

Buffy looked at him curiously a moment before admitting even more. "I don't want to deal with you, Spike, and I don't want to forgive you."

Her tone was soft, but also brutally honest. Spike could only bow his head and agree. "You shouldn't have to deal with me. I knew you'd never forgive me. Coming back here is just hurting you. I shouldn't have been so daft. I was just being-"

Buffy watched Spike play a solitary round of the "blame game" with a mixture of confusion and fascination before cutting him off. "Spike. Stop talking please. It's creepy."

Spike stared ahead, mouth agape, so she took the opportunity to finally make her way out the door and into the safety of the dwindling bit of remaining sunlight. But before she went five feet she turned around to look at Spike from across the threshold and said, "And no. I said I didn't want to, not that I'd never." Then she was gone.

----------------

Dawn was sitting behind a bush next to the crypt, looking uncomfortable, bored and pissed off.

"I knew I should have brought a crossword puzzle," Dawn grumbled. Then she reached behind her and pulled a twig from her hair. "Oh uck," she whined, grimacing at the offending branch. She sighed and twirled it around in her fingers.

Dawn idly continued to examine the twig while talking to it. "Why can't Buffy be louder when she kills stuff so I can hear what's going on, huh? She snores louder than this." Then Dawn tossed the twig aside and slumped against the crypt's outer wall. "At least she better be killing stuff in there, because if she ditched me just to play charades with Clem I'm gonna-"

Dawn immediately halted her rant when she saw Buffy emerge from the crypt. She tightened into a ball, hoping to be less noticeable, but Buffy didn't seem to notice anything anyway. It looked as if she was intent on leaving, but then she stopped to say something. Dawn strained her ears to listen. "And no. I said I didn't want to, not that I'd never." After saying that, Buffy did walk away.

Dawn looked frantically between the fleeing Buffy and the crypt she left behind. Follow Buffy or find out what in the world she'd been doing? Dawn opted for the latter and waited until Buffy was out of sight before she stood up, stretched, and brushed herself off. She stepped out of the foliage and made her way to the crypt door. She paused for a moment, checked to make sure her stake was secured in her pocket, took a deep breath and entered the crypt.

Dawn stepped cautiously into the room and scanned it for signs of anything. "Ok… No signs of struggle… No signs of life…" Then something in the seemingly deserted chamber caught her eye. She walked over to the coffin in the middle of the room and picked up the comb resting there. "Buffy's comb…" She looked down. "Buffy's box. Clem's crypt." Dawn quickly put the comb down and hugged herself. "Clem? Well that's kind of freaky. 'Hello, I'm Dawn. This is my brother-in-law, Clem… What do you mean why does he look like that? Oh… No… It was a bad liposuction accident… The doctors say there's a chance he'll never fit in his skin again… But he's sensitive about it. I wouldn't mention it.' Yeah…"

Then something else caught Dawn's attention. For a moment she only stared at the ball of wadded leather sitting at the end of the coffin, but after a moment she picked it up and shook it out. She held it up in front of her and let realization sink in. And when she heard someone entering the upper level of the crypt, she didn't have to look.

"You're not Clem," she said passively, still looking at the coat.

"No, I don't suppose I am." Spike replied. When he noticed Dawn exhibiting the same 'thoroughly examine everything in the room that isn't Spike' practice that her sister utilized, and he let out a half-smile.

Dawn stood, looking at the coat for a moment longer, before growing tired of the pretense, tossing it across the coffin lid, and turning towards Spike, with arms crossed. "Yeah. You're not Clem. Where is he? Did you kill him?"

"Did I what?! Are you insane, girl?" Spike yelped incredulously.

"No, just looking out for the people I care about." Dawn said, seating herself on the sarcophagus.

"Why don't you just make yourself at home?" Spike said, with less sarcasm than he'd used with her sister just a few minutes prior.

"Yeah, uh, thanks." Dawn said, lacking some of her previous fire.

"Yeah, so… uh…" he started, looking everywhere in the room except at Dawn. She looked confused by his nervousness, but then their gazes finally met and Spike started again in a much more normal tone. "So, Bit, what are you doing here? Because as big of a treat it is to see all the girls I love, I'm guessing that-"

"Whoa!" Dawn interrupted, immediately standing and locking her arms in a halting pose. "You do NOT get to say you love us. Not after what you've done to us. Not after what you almost did to Buffy. Not after you left me. You don't get to say that."

Hurt and guilt crossed Spike's face, which again surprised Dawn, who looked prepared for a fight. But he shook the look and continued. "Dawn, I'm sorry that I left you, but after… after what happened with Buffy… which you apparently know about," Spike added, trying to keep the discomfort from his voice. "But after that, I just couldn't stay. She needed a reprieve. I needed-"

"No, that's not what I mean."

"What?" He gave her a confused head tilt.

"You left me a long time before that," Dawn said in a chilly tone. She tried to search his face for a reaction to her words, but he wouldn't look at her. "So you know… huh."

"Nibblet, I know we didn't spend that much time together last year… but you're growing up and I didn't think you needed a babysitter…"

"Oh God. That's such scapegoat, vampire logic," Dawn spat. "I don't think I needed a babysitter either, but I did need a friend, which, as soon as Buffy started giving you the time of day, you were most definitely not."

