Spike waited and watched. He knew that Buffy was going to have her first run-in with Glory very soon and he was torn. He didn't know if he should help Buffy or stay behind to watch over Joyce and Dawn. He finally came to the conclusion that Glory wasn't going to hurt Buffy, and that Buffy would get vital information about Dawn if he let things be. Decision made, he went to the Summers' house, hoping to get a better idea of where he was in the timeline. He knew Joyce was home from the hospital, and that Buffy was very worried about her. Maybe it was time to do a little more pushing.

When he got to the house, he heard Dawn's yell and almost went haring through the front door. Then he heard Buffy warn Dawn to stay away from her mother, and remembered what Dawn had told him about Buffy's reaction to the unveiling spell. So instead of running to the rescue, he stopped and waited by the tree, smoking a cigarette. A few minutes later, Buffy came out.

"Slayer," he called, catching her attention.

She stopped and looked at him, surprised that he was there, then her mouth hardened into a thin line. "What are you doing here, Spike?"

He put out his cigarette, crushing the butt under his boot. "Heard your mum was out of hospital. Came to see how she was doin'."

The line softened a bit and Buffy seemed to deflate. "She's better. She went out."

"Glad to hear it. Did they do one of them CAT scans?"

Buffy shook her head. "Not yet. They're waiting for more test results to come back."

He scowled. "Not good enough, Slayer. You take her back and make 'em do one."

"Oh like, I just drag her back there and beat an orderly until he agrees to do one?" she snapped.

He shrugged. "Might work."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Look, Spike. Thanks for coming by, but I don't have time for this. I gotta go. I'll tell Mom you were asking about her."

"Thanks. Right then, off you go."

They moved to go their separate ways, when he looked up and saw Dawn in the window. She looked stricken and his heart clenched.

'Poor Little Bit.'

"Hey, Slayer!" he called, making her turn around. "Be careful. Lotsa nasties out there. Be on your guard."

Her brow creased at his warning and he paused, trying not to look guilty, but then she straightened and put on her defiant face.

"I can handle myself. Good night, Spike."

He couldn't help but smile, watching her walk away- head high. This was a Buffy untouched by grief: strong and powerful. This was the Buffy he had wanted to die for. He waited until she was out of sight before turning back to the house and going in. He found Dawn pouring herself a glass of juice in the kitchen.

"Hello, Bite Size," he greeted.

Dawn shrieked and dropped the glass. It shattered all over the floor.

"Oh now look at the mess you've made?" he tsked disapprovingly.

"What are you doing here?! Buffy is so gonna kick your ass when she finds out you came in," Dawn snapped, backing against the counter as he moved past her to get the mop and broom.

"Now, now. No need to get nasty, Bite Size. I just came to see your mum."

He handed her the broom and dustpan so she could sweep up the broken glass. She accepted them warily.

"Mom's not here. She went out."

"I'll just wait for her then."

Dawn swept up the glass and went to empty the dustpan into the trash.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Spike puffed out his chest and smirked, he thumbs hooking into the waistband of his jeans. "Scared of the Big Bad, are you?"

Dawn scoffed. "Oh like really. I know about your chip, Spike."

He deflated a bit, and she gave him a smug smile as she took the mop from him and started cleaning up the spilled juice.

"So you know about my little plastic problem, do you?" he whispered, leaning into her ear and causing her to jump.

Her teenage hand slapped him on the chest, pushing him away. He barely felt it.

"Get away from me!" she yelled, dropping the mop and skittering across the kitchen floor.

He gave her a grin and snagged a potato chip from an open bag. "So, whatchya got to eat in this place, Bite Size, besides you?"

Dawn huffed and opened the snack cabinet. Five minutes later they were both sitting at the counter drinking cocoa and nibbling on junk food.

"Mmm. Ho-ho's. I tell you, the bloke that came up with these things, bloody brilliant he was," Spike sighed, popping one in his mouth.

Dawn giggled and he shot her an irritated glance.

"What?" he said defensively.

"You're just so different from all the other vampires I've met. I mean, you eat food, and you're not all evil and scary"

"Hey! I am too evil and scary! You take that back!" he demanded, standing up.

His indignant look only made her laugh more and inwardly her laughter warmed him. This was a Dawn who had never lost her mum, her sister or ever suffered. But still, he had an image to preserve.

"No," she refused, still smiling.

"You take it back or I'll I'll"

She crossed her arms and waited. "Or you'll"

He growled and hunched back down on the stool, pretending to sulk. She giggled again and he had a truly evil thought. One even the soul wanted to follow through with.

