Truth Keeper

A/N – It has literally been forever – I have been so busy that although I have been aware that this fiction has yet to be completed, I haven't had time until this month to write again. I apologize for the time it has taken, and I will be shocked if anyone even remembers this fic. So here's the next chapter – enjoy and let me know what you think.

Chapter 21 - Three Square Meals

Breakfast

Dawn poked her fork into a piece of fruit and rolled her eyes. Buffy was giving her the talk again. The one about responsibility, trust, and how important it was that Dawn proved that Buffy could give her both of them on this trip. She had heard this specific version of the talk about twenty times in the last week, and was pretty sure she would be hearing it at least one more time before she got in Janice's parents' car to head to their beach house.

Dawn couldn't help but smile at the thought. In two hours she would be heading out of Sunnydale and away from the Hellmouth (and her sister) for two whole weeks. She was sure that she and Janice would still be on lockdown, but they would be on lockdown on a beach. Much better than in a town where the mortality rate was so high that half the local newspaper was filled with obituaries. And of course, the prospect of leaving training, research, and anything else related to her Blessed status behind was nice. 'Out of sight, out of mind' was going to be her mantra for the next two weeks.

In the last few months, Dawn's life had completely changed. The proclamation that she was some super being that would determine that fate of every dimension in existence was not exactly something that was easy to cope with – especially when the details about what she was exactly were seriously lacking. The book that Arabella had given to them had no more information than what the summary of the Legend that Anya had told them. Dawn had refused to listen to Willow when she had started telling the other Scoobies about the more fluffy aspects of the book. It felt as if she was being told the intimate details of her life (particularly the romantic aspects) before her life actually occurred. It made her sick just thinking about it. Everyone kept on trying to reassure her that the book probably had quite a few creative liberties taken when writing about her life, but Dawn couldn't see it that way. She felt as if no matter what decisions she made in her life the outcome would be the same – what the Powers That Be had pre-determined it to be.

The worst part about the whole situation was that it wasn't just about her, but about someone else – Vidhamaka, her future other half. The book was even more vague and confusing about who (or what) Vidhamaka was. Every guy Dawn met had the potential to be Vidhamaka. Every time she met someone new, every time she thought about a boy in one of her classes, she'd wonder if he was the second half to determining the fate of the universe. It was driving her mad. When one of the boys in her class (who happened to be one of the cutest boys as well) had asked her out, she had almost had a panic attack thinking that it may be the start of the end.

"Dawn, are you listening to me?"

Too bad she couldn't begin the mantra right now.

"Yes Buffy, of course I am."

"What did I just say?" Buffy raised her eyebrow, waiting to see how her little sister would answer. Dawn was so anxious to get moving that she could hardly stay seated, let alone listen to a single word that Buffy was saying.

With wide eyes and a nervous bite on her bottom lip, Dawn squeaked out her response. "You were just telling me how important it is that I don't let you down on this trip and that I make sure I stay in line."

When Buffy's expectant look turned to surprise, Dawn knew she had responded correctly. It was getting amazingly easy to figure out exactly what Buffy would say when she got into lecture mode.

"So what exactly are you going to do with me off improving my tan for two weeks anyways?" Dawn asked while sticking her fork into the pancake sitting on her plate. She was actually very curious about the answer. Buffy worked and slayed, occasionally visiting the Bronze when Dawn convinced to come out. Since Willow and Tara had left for England, that was pretty much it for Buffy's social department. At least as far as Dawn was aware. Spike would come around once in a while, but that was mainly to tell Buffy he had found some new big bad for them to kill. And Xander had become more and more absent in the past few months…

Lunch

Xander put his hammer down as he heard the front door of the shop open and close behind him. Getting down from the step-ladder, he walked over to his wife and pecked her on the cheek as she set their lunch out on the make-shift table that was temporarily replacing the large round table that had been destroyed. Work on the Magic Box was well on its way, but a lot still had to be done. Insurance was covering the majority of the reconstruction costs that the damage caused by "thieves and vandals" (a.k.a. Willow) had caused, and Anya had been willing to dip into her personal savings for the rest. The store wasn't nearly ready – but it was beginning to look like a store once again and Anya was sure that it would look as it once had. It was the books that Willow had erased that could never be replaced that had his wife really upset.

"So what did you get us today, honey?"

"Skinless chicken on whole wheat and a garden salad," Anya chirped as she set the food out. Xander cringed. Anya had decided that Xander needed to lose weight, and that it would be her first official wifely duty (after sex, of course) to ensure that he stuck to a diet so hellish that Satan would be proud. Anya insured him that it was merely a diet book that Halfrek had recommended to her. That didn't make him feel any better.

"Dawn's leaving today for her vacation, you know." Anya started to chatter as she methodically set out their lunch table. She insisted that they would not eat on a construction bench and always set out a table cloth, cutlery, and whatever else she felt was needed on a particular day. Sometimes flowers, sometimes place mats, it all depended on her mood. "I thought it would be nice for Buffy if we invited her over for dinner or to go out sometime this week. She's going to be lonely."

