Title: If I should die before we wake

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or situations, or concepts, or anything, really.

Summary: After the events described in Deconstructing Hell Spike, Andrew and Dana are menaced by a shadowy threat to Spike's life. You should read DH first.

Rating: T, because Spike is violent, rude, crude, and the bad guys are worse. Well, that's a lie. The bad guys are never worse than Spike.

Chapter 7: Don't you dare

--

The standoff continued, with Dana hovering over the phone. Finally Spike turned off the television. "Okay, I get the Slayer, and I sort of get N'Tallkr'ii. But who was the git with the smokes?"

"N'Tallkr'ii?" asked Illryia.

"The tall scaly guy. His friends just call him Kri."

"You don't?"

"I'm not his friend."

"The git with the smokes," said Dawn carefully, "is Barclay. He's a rogue demon hunter, one we'd been keeping an eye on. We assigned Lucy to follow him. He's dangerous."

"Dangerous in the Spike and Angel sense, or dangerous in the world-ending sense?"

"Um, more of the 'crazy fool with too little knowledge to save himself but just enough to unleash a crazed demon on the world.' It was a thing."

Spike grimaced. "And this conspiracy they found?"

"It exists." Dawn's frown returned. "And one of their concerns is that you already have a network of vampires in place—you are, in fact, their suspect number one."

Spike laughed. "Harmony and the Spike-hounds couldn't conspire to put out a burning candle!" he said harshly.

Dawn sighed. "They're a well-organized fighting machine. You're the only one who denies it at this point. Even Angel calls them dangerous."

"He's jealous he doesn't get a fan club."

"They're not a fan club. They're dangerous, unstable…"

"Right. So they came here to find out if I was the one conspiring against the Slayers?"

"Yes. Which, added to the Slayer dreams, just put you in even more trouble."

Spike mulled that over. "Well, then."

Dawn glared at him. "You're not taking this seriously."

He shrugged. "Maybe I'm not. But maybe I just know something you don't know, ever think of that?"

"Like what?"

Spike smiled secretively.

Dawn threw her hands in the air. "Anything else, while we're on the subject?"

"Yeah. Seeing old scale-head reminded me that I need to make a phone call." Spike stood up and wandered over to Dana.

For some reason that made Andrew and Dawn very tense. Dana thought that it was a relaxing sort of gesture.

Dana moved aside, letting Spike touch the phone. He picked it up but didn't dial, instead glancing to Dana. "Decision time, kid," he said.

"What?"

"You can try to stop me, or you can let me go. What's it going to be?"

The front doorbell rang. Illyria didn't spring up to get it, instead leaning back imperiously and glaring at Andrew and Dawn, who glared back. It rang again.

"I don't understand!" said Dana. And right now she thought it might be urgent that she understood.

"I mean, we're leaving. Illyria and me. Dawn thought it was a bad idea, but we've got business."

Andrew stood up, heading for the door. Dawn got up to follow him, keeping an eye on Spike, who began to dial random numbers without looking at the phone, still staring at Dana.

"Why?"

"Because there's a conspiracy and they think I'm behind it. I never did play nice with the other kids—you know that."

"But—?"

"No buts, not this time."

Dana wasn't sure what he meant. Then she heard the demon alarm in Andrew's room upstairs jingle, and Andrew came flying back through the room, tumbling over the ground.

"Watch out!" said Dana, heading for the weapons cabinet.

Spike tripped her.

As she stumbled she could see Illyria pointing a finger at Dawn while standing, and she could see Dawn going for the crossbow.

And Connor was coming in the door, sword drawn. "One extraction team, as ordered."

"I thought you were an hour away!" wailed Dana, scrambling to her feet.

"Well, I can't tell the truth all the time, can I?"

"And how did you talk to Spike?"

"I didn't. All I needed to hear was the part where Spike was killing you, and I knew that your lot really wouldn't like that. And we have plans for these eventualities."

Spike stopped at the closet and grabbed a bag. Dana recognized it as his emergency weapons bag. "I'm real sorry about this, but we have business," he said gruffly.

Dana whirled and grabbed his arm. He didn't fight back, just pulling his arm up between them and closing it into a fist defensively. She kept a tight grip on his wrist, one that she was all too aware was a little too needy.

She couldn't think of anything to say. She couldn't even think of words that would express what she felt bubbling under her skin, thrashing around in her stomach.

