******
Buffy and Dawn eventually quieted down enough to allow Spike to drift off to sleep again. He was so wiped out after his difficult day with Dawn that he didn't think he could have stayed awake if he tried. Not surprisingly, his dreams were unpleasant. Spike wasn't sure which one was worse; the one where he was stuck in a neverending spin cycle, or the one where Dawn crammed him inside the oven and cranked up the heat.
Some hours later, he awoke again when gentle hands picked him up. It was Buffy, who moved him downstairs to the sofa. She pointedly sat right beside him, while Dawn was banished to a large armchair. The tension between the sisters had lessened considerably. It seemed that it was a special movie night and they weren't going to skip their routine just because Dawn had misbehaved. Buffy had brought home an English-language rental version of "Gladiator" and soon she and her sister were absorbed in the film. Spike was somewhat less interested, besides still being tired. After the first 15 minutes, he fell into a doze that lasted until the doorbell rang.
Dawn hit the stop button on the remote control and checked her watch. "It's pretty late for someone to be coming over. Maybe it's one of your students, Buffy?"
'Students?' thought Spike. Had Buffy become some sort of teacher, or perhaps gone back to being a guidance counselor?
He waited to find out as Buffy went to the door. From where he sat, his view was blocked, but he clearly heard her greeting. "Angel! What are you doing here?"
'Angel?' Spike almost shot out of his skin at the realization that his grandsire was darkening Buffy's doorstep.
Dawn scampered over to the door to look. "It really *is* you!"
Alone on the couch, Spike was thinking frantically and blaming himself for being caught in this awkward situation. He'd known from the beginning that Angel could easily uncover his movements and determine his whereabouts by watching the Wolfram & Hart security tapes, but he hadn't counted on it happening this soon. It had, though, and now Angel was on the verge of ruining all of his plans. Should he run for it while he had the chance? If he jumped out the window and fled, maybe Buffy wouldn't be able to track him down and kill him. Of course, that outcome was highly doubtful. With his short legs, he couldn't build up to any sort of speed. By the time he got two houses away, Buffy would be upon him. She would also be that much angrier because of having to chase him down. On the other hand, if he stayed where he was and threw himself on her mercy, she might spare him. Maybe.
Right, then, Spike decided, he wasn't going to run. He was going to stick it out and take whatever was coming to him. He just hoped he was choosing the best option. Having made up his mind, he tuned back in to the conversation taking place at the front door.
"We need to talk Buffy," Angel was saying. "This is serious."
"What is it?" Buffy asked.
"Do I have an invitation inside?" Angel pressed. "Look, I know you don't like the fact that I'm working at Wolfram & Hart now. Andrew said as much. But I haven't turned evil and I need to tell you something important."
After a pause, Buffy said, "All right. Come in, Angel."
"Thank you." He stepped inside. The next thing Spike heard was Angel saying, "Where is he?"
"Who?" came Dawn's confused voice.
Angel moved forward into the living room, spotted Spike on the couch, and opened his mouth. Then he closed it. It must have struck him that Spike was unnaturally still.
"Angel, why are you here?" Buffy said with an edge of impatience to her tone.
Angel ignored her. He was totally focused on Spike as he walked toward the sofa.
"Look what Buffy got as a gift," Dawn chimed in. "Isn't he adorable?"
"I can think of another word for it." Angel paced a little closer.
Spike continued to hold his position, praying Angel would take the hint and not give him away. He didn't want to be found out, and it was in Angel's best interests to help him maintain his cover.
"Angel," Buffy said warningly.
"What? Oh, yeah." He turned so he was looking at her but able to keep the puppet in his range of vision. "Why I came here. I, um, I'm afraid I have bad news. About Cordelia. She never came out of her coma and she died."
Spike had to hand it to Angel; he'd come up with a decent cover story on the spur of the moment. After all, it was the truth, and Dawn and Buffy didn't know--yet, anyway--that Cordelia had actually been dead for weeks. He watched as they awkwardly hugged Angel and offered words of sympathy.
"So, you came all the way over here to tell us in person," Buffy mused. "Obviously you flew?"
Angel nodded. "My first time on a plane. It was a special high-speed jet with protective glass in all the windows so I was perfectly safe."
"You and Cordy got pretty close while you were working together, huh?" Dawn probed.
"Yeah," Angel said shortly, paying more attention to Spike than to the conversation.
"Can we get you anything?" Buffy asked. "Um, there's no blood in the house, but maybe..."
"Coffee. Coffee would be great." Buffy looked puzzled by this particular request but shrugged and headed for the kitchen. Dawn did not. Angel turned to her. "Dawn, can you get me a sandwich? Any kind. Take your time."
"Oh. Sure."
As she followed Buffy away, Spike could tell from the expression on her face that she was wondering when Angel had started eating sandwiches, or pretty much any human food at all. He didn't have much time to analyze Dawn's likely thoughts, though, as Angel advanced upon him.
He stopped in front of Spike, towering over him. "Hello, Spike. You're going to regret the day you came here."
TBC