Nope, don't own it. Yep, I really wish I did. Especially Spike, who
doesn't want to own Spike? Here's a little proactive Dawn, let's see how
far she gets for her troubles this time. . .
.
.
.
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CHAPTER EIGHT- CRIMES AND MISDEMEANOURS
She climbed down the trellis, vaguely remembering the confused fourteen year old girl who had done the same so long ago. All that remained of the girl in Dawn was the thirst for answers, and the destination where she expected to find them.
When she was not met with one lurking vampire, as she'd half expected, she turned towards the Magic Box, moving through the night with such stealth that the shadow of a figure following her had to use all his powers to keep up. Dawn reached the store and spent a few minutes jimmying the lock, just as she'd seen done once before and was soon enough inside the building.
Making absolutely sure the blinds were shut tight against any light that could escape into the street, Dawn flicked on a lamp. The faint glow was enough to see by and she scaled the ladder to the loft where all the dangerous books and artefacts were kept with ease.
The bell on the door tinkled. Dawn whirled, already taking a fighting stance.
"Sodding bell!" Spike swore at the offending noisemaker as it went off again when he closed the door.
As soon as she saw the shock of bright blond hair and heard the distinct British accent, Dawn relaxed. Without even acknowledging Spike, she turned back to her work. Spike took his cue from Dawn, and wordlessly her joined her, scouring the books for information.
For three hours, they worked in complete silence. But then Dawn was tiring and she knew she needed to get back to the house before she was discovered. To go through every possible source of knowledge was going to take quite a few nights.
Coming to a decision, Dawn abruptly stood and made her way to the door. She waited for Spike to join her. As soon as he'd extinguished the lamp that was burning, Spike motioned that it was safe for her to open the door.
Dawn vanished into the cool night, lost to Spike's sight. He stayed inside a few moments longer, double-checking that they had left no signs of their little visit. He slipped out the door, locking it behind him, and turned into the night to find where Dawn was waiting for him.
"Nibblet!"
There she was, in the middle of the street, surrounded by fledgling vampires. Dawn had seen them coming long before the hungry pack had even known she was there. There had been plenty of time to pull her stake out of its place tucked under her belt, more than enough time to alert Spike so the pair of seasoned fighters could take the vampires before they knew what hit them. But Dawn had done neither of these things.
Instead she had felt a cold settle over and within her, her heart froze as an icy hand seemed to squeeze at the organ so hardened by her pain. Without a single intelligible thought or feeling known to her, Dawn walked out into the middle of the main street, bathed in the street lights, and waited for the vampires to spot her and advance.
Not believing their luck, the vampires didn't hesitate to proceed towards their easy meal. There were five of them, all in their game faces and circling Dawn like sharks. They seemed to have forgotten Spike for the moment, since he hadn't moved from just outside the Magic Box doorway.
He was watching Dawn ignoring the predators that were stalking closer and closer to her. She stood alone, staring up at the sky, as if she was waiting for them, daring them even, to strike. Spike knew the look in Dawn's eyes all too well, it was the death wish of a Slayer, if he had ever seen it.
Spike reached into his duster pocket and pulled out a stake, prepared to sweep into the fray in an undead heartbeat. They pack of fledglings had completely closed in on Dawn now, and one was even reaching out to grasp her neck roughly.
Dawn felt them closing in but did not stir. Her eyes were directed upwards, as if her salvation lay somewhere in the atmosphere, and the stars would spell it out to her if she just stood still long enough. Or perhaps the moon would whisper it to her... like Spike told her once that it did to Drusilla.
"Nibblet!"
She heard his voice cry out for her, but it seemed just a little too far for her to reach. And she wondered how easy would it be to just let it slip away, let it all slip away into oblivion. She could *feel* the closest vampire reach out for her neck. It would only be microseconds now...
The threatening vampire exploded into dust. The remaining four jumped back, startled. They barely had time to wonder where their meal had procured the stake resting in her hand from before they were attacked from both fronts, as Spike joined in the fun.
He staked two from behind before they could spin around to protect themselves and looked to Dawn to check on her. From his blind side, a fist came crashing into his nose and Spike was knocked off balance. He engaged in fisticuffs with the offending vampire, finally manage to gain the upper hand enough to turn his opponent into a pile of dust.
The last remaining vampire was giving Dawn a lot of trouble. She was ducking and dodging its blows, but the stake seemed a little awkward in her hand, and she couldn't mount any decent offensives. She wasted a moment longing for her old Lothlorien-crafted sword from the quest, Me'ahyanda, and a cold vampire fist connected with her jaw.
Dawn crumpled to the ground and looked up to see the vampire erupt into a pile of dust, revealing another vampire standing behind it, stake in hand. Spike glared down at Dawn, the anger and worry in his blue eyes piercing through her.
