"Do you want some more tea?"

Dawn looked down into the teacup she clutched in her hand, still half-full of now-cold pungent brown liquid, and had to stop herself from wrinkling her nose at the prospect of choking down more for the sake of politeness. She'd never been a big fan of tea, that was Giles' thing, and Tara's herbal stuff was especially gross.

"No thanks," she said, then added hopefully, "I'll take something a little harder, though, if you've got it."

Tara's mouth twitched in a little half-smile. "Sorry, sweetie."

Dawn didn't know if that was a "Sorry, I don't have any booze" or a "Sorry, I have a cabinet full of booze but I'm not going to give it to you, an emotionally unbalanced minor." Didn't really matter anyway. Tea wasn't going to make Dawn feel any better, and alcohol probably wouldn't either.

Tara watched Dawn's face intently for a few moments, seeming to read the younger girl's thoughts. Then she went in for another try. "Listen, Dawn, I really think you should …"

"No."

"Dawnie …"

"No."

Tara nodded. "Well. Okay. But you know that means that I have to."

Dawn's head shot up and she fixed wide, betrayed blue eyes on Tara. "You can't!"

"It is so late, sweetie. We have to let Buffy know that you're safe. She must be worried sick about you."

"I don't care. I hate her for what she's doing."

Tara cleared her throat softly, tried again to reason. "But Dawn, you don't know what she's doing. You said you ran away when Buffy opened the door. For all you know she might have welcomed him with open arms. Don't you think you should get all your facts straight before you put so much energy into being angry?"

"Do you think she welcomed him with open arms?" Dawn asked bitterly. "'Cause if so, you don't know my sister."

"I wouldn't presume to know anyone's heart, Dawnie; especially not your sister's. She's a very complex person."

Dawn sighed. "I thought you'd understand," she said in a small voice.

Tara moved over to sit next to Dawn on the couch, putting her arms around her. Dawn let herself be held, resting her head on Tara's shoulder. "Oh, I understand a few things. I understand that you're upset." She paused delicately. "I understand that you're afraid of losing Spike again."

"I don't care about Spike," Dawn said instantly.

Tara smiled, her lips pressing against Dawn's hair. "Yeah. Of course you don't."

"Are you laughing at me?"

"Maybe just a little."

xXxXx

It was like the most glorious sort of déjà vu, lying in bed with her, limbs tangled together in the sleepy buzzing bliss of after. And then less glorious and more familiar, as a bit of unsavory history actually began to replay itself—a sharp intake of breath from Buffy, eyes that were half-lidded in contentment open wide with sudden alarm.

"Dawn!"

He frowned, about to make a crack about the inappropriateness of her thinking of the bit at a time like this, when the urgency sliced through his Buffy-drunk stupor like a splash of icy water to the face. "Right." He disentangled himself from her, and they both stood and began retrieving haphazardly shed articles of clothing from the floor around the bed.

"I'm going to kill her if she doesn't stop doing this. I might kill her anyway, just because she's making me leave this room right now," Buffy grumbled as she tugged on her wrinkled jeans. "I mean, how irresponsible can she be? We've told her—"

"Easy, love. Bit's been through a lot."

Buffy looked at him incredulously through tousled strands of blonde. "Is that the soul talking, Spike, or have you just gone soft? I can't remember a time that I wanted to beat Dawn silly and you weren't on board."

"Oh, don't you worry. I plan to wring her moronic little neck if I find her before you do. I'm just saying. This time she was acting on pure emotion. She's not just out looking for a good time and trying to declare her bloody independence; she's upset and hurt, and ..." he swallowed, irritated at having to say these words and sound like such an utter ponce. "And, well, it's my fault, yeah? She's run off because of me, and I owe her one. So I'm going to find her and I'm going to bring her home and I'm probably going to grant her a reprieve for being such a stupid git because I'm still on thin ice with her."

"If she didn't have you in her pocket before, she does now," Buffy remarked. "You're such a pushover." She stood up, fully dressed, and went over to slip her arms around him. She stroked his bare, muscular back, the soft touch sending delicious shivers down his spine and making him want to throw her onto the bed and take her one more time for good measure. But first things first. With a great effort, he pulled away from her to finish dressing.

