XXVIII.

October 16.

They had been back in Lago Vista for three days, and other than a cast on Xander's hand there seemed no long-term damage physically. Dawn and Xander had said their goodbyes to the Woods at the airport and driven back to Xander's apartment together.

Xander had asked Dawn to come with him to the doctor to have her cuts looked at. She had refused and he'd been too scared to press the point. When he came home with his cast, she had made sure he took his medicine then she went to his room and closed the door.

After waking up in each other's arms in Chicago, they had not spoken about anything important. Now, days later, neither knew where to start. Dawn lived in his bedroom and kept the door closed except during meals or when Xander was using the bathroom. Xander stuck to the couch and listened to old Cibo Matto CDs softly on the stereo.

It was time to do something, and Xander figured he ought to be the one to do it. He knocked softly on the bedroom door.

"Dawn? Are you awake?"

"Yes. Bathroom's free."

He went to open the door, paused. "Are you decent?" he called.

"Yes!" She didn't laugh.

He opened the door and saw her, wearing slacks and a cotton shirt, lying on her side facing the wall. He went to the bed, and asked softly, "Can I sit down? I think we need to talk."

"If you want. It's your bed." Not hostile, just hollow.

"Dawn, this is hard to say and I'm sure you would rather forget about it, but here goes. I was wrong to act the way I did. Not because I was trying to protect you or take care of you, but because you trusted me and I didn't trust you. I was afraid to ask you what was going on so I made a bunch of wrong assumptions and hurt you. I almost got you killed in Chicago and there's nothing I can do to make up for that." He thought she might be crying.

"If you want to leave," he said, looking down at the quilt on his bed, "I'll understand. I'll get you wherever you need to go, or call your sister. Whatever. I just want you to know that wish I could take it all back somehow and start again." She was crying, and he stopped.

For a long while they stayed that way.

"It's all true, you know," she said suddenly. He waited for her to continue.

"I'm the girl who has to be looked out for. The girl kidnapped by demons, the girl whose date is a vampire, the girl who steals tings. The girl who cuts herself just to see if she's real. I've always complained about the way you all treated me. Dad, Mom, Tara. Buffy. Even you. But I've always needed you. You didn't get me almost killed, I did that trying to be on my own."

She rolled over and looked at him. "I'm never going to be on my own, not and be safe. I'm always going to be the girl who needs you looking out for me. How fun will that be in a year? In five? In twenty?"

"I'm the Key, Xander. Ever think about what that means? I wasn't born, Xander! We all act like it's no big deal, but I wasn't born. I wasn't real. Some mystical monks decided they were the guardians of everything shiny and bright in the universe, so they needed to create something you guys would protect. Then, they took this ball of energy and made me, and with what mojo they had left they made you all remember loving me for years so you would protect me."

"And it worked. I'm protected. I can't get killed if I try, because you will always be there for me no matter how bad my decisions are. But what's it mean? What am I for, Xander? What am I for?" She was crying again and he reached out to touch her.

She pulled away, angry. "Stop it. Don't tell me I'm just being silly and it's all going to be okay."

"I wasn't going to." Xander looked at her and said calmly, "Dawn, you were made from a ball of energy that went through amazing changes and became a person. You don't know why you were made, so you're not sure how to live your life. You worry that you hurt the people who love you."

"Yes, yes!" she sobbed at him. "It's not fair!"

"No it's not. But Dawn, you're not alone." He waved his hand at the room, the world. "This, all of this, came from a ball of energy. We're not sure why everything was made, and we aren't sure how to live our lives. We all worry about hurting the people we love, because they're all we have."

He looked at her face, her hair. "I don't know why you're here, but I don't know why I'm here either. You've made bad choices? Then start making good ones."

"I want to be with you, Xander. I like the way I feel about myself when you talk about me. Is that selfish of me?"

