"It's math!"
Dawn looked at Spike as if she'd seen a ghost. It made him chuckle.
"Yeah well, I guess maths hasn't changed all that much in the last 100 years, has it?"
She shook her head still unable to process that he wanted to help her with that, but then she got out her maths homework anyway. He looked at what she had written, his eyes narrowed in concentration.
"Here. Got it."
He pointed out the flaw in her equation.
"It's all correct until here, and from here you carried that mistake on through the whole thing. Therefore your result had to be wrong."
He looked up to find her staring at him.
"What?"
"Who are you and what have you done with Spike?"
"What, you thought I was too dumb to understand high school maths?"
"No! I just – I don't know, I didn't think you'd care. It didn't feel like your thing."
He shrugged, a little embarrassed about snapping at her. And she was still looking at him.
"You're way smarter than they know."
He turned away.
"Yeah, well, it's not like they care much."
"Well, I do..."
Something in her voice drew him back to her, made him look into her eyes again. He realized how close they were, closer than ever before, and before he knew it she'd closed her eyes and leaned in, and then her lips met his and he responded. So good, so sweet, so gentle...the tiny little moan the kiss drew from her was like a kick in the head. So wrong!
He pulled back, breaking the kiss.
"Dawn..."
She looked at him, eyes wide. He straightened, putting a little more distance between them.
"I can't. This is wrong. I -"
She looked like she wanted to flee.
"I'm sorry", she choked out, and then she did flee, but Spike was faster. He put himself between her and the door and reached out for her.
"Hey. Where do you think you're going?"
"To find a hole to crawl into and not come out until I'm 80."
"Dawn, listen to me. I'm not what you want."
"Would you stop doing that?"
"What?"
"Treating me like the others do! Like they know what's right for me and I'm the stupid little kid who doesn't have a clue."
"Dawn. Listen to me. You're smart, and brave, and beautiful. There has to be a guy out there who can see that. Who's not undead, and supposed to take care of you. And besides, I can't. I'm still – I mean, there's still -"
When she saw the pain in his eyes she gave him a sad little smile.
"Buffy. She's gone, but you still love her, don't you?"
"Don't you?"
Dawn just kept looking at him, and he could see the tears well up in her eyes.
"C'mere", he breathed and pulled her into his arms. He held her until her sobbing died down, desperately trying to keep his own pain under control. When she had calmed down a little he drew back to look at her.
"Dawn...I do love you, you know that, right?"
She drew a shaky breath.
"This is the part where you tell me we can be friends, and that I'm like a kid sister to you, right?"
He gave her a real smile.
"We are friends, at least that's what I thought. And there's nothing wrong with being my kid sister. In fact you do remind me - "
He stopped mid sentence. It took Dawn a moment, but then she asked:
"Wait a minute. Are you telling me you have a sister? I mean, had? Before..."
"Before I was turned. Yeah. Never told anyone about her. And everyone who knew her is long gone. So. What's the fuss."
"I wanna know, please. How old was she? I mean, how much younger than you?"
He considered not answering her, but eventually he gave in.
"13 years. She would have been a handful at your age. Only she never made it to your age."
Spike realized he had never written a single word about her. Maybe he should.
"She was very sick. She died at the age of eight."
"Oh my God. I'm so sorry, Spike."
"She loved to draw, and she was good." She had always asked him about his poems, wanting to draw something to go along with them, so...
"I made up stories, and she would draw what came to her mind. When she fell ill that was pretty much all she did all day."
They were silent for a long moment, Spike lost in another life, and Dawn unsure what to say. Or more like working up the courage to ask what she wanted to know. Finally she drew a breath.
"What were you like, back then?"
Spike shook his head.
"You don't wanna know."
"Well I just asked, right?"
"You wouldn't have liked the man I was."
He knew she liked him because she thought he was cool, and dangerous. Telling her about the insecure, lonely poet he had been would so blow his cover. It was bad enough that she'd seen him weak because of Buffy.
When it became apparent that he wouldn't say more Dawn pulled herself together.
"OK, I guess I'd better go now. Oh and Spike?"
"Hm?"
"Can we not... talk about, you know? Ever?"
He gave her a soft smile.
"Depends."
"On what?"
Smile gone, he looked at her intensely.
"On whether you're OK."
"I'll live."
"That's not good enough."
"What do you want me to say?"
She sighed.
"I'll get over it. Until then I'd just like to be around you without – you know, things being weird."
His smile was back when he told her they would be OK. And she believed him.