Note: this is a good time for a reminder that this story has a blanket warning for canon-typical violence.
Buffy found herself laying awake late a lot the next several nights. It wasn't for slaying reasons– her friends had covered Slayer-duty very effectively while she and Dawn were spending some much-needed sisterly grieving time. Well, it wasn't exactlyfor slaying reasons, but it was Slayer-related. She was worrying more and more that being the Slayer was making her cold, turning her into nothing more than a cold-blooded hunter like she was supposed to be protecting people from.
After all, hadn't she driven away Riley? And been horrible to Dawn? The thought that haunted her the most, the one she tried to push away and hide from, was the nagging worry that her mother had died not knowing how much Buffy had loved her.
When she brought her concerns to Giles, adding that she was thinking about taking a break from slaying, he paused, cleaning his glasses in a very Giles-y way. "How serious are you about this?"
"Ten. I'm serious to the amount of ten."
He hummed. "There is something… in the Watchers' diaries… a quest."
"A quest? Like with grails and dragons and stuff?" she asked, tilting her head.
Giles coughed to hide a smile behind his hand. "Not a grail. Or–or a dragon. Maybe answers. It may take a day or two, though."
Buffy's heart sank. "I can't leave Dawn right now. Not with Glory looking for her."
"Sure you can," Dawn chirped, coming around the corner to throw herself onto the couch with her sister. "What's the deal?"
The Watcher addressed her: "Some Slayers before Buffy found it helpful in... regaining their focus, learning more about their role. There's a sacred place in the desert. It's not far."
"But it's not important, because I can't go. I won't leave you, Dawn," Buffy said firmly.
Dawn looked thoughtful. "Buffy… If you have to go learn… if it'll help your Slaying, then I think you should go. I'll be fine, I'll hang out with the gang." A smile spread across Giles' face, and Buffy threw her arm around her younger sister.
"I love you Dawn. You know that, right?"
She stood in the desert, Giles left far in the distance, though she could swear the faint sound of his chanting could still be heard. A growl drew her attention, and Buffy turned to see a mountain lion staring directly at her.
"Nice kitty," she said must be the guide Giles was telling me about.
As the lion turned to walk away, Buffy followed, and they passed together through a tunnel of stone that led to a new patch of desert full of small bushes. This one was familiar, she realized, having been here when she encountered the First Slayer.
She found a comfortable perch on a rock, and settled in to wait.
After a time, she must have dozed off, because when her eyes opened again, the sky was dark and there was a fire lit in front of her. A familiar face watched her through the flames.
"I know you. You're the First Slayer," Buffy said softly.
"This is a form. I am the Guide."Oh, so not the kitty, then.
"I have a few questions about being the Slayer. What about… love? Not just like… boyfriend love."
The Guide blinked at her. "You think you're losing your ability to love."
"I-I didn't say that," she objected. "But yeah."
"You fear that being the Slayer means losing your humanity."
Buffy frowned. "Does it?"
"You are full of love. You love with all of your soul. It's brighter than the fire. Blinding. That's why you pull away from it," the Guide told her.
"I-I'm full of love? I'm not losing it?" Buffy asked, hope filling her chest.
The Guide nodded. "Only if you reject it. Love is pain, and the Slayer forges strength from pain. Love, give, forgive. Risk the pain. It is your nature. Love will bring you to your gift."
"I-I'm sorry, I'm a little confused. I'm full of love, which is nice, and love… will lead me to my gift?" she asked, head cocked.
"Yes."
"I'm getting a gift? Or–or do you mean that I have a gift to give to someone else?"
The flames flickered across the Guide's face as they answered: "Death is your gift."
He was just rounding out his evening patrol, having successfully avoided Harris and his girlfriend as they made their own patrol route. It had been an uneventful night, though he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been watched. Coming back to the Hawley mausoleum, he found the door slightly ajar and slid a stake into his hand, remembering the last surprise visitor he'd had.
What he found instead was Dawn Summers perched atop the sarcophagus, clad in pajamas and slippers and holding a bottle of pink nail polish.
He grinned and shed his duster, tossing it over his armchair and pausing to grab a small bottle from a shelf before hopping up to sit with her. "If we're doing nails under my roof, Little Bit, we're using my colour," he said, presenting the bottle of black polish.