"What the bloody hell was that, Tarien?" he demanded. "Trying to get yourself killed?"
Shame swept through Dawn. "I don't know," she told Spike, her voice full of quiet contrition.
Softening towards the pathetic-looking creature, Spike held his hand out and pulled her to her feet. Wordlessly, they turned towards the Summers residence, only a short walk away.
"So, guess you're a bit out of practice." Spike, not one to sugar- coat much of anything really, referred to Dawn's lacklustre fighting skills in their mini-battle. "Lost your touch, guess you haven't had much use of a stake lately, huh pet?"
Dawn shrugged, looking off into the night. "Sword, mostly. Knife. Occasionally longbow," she told him.
"How about hand to hand?" he prodded. He hoped for both their sakes it was good for her to talk about her life in Mirkwood.
"Not really. Legolas and I wrestled every now and then, but. . ." she trailed off, more lost in her thoughts and memories than embarrassed by the implications of her words.
Spike was more than willing to finish the sentence for her. "But that little bit of rough and tumble wasn't exactly training-oriented."
"No."
Spike had hoped to draw a blush or a smile, maybe even that cute little girly giggle of old out of her with the remark, but he was disappointed with the flat response. He let it fall, resigned to a quiet walk. To his surprise, as they turned onto Revello (sp?) drive, her wearied voice cut into the silence.
"Spike? How did you know where I was and what I was doing, without my telling you?"
"I know you, don't I now Little Bit? Wouldn't take a genius to figure out what you'd be up to. Besides, vampire, innate ability to track your sweet little scent, remember?"
Silence greeted his explanation. They had reached number 1630, and Dawn went to go out the back and climb the trellis to her room. Her night of researching and generally just hanging on had left her more tired than she realised.
"Hey," Spike stopped her, a hard edge deepening his voice.
Slowly, Dawn turned to look up at him. She hardened her expression, trying desperately not to see her husband in the form before her.
Undeterred, Spike said his piece. "I don't ever, *ever* want to see you so damn close to giving up as I did tonight. You got that, Bit?"
Dawn refused to answer that. She couldn't honestly promise him anything. Instead, she just offered a quick, "Thanks, Spike," and disappeared.
* * * * * . . .. Love it or hate it, let me know what you think, all it takes is hitting that wonderful button that says review. Thanks for those of you who've supported me throughout the writing of this fic, I'm glad so many of you have faith in where I'm going and what I'm doing with these characters and I appreciate all the suggestions. I promise you won't be disappointed! ~Anoron
CHAPTER EIGHT- CRIMES AND MISDEMEANOURS
She climbed down the trellis, vaguely remembering the confused fourteen year old girl who had done the same so long ago. All that remained of the girl in Dawn was the thirst for answers, and the destination where she expected to find them.
When she was not met with one lurking vampire, as she'd half expected, she turned towards the Magic Box, moving through the night with such stealth that the shadow of a figure following her had to use all his powers to keep up. Dawn reached the store and spent a few minutes jimmying the lock, just as she'd seen done once before and was soon enough inside the building.
Making absolutely sure the blinds were shut tight against any light that could escape into the street, Dawn flicked on a lamp. The faint glow was enough to see by and she scaled the ladder to the loft where all the dangerous books and artefacts were kept with ease.
The bell on the door tinkled. Dawn whirled, already taking a fighting stance.
"Sodding bell!" Spike swore at the offending noisemaker as it went off again when he closed the door.
As soon as she saw the shock of bright blond hair and heard the distinct British accent, Dawn relaxed. Without even acknowledging Spike, she turned back to her work. Spike took his cue from Dawn, and wordlessly her joined her, scouring the books for information.
For three hours, they worked in complete silence. But then Dawn was tiring and she knew she needed to get back to the house before she was discovered. To go through every possible source of knowledge was going to take quite a few nights.
Coming to a decision, Dawn abruptly stood and made her way to the door. She waited for Spike to join her. As soon as he'd extinguished the lamp that was burning, Spike motioned that it was safe for her to open the door.
Dawn vanished into the cool night, lost to Spike's sight. He stayed inside a few moments longer, double-checking that they had left no signs of their little visit. He slipped out the door, locking it behind him, and turned into the night to find where Dawn was waiting for him.
"Nibblet!"
There she was, in the middle of the street, surrounded by fledgling vampires. Dawn had seen them coming long before the hungry pack had even known she was there. There had been plenty of time to pull her stake out of its place tucked under her belt, more than enough time to alert Spike so the pair of seasoned fighters could take the vampires before they knew what hit them. But Dawn had done neither of these things.
Instead she had felt a cold settle over and within her, her heart froze as an icy hand seemed to squeeze at the organ so hardened by her pain. Without a single intelligible thought or feeling known to her, Dawn walked out into the middle of the main street, bathed in the street lights, and waited for the vampires to spot her and advance.
