For the next couple of days, Spike sulked in his crypt. He'd gone out only once during his fit of pique, and that had been to assist Buffy with a vampire. He remembered helping her from before, remembered taunting her about her looks and her inability to keep a man, but this time, he was oddly quiet. He saw the vamp slam her backwards and moved in for the kill. He dusted it and stepped back, waiting for Buffy to yell at him for getting in her way, but she hadn't. They made pleasantries, just as they had the night Olaf was in the Bronze. He asked about her mother and she replied that Joyce was recovering, but that the house was a mess.
She then complained about her classes and the cutting remarks a professor had made. He had listened and confirmed her belief that Rasputin was indeed a demon. Her smile had warmed him, and he wondered if she really didn't know how intelligent she was. He knew she hated school, that studying was a hardship for her, but he also knew that she had done fairly well on her SAT scores.
Buffy was far from stupid, but like so many young people in the modern times, the antiquated teaching methods of the schools failed to create an environment that made learning interesting for her. Without her mind engaged and interested, she simply didn't apply herself. Instead, she allowed her low grade point average to convince her that she was dumb, and accepted the common belief that she was not fit for higher education. He wondered how she would do in a small, personalized situation, where her quick mind was fed all the right things. He had no doubt that she'd surprise everyone, herself most of all.
Their little non-violent interaction had been pleasant, and he had returned to his crypt a little lighter hearted than he had been before. It wore off in a few hours, though, when he was left alone with his memories and nightmares and the firm belief that nothing he could do would make any difference. It wasn't enough to make him give up, however, and he did tidy up his crypt in anticipation of the Council of Wankers barging in to interview him.
They showed up right on time, crossbow and crucifix in hand, to ask him questions about Buffy and her work. Souled, but still prone to impatience with obvious hubris, he played with them a bit, feeding them stories of his and Buffy's adventures and flirting with the young woman. It had been fun to yank them around, and he'd actually felt quite a bit better after they'd gone. Part of this was because he knew he had helped Buffy a great deal in making her look like Super Slayer in the eyes of the Council, and the other part was his evil smugness in knowing he was light years ahead of them in knowing what was going on with Glory, the Hell Bitch.
After they left, he aired out the place to get rid of the smell of Stuffed Shirt, and tidied up some more because he knew Buffy would be bringing Joyce and Dawn over for him to watch and protect. Then he settled in to take a nap. He knew Buffy would wake him when she brought her mother and sister over, and he didn't want it to look like he had been expecting company.
She woke him up a few hours later by slamming the door and shining sunlight on him. He leapt up, startled, ready to fight, then relaxed when he saw her.
"Oh, it's the Slayer," he commented, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "For a second there, I was worried."
He nodded his head towards Joyce and Dawn who were standing behind Buffy, looking rather uncertain.
"What's with the family outing?" he asked.
Buffy came close and he focused on her. She looked worn and frightened, and he once again fought the urge to reach out. He almost choked on it, that and the knowledge that she saw him as nothing more than a monster to be used and discarded at her convenience.
"I need your help," she said earnestly.
He'd snarked at her before, demanding cash, but this time, he softened and leaned close.
"What is it? Is there danger?"
The look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know about her surprise and her gratitude.
'See, there's a man in this monster. A man who loves you and will do anything for you. Can you bring yourself to see him, Buffy?'
"You have to look after them," she said in a serious voice.
He pretended to be affronted. It was no good to be too helpful. Being too helpful usually earned him a few bruises.
"Whoa. That's a boatload of manly responsibility to come out of nowhere. What's the matter, Slayer? Not feeling a hundred percent?"
She shook her head and crinkled her nose. "No, I…"
He decided to tease her a bit. It would make her feel better if he acted 'normal.'
"They didn't put a chip in your head, did they?
"No..."
"Be funny if they did," he said, licking his teeth and smirking.
She lost patience and frowned. "I need an answer. Now. In or out, Spike?" At his pensive look, she added quietly, "You're... the only one strong enough to protect them."
'No, I'm not. I'm a colossal failure at it, but I swear this time around, I'll do better.'
He gave her a tender smile, confirming her belief that preying on his male ego had convinced him to help her, when just the opposite was true.
"All right then," he agreed, then turned to Joyce and Dawn. "Ladies, come on in. Plenty of blood in the fridge."
"You mean like, real blood?" Dawn asked, taking a few tentative steps forward.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "What do you think?"
She crinkled her nose in distaste just the way Buffy did when she was squeamish. "Mostly I think: eww."
"Mom, keep Dawn here as long as you can. I'll be back soon as I can," Buffy told her mother then turned to Spike. "I know I don't have to tell you this, but..."
He smirked and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah... anything happens to them, I'll stake you good and proper. Sing me a new one sometime, eh pet? That bit's gone stale."
She looked as if she was going to retort something then decided against it. Shaking her head and giving her mother one last reassuring glace, she hurried out. Spike looked at his remaining two reluctant guests as they cast concerned glances around the room. Poor Joyce looked about as out of place as a skinhead at a Mormon Convention.
"I love what you've neglected to do with the place," Joyce finally offered nervously.
