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The Long Long Trailer
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"Well, that wasn't so bad..." Dawn started.

"Yeah, in a way that wasn't necessarily good, either."

She and Buffy were back at the apartment they shared, packing all their new clothes into large suitcases.

"Well, neither of us were horribly embarrassed," Dawn said, folding a skirt. She saw Buffy's look. "Oh, come on. That didn't qualify as horribly. So what if everyone thinks your a skanky ho that broke up Spike and his girlfriend? It's not that bad."

"Says you." That wasn't actually what I meant... Buffy fumed for a second or two then resumed organizing her makeup for storage. "You've got room in your suitcase for the hairdryer, right?"

"Yup. As long as you're taking the curling iron and hairsprays.

"Hairsprays plural?"

"Yeah. Aussie for you, Treseme for me." Dawn disappeared into the bathroom and emerged with a white bottle. "Here."

Buffy appraised the massive mountain of beauty products assembled on the bed. "Maybe this is why we can only afford a one bedroom apartment."

"Bemoan our lack of consumer intelligence later. The bus is going to be here at any minute."

"Which is another thing that's worrying me," Buffy said, dumping all her clothes into the hanging bag and declaring war on the zipper. "Where's the bus going to park?"

Before Dawn could offer an answer, there was a honking from below. The brunette ran over to the window.

"Uh, apparently in the turning lane. Maybe we should hurry up."

As Buffy frantically yanked at the zipper, Dawn watched a small white haired figure jump out of the silver bus and run across the street to the door of their apartment building. Dawn turned back to her sister.

"Spike's wearing plaid! And he just jaywalked."

"Spike's wearing plaid?" Buffy was momentarily distracted by the image of Spike in a kilt. And maybe boots.

"Pack!"

Buffy jumped. "Right. I've almost..." She tugged again at the stubborn zipper. It refused to bow to her will. After a few moments, she looked up at the frenzied brunette. "Do you still have pliers in your makeup kit?"

There was a knock on the door. Dawn examined the room for exposed undergarments, then went to answer it.

She pulled the door open to reveal a winded Spike leaning on the jamb. His face was a bit red.

"I've gotta stop smokin," he panted. "Five flights isn't as easy as it used to be."

He was wearing a grey t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. And his boots. A statement of high fashion, it was not. But it was kinda cute. From behind her sister, Buffy stared at her slightly revised fantasy come to life.

Dawn grinned a greeting full of evil promise. "Hi, Spike. I assume you came up to help us with our luggage?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

"I did? Oh. Uh, okay." He looked around the room with interest. "I dunno if you birds realize this, but there's a bed in your living room."

Dawn ushered Spike in and closed the door behind him. "Correction: there's a kitchenette connected to our bedroom."

Spike raised his eyebrows when he realized that he had indeed stepped directly into the bedroom from the front door. "Wow, this place is a bloody shoebox. 'Ello, Buffy." He nodded a greeting to the blonde that was exherting herself against the overstuffed garment bag.

"Hi!" She bounced again on the suitcase. The zipper was halfway around now, but not making much progress past that point.

Spike crossed the room in a couple steps and sat down next to her on the bag. The zipper darted forward with a triumphant buzz. With a hoarse cry of triumph, Buffy fell back on the bed, breathing heavily.

Spike memorized the image, then helped her up. "The bus is right outside, and it's acting a bit of a traffic block, so..."

"Bon voyage are us. Let's go." Buffy hefted the gigantic suitcase, shrugging off Spike's offers of assistance, and waddled out the door.

Dawn picked up her duffel and pointed at the hanging bag. "Spike, could you get that please?" She followed Buffy.

He snagged the handle on his way to the door, and nearly fell faceforward when the bag didn't budge.

"What the bloody..."

He stared incredulously at the bag, and tried again. "Unn-uh!" What the hell do they have in this thing? He gripped the handle with both hands and leaned back on his heels. The bag slowly scooted forward.

*****

Buffy and Dawn waited for a break for traffic and dashed across the street to the bus parked in the middle lane.

Dawn popped the door and held it open while Buffy pulled her suitcase up the narrow stairs, one heroic tug at a time. Just before she reached the top, two hands reached around and grabbed it for her.

"I'll get it. Little girl like you, you're gonna sprain somethin', right enough." Buffy sighed in relief when the bag was taken away.

"Thank you so m--." She looked up to see the back of a brown-haired guy in black jeans disappear down the narrow center aisle of the bus. Dawn pulled the door shut and stepped over Buffy on her way up the stairs.

"Wow, this is really cool!" She walked further in, looking around. "Buffy, it's got a little coffee maker and everything!"

Buffy pulled herself off the stairs to follow Dawn. Where's Spike? The door opened again, and Spike heaved the garment bag onto the first step.

"A little. Help!"

The brunette man ran by Buffy and Dawn and grabbed one side of the bag. Together, he and Spike hauled it up onto the carpet. Spike collapsed onto the couch that stretched along the right side of the front room.

"Thanks, Caleb," he panted.

"You really should quit smokin'," Caleb offered. "Those are the devil's work."