After a good bit of negotiating, Spike had agreed to Dawn painting one single nail on each of his hands pink, as long as she let him paint one on each of her hands black. It seemed like a fair compromise, even if he did still have to sport pink nail polish. Dawn seemed delighted with the deal, and that was enough for him.
"Right then, what brings the Little Summers to Restfield so late? Where's big sis?" he asked as he carefully swiped the last bit of baby pink polish across Dawn's nail and screwed the cap back on.
"She's off on some Slayer quest thing. I'm staying at Xander's place, and Willow and Tara were supposed to be watching me but I pretended to be asleep and snuck out when they were too busy watching some documentary on the Salem Witch Trials," she responded, rolling her eyes.
Spike snorted. "Modern witches are always so obsessed with bloody Salem. They weren't even real witches– ask Harris' girl about it, I'd reckon she was there." Trying to play it off as casual interest, he added: "Slayer quest, hey?"
"Mm hmm," Dawn answered. "Something about refocusing and learning about being the Slayer. I dunno. Giles took her out into the desert somewhere, they said they'd be gone a day or two. She didn't want to leave me, but I told her to go. It's important, you know?"
He nodded, glancing up and catching her eyes. "And how've you been doing with everything?"
Dawn grimaced. "It's… hard. I miss Mom. We all do. And Buffy's trying so hard to take care of everything, but she wasn't ready for this either. She just turned 20, she's not ready to be a mom to a teenager. Plus she's the Slayer on top of everything. And she has school but I don't think she even goes to class anymore," she took a deep breath. "But… I think we'll be okay. It'll take a while, but we'll be alright."
"Glad to hear it. You know you can ask me for anything you need, yeah?" he said, pouring as much sincerity as he could into his words.
The girl smiled. "I know, thanks Spike. How are you doing? I know you cared about Mom too, and she always called you her friend."
He'd known Joyce to be a kind and generous woman, but hearing that she'd referred to him as a friend surprised him. Coughing to hide the lump in his throat, he blinked back sudden tears. "Oh, uh, I'm alright. Miss the bird though. Good chats we had. Made the best cocoa, she did."
At the mention of Joyce's cocoa, the youngest Summers burst into tears, and Spike moved to sit beside her and wrap an arm around her shoulders, letting her sob into his t-shirt. "There, there, Nibblet. Let it out."
Spike found himself feeling incredibly protective of the girl in his arms. And not in the way he'd wanted to protect Drusilla from harm, or the way he wanted to make sure Buffy was safe. He had never had siblings, never had family aside from his mother, but Spike assumed that this was how it must feel to want to protect a younger sibling.
Later, when Dawn's tears had subsided and she'd started apologizing, despite his insistence that she needn't, Spike decided it was high time to get her back to her safe and cozy bed. "Come on then, let's get you back before the witches find you missing and get their knickers in a knot."
As it turned out, it was a bit late for that, as the Scoobies were in an uproar when Spike and Dawn arrived at the apartment. Spike hovered on the doorstep, unable to enter, but cleared his throat and gestured to Dawn. "Missing somethin'?"
"Dawn!" came the collective shout of relief, though Spike noticed Harris was missing.
"Where were you?" Anya demanded.
"I just… I needed to get some air. And I wanted to visit Spike," she answered, staring at the floor. Spike felt a squeeze in his chest at her words.
Tara came forward and wrapped Dawn in a hug, pulling her inside. "We're just so glad you're okay, Dawnie. We were so worried. Xander went out looking for you when we realized you weren't here. We were scared you might run into Glory, and none of us can fight her, Dawn."
"I know, I'm sorry," Dawn said. "I won't sneak away again. I just wanted to check on Spike."
He was left to puzzle over that statement as the others pulled Dawn inside and closed the door in his face unceremoniously. Sighing, he turned and started down the hall and back outside towards his home.
This time when he found his crypt door ajar, he wasn't surprised by who was waiting for him. "Where's Dawn, Spike?"
"Tried lookin' at home, mate? Last I saw she was all cozied up with the other ladies over there," Spike answered casually, brushing past Xander to fetch the bottle of bourbon that sat beside his armchair.