"Yes, but it's not wrong. It's good to feel good, it's good to be happy. Ever since I saw that settlement check, I've been wondering what to do with the money. While we were in Chicago I realized what I need to do. I want to help people be happy. When I figure out how, I'll do it. As long as I can, as much as I can."

"You can start right here. Make me happy right here on this bed." Shaking her head, she wrinkled her nose at him. "I actually just said that didn't I?"

He grinned. "As you wish, Buttercup." He leaned in and kissed her nose, then hugged her. They cuddled together and soon were napping sprawled together on the bed.

XXIX.

October 20.

Xander was lying on his bed, wearing long flannel pajama pants and reading the paper. Dawn sat on the end of the bed in the tops of the flannel pajamas and not much else. They came down to mid-thigh, but on Dawn that was pretty far. She was chewing a pencil and looking at some notes he'd made for her the night before.

"Okay, I've established that my math is better than yours, but that's not a huge accomplishment," she told him around her pencil. "Still, these numbers seem to work out. I'd have someone like Robin check them over to be sure. I think it will work."

He smiled at her over the top of the paper. She was gorgeous. He was glad they were settling in together. The place was too small for them both really, but they were always on the bed, or in it, anyway.

"Okay, I'll call Carlos and Mandy this afternoon, see if we can get things started."

"She was the scheduler for your crew, right? What does he do?"

"He's the local building supervisor for Habitat. If anyone knows where and how to build the most people a decent place to live, it'd be Carlos."

She cocked her head at him critically. "Have I told you this morning that I love you, rather?"

"I say, my lady, I do think so. But please, do say it again." He grinned at her.

"You're crazier than me. That suits me nicely. It makes me the sane responsible one at least part of each day. Now kiss me and go see if the coffee's ready."

"Yes, dear." He gave her a kiss somewhere between affectionate and pornographic and padded out to the kitchen. Kissing Dawn always made him feel happy. Dirty too. He knew that eventually he would get over that part, or mostly over it.

He was glad Dawn appeared to be in no rush to make their relationship more physical. As tempting as she was, they had other issues to deal with without too much sex in the picture. It was sort of like high school. They dated, kissed, and cuddled half naked and giggling, but stopped short of more.

He stopped, coffee pot in hand, listening to Dawn as she gathered up the newspaper. She'd cranked a Dingoes Ate My Baby bootleg he'd bought off eBay, and he could hear her dancing around to the song the way she liked to do after a long kiss-and-grope morning. Actually, as he recalled, that was nothing like high school at all. Anyway, he was adjusting to being in love, as was she, and it was going pretty smoothly.

He heard a soft knock at the door. He called back to Dawn as he went to answer it, "Are we expecting anyone?"

He opened the door part way, then completely, and stood in shock.

"Hello, Xander," said Buffy. "Seen my sister?"

XXX.

"Uh. Um. Uh."

"Think we've covered that part. Can I come in?" She walked past him and looked around his place. It was smaller than she'd pictured when Willow had told her Dawn was going to spend some time there this fall before deciding on colleges in the spring. She'd just sort of pictured it bigger.

"Um. Hi. Buffy. Buffy!" He stood by the doorway, coffee pot in one hand, and doorknob in the other.

Buffy looked at him and laughed. "Nice look for you Xander. Cross between a bare-chested galley slave and a big flannelly pirate. Do I get a hug?"

"Sure, sure…" He moved forward, realized just in time he had a pot of hot coffee and did not hug her with it. She backed a few steps away to let him set the pot on the stove.

"Honey, was someone at the door…?" Dawn came in carrying the paper in one hand and her coffee cup in the other. It was from a tacky U-Glaze-It they had found. "Kissing Me is Key," Xander had written on one side, with a key unlocking a pair of lips on the other.

"Dawn. It's Buffy," said Xander in a voice more suited to, "Look how natural he looks." He saw that Dawn had not put on anything. In fact, she had undone a button or two and put on some fresh lip-gloss. Probably the raspberry he liked, he thought with what he hoped were not his last thoughts.