But this was Spike, so she didn't have to. She just held on, and waited for him to get it.

He scowled. "You want to come with us, don't you?"

"She will slow us down, and she is a danger to you," said Illyria, who was busily tying Dawn and Andrew up.

Spike didn't say anything, just watching Dana. He glanced back at Connor, finally, who had put his sword away and was watching them both with a guarded expression. "Well?" asked Spike moodily.

Connor's slightly androgynous face twisted into a brooding look that Dana remembered Angel wearing a lot. "Spike, you have all sorts of issues. Just ask yourself; will your issues get us killed?"

Spike thought about that. Dana, in the meantime, decided she liked holding onto his forearm. That was going to take some analyzing, and she suspected her therapist would have a field day with it.

"Wait, you'd take her with you and leave us here?" demanded Dawn. "No way!"

"She'd be in danger too," pointed out Andrew. "You've heard the dreams!"

"Yeah, but what's coming… well, that's enough to make me think she ought to be with me," said Spike, frowning. "None of you have a clue what's happening with that, do you? The bad guys are all getting it together now. They know the big guy has an inside track this time, and they're zeroing in on the Poof."

Dawn frowned. "What does Angel have to do with this?"

Spike grinned. "Once upon a time, everything was about Angel. Now they ask me questions like that. What does he have to do with it? Everything. If there's a conspiracy, you can bet I'm only collateral damage."

"No! Spike!" Dawn tried to kick Illyria, who stared down at her with mixed contempt and pity.

"You cannot reason with this," said Illyria. "He is in fact part of a conspiracy, just not the one you think. He and Angel have conspired to hide the truth of Angel's mission from you. They have conspired to obfuscate."

Spike scowled. "Oh, give the game away, why don't you?"

"You are the badguy?" asked Dana, confused.

"No, this is a good conspiracy," said Spike.

"Then why not let us in on it!" spat Dawn.

"I could gag her," offered Illyria.

Spike scowled. "It's not my secret to keep. Nor yours. It's hers, and right now she doesn't even know it. What kind of ogre would I be if I went around stealing people's body's secrets?"

"Now he's crazy!" complained Dawn.

"Seriously, I can gag her," said the blue demon, scowling.

Spike shook his head. "No gagging."

Dawn was scowling at him. "We will find you, you know."

"Yeah, but by then I should be done sorting all this out." He glanced at his arm, where Dana still had a deathgrip on him. "Come on, pet. That'll get me all sorts of trouble with your Watcher. He'll be looking for blood when he comes after us."

She still didn't have any words for him. He sighed, tugging her closer by bringing his arm closer to his body, pulling it right up against his chest so she was at arms-length to him. She was shaking, just a little bit.

"You know I don't fool around with the important stuff, pet," said Spike softly. "No fooling, now. We're heading out."

Connor was playing with a cell phone idly while he watched Illyria closely. "Two hours till," he said. "We could still pull a Panama."

"Panama?" said Dana.

"Never mind," said Spike. "Look, I do this, okay? Secret plans, stab my friends in the back. Leave them behind because I don't work by committee."

He paused, and Dana tightened her grip. "Please," she said, not even sure just what she was asking. She could see on his face that he was very close to letting her come along, and she wanted to go with him.

He scowled, glancing at Illyria. "No, she won't."

Illyria raised an eyebrow. "If you say so."

"I do!"

Connor cleared his throat. "Watcher-boy called for backup."

"What?" said Spike, surprised.

Andrew, tied up beside Dawn, flushed. "Sorry," he squeaked.

"How'd you know?" asked Spike.

"I didn't," said Andrew glumly. "I guessed. It was too much, the demon knowing you, the other dreams. Visions. I know you don't like being weighed down by us."

Dawn stared at him. "You never used to do things like this," she said.

"Like this? You mean like a mad dash off to regain my soul in Africa while you're facing off with Red? Like a mad dash to destroy Wolfram and Hart and save Angel? Or a mad dash to give Drusilla her soul back? Or a mad dash to save Illyria? Mad dashes into the night are my new specialty, kiddo."

Dawn drew her chin up. "You don't have to be reckless. What are you trying to prove?"

Spike shrugged. "I'd like to say nothing, but I do have a bit at stake here, don't I?"

Dana tried not to laugh, because she was pretty sure that the word stake here wasn't meant as a pun and wasn't funny at all. It was hard.