"All right, let's do this," Buffy said, not bothering to keep the note of pure exasperation from her tone. "I'll call Xander first and see if—"

She was interrupted by the phone. Spike waited while Buffy answered, mentally filling in the gaps of the one-sided conversation.

"Hi, Tara. She is? Yeah, we were just about to … but she's okay, though, right? Tell her to stay put; I'm on my way. What? No, absolutely not. Tell her she may not spend the night there. Because I want her home. Oh, that's funny—she thinks she has a choice? Whoa, wait a second, what was that? Oh-ho-ho, she did not just call me a—Tara, please put my sister on the phone. Okay, then, tell her I heard that, and she's just tacked on another ten years to the consecutive life sentences she's already looking at. Well. Then just tell her I'm on my way to pick her up and she'd better be there when I get there. Do a spell, tie her up, whatever it takes. Thanks, Tara."

Buffy let out a frustrated "Argh" as she hung up the phone. Spike bit back a smirk, not wanting to turn the Slayer's anger in his direction. "I take it the platelet's not feeling quite cooperative at the moment."

Fuming, Buffy turned sharp green eyes on him. "She called me a bitch! Can you freaking believe that? My little Key of a sister called me a bitch. I heard her in the background. And oh, if she thinks there's not going to be hell to pay now…" She looked up at him earnestly, pouting in a way that he found irresistibly endearing. "I am not a bitch, Spike. It's a common misconception."

"I know, pet." He placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her toward him, bending down until their foreheads were touching. Looking up into his eyes had a calming effect, like gazing into tranquil pools of cool blue water. "You stay here. I'll go," he said. "I'll go get her and fill her in on what she missed—well, minus a few key details, mind—and by the time I get her home she'll be falling at your feet to beg forgiveness for being such an insufferable little brat."

Buffy sniffed. "Not bloody likely," she said. "But have at it. I'm not sure we'd make it home without bloodshed if I went."

Spike tilted her face up to his and kissed her firmly, resisting the urge to let his hands greedily wander over her soft flesh because they'd just end up naked again, and he really needed to go get Niblet and try to mend her tattered feelings before she actually hurt someone with that patented Dawn-whine of hers. Stupid presumptuous little twit she was.

But the thought came with a stab of affection.

xXxXx

Tara looked mildly surprised to see him on her doorstep when she opened the door, but she stepped back graciously and said, "Come in, Spike," without his having to remind her that he needed an invitation, so that was all right. He could abide Glinda here better than the rest of them, Red with her wide eyes and ominously blooming ego, Harris with his snide comments and overprotectiveness of Spike's girls—an intrusion Spike resented more than he was willing to admit, lest anyone think bloody Xander of all people was capable of getting under his skin.

He offered Tara a fleeting almost-smile and stepped into her apartment, which smelled predictably of incense and tea and soft, girly things.

"Dawnie," she called. "Come back out here now. It's okay." Glancing at Spike shyly through her long lashes, Tara added softly, "She's pretty upset with Buffy. I had to practically physically restrain her to keep her here after the phone call. She thinks…" She cleared her throat, wanting to proceed carefully, without breaching any of Dawnie's confidences. "She's scared of getting hurt again. I think it's just easier for her to pretend she's angry instead."

Spike shrugged. "'Course she's scared. Probably thinks big sis beat me bloody and then planted a tree in my chest. Well, that's one thing we can clear up now." He raised his voice. "Oi, Bite-size! Front and center."

A moment later she appeared in the darkened hallway, hovering there and eyeing Spike with open suspicion. "What are you doing here? Where's Buffy?"

"Trust me, you stand a greater chance of making it home in one piece with Big Bad than Pissed-off Slayer. You can thank me later. Let's go."

Dawn drew back deeper into the shadows. "I'm not going with you," she said.

He rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "And I'm not askin'. Move your scrawny ass, little girl."

"You can't tell me what to do. Not anymore."

"That so?"

"Yes," she said defiantly. "You lost all say in my life when you left."

Spike looked suddenly weary, almost as old as his years. Tara had managed to slip out of the room so softly that even Spike, with his heightened vampire senses, didn't notice until he glanced around and saw that she was no longer standing behind him.

After a moment to collect himself and rein in his frustration he addressed Dawn again. "I thought we'd moved past this. What, now you're back to hating me?"

"I never stopped."