Buffy turned, smiling, and saw Dawn. She turned back to Xander with a comment on her lips. She did a double take, eyes running up and down Dawn's long legs, much of which stretched naked from beneath the pajama top.

She turned back to Xander with a comment on her lips. She did a triple take, eyes taking in the flannel pattern of Dawn's pajama tops and comparing it to Xander's pajama bottoms.

She turned back to Xander with a comment on her lips. It stayed there on her lips, however, because her mouth refused to move, refused to form the words her brain was refusing to think.

Dawn coasted to a stop. "Buffy." Her eyes lit up. "Buffy!" She moved to give her sister a hug. As she spread her arms, her pajama top started to ride up, and she realized that her sister was decidedly not smiling. She dropped her arms and again stopped where she was.

"Dawn," said Buffy. "With Xander. In… pajamas."

"It's not what it looks like, Buffy." Xander was falling back into panic mode and he could feel his face getting hot. He knew he was blushing, and that made it worse.

"It's not?" said both Summers girls at once, staring at him.

"Buff," Xander started, taking a step towards her, and then realizing he had no idea what to say. "Dawn?" he looked to her, and was equally tongue-tied.

"Dawn, could you excuse us for just a second. Xander and I need to talk." Buffy looked reasonable and cool, in a way that truly and deeply frightened Xander.

"No," said Dawn agreeably.

"Thanks," her sister replied, then cocked her head at Dawn, "What?"

"I said," Dawn said, moving to stand next to Xander, "'No.' You can talk to both of us." She put an arm around Xander's waist and stood calmly facing her sister.

Xander looked at Dawn, then back to her sister. "So, Buffy… what brings you to Lago Vista? 'Cause if it's the sale at Crate and Barrel, I have to tell you the selection's not what they make it out to be." His attempt at humor was painful even to him. He pasted on a big nervous smile.

"Yeah. You should try the one in North Haverbrook," Dawn added helpfully. "They have the monorail there."

"Not helping, honey," Xander prison-yard-whispered to her out of the side of his mouth, big smile never faltering.

"So," Buffy started, "the plan was to tell me this when, when the kids start college? Or When Xander gets arrested and goes to jail?"

"I'm not a child anymore, Buffy," Dawn tried not to sound indignant, with partial success. "I'm over eighteen, I'm done with school, and I have my own life."

"Great. And that life includes sleeping with Xander. I love Xander." She looked at him. "We all love Xander. We don't sleep with him, Dawnie! It's not that kind of love. And he's like way old for you."

"Uh, Buffy." Xander interjected, "afraid I need to jump in on that one. When's the last time you dated anyone born in the last hundred years? Sophomore year of college?"

Her mouth thinned as she bit down on a reply. She changed her tack.

"What about school?" Buffy tried not to sound too much like the voice in her head that was always asking when she was going back to college. "You had to go to summer school to finish this year, what about college? I was thinking you'd come back to London. Giles and Willow can sort of help you out getting ready for school."

Dawn looked at Xander. "She doesn't even read the reports they send her, does she?" He shrugged. She told Buffy, "I stayed for the summer semester to finish a Lit seminar that I really enjoyed. I've taken everything they offer except trig, 'cause, you know, trig. And I had to stay anyway, 'cause I was tutoring some of the juniors in Greek."

"In Greek? But you don't speak Greek. You speak Greek?"

"And Latin. And French, Italian, Spanish, Basque, Rumanian, and about ten demonic languages but those mostly from books so my accent totally blows."

"And Yiddish, Honey, don't forget the Yiddish," Xander supplied helpfully. She looked at him and they gave each other a squeeze.

"Thanks, Tei-yerinkeh," she kissed him on the cheek. "And Yiddish. Reminds me, you promised we'd go see Pop Warner and Anne today."

"Okay, okay," said Buffy with annoyance, "so Dawn has the whole domestic post-high school thing planned out in a creepy way that I am not even going to think about. But what about you Xander, what are you thinking? You have to know this isn't right."