He smiled and welcomed them in, going to the beat-up television, knowing that Joyce liked Passions as much as he did, and moving to turn the TV on.
"Just don't break anything and don't make a lot of noise - Passions is coming on," he said.
That got Joyce's attention as he knew it would, and she came forward to sit on the old chair in front of the television.
"Passions? Oh, do you think Timmy's really dead?"
He sat next to her on the arm of the chair. "Oh no, she can just sew him back together. He's a doll for God's sake."
"What about the wedding? There's no way they're going through with that."
He smiled to himself, happy to have them there if only for a short while. He was aware of Dawn's impatience with their preoccupation with soap operas, but he left her be to do her school work as he and Joyce sat by the dim glow of the television.
Two hours later, Joyce was asleep in the chair, Spike's tattered blanket tucked around her shoulders, while he and Dawn played cards for snack mix on the other side of the crypt.
"Gin!" Dawn exclaimed quietly and Spike scowled.
"Oi! Nibblet. You got me again," he groused as she dumped the 'stakes' bowl of snack mix into her own 'winnings' bowl.
She laughed, giving him a coy look. She'd been flirting with him ever since her mother had fallen asleep and he'd turned his attention to the bored teenager.
"You're not letting me win, are you?" she asked shyly.
"Don't have to, Bit, you're a natural. 'Sides, you think I like losing all of my Chex Mix to you? Stuff's expensive you know."
"I think it's funny that a vampire has real food. I mean, what do you do with it?"
"Eat it, of course."
"But don't vampires eat blood?"
"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy other stuff."
Dawn shrugged as she shuffled the cards. "Angel never ate any human food."
He took the cards from her and shuffled them himself. "Yeah, well, Angel's a wanker."
She giggled and watched as he dealt another hand. Each then looked at their cards and placed their wagers in the 'stakes' bowl.
"This is fun," she said after a short while as they played. "And you're really good at it."
"Yeah, well, you grow up in a time without television or radios, gotta do somethin' ta pass the time. Cards, board games, readin.' Made the nights go faster."
"I always thought that was why Victorians had such big families," she joked with a grin.
He smirked and shook his head. "Not goin' there with you, Sweet Bit. Sexual relations and the Victorian era were not compatible in any way."
She leaned close and whispered in a conspiring tone, "I once looked up a book in the library called My Secret Life. I snuck it out of the adults section. There were four volumes of this guy talking about his sex life in Victorian England. He'd go to whore houses to have sex because his wife wasn't supposed to enjoy having sex with him."
He leaned back and lit a cigarette. "Yeah, that'd be about right. That whole 'wifely duty' thing…" He stopped himself and gave her a piercing glance. "And did I not say that I was not discussing this with you, young lady?"
She laughed, her eyes dancing. "So, what did you do on those cold Victorian nights?"
He took a drag from his cigarette. "If you tell anyone this, I *will* find a way to kill you, understand?"
Her eyes widened a little, but she leaned close expectantly.
"I was a proper English gentleman. I never even thought dirty thoughts."
She giggled. "You?"
"I was. And I played cards and board games with my mum and little sis on those cold Victorian nights."
She blinked at his words. "You had a little sister?"
He nodded even as his heart sank. He hadn't wanted to speak of his family but she'd gotten him into it.
'Sneaky little chit.'
Closing his eyes and crushing out his cigarette on the stone crypt floor. "I did."
He hoped that she would now let it go, but she was like a pit bull with a bone.
"What was she like? What was her name?"
He sighed, calling up his sister's sweet face from memory. They had the same blue eyes, same nose and the same wavy, sandy brown hair.
"Anne. Her name was Anne and she was a lot like you."
"She was?"
He smiled, remembering Anne's laughter, and took a sip from the beer he'd been nursing for the past half hour. "Yeah. She was smart and pretty, like you, Bit, and she had a habit of asking the wrong questions at the wrong times. Two peas in a pod, we were. I adored her and she adored me."
"Did you kill her?" Dawn asked suddenly.
He choked and spit his mouthful of beer all over the floor, startling Dawn and making her scramble backwards.
"Wh…what?" he gasped, staring at her in horror and wiping his mouth.
She looked guilty and ashamed. "Buffy… Buffy always said that when you become a vampire you go back and kill your family."
"Did she now?" he snapped, making Dawn flinch. "I wonder where she got that idea."
"I… I don't know."
"Now you listen, missy, and you listen good. Just because darling Angelus got a hankerin' to massacre his folks, does not mean all of us go out and eat the ones who raised us after gettin' turned," he snarled.
"O…okay…"
"Angelus hated his father and from what I've heard the feelin' was mutual. He was a womanizing drunkard who would have died from the clap sooner or later," he continued, ignoring how he was scaring Dawn. "He was a bastard in life and he was an even bigger bastard in unlife. His Brooding Soulness would like you to believe that all us vamps are just like him, but the truth of it is, he was the worst of the lot. Not even Darla, depraved bitch that she was, would do some of the things her precious Childe did without a blink."
He paused, clenching his fists, not registering that Dawn had pressed herself against the crypt wall because he'd shifted into gameface.