The younger man narrowed his eyes and stalked forward, jabbing an accusing finger into Spike's chest. "Look, Captain Peroxide. I know you've got some sort of weird obsession with Buffy, but you need to back off her and Dawn. They're going through a lot lately, and I won't have you taking advantage or messing with their heads."
A spark of outrage ignited in him, and Spike's voice was dangerously low and even as he spoke. "Boy, I've lived longer than your grandfather. I've seen cities fall. I've seen more loss and grief than you could ever imagine. These ladies just lost their mum, something I've actually experienced, and if Dawn, or even Buffy, wants to come to me for comfort, then I'm not going to turn them away. I'm not a monster."
With forced bravado, Xander retorted: "Yes, youarea monster. Vampires are monsters. They make monster movies about them."
"Yeah, you got me there," Spike snorted, his mood lightening slightly, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.
Harris sighed. "I just… Buffy has a lot of friends, you know? And we'll do what it takes to protect her. And if that means dusting you, well…" he shrugged.
"I'd kill you to protect her too, mate, no worries," Spike said, taking a long swig from the bottle in his hands and offering it to the man in front of him. Despite the threat in Spike's words, they seemed to satisfy Xander and he accepted the drink with a nod.
A small shadow fell across the entrance to the crypt, and both men turned to see a short figure with scabbed skin and beady black eyes staring at them. "Gentlemen!" the figure called as more demons filed in behind him. "I'm so sorry to intrude, but I wondered if I might beg a moment of your time."
"Friend of yours?" Spike asked Xander, brows raised. "Guess not," he added as the tiny figure scrambled forward and landed a blow to the man's stomach. Feeling oddly protective of their newfound understanding, Spike decided to defend the boy, kicking out at the odd little creature as Xander struggled to his feet.
He'd later claim that the two of them put up a rather good fight, but the truth of it was that the sheer number of the scabby little freaks overwhelmed them rather quickly, knocking Xander unconscious with a strike to the head and capturing Spike by his arms.
"Tie his hands! Glory will want him restrained."
At the mention of the hell-bitch, Spike struggled harder. "Let me go!"
"Careful with him. She will want the key intact," the demon insisted.
His eyes widened. "Key? Who's a key? I'm not the–" his words were cut off as a piece of cloth– which tasted disgusting, he might add– was shoved into his mouth, and he was carried off into the night.
"Stunning one, we believe he is…the Key!" the demons announced as they carried him into a fancy apartment.
The goddess smiled and walked over. "Really? That's fantabulous! And… impossible," she added, circling Spike. "He can't be the Key, because the Key has to bepure." She sniffed at him and he shuddered. "This… is a vampire. Lesson number one, boys. Vampires equal impure."
She removed the gag in his mouth and rolled her eyes. "You can't even brain suck a vampire. He's completely useless," she complained, walking away from him.
"So, I'm just gonna let myself out then," Spike said, pulling at the bonds that held his arms and moving to leave.
He was stopped quickly by one of the little demons, who protested. "But–but Your Holiness, we observed the Slayer and her friends as you requested. Many of her friends and even her sister have been seen coming and going from his dwelling. Even the Slayer herself has made visits to the vampire. They have all slain other vampires but allow this one to live. They treat him as precious."
Glory hummed. "Precious, huh?" She shoved the demon out of the way to look at Spike again. "Well let's take a peek at you, precious."
He sneered. "Sod off."
She laughed, swinging her fist into his face. Spike crashed into a wall several feet behind him and slid down it. He felt the trickle of blood from his nose and could taste the blood from his split lip. "Hmm. Doesn't look very fancy to me," Glory remarked, looking down at him before reaching out and grabbing him by the hair to pull him upright. "But if the Slayer is protecting him, maybe appearances are deceiving."
He was tossed onto a bed with his still-tied hands painfully pinned underneath him. Glory crawled up his body to sit just above his hips and look down at him with curiosity.
"Maybe there's something on the inside," she said, and plunged a sharp fingernail into his torso. Spike cried out in agony as she leaned over him, her weight pressing the point further into him. "Shhhh. What do you know, precious? What can we dig out of you?"
author's note:
It was a fun challenge trying to figure out how to get Spike kidnapped and make everything make sense without involving the BuffyBot, but I was adamant that this Spike would definitely not be building a sex robot of Buffy.