"Jeez, Spike. Wear reflective gear or something." Xander put his hand over his chest, willing his heart to slow down. The blonde had yet again seemingly appeared from the darkness beside the Summer's home.

"Would defeat the purpose. Don't mind me." Spike leaned up against the tree, absently running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah whatever." Xander continues up the steps and into the warm house. It was chilly for a summer night, and Xander hadn't brought a jacket.

"Hey there Xan." Dawn offered a small smile, and brought him a plate of cookies. They looked good, but… small. Like they hadn't formed the way they should. "I'm learning to bake." Xander took one of the cookies and popped it whole in his mouth. He was able to catch himself from making a sour expression, and gave an encouraging smile instead.

"Very good, Dawny. You keep practicing. Hey, where are you—"

"Gonna give Spike one. Don't worry about me, Willow's upstairs."

Shrugging, Xander headed upstairs.

"What're you doing out in the cold, bit?"

"Could ask you the same. You are able to come inside, you know. Just because… you know, just because Buffy is…" Dawn grabbed the plate with both hands, holding it steady.

"Those cookies, luv?" Spike reached out and took a handful.

"Yeah. Made them myself. They uhh… didn't form right, I think I mixed up table spoons and tea spoons with one of the ingredients, but Xander liked it and I think they're okay."

Spike didn't even flinch when he popped a few in his mouth.

"Very good. Now get back inside and warm up before one of those do-gooders thinks I lured you out here to freeze or some nonsense." Spike leaned back up against the tree and closed his eyes, trying to make it clear to her that he was done with the conversation.

Undeterred, Dawn sat down on the steps adjacent to him.

"It's not that cold."

After a few moments, the warmth she got from the plate of cookies began to dissipate, and she shivered unintentionally.

"In ya go, bit. Don't make me call someone out here to get you." Spike threw the last of a cigarette to the ground and stepped on it.

"You'd tattle?" She looked up disbelievingly.

"You bet I would." Summers women. So incredibly stubborn.

"I'm 14. I can sit outside. It's barely dark. Plus, you're here. What could—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, short stuff. Bloody tempting the fates and all." Spike pulled out another fag, but didn't light it. "Just get your tail inside."

Her jaw set, Dawn instead pushed the cookies around on her plate.

"Do you come here every night?"

The question was sudden, but not totally unexpected. Still holding the unlit fag, Spike kept his eyes down.

"Yeah."

"And… do you stay all night?" Spike couldn't determine what her expression meant.

"Yeah." Carefully ignoring her, he pulled out his lighter unceremoniously. Was she glad or creeped out with this new information?

"Hm." Dawn didn't seem fazed at all, actually. She just absently ate a cookie, and stared up at the stars. When she shivered this time, Spike couldn't take it anymore. He threw his barely-smoked cigarette on the ground and stomped on it on his way to the door.

As he passed dawn, she reached out and grabbed his coat.

"No! I… I don't want to be inside. They're talking about the funeral."

"They're talkin upstairs, Dawn. Go back in the kitchen and make cookies or cakes or stare at the telly." He grabbed the side of his duster and pulled it out of her grasp. "Come on now, nibblet." He added, this time with softness.

"No. Unless you come inside too and talk to me. About… I don't know…stuff." Dawn placed the plate down next to her and drew her knees up to her chest.

Making an exasperated sound, Spike clutched his head momentarily. Thought about risking a few minutes of searing pain by just knocking her out and dragging her inside.

But then… he'd have to go inside.

Sighing, Spike tore off his duster and dropped it on Dawn's head with a distracted 'do what you like.'

Taking his spot back by the tree, Spike reached for his cigarettes before realizing they were in the duster. Dawn slipped it down from off her head, and wrapped it around her shoulders. She was basically swimming in it. She shivered down into it, and leaned against the post, closing her eyes.

Stupid kid. I bet she'd just fall asleep, right there, out in the open, at this time of night. Amazing anyone's kept her alive this long. Got my work cut out for me, I do.

"Do you uh… know what kind of flowers? Like um, are there special wiccan flowers for this kind of thing? Magic decorative flowers that make it all less awful?" Xander was lying on Willow and Tara's bed, staring up at his childhood friend.

He can't help but think about when they were little. Thinks about just the two of them, innocent, just being kids. Can't believe that the same willow he used to comfort after a bully had teased her was now a powerful witch. A powerful witch who he was now helping to plan the funeral of their best friend, the slayer. It was all too much sometimes.

"I… um, yes—well not really magic flowers, but flowers that emit vibes of comfort, I'm not sure what they're called. I'll ask Tara when she gets back."

"Does she have the programs?"

"Yeah. And she was going to get food on her way home, she should be back soon." Willow brushed her hair behind her ear, and leaned her head against the headboard. "Xander, this is so messed up."

"I know, Wills. I know." Sitting up, he took her hands in his own, and gave them a light kiss. It seemed like so long ago now that they were flirting and kissing and acting on crazy, stupid hormones.

Willow was so grateful to have Xander. She loved him to pieces, always had, but… even with Tara, she doesn't think she'd be able to get through this without her Xander.

"I'm lucky to have a friend like you."

"And don't you forget it!" Xander teased, emphasizing it by wagging his finger at her.

"Never."

Spike recognized the sound of Tara's car coming home. He considered just hiding back in the shadows, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. Tara was the first one to really speak to him after everything had happened. She was sweet, that one. Only one of the lot that didn't still suspect him of ulterior motives on occasion. Too innocent and good.

"Oh, h-hey Spike." She lifted her hand in a half-hearted gesture, and closed the driver's door to her car. She then turned and opened up the door to the backseat, revealing several bulky bags. Groceries and take out.

"Need some help?" Tara started to mumble an 'I'm fine' that Spike ignored. He grabbed the remaining bags in the back seat, and closed the car door for her.

"Oh, thanks." Tara started back up to the house, and noticed the sleeping teenager. "Is she s-sleeping?"

"Yeah. Figured I'd leave her until one a you could get her."

"She looks happy. I'll leave her there for now-if, that's okay." She added quickly, measuring Spikes response.

"Whatever." His expression changed from one of boredom to confusion, as he looked down at the bags. "Witch… Why is there blood in one of these bags?" Sniffing the air, he looked at her suspiciously.

"Oh, um, we're uh going to have dinner. I brought it for you in case." Turning, Tara headed inside, carefully stepping over Dawn.

"Well, that's mighty decent of you." Closest to a thanks she'd get.

Tara took it graciously, and smiled up warmly at him.

"Willow! I'm home! Is Xander here?"

"Yeah! We'll be down in a sec!"