"Not likely." Xander said through gritted teeth. When Spike hadn't left like he thought he was going to, all hope that he and Buffy were not actually a thing and that it had all been some sick nightmare that Xander had had due to stress was lost. For a while, he pretended to ignore it, but every time they had a Scooby meeting, every time they were all out, he could see it. Even if Spike and Buffy were on opposite ends of a cemetery lost in battle, he could see it. And it disgusted him. The way they looked at each other, the way they would "accidentally" brush up against one another made him ill. And he couldn't understand why nobody else could see it. But Xander would not tell the others. The words that Buffy had said that night still haunted him.

"I want to be sure I'll be strong enough to walk away from them if they make me choose."

The fact that she would even think that thought horrified him – that she would choose that vampire over her friends. Her family. He had to hope that she would get over Spike. That whatever thrall he had her under would go away with time and she would realize how wrong what she was doing was and stake the bastard. And until then, he had to stay quiet. Waiting patiently for Buffy to see the truth – that what she was doing was so fundamentally wrong that it had to stop. But the longer it took for Buffy to see this, the more difficult it was to be around her. So, he had been pulling Anya and himself away. It had been easier once Willow had had her meltdown. (Another subject he avoided diligently. Everything would be alright.) The Scoobies were temporarily disbanded, and they were busy with their own projects - particularly rebuilding the Magic Box in Anya and Xander's case.

"What do you mean unlikely?" Anya asked as she put her finishing touches on the table and motioned for Xander that it was time to sit.

"I just mean that she's busy – with work, and slaying, and, you know, um, work. I'm sure she wants some alone time, An'."

"Maybe. But we might as well offer – would you give her a call this evening?"

"Sure." Xander mumbled as he reached for his sandwich.

Anya suddenly smiled brightly, "I almost forgot! I thought you were working so hard that I'd give you a reward today." Xander felt a shred of optimism – maybe he'd get a real drink instead of the diet drinks she had been forcing on him.

"Coke?"

"No silly – ultra low fat mayo."

"Oh."

"And a blow job."

"Oh!"

"Eat your salad first, dear."

"Yes honey!"

Supper

Spike sat at his desk tapping the pen impatiently on the table staring at the monitor in front of him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the paragraph to work. He just couldn't find the right words to describe what he was trying to convey. He knew he should just take a break and come back to it later, but couldn't. He knew he wouldn't be able to leave the monitor until he had expressed the moment perfectly.

It had all started out as an innocent way to pass the time late one night while Buffy was sleeping. He had been watching her and had had the sudden compulsion to write. Instead of brushing the impulse off as he normally would, Spike had gone with it, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen. At the very least, he thought it would be amusing to see what crap he came up with. But to his surprise, writing was different then it had been when he was mortal. It was as if everything that he had been trying to express back then was easily expressed now. Maybe it was the demon, maybe it was time, but he had realized quite quickly that the reason he could finally write well was that he had actually experienced the emotions he was writing about. That was the key. Once Spike had started writing, he couldn't stop. Whenever Buffy wasn't there, whenever he wasn't out fighting, he couldn't help but write. He quickly moved onto a computer to make editing easier, and soon found that poems just weren't enough. So here he found himself writing a full length story – he wasn't sure if it would be a short story or a novel, a single book, or a series, a piece of shit or a work of art. He really didn't care – he just needed to write it.

When I looked into her eyes I felt as if I was seeing everything that I had desired my entire life. The thrill, adventure, passion that had been lacking. I thought that she would have all the answers, could tell me all the secrets to both this world and the next. And that is when Drusilla said the four words that would change the course of life as I knew it. "Do you want it?" I often wonder what my answer would have been if I knew what she had been really asking.

Spike heard the keys in the door and quickly saved and closed the document, smiling as he did so. There was one person who could always tear him away from his computer – Buffy. Walking into the living room, he smiled as she struggled with her gym bag and what smelt like dinner. Wings, blood, and a chicken salad (for her).

"Hey, a little help here maybe?" Buffy asked as Spike continued to just smile and stare as she struggled to close the door, balance the food, and not drop anything in the process. Spike casually walked towards her, not saying a word as he took the food and placed it on the coffee table. Turning back around, he took her bag and tossed it in a corner as he shut the door. He then grabbed her around the waist and kissed her deeply.

When he finally let Buffy come up for air, she could barely stand. "That was nice. Unexpected, but very nice. You should do it again sometime." She smiled as she walked over to the couch, pulling Spike down with her. "Hi."

"Hello," he said, quirking his eyebrow and smirking. "Do you know how long it has been since the last time we were able to see each other at this time of day? It's been too bloody long, love." Spike leaned in for another kiss, but found a strong, small hand stopping.

"Food, then smoochies, I beg of you. I haven't eaten since breakfast with Dawnie and I'm starving. Plus, I have things I want to talk to you about, and I'll forget to if we start with the smoochies now."

With a sigh, Spike nodded his head and headed to the kitchen to get plates and cutlery, and to heat up his blood. "What kinds of things?" he asked nervously (but casually, of course) from the kitchen.

"Nothing bad. It's mainly just that Melanie from work asked if I wanted to go to a party at her place tomorrow night, and I said I had to check with my boyfriend to see if he had made any plans for us." She smiled knowingly as Spike came back from the kitchen, opening the food containers as she did so.

Spike had a smile on his face as well, as he sat down beside her. "Your boyfriend? Is he handsome?"

"FYI, my boyfriend would be you, and she actually asked if you were cute." Spike just quirked an eyebrow. "I said no."

Spike pounced; the food was forgotten as Buffy let out a squeal and smoochies commenced.