Dawn waited patiently for him to explain himself, but he remained mute, frowning back at Dana now. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I am—and nobody knows better than you!—pretty poor company at best."

"Positive," she said, emulating his own strident tone.

He chuckled. "I may be sure of myself all the time, but am I right? Never mind, we'll sort that out."

"And thus he sets his own destruction in place," said Illyria with a defeated tone.

"Crap, I forgot about that part," said Connor.

"How did you know Andrew sent for help?" asked Illyria.

"Eh? Oh, I keep tabs," said Connor vaguely.

"US military likes to keep an eye on the Slayers," said Spike.

"You're still in cahoots with Riley!" said Dawn, shocked.

"Never stopped, love," replied Spike. "Much like my other little conspiracies. Why does your lot always think I'm some sort of toothless ally who sits around on his hands, like Angel? I'm a networker. I make new friends, find new enemies, always in motion."

Dawn stared at him frostily. "Are you going to take me along with you and Dana?"

Spike glared back. "Are you going to admit to me that you've been sleeping with Watcher-boy?"

She blinked, shocked. Andrew let out a burbling gasp, sure that his death had finally arrived.

"And how long have you known?" asked Dawn, still trying to maintain control of the situation.

"Well, ever since I asked Xander, actually," drawled Spike. "See, I may be emotionally distant just now, but I have been keeping tabs on you from a distance. I've known… since before Andrew came back with me."

"Xander knows," said Dawn, her voice small.

"Yes, and he's still waiting on being told. Isn't he a wonderful guy?" asked Spike sarcastically. "You want me to be open with you? You might start by being open with me."

Andrew screwed his eyes shut. Dawn spared him a glance, then scowled at Spike. "How dare you judge me? You've established a psychic bond with a hell-goddess!"

"But I was honest about it. Can you say that much? Even your best friends don't know about this!"

"I told my sister," said Dawn quietly. Spike didn't bother nailing the point home.

"And the way you treat him—what's more important, the cause or your relationship?" Spike stopped abruptly, thinking about that. Dawn started to answer, but he held up a hand. "Blast! I asked another one."

"Another what?" asked Dana.

"A question I don't actually know the answer to. Now I have to untangle this. Blast!"

Dana shook her head. "But you always say that your friends are more important than the mission."

"I say it, I live it, but why? I don't actually know it! I just assume it! Gah!" He scrubbed his face with his free hand. "All right, fruit loop, we're going." He turned and began moving, and she followed in his wake, still holding his forearm.

"Dana!" yelled Dawn. "Wait!"

Spike stopped and waited. Dana had been planning to keep walking. Stopping might mean the Watchers would tell her to fight Spike, and she wasn't going to do that.

Spike waited patiently, and Dawn was staring at him and scowling, not at Dana. Dana kind of liked that. She didn't like it so much when she was the center of attention.

"Be careful," Dawn said finally, grudgingly.

When all the others were gone and they were left alone Andrew cleared his throat. "Be careful?" he repeated, a note of disbelief in his voice.

"That stinking rat!" seethed Dawn.

"Be careful?" repeated Andrew.

"What? She was going with him! She chose him over us, and she wasn't going to try to stop him—did you see how she wouldn't look at me?" Dawn sighed, leaning back on the couch. "Now we're tied up. Who's coming to save us? Faith? Giles?"

Andrew coughed. "Willow."

"Willow?"

"She said she'd been on the next plane."

"That's fifteen hours. What about somebody in the country?"

"They were… busy."

Dawn frowned. "So, it's up to us to get untied."

"Oh, it shouldn't be too hard. Illyria gave me the old nudge-wink routine, and never tied my left hand."

"What!"

"What? I'm not going to go after them! They're scary! And I'm still just glad Spike didn't tear my head off!"

Dawn sighed, leaning against him. "Am I the only one who finds it super convenient that Spike is making overtures to the Slayer right at the moment he's about to run away from us and might need her on his side?"

Andrew thought about it. "You can be pretty cold blooded," he said finally.

"To think of that?"

"No, I mean, Spike doesn't do things like that. Not in cold blood. He'll do some pretty vicious things, but never just… thought out like that. Well, he does, but not to his friends."

"And you're still sure we're his friends?"

"Left hand? Hello?"

Dawn sighed. "Are you going to untie me?"