"What… what he did to Dru. Drivin' her mad, killin' her family and makin' her think The Sight was a curse from the devil… That… that was *evil.* At least when I went huntin', I killed 'em quick. Even the ones I did with the railroad spike. Once I got 'round ta doin' it, I slammed it through right quick. Done. Gone. No messin' around. I got 'em, let 'em know who I was, let 'em know that I was the one who they'd humiliated and abused, and rammed the spike though their heads. They'd never make fun of me again, blighters."
He came out of his rant to finally see Dawn cowering away from him, and realized that he had been scaring her. Touching his forehead, he felt the demon ridges, and forced himself to shift back to human face.
"Sorry about that, Bit. I pop off sometimes. Especially when I have to deal with anything havin' ta do with Angelus."
Seeing his human face again made her relax a little and she offered him an apologetic smile. "You don't like him much."
He lit another cigarette. "Who? The Grand Poof? Hate his guts. Got all souled after eatin' that gypsy girl, and abandoned me and Dru. Dru cried for weeks. I couldn't console her. She nearly got us killed dozens of times with her wailin' and sloppy kills. Then he's here in SunnyHell when I bring Dru here to get well after that mob in Prague almost killed her. Bein' all heroic-like and workin' against us, helpin' the Slayer. Goes and gets himself a Happy and turns all evil bastard on us again. Takes Dru from me. Tries to destroy the bloody world. Got lots of reasons to hate the wanker."
"He's all depresso boy and his hair sticks up," she added.
He took a drag from his cigarette. "He's a Poof, what do ya expect? Pillock's in love with his hair gel."
Dawn giggled and uncurled, then she gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry I made you mad."
"Don't worry about it, Sweet Bit. You didn't know any better. And to answer your question, no I did not kill Anne. Anne died of consumption at the tender age of fourteen, leaving me as Mother's only surviving child," he answered calmly.
"What happened to her after you… you know… died?"
He looked down sadly, remembering. "It broke her heart. I wanted to see her, let her know I wasn't really gone, but it was too dangerous. Even then I knew Angelus would kill her if he knew where she was."
"You protected her."
He nodded. "Worked with a barrister behind the scenes. Got it arranged for her to go live with her sister in Yorkshire. I was there the night she left on the evening train. She didn't see me. It was the last time I saw her. She died six years later. We didn't live long in those days."
"At least she died safe," Dawn said, and he turned to see that she'd crawled up next to him and was at his shoulder.
"Suppose so," he answered, not entirely comfortable with her closeness.
"You know what I think? I think Anne was very lucky to have a brother like you," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "At least she knew you loved her. It's more than what I have."
His head whipped around to her. "What do you mean?"
Dawn swallowed. "Remember when I asked you if I was real? When I told you that two crazy guys said I wasn't really here?"
He creased his brow and nodded.
"Well, it happened again, only this time it was Mom who said it. She called me a thing. Told me to get away from her."
"When was this?"
"When she was in the hospital, and the night she came home and that icky space bug attacked us."
"Oh, Bit, she wasn't in her right mind. You can't take anything she said seriously," he comforted.
Dawn shook her head. "There's more. Giles, Mom and Buffy, they talk about me when they think I can't hear. There's something going on that they don't want me to know about. I think it has something to do with that demon Glory, the one who came to the house today."
"Glory came to your house?" he blurted. He'd never known the exact reason why Buffy had brought Joyce and Dawn to him that afternoon. Now he knew and he was shocked by Buffy's show of faith.
She nodded. "Yeah. She was in the living room. She threatened Buffy. That's when Buffy brought Mom and me here."
"Big Sis's puttin' a lot of faith in one vamp."
Dawn shrugged. "She knew we'd be safe here. Glory doesn't know about you, and she'd never think that Buffy would take us to a vampire for protection."
Spike considered that and had to agree.
"Glory's looking for a key. She thinks Buffy has it. She wanted to know if I knew where it was. Do you know what Glory is looking for, Spike?"
He knew he couldn't lie but he also couldn't tell her the truth, so he hedged instead. "Got an inkling, but I'm not exactly part of the Scoobie inner sanctum. They don't really keep me in the loop. I know it's important, and that Glory can't ever get her hands on it."
"But what does that have to do with me?" she asked earnestly, and the look on her face nearly broke his heart.
"I'm sure that whatever it is, they're just tryin' to keep you safe," he told her honestly, then motioned to the forgotten cards. "Now come on. It's your turn to draw. Gotta win back my Chex Mix, ya know."
Dawn gave him a little smile and moved to pick up her hand. He picked up his and looked at them, reminding himself of the hand he had been drawn, but his mind was elsewhere. Her words bothered him because he knew that she was figuring out things for herself, and he remembered how well her discovery that *she* was the Key had gone last time. Rearranging his hand into a more logical pattern, he added convincing Giles to tell Dawn she was the Key to his list of Things-To-Do.
'Pillocks better tell her before she finds out about it herself,' he thought, taking a card from the pile and discarding another.
Dawn snatched it up with a triumphant grin and slapped down her cards. "Gin!"
He sighed and rolled his eyes as she took her winnings.
'Bint better get back here 'fore little sis cleans me out of Chex Mix.'