Not believing their luck, the vampires didn't hesitate to proceed towards their easy meal. There were five of them, all in their game faces and circling Dawn like sharks. They seemed to have forgotten Spike for the moment, since he hadn't moved from just outside the Magic Box doorway.
He was watching Dawn ignoring the predators that were stalking closer and closer to her. She stood alone, staring up at the sky, as if she was waiting for them, daring them even, to strike. Spike knew the look in Dawn's eyes all too well, it was the death wish of a Slayer, if he had ever seen it.
Spike reached into his duster pocket and pulled out a stake, prepared to sweep into the fray in an undead heartbeat. They pack of fledglings had completely closed in on Dawn now, and one was even reaching out to grasp her neck roughly.
Dawn felt them closing in but did not stir. Her eyes were directed upwards, as if her salvation lay somewhere in the atmosphere, and the stars would spell it out to her if she just stood still long enough. Or perhaps the moon would whisper it to her... like Spike told her once that it did to Drusilla.
"Nibblet!"
She heard his voice cry out for her, but it seemed just a little too far for her to reach. And she wondered how easy would it be to just let it slip away, let it all slip away into oblivion. She could *feel* the closest vampire reach out for her neck. It would only be microseconds now...
The threatening vampire exploded into dust. The remaining four jumped back, startled. They barely had time to wonder where their meal had procured the stake resting in her hand from before they were attacked from both fronts, as Spike joined in the fun.
He staked two from behind before they could spin around to protect themselves and looked to Dawn to check on her. From his blind side, a fist came crashing into his nose and Spike was knocked off balance. He engaged in fisticuffs with the offending vampire, finally manage to gain the upper hand enough to turn his opponent into a pile of dust.
The last remaining vampire was giving Dawn a lot of trouble. She was ducking and dodging its blows, but the stake seemed a little awkward in her hand, and she couldn't mount any decent offensives. She wasted a moment longing for her old Lothlorien-crafted sword from the quest, Me'ahyanda, and a cold vampire fist connected with her jaw.
Dawn crumpled to the ground and looked up to see the vampire erupt into a pile of dust, revealing another vampire standing behind it, stake in hand. Spike glared down at Dawn, the anger and worry in his blue eyes piercing through her.
"What the bloody hell was that, Tarien?" he demanded. "Trying to get yourself killed?"
Shame swept through Dawn. "I don't know," she told Spike, her voice full of quiet contrition.
Softening towards the pathetic-looking creature, Spike held his hand out and pulled her to her feet. Wordlessly, they turned towards the Summers residence, only a short walk away.
"So, guess you're a bit out of practice." Spike, not one to sugar- coat much of anything really, referred to Dawn's lacklustre fighting skills in their mini-battle. "Lost your touch, guess you haven't had much use of a stake lately, huh pet?"
Dawn shrugged, looking off into the night. "Sword, mostly. Knife. Occasionally longbow," she told him.
"How about hand to hand?" he prodded. He hoped for both their sakes it was good for her to talk about her life in Mirkwood.
"Not really. Legolas and I wrestled every now and then, but. . ." she trailed off, more lost in her thoughts and memories than embarrassed by the implications of her words.
Spike was more than willing to finish the sentence for her. "But that little bit of rough and tumble wasn't exactly training-oriented."
"No."
Spike had hoped to draw a blush or a smile, maybe even that cute little girly giggle of old out of her with the remark, but he was disappointed with the flat response. He let it fall, resigned to a quiet walk. To his surprise, as they turned onto Revello (sp?) drive, her wearied voice cut into the silence.
"Spike? How did you know where I was and what I was doing, without my telling you?"
"I know you, don't I now Little Bit? Wouldn't take a genius to figure out what you'd be up to. Besides, vampire, innate ability to track your sweet little scent, remember?"
Silence greeted his explanation. They had reached number 1630, and Dawn went to go out the back and climb the trellis to her room. Her night of researching and generally just hanging on had left her more tired than she realised.
"Hey," Spike stopped her, a hard edge deepening his voice.
Slowly, Dawn turned to look up at him. She hardened her expression, trying desperately not to see her husband in the form before her.
Undeterred, Spike said his piece. "I don't ever, *ever* want to see you so damn close to giving up as I did tonight. You got that, Bit?"
Dawn refused to answer that. She couldn't honestly promise him anything. Instead, she just offered a quick, "Thanks, Spike," and disappeared.
* * * * * . . .. Love it or hate it, let me know what you think, all it takes is hitting that wonderful button that says review. Thanks for those of you who've supported me throughout the writing of this fic, I'm glad so many of you have faith in where I'm going and what I'm doing with these characters and I appreciate all the suggestions. I promise you won't be disappointed! ~Anoron