It had taken eight weeks, but this was the last of them. Finally.
Spike had never been so bored in his entire life. After Dumbledore had privately asked him (with Giles' help) to stock Hogwarts with strategically hidden caches of weapons, it had taken a month find the right hiding spots. Then another month to lay out the proper sets of weapons, working the whole time at night and in darkness. And alone.
Besides the rescue of that Potter kid and the sparring with Grey, which he managed to fit in twice a week for a month now, the vampire had no opportunity to blow off steam. He even found it hard to keep current with Willow's progress, though she seemed to be handling the magic without any unfortunate change in eye color. Grey had told him about the two wands, and he reckoned that she had made a good choice. Dark and heavy wood tended to promote dark and heavy magic.
With the last stash in place, Spike settled down against a tree trunk at the edge of the Dark Forest and pulled out Dawn's latest letter. The owl had dropped it for him two nights back; he hoped the nibblet wasn't angry about the wait. He lit a cigarette and unfolded the notebook paper.
Spike,
So you still haven't told me what it is you're doing. Willow says she never sees you around. We're dying to know (not in the Sunnydale sense of the word, and actually, we is sort of I).
You said this guy Grey 'can fight something fierce.' Sounds like somebody's outclassed. Just kidding. What's the deal with him and Willow? She mentions him in every letter. Buffy thinks she totally crushing. But she's gay, right? How can that happen?
Life here is never dull, but it is a little slow. Xander still isn't dating (not that you care); Anya is a vengeance demon again, like I told you. We don't see her, really, though she's still hanging around. Last week she turned this lady's boyfriend into a giant worm and he ate the woman's dog. I felt bad, but Buffy seemed like she was going to laugh.
Buffy's okay, which is I know what you want to know. She isn't dating either. I think she does miss you and won't admit it. I, on the other hand, have an ice cream date with a super-hottie named Jon on Saturday. It's in the afternoon, so definitely no vamp-kissage this time. I promise I'll be good; maybe it'll work out and you can threaten him when you get home. Just kidding. You better not.
Anyways, I have to go. Bed, then school. Write back soon. © Dawn
Spike laughed. Nothing like Sunnydale gossip to cheer him up. The picture of Chubs and the Slayer chasing a giant worm … bloody fantastic. He sighed, thinking how much he missed Dawn, and how glad he was that Giles had shown her the owlery in Sunnydale.
"Some Big Bad," he muttered. "Missing the Slayer's kid sister." And the Slayer, he added silently. He and Buffy had unfinished business, but not the kind he would try and resolve at a distance. Next year, when he went back, they would have a talk. He took a deep drag on the cigarette and pulled out his notepad.
Bit,
Got your letter. Sorry for the delay. As for what I'm doing, I'm up to my duster in work, and I'm not much for socializing during the day. Dumbledore, the headmaster, has me stocking the place up with a few nasty tricks in case the baddies come calling. Don't tell anyone, though, especially Willow. It's supposed to be secret. Damned if I know why. It's not like anyone would ever find all the damned things anyway.
Glad to hear Chubs is still miserably single. Must have been a sluggoth demon – those things are ugly and stupid. I'm with the Slayer, though. The dog getting eaten is damn hilarious. Wish I'd been there for that.
This bloke Jon better behave himself, or I'll be back early to do the bodily harm. Shouldn't Buffy be doing a better job protecting your virtue?
Have a good time. Be careful.
As for Willow, it's true I don't see her much. When I do, she's usually with the Boy Hero. They've gotten real friendly. I think she wants some but won't admit it to herself. He's not much for the talking, so who knows what he's thinking. Like a stone, that one. As for her being gay, well, sometimes it's about the person, pet, not the pieces.
But that's it. You'll get no more gossip from the Big Bad.
I'm off to have a pint with Hagrid. He's a right good fellow, lives a stone's throw from the castle. Stay out of trouble. Spike