(Set after "Showtime.")

Dawn watched them chatter in the living room as if she were looking through a picture window. Andrew was trying to get Kennedy and Rona to reenact Buffy's fight with the Turok-Han for Giles, but it looked more likely that the reenactment would happen to Andrew if he didn't back off.

She slipped into the kitchen, turning off the lights as she entered. It stung that they hadn't shared the plan with her. Did they think she was that bad at keeping a secret? Bad enough to leave her freaking about Buffy's safety way longer than necessary? What would it take for Buffy to believe she was mature enough to handle stuff? She could be old, like 30, and Buffy would still think she was too young to be in on the big things.

So, if they weren't going to tell her anything then she'd just to pay closer attention to the details and try to anticipate what was coming next. Buffy hadn't said where she was going when she'd told Willow and Xander to get them all back home, but it wasn't rocket science to figure out she was rescuing Spike. Or that she'd bring him back here. Dawn tucked herself into a chair that faced the back door. Buffy would bring him in this way, especially if the lights were out. She'd ideally want to slip him down into the basement without an audience. And when they arrived, she'd be waiting.

She imagined Buffy's reaction and practiced her response. Maybe if she framed it just right, Buffy wouldn't close her out. Maybe.

xxxxx

She started awake. How long had she been sleeping? There were still people in the living room, but she could also hear a bunch of them upstairs. Had Buffy found Spike? Then Dawn realized that what had woken her was the sound of foot falls on the back steps. The door was opening, just as she'd anticipated.

He was with her, leaning heavily upon her but moving under his own power. Dawn felt her anger and frustration toward both of them start to knot in her stomach. How could he break so many promises? How could she trust him more than her? Pulling off the whole new and improved mature Dawn thing was going to be tougher than she'd thought.

Then they took another step forward and a shaft of moonlight fell across Spike's face. Dawn gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. But it was too late. They'd heard her and now noticed her.

"Dawn, what are you...?" Buffy whispered.

"I thought you'd need help. Unless you want Xander or Giles or someone. I could go tell them you're both back."

Buffy didn't look pleased, but Dawn expected that. But she was pretty sure Buffy would pick practical over pleased.

"Since you're already here, get some warm water and clean rags. And quietly. Okay?"

Dawn pulled a bowl filled with clean cloths from under her chair and held them up for inspection. She felt a surge of mini triumph when Buffy looked pleasantly surprised. She wasn't quite sure what the look in Spike's one good eye was saying.

They got him down to the basement and onto the cot with minimal noise. Dawn filled the bowl up with water and brought it over to Buffy. She stared at Spike's injuries. It was hard not to. It had been one thing to imagine what they were doing to him, it was quite another to actually see unhealed cuts carved across his chest and bruises overlapping bruises.

"Buffy I've never seen him look this bad."

Buffy said nothing, but wrung out the cloth and began wiping Spike's face.

"'S nothing, Bit. Compared to when Glory had her way with me, I feel fine. Better 'n fine even."

Dawn tried to catch Buffy's eye, but her gaze stayed fixed on Spike as she rewet the cloth. "He knows who you are. That's a good sign."

"Getting slapped around by evil is getting to be a habit with you," chided Dawn. She realized too late that she'd said it out loud. Buffy was going to kill her. But then Spike started to laugh. Well it sounded like he wanted to laugh, except it turned into a bloody cough.

After the spasms passed, they worked in silence. Dawn periodically changed the water while Buffy methodically washed Spike's arms, back and chest. Finally, Buffy appeared to be satisfied that all the cuts had been cleaned.

"He needs blood," said Buffy.

"I'll go get it," Dawn offered.

"That's okay," said Buffy, standing up and flexing her shoulders. "I need talk to Giles about what he and Anya found out anyway."

Then Buffy looked down at her and Dawn felt as though Buffy was really seeing her for the first time that day.

"Would you mind staying with him? Just until I get back?"

"Sure," Dawn said, trying to sound casual.

So she sat next to Spike, who was either passed out or too exhausted to speak. She tried to think of anything else that should be done and found herself at his feet, loosening his boots and easing them off. Then she freshened her bowl of water and began to wash his feet, her hair hanging around her like a curtain. She thought about the other cuts and bruises, the ones Spike had worn with pride after a particularly invigorating fight with a demon. The ones from last year that caused him to clam up when she'd wondered about them out loud. The ones from Glory that Spike had played down. At least until tonight.

"What are you doing?"

Dawn looked up. "You're awake."

"Yes, I know. But I asked about you."

Dawn looked down at the bowl of water. It seemed rather obvious, but okay. "I'm washing your feet."

"You're crying."

Dawn wondered if he was caught in another delusion, but then with a dried hand she touched her face and realized he was right. She had been crying. "Oh."

Spike nodded his head. "Come here, Bit."

Dawn moved back to the chair and slipped her hand into his. He gave it a gentle squeeze. She blinked a few times. It seemed to help.

"You shouldn't have had to see me like this," said Spike.

"It's not that. It's, I dunno, it's nothing."

He didn't say anything to that. She wanted to tell him everything. Like she used to. But she wasn't sure she remembered how. The silence lengthened and she wondered why Buffy wasn't back yet. He still hadn't said anything. Maybe he was asleep. Or maybe he was waiting. Sometimes he was pretty good at that.

"Spike?"

"Hm?"

"You're right, it's not nothing. I was thinking about the last time I saw you and the first time I saw you and all the in between parts. And I guess I feel kinda guilty."

"You've got no reason to."

"Yeah, yeah I do. And I'm sorry."

"Ah, Dawn." He sounded so sad. "You shouldn't, but I'll go along with it on one condition. You let me say I'm sorry too."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry Bit."

She wanted to say, it's okay, but it came out, "Maybe you should try to rest. I won't leave."

He closed his eyes and gave her hand another squeeze. She squeezed back. The good side of his mouth turned up in a smile. Then a bit later his body relaxed into sleep.

In the blanket of silence Dawn whispered, "Thank you."