Chapter Eighteen: Slayer to Watcher

Breaking the news to the rest of the Scoobies went fairly well. Everyone was so numb already that it barely made a blip on the radar. It was yet just another piece in the great puzzle that was life in Sunnydale.

There was still no word on why Spike had come back from the dead - the undead - however. They were still working on it.

Desperate for a moment to herself, Dawn snuck away from the group research session going on in the living room, and made her way upstairs. The hall was dark and quiet. She wanted to go to her room, put on some music, and lose herself in the moment, but she couldn't. Something else got her attention.

The door to Buffy's room was open, which seemed odd. Dawn knew Spike had gone up hours ago to be alone. She wondered if perhaps he had snuck away himself, and ran off into the approaching dark.

Reaching the door with great stealth, she peaked inside. She let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, when she saw Spike standing in front of the window. It was dark, but his silhouette was unmistakable. He was staring out into the twilight, oblivious to her presence.

Dawn decide to break the ice. "So is it just being a Watcher that you hate, or is it personal?"

Spike jumped, visually startled. He turned slowly to look at her. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't really know," she said honestly. She flipped the light switch on the wall and closed the door halfway behind her, as she entered the room.

Spike flinched as the lights came on. Then he turned back toward the window. "Why don't you go then?"

"I don't know." She moved over to Buffy's bed and sat down on the end, nervously swinging her legs. "So is it personal?"

"What?" He turned in surprise.

"Is it because it's me? Is that why you don't want to be my Watcher?"

"Dawn," he searched her eyes with vague disbelief, "it has nothing to do with you. I am not a Watcher. That's just the way it is."

"Oh really? 'Cause Giles says you are."

"I don't give a bloody . . . I don't care what Giles says. It isn't true and it isn't going to happen!"

She disregarded his rant. "Do you think that's why you were brought back?"

"No. Of course not," he protested vehemently. "Because I am not, I repeat, not your Watcher." He crossed his arms over his chest angrily and turned back toward the window.

"You're not the only one who's been chosen, you know?" she said, her voice oddly quiet. "It's not easy for me either."

Spike turned to look at her again. She looked so helpless, so pathetically sweet and helpless. He really was a selfish bastard, wasn't he? He obviously wasn't the only one having a difficult time with this.

Spike crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside her, leaving enough room between them to fit two people. He watched warily, uncertain of what to do. Helplessly at a loss, he raised his left hand and patted her shoulder reassuringly. At least, he hoped it was reassuringly.

Dawn turned her head and offered him a small smile.

He dropped his hand to his lap. "It's not that bad really. Big sis has been doing it for years. You'll be okay."

"Without a Watcher?"

"You've got Giles."

"No, I don't. Spike look," she said, turning her body toward him, "I know this is probably the worst news you could have ever gotten, but it's not the end of the world."

"Right." He pushed himself up from the bed and walked over to the dresser, absently fiddling with the mess Buffy had left there.

The idea that he was Dawn's Watcher was ludicrous to him. Beyond the realm of possibility. And yet, Giles seemed to think he had proof. Spike hated the idea. Poncey Watchers, with their suits and ties and their snooty, holier-than-thou attitudes! Spike had thought he'd left that life far behind him, the night he had died, the night he had been turned. Now he was being asked to become another bloody Giles! Bollocks! He wouldn't do it. Not even for Dawn.

"I wish I were dead," he mumbled to himself.

"I know." She shook her head in slight irritation. Dawn got up and crossed over to him, stopping a few feet away. "Spike, you have to stop feeling sorry for yourself. I can't really believe I'm saying this - after everything that's happened, after the way things have been between us this past year - but you deserve this. You deserve your humanity, and you deserve to be with Buffy and have a normal life. I know you see it as a curse, but come on, do you know how many people would kill to be so blessed? Man and demon alike?"

"Right."

"It's true. Don't you see it? Buffy needs you Spike. You're everything to her. And now, now finally, you can give her everything she's always wanted. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Spike turned his bowed head to the side and stared at her with narrowed eyes. "And how exactly can I do that?"

"Oh please! Don't tell me you haven't thought about it? A normal life? Marriage? Children? The whole thing. Everything Buffy's always wanted, but thought she could never have because she's the Slayer. Angel could never give her those things. Riley wanted to, but Buffy needed something more than just All-American GI Joe by her side. She needs you Spike. You're the only one who can give Buffy what she truly needs. With you, she can be the Slayer and a normal girl, all at the same time. There's still enough demon in there somewhere to satisfy her. To protect her. And to make you her equal in battle. So, you don't have superhuman strength anymore. So what? You've got a hundred and twenty-three years of experience as a warrior behind you. And if you think that counts for nothing, you're crazy."

Spike turned away and let her little speech tumble through his brain. She was right, of course. Damn know-it-all Bitty Buffy. He had spent so much time lately feeling sorry for himself, selfishly worrying about his own place in the world, he hadn't even taken the time to think about what this really meant for Buffy.

Marriage? Children? An involuntary shudder coursed through Spike at the thought. What would their children be like? Superhuman beings with a penchant for bloodlust? No. They'd be more than that. Better than that. Anything that was a part of Buffy would be worth having in this world. Could he really give her children? Would she really want that? The thought astounded him.

"Hasn't it even occurred to you what all of this means?" Dawn added, taking a determined step closer. "You do realize that now, Buffy isn't going to grow old without you? You'll grow old together. You won't have to sit back and watch her die, leave you behind. Is that what you really wanted? Because that's what was waiting for you as a vampire. That's the great gift you had to look forward to." Her voice softened a little. "Now, you can give Buffy a gift. The greatest gift of her life Spike. You just have to stop being so selfish."

Spike raised his eyes and gave her a sidelong glance. Damn it, she was right. Again! Was she ever going to let up?

"So, are you through feeling sorry for yourself?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him a determined look.

"Do I have much choice?" he asked, eyeing her again.

"Not really, no."

Spike shook his head and cursed under his breath, "Damn, bloody Slayers."

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he said, picking up his head and turning toward her. "So, do we go tell Buffy that everything's just hearts and flowers now?" He turned toward the door.

"Spike."

Her voice stopped him. He turned to face her.

"Look," she said, "I know you hate this, but it just goes with the territory. If you're going to stay with Buffy anyway, you might as well act as Watcher. I mean really, it's either that, or let Giles come live with us permanently." She smiled.

He gave her a dark look.

"Didn't think so. So? Watcher?" she asked, raising her eyebrows hopefully.

Spike scowled. Why did she have to look so hopeful? Why did she have to look at him like that, with those huge brown eyes? She wanted him to be her Watcher. She trusted him and needed him. How could he refuse her? His lil' bit.

Spike sighed. What choice did he really have, anyway? If he was going to stay with Buffy - and apparently he was - then what possible excuse could he have for getting out of it? He didn't have to become neo-Giles. He wouldn't become neo-Giles. With the Council gone, he'd get to make his own rules. Change everything it meant to be a Watcher. Screw the bloody Council!

"Watcher," Spike mumbled, barely audibly.

"What was that?"

"I said 'Watcher,'" he answered, his words unmistakable this time. "I will be your soddin' Watcher, all right." He took a determined step closer to her. "But if you give me any hell like your sister gave dear old Uncle Rupert, I will take you over my knee and show you just what my ordinary human strength can do. You got that?"

"Yeah Spike," she said smiling. "I got that." She raised up on her toes and kissed him quickly on the cheek. A second later she was standing in the doorway on her way out into the hall. "See you downstairs," she said, as she turned and left the room.