"Yeah yeah. Ladies," Spike gestured. "This is Mr. Caleb Frist, our bus driver and resident Voice of God. Caleb, these are the Summers sisters, Buffy and Dawn."

"Nice to meet you."

"Hi."

"Hello," Caleb said, a touch stiffly. Spike rolled his eyes and stood up. "Caleb, why don't you get us out of the middle of the road, and I'll show the girls the clubhouse."

"Right." Caleb loped back to the front and hopped into the driver's seat.

"Don't worry about him," Spike murmered. "His Church is a little weird about women. He'll be fine once he figures out for himself that you aren't whores leading us into sin."

There was a beat.

"Oh. Okay," Buffy said. "That's .good."

They all stumbled a bit when the bus started up, but quickly regained thier balance. ...mostly.

"So," Spike said, louder. "This is the front part of the bus, which we affectionately call 'the front part 'o the bus.'" He pointed. "You've got your sofa," he pointed to the other side, at a resturaunt-style booth with no skid placemats and cup holders set into the surface, "your dinner table," he pointed up at the partition that served as the back wall of the driver's area, where a reasonably sized tv was angled towards the room, "and your telly. There's a satellite up on the roof. It loses signal a bit when we're movin', but it works just dandy at the venues. So that's the living room."

He walked three steps.

"This," he said, sweeping his arms as much as he could without hitting anything, "is the kitchen. There's spoons an' whatnot in these drawers down 'ere and bowls in the cabinets. This is your oven," he tapped the front of the microwave, and turned around behind him, "and this is your icebox." He opened a woodpaneled door to reveal a small, mostly empty refrigerator.

"Aww," Buffy cooed. "It's so cute!"

Spike blinked at her, and looked back at the fridge.

"Uh .yeah. Okay. This," he continued quickly, spinning again, "is the larder." He opened a full-length cabinet and pulled the handle revealed behind the door. A row of shelves rolled out on coasters. It was filled with chips, packets of beef jerky, salsa jars, several varieties of peanut butter, and three different cereals with marshmallows in.

The diet-conscious women stared in horror.

"So," Dawn said, surveying the assembled junk food. Pork rinds. They have pork rinds. "This is what we'll be eating on the road?"

Spike grinned with little boy glee. "Great, innit? Caleb stocks up for us before he picks us up, but all the buses are gonna meet at a grocery before we actually get going, so if there's any thing else you want," he said this like he couldn't imagine anyone possibly want anything beyond the arrayed foodstuffs, "you'll have a chance to pick it up."

He sidestepped a couple feet and pulled open another door to reveal a tiny little--

"Water closet. Lit'rally." The two women peered around him into the itty bitty room.

"Aw," Dawn cooed. "It's so--" she stopped at Spike's look, "--cool."

"Yeah, right," he said. "Two important things about the toilet. No shit, and no paper. That's what the little wastebasket's for.

"Shit?" Buffy blurted before she could stop herself.

"No. Toilet paper. The shit'll have to wait for pit stops. All clear?"

The two nodded solomnly.

"Good."

He turned around with a 'follow me gesture' and led them deeper into the bowels of the bus. The aisle got a bit narrower, edged by three curtained bunks on each side, floor to ceiling.

"This is the livin' quarters--" He cut off when the bus suddenly turned, and they had to grip the sides of the bunks to keep from losing ther balances.

"I can't imagine sleeping on a moving bus," Buffy said, cautiously letting go and bracing her feet apart. "I'd fall out and break my hip."

"Actually, I find it rather soothing. Like a rocking cradle," Spike said.

Just then there was a lurch in the road, and he had to grab Dawn to keep her from falling on her face. Buffy cocked an eyebrow at him.

"...er, yeah," he said, righting Dawn. "Sometimes 're more soothing than others. Lucky for you two, there are two empty beds. One here," he kicked the bottom bunk to his right, "and one here." He patted the top bunk on his left.

"They all look pretty empty to me," Buffy said.

"Well, I meant unclaimed. We've all got our regular bunks. You'll have to pick from these two."

"Which one's better?" Dawn asked.

Spike shrugged. "Well, bottom gets the most jostlin' when we're on the move. Top gets lots of sky noise; airplanes and such."

Dawn and Buffy looked at each other.

"Which one was Parker's?" Buffy asked.

Spike pointed to the bottom one.

Buffy grabbed the edge of the top bunk. "I call this one."

Dawn pouted, but tossed her duffle into the lower bunk. "I'm gonna go watch the world go by," she said, and retreated to the front of the bus.

Spike furrowed his brow at the girl's abrupt departure and looked at Buffy.

"She gets a little grumpy when she doesn't get her way," Buffy explained nervously. Inside, she was near panic. I am alone with Spike. "We were talking earlier about what a total man-slut Parker was." And I am surrounded by beds.
Spike waved a reassuring hand. I am alone with Buffy. "Caleb disenfected all the sheets." And I am surrounded by beds.

I wanna lead him into sin. "Well, that's something."

God help me.
*******

The Long Long Trailer is the title of an old Lucille Ball / Dezi Arnez film. It's not very good, but it's classic Lucy, if you're into that kind of thing. It also has absolutely nothing to do with this chapter.

~Star Mouse