"Or I'll smash your Barbie Dreamhouse into little plastic bits," he threatened, a gleam in his eye.

Dawn registered her shock clearly on her face. "You wouldn't dare!" Then her expression hardened. "Hey, how'd you know I had a Barbie Dreamhouse?"

'Oops. Busted. Quick, think fast.'

"Doesn't every red blooded, American girl have one? Don't they, like, give the parents a gift certificate for one at birth?" he hedged. He didn't want her to know that he had seen it in her bedroom one day during the long summer of Buffy's death.

The scowl was back, and he knew he had deflected any more prying questions. "Don't you touch my Dreamhouse."

He was about to retort something back when the front door opened, and they heard Joyce calling for her daughters. A moment later she entered the kitchen.

"Oh, hello, Spike," Joyce said, surprised to see him.

"Hello, Joyce," he greeted, vacating his stool and ushering her to sit.

"Mom, you're back real early."

Joyce let out a heavy sigh and sat down. "I know. I called off my big night out on account of my feeling crappy."

Spike was already moving about the kitchen, setting the kettle on the stove and pulling out tea. If either Joyce or Dawn wondered how he knew where everything was kept, they didn't say.

"So, to what do we owe this pleasure?" Joyce asked as he set the teacup and bag on the counter along with the sugar.

"Just stopped by to see how you were doing," he answered.

Joyce sighed. "Crappy. I was feeling better earlier, but now"

"Want more of your pills?" Dawn asked hopefully.

Joyce put a hand to her head and winced. "That might be a good idea, honey. They're upstairs. Would you get them?"

Dawn hurried out as Spike took a good look at the ailing woman.

"You're feeling poorly, Joyce. You should go back to the hospital. Get more tests. Get a CAT scan."

"I'll be fine just as soon as I take more pills."

"'S no good, Joyce. You shouldn't be in this much pain."

He placed both hands on the counter and looked at her, silently forcing her to look at him. Understanding passed between them as adult met adult, and Joyce's façade faded.

"I have to take care of them. They can't be worried about me. Buffy can't be worried about me," she said softly, letting the fear seep into her eyes for him to see.

He nodded then patted her hand as the teakettle went off. "It'll be alright, Mum. I promise."

She gave him a grateful smile and nod as he poured the water into her cup.

"Thank you," she said, and he knew it wasn't just for the tea, but Dawn had just returned with Joyce's medication so he couldn't comment further.

"'S, no problem. Call it payback for the cocoa."

"Here, Mom," Dawn said, handing her mother the bottle of pills.

Joyce kissed her daughter's hair. "Thank you, sweetie."

Spike picked up the cup of tea and motioned towards the door. "Why don't you go sit down on the couch, Mum. 'S more comfortable there."

Joyce reluctantly agreed and let herself be guided to the living room. Dawn helped her get comfortable by arranging the pillows for her while Spike placed her teacup on the cocktail table. Then he sat back and watched the two interact; Dawn fluttering about her mother like a fledgling bird. Contentment seeped into him as he watched them, and he wondered briefly if his body had really died in that African cave and this was now his afterlife. If it was, he wasn't sure if it was heaven or hell. So far, while not all harps and flowers, he couldn't say it wasn't nice. It certainly wasn't hell. Of that he was certain. Unless unless he couldn't change the outcome and was forced to lose Joyce and Buffy all over again, doomed to constantly try to find the way to save them but never succeeding. Like Sisyphus in Hades. That would truly be Hell.

'And it would show that Satan has a bloody twisted sense of humor.'

He was dwelling on his thoughts when Buffy arrived home. She looked sore and tired, but the sight of her still warmed him and he couldn't suppress a smile. Both he and Dawn stood as she came in; Dawn to snark at her sister before running upstairs, and him to greet her.

"She's feeling a bit poorly, Slayer," he whispered when she looked askance at him. "Gave her some pills and tea, but she needs to go back to hospital. She needs that CAT scan."

Buffy looked at him, her eyes worried and tired, and nodded. He gave her a reassuring smile, then turned to Joyce.

"I'll be off, Mum. You feel better now, alright. I'll come by to check on you in a day or so."

Joyce gave him a tired smile. "Thank you, Spike."

He smiled back, nodded to Buffy, then left. He wasn't needed and he could tell from Buffy's posture that she was hiding bruises. That meant she'd probably had her first meet-n-greet with Glory and found out that Dawn was the Key. He had to get back to his crypt and plan his next move.