Then Spike did something that Dawn found mighty peculiar. The look on his face became one of anger. His jaw clenched… And then he turned away from her and muttered, "Bloody stupid wanker!" before turning back around to look at her with a soft, apologetic look. "Dawn, you are right. I got… distracted. Got so caught up in what I thought I could have with Buffy that I didn't pay attention to what I already bloody well had."

"And that's deceitful, vampire logic." Dawn said, looking down at her feet. "I was never anything for you in the first place. Xander once told me that you probably just hung out with me to get into Buffy's pants, and now, I'm beginning to believe that. What other reason would you be my friend?"

"Oh please! Let's not start with the pity parties. I've been a guest at one too many of those things these last few months." At that point, Spike took a few strides and stopped right in front of Dawn, waiting until she looked up before he spoke again. "Dawn, there are many reasons. One is that in many ways, you remind me of Buffy. Isn't the only reason, but sometimes that fact alone made last summer more bearable. And you were such a curious little thing. Always wanting to be in the thick of things, even if you had to sneak around. Breaking into the magic box to find answers and taking initiative by trying to do that spell to bring your mum back? Maybe not the brightest ideas ever… But brave. I admire that." Then he paused. "There? That enough? Or should I continue with this episode of the 'Let's Praise Dawn Hour?'"

Dawn shifted around a bit, a small smile creeping to her lips before she regained her composure and pressed Spike more. "Ok. You admit that ditching someone you care about is bad. Ok… Yeah. Like it's all good now? This is some twisted form of the A.A.? 'Hello. My name is Spike and I'm an asshole?' Somehow, I don't think so."

Spike ran his hands through his hair and took a short, frantic pace around his crypt before standing again before Dawn. Then he replied in a voice that wasn't over-emotional, but was still sincere. "Dawn, I'm sorry… I'm… See, lately I've been making these mental lists. They're no good, but I've been making them. And for this year, my top ten regrets list… What I did to you, it goes somewhere near the top of that list. Probably somewhere between Anya and demon eggs."

"Demon eggs?"

"Don't ask."

"Yeah… I think I'll just let that one lay," she said with a smirk.

"Oh. No. No way. This is a no pun zone. Get out."

They both laughed for a moment before Dawn spoke again, "Spike, I want you to know, that I understand why you made with a little less of the Dawn lovin'. And I want you to know that I forgive you."

"You do?"

Dawn nodded.

"Oh, god Dawn. I've missed you," he said happily. Dawn yelped when Spike picked her up and started swinging her around. "We should make up for the lost time. We should-"

"Spike hold on." He looked up at her, confused, but took the hint and put her down. "Spike, I don't think we can be friends, or share any friendly feelings."

To that, Spike looked skyward; muttered, "Fickleness, thy name is Summers;" and asked her, "Why not?"

"Well, mostly because of what I guess is number one on that mental list of yours."

"Oh." No arguments. No surprise or resentment. Just 'oh.'

"Yeah. I mean… Buffy's a big girl. She can fight her own battles, and obviously she doesn't want you dead, or you'd be… dead. And it's been proven more than once that she trusts you not to hurt me, so I don't need to threaten staking you on my own behalf, but I do need to say that if you ever try to hurt Buffy again, I will be after you if she doesn't kill you first. And the 'Hey, watch out cuz I might kill you' clause puts a little strain on a friendship."

"Worked all right for me and Buffy."

"Well, really, it didn't." Dawn said with a wry smile.

"No, really didn't, did it?"

"Not really, but hey, you know, if it makes you feel any better, I don't think I'll have to stake you."

"No? What makes you think that?"

"Let's just call it the vibes I'm getting from my slayer's intuition."

Spike looked amused. "So what? You're a slayer now?"

"Well, not exactly, but I've got all this slayer's blood… So I think that entitles me to claim slayer's intuition," she backpedaled.

"Of course." Spike said, waving a hand in the air for emphasis.

After the momentarily bit of camaraderie, an uncomfortable silence settled over the duo and they both idly shuffled their feet before Dawn broke the silence. "Yeah, so, speaking of slayers, how did your meeting go with my sister?"

"Um. I'm not quite sure. It was strange." He paused to think a second. "A lot like this meeting; surprisingly bittersweet with a leaning towards the sweet. I wasn't expecting it. I was fully prepared to grovel."

"Well, I'm sure there's time for that yet."

"Can't wait. I don't like this. It's too easy."

Once again, Dawn looked perplexed. "Well hey, like I said. No friendly feelings…. You. Still. Very bad. Very bad." Dawn waggled her finger at Spike. "You've just surprised us, I think… And something weird is up with Buffy. I think something happened to her. And you know… I should probably go do the sister thing and find out, actually, so, I'm gonna go. You should stay here." Then before Spike could get a word in edgewise, she flew out the door.

Then right back in again. "Remember. You try anything, I'll kill you. I can do it." Then she exited the crypt for the second time.

Spike watched her leave for a moment before he stared up at the ceiling, "Three… Two… One-"

"Oh, and Spike?" Dawn said from the doorframe.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the cookies and stuff."

After her third and final retreat, Spike walked to his door and stepped out into the early evening. After a quick surveillance of the area, which yielded nothing more than crickets and dirt, he went back inside, and shut the door.

That's when everything broke. "Oh god," Spike moaned, slumping against the closed door and sliding to the floor. Awash in inner turmoil, with his head in his hands he looked about ready to cry… when he heard the scream. Dawn's.

"Must be Tuesday."

Spike shook himself off and ran out the door.