"Hm, maybe." Andrew started untying her, barely managing to stifle a giggle. "How about that, huh? Spike gave you the morally outraged look, and he pulled it off."

Dawn scowled at him, clearly unamused. "Thanks, Andy. We're tied up, he took a Slayer off to who knows where, and you're geeking out."

"Oh, I think I know where," said Andrew, turning so that she could untie him now that her hands were free.

"What? Where?"

Andrew let out a sigh, wiggling his hand free and rubbing his wrist, keeping his eyes down. "Do you remember when Connor first called?"

--

Spike kicked the door in.

It was an easy thing to say, but much harder to do. Especially when the door was a steel-reinforced monstrosity with giant rivets giving it an imposing look. It sailed through the air like a kite, looking weightless, till it slammed down and tore a hole in the wooden floor, dropping into the basement with a crash.

Spike didn't stroll through the door, or tiptoe through. He stalked in angrily.

He was in his battle armor, the brown leather outfit that was a twin of the one Illyria wore. She stood at his left side, a scowl on her face. Connor, at Spike's other side, had a sword that he twirled from hand to hand.

Dana hung back. The team hadn't done any prepwork; they had just started moving. No talk of who would do what.

She didn't like that. It wasn't how Spike had taught her to do this sort of thing. You were supposed to plan and coordinate and make your targets feel intimidated by your authoritarian and prepared manner.

The man sitting in the middle of the room had a gun, and he was shaking as he pointed it at them. "Hold it right there!" he barked.

He was a big fat man, with a greedy scowl. Dana already didn't like him.

"Aw, did your girls tip you off?" asked Spike, striding forward. The man never fired, still shaking, as Spike picked him up off the ground and threw him into the wall. He clattered to the ground loudly.

Connor marched up to the desk and kicked it, knocking it over. "Anything new in the Seer business, Daegstron?"

"Here's the thing," said Spike, hauling the big man to his feet. "I know a Seer. My former Sire is a Seer. I have an affinity for them. Not to mention my general disdain for a guy who pimps out women—no matter what part of them he's taking advantage."

"I take good care of my girls!" blustered the big man, trying to struggle free of Spike's iron grip.

"Right," said Spike, softly. Dangerously. "I want to talk to the girls. Can I do that?"

Connor had already begun rifling through the sideways desk drawers. "Who is this guy who paid you all this money?" he asked suspiciously.

"What are you doing?" squeaked Daegstrom.

"It was too convenient," replied Connor. "You think I don't have contacts? I'm the thinker of the team. Spike's just the muscles."

"What was too convenient!" demanded Daegstrom.

"The psychic energies required to manufacture a vision that specific could only have been generated by a Seer-mill like yours," said Spike. "Oh, didn't think we could have figured out they were manufactured? Wouldn't have, except for Connor."

"And an anonymous tipoff," said Connor sarcastically. "Of course, that was you. You figured on getting me all worked up—hiding in plain sight—being just another source on this. You forgot one, stupid."

"One what?"

"One Seer." Connor straightened up and glided over beside Spike to stare down at the big man. "My dad, you ninny! He's a direct conduit to the higher powers these days, or did you miss that memo? It was a big red flag to us when he didn't get the memo that Spike was in danger. Worse yet, you failed to even try to cover the astral trail."

"I have a nose for these things," proclaimed Illyria smugly. Dana noted that the goddess had turned to face her, eyeing the Slayer closely.

As the others continued to threaten the big man Illyria approached Dana carefully, her stalked pace slowing to a mere stride as she walked towards Dana. "You should know that they plan to kill this man," she said quietly. "If you wish to interfere, now is the time."

Dana was having trouble following the whole conversation, but she'd caught the part about Seer-pimping. She wasn't sure exactly what that entailed, but her stomach was already roiling.

"Slayer-rules."

Illyria arched an eyebrow. "You are a Slayer, yes."

"I'm not playing by their rulebook right now." It was very much a Spike thing to say, and she was proud of it.

Illyria smiled. "Well, they don't actually plan to kill him anyway. That was my plan, but I got vetoed."

"How do you get all this communicating done when you never talk!" blurted Dana, surprised. Somehow it seemed they were unraveling some sort of conspiracy while at the same time making decisions, all without a word passing between them.

Illyria sighed. "Generally, between Spike's telepathy and Connor's command of technology, we manage."