"Don't you even want to know what happened?"

"No. I don't care. Buffy didn't dust you, I can see that. And I guess you didn't kill her because she was her usual bitchy self on the phone earlier. Anything else, I don't need to know."

"Don't talk about her that way," he scolded automatically. At Dawn's eyeroll, he felt a bright spark of irritation. "You. Sit down. We're going to have ourselves a chat, you and me."

"I told you, I don't want to hear the gory details of your breakup, and how you're leaving town because that's what you do, and how Buffy's going to keep working at the freaking Doublecrap Palace and being miserable and hating her life because that's what she does, and all because you're both too damn stupid to recognize this amazing thing you could have together if you'd just stop being assholes and take it." She paused to take a breath, and Spike studied her thoughtfully, eyebrow raised. She felt his eyes on her but refused to meet his gaze.

"Well you're a smart one, aren't you?" he finally said gruffly. "But only about half as smart as you think." He pointed at her, then the couch. "Sit."

She heaved a great, put-upon sigh and sank down on the soft cushions, glaring up at him. He seemed much taller than he was, sometimes. Usually when he was mad. He looked mad now, with set jaw and blazing eyes, which is why his next words took her off-guard.

"You're right."

Startled, she forgot to hang onto her sulky expression, and it immediately dissolved into one of uncertainty.

"So—so you are leaving." Her voice came out very small.

He knelt down in front of her and took her hands into his strong, cool ones. "No."

"No?"

"That's not what you're right about, Sweet Bit. Just shut your bloody mouth and listen for a change." She had a smart comeback on the tip of her tongue, but the earnestness in his eyes made her hold it in. She sat still, and she listened as he filled her in on his and Buffy's erstwhile reconciliation. When he was finished, there was silence as his words slowly seeped in. She stared at him in awe, one word soaring above the mass of emotions swirling around inside her. A soul.

"Are you—different?" Dawn asked when she trusted her voice enough to form words. "I mean. Are you good, now?"

The thick tension lifted some when he smiled, a real smile, one of the rare, beautiful ones. "Bite your tongue, Bit." A pause, then, "Do you want me to be? Good?"

Her already wide eyes went wider, rounder. "No," she said instantly. "No! I want you to be Spike."

He felt a measure of relief at that, and he took her face between his hands and planted a firm kiss in the middle of her forehead.

"But you and Buffy—? I mean, are you really—? Is it for real this time?"

"Best as I can tell, yeah," he said.

She shook her head. "That's not good enough, Spike. I need to know. Before I believe it, I need to know if this is for real. I can't—not again. It's too hard to watch you guys tear each other apart every day."

He listened and nodded. "I can't make you any promises on your sister's behalf, Niblet. You know that. But I can tell you that I believe it. Never did before. 'S different, this time."

Dawn pondered that for a few moments. "Okay," she said. "Okay, I can accept that." Something struck her then, and she grasped his hand as he stood up. He looked back down at her questioningly. "It wasn't the soul," she blurted out abruptly.

He cocked an eyebrow and said nothing.

"She loved you before. While you were gone. Before you left. She loved you. Soulless you. You should know that."

"Guess maybe I do, now," he said. "Come on, let's get you home. Buffy's waiting to mete out some punishment."

"Spike—"

"Don't worry, if you promise to take my side in the next argument Big Sis and I have I'll toss in a good word for you. We'll enter a plea for leniency."

"Spike—" Dawn interrupted. Embarrassed but determined to get it out, she let the words come tumbling in a rush. "I did too. I mean, I—I didn't hate soulless you, either."

"Good to know, Bit," he said, holding out his hand to her. She took it, and they walked out of Tara's apartment together and started home.

xXxXx

Okay, I confess. I suck at wrapping up stories, especially long ones like this. I'd like to do one more chapter here since I'm never completely satisfied with my endings. So I hope you'll look for that. Till then, thanks for the reviews and encouragement. It really keeps me motivated and makes me update much more regularly than I would otherwise. (I don't write for feedback, but it's definitely the icing on the cake.) And speaking of … please let me know what you think of this chapter. Much appreciated! (One more thing, a shameless plug. If you did like this story, you'd probably like "Hollow Heroes," which is another one that deals heavily with Spike, Buffy, and Dawn. You can link via my bio.)