Xander grabbed the paper from Dawn, and held open a page to Buffy. "You want to talk not right? Take a look at the paper today, tell me what's not right."

She took it and scanned the headlines. It was the local news page. "New Job Program Breaks Even… 3 Dead in House Fire… What, is there some Big Bad awful thing burning down people's houses, that only we can stop? I don't get what this has to do with you and me."

"It has nothing to do with you, Buffy. It wasn't a demon attack or a spell gone wonky, or even just a normal evil madman bent on word conquest. Some kid plugged his Play Station into a bad outlet, and cheap wiring killed him, and killed his sister and killed is mom."

He was angry, and tore the paper from her hands and balled it in his fist.

"It's not something you can slay, or Willow can hocus pocus or Giles or Andrew can research to death. It's ordinary people living ordinary lives, and it's harder than it ought to be because the ones with the real power are off fighting the big fights."

"It's not your fault, Buffy. Only you can save the world, I understand that." He turned back to Dawn and put his arm around her shoulders. "We're tired of saving the world, we just want to make it better."

"Xander," Buffy started, struggling to digest his outburst, "Dawn, come back to London with me. There's something we can do, with the resources we have access to now…"

"You still don't get it, Buffy." Xander had a 'more in sorrow than in anger' thing going with his voice now, and Dawn put her hand on his. "It's not about you and what you can do. It's my life. My life is not the 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer Show, guest starring Willow Rosenberg, with Xander Harris as the Beaver.' My life is my life, and it's here now. You're always welcome here, but it's time you stopped trying to pull everything in your life into orbit around you."

"What about Dawnie?" Buffy asked. "Doesn't my sister belong in my life anymore?"

Xander turned to Dawn. "Don't choose. She'll always be your family, and I'll always love you wherever you go. You don't have to choose between."

Buffy said irritably, "Xander, can you lay off the smoochies fest while we're talking seriously for one minute? Please?"

"Don't call me Dawnie any more, Buffy." Dawn was calm and resolved. "I love you. Not just because you're my sister, and not just 'cause of what you've given up for me. Xander told me not to choose, but I already have. I'm staying here as long as he and I need each other. Come and visit. Come and work, or play, or just visit because you love us and miss us. But don't ever come here to fetch me home again. This is home."

There was a long silence, and they stood facing Buffy, side by side and hand in hand. Finally Buffy grinned weakly.

"Okay, point made. Point made, sharpened and driven in. It's totally pointy. I just was worried about you Dawnie… Dawn. I see you shacked up with some one-eyed pirate type in a love nest in the 'burbs. What's a sister to think?"

"Who wants waffles?" Xander said brightly.

"Or omelets, I could do an omelet while you guys get dressed," Buffy said, and her brows knit. "You are getting dressed right? Please?"

"I have the answer, O Darling Sister of Mine. Blintzes. Berry blintzes with cream, bagels and lox, fresh OJ…" She was heading toward the bedroom and calling back over her shoulder. "Poached eggs and real butter, and glasses of hot tea sweetened with jam Russian style!"

"Oh no, you had to go and hit the breakfast button," Xander said rolling his eye. "Let me get dressed, okay? Then we'll stuff your sister till she slows down to digest. It's the only strategy I've found so far that works."

"Okay," said Buffy. She could see Dawn, wearing jeans and a bra, shrugging into one of Xander's old denim work shirts. "Okay and alrighty then. I will live happily as though I had never seen that," she muttered. "I'm going to wait by the car, okay?" she called.

"See you in a minute."

"Okay, Buff!"

As she closed the door behind her, she heard something suspiciously like giggling. She'd adjusted to being a slayer, to being the Chosen, to losing her friends and family to unspeakable evil, even to being dead and ripped back into the world by powerful magic. Someday, she knew, she'd adjust to the idea of her sister dating. Just, not soon.