Chapter 6.01
Friday, May 10th, 2002

"Hey, we're right by the gallery."

Spike pulled the car to a halt in front of a florist's shop less than fifty yards from where Buffy's mother had worked.

"Come on, you two, there's someone I want you to meet." Parked as he was, on the shady side of the street, Spike shucked off the sweatshirt and pulled his duster from the back seat of the car, putting it on as he walked over to the entrance. Pulling the door open, he hustled the two girls in, following behind them.

"You didn't tell me she knew mom," Buffy said, her tone slightly sad.

"Sort of expected you to work that out seein' as how the shop was so close to the gallery and your mom gave a bouquet or something to every artist they had an exhibition for. Sorry, pet. I should have warned you. What about you, Bit? You were pretty quiet back there."

"I'm good, just so long as I get first dibs on the shower and Buffy helps me with my make-up." Dawn replied.

"Helps you with your make-up, or helps you with her make-up?" asked the blonde in a sceptical tone of voice.

"Hey, I didn't know when I packed that I'd be sorta seeing someone tonight. Pleease. And my hair. It'll buy you one week of bible study."

"Okay. Okay. When you put it like that, I guess I'm cornered. But if I've got this right then Spike owes us both."

"I don't owe you anything for no bible study, not when you're the one who wanted the church do. You owe me for tea with the vicar and forthcoming chats about the sanctity of marriage. I thought you realised I was a bottle blond."

"Hey," Buffy protested on behalf of natural blondes everywhere.

"Yeah, right, love. Like your hair just naturally changed from the colour it was when we first got engaged to the colour it is now. And you've been leaving it long enough between treatments lately for the roots to show now and again. Not to mention the fact I can smell the peroxide on you for about half a week after you get it done, even over the smell of mine."

"Busted," came the voice from the back seat of the car.

Buffy shrugged. "Riley believed it was natural."

'Well,' thought Spike, 'the only certainty there, is that one of the two of them's deluded.'

"Can't we just agree not to mention your ex until he's back in town and we can do something about him?" he asked.

"Whatya goin' to do with Riley? I thought he was okay now, right?" Dawn asked.

"Probably not." Buffy sighed. "We think his story might have been a cover so that him and Sam could get the eggs."

"But Spike had the eggs, didn't you?" Dawn sounded confused.

"Long story. Buffy can fill you in while she does your hair," Spike answered. "Boils down to Captain America's an arse-hole." 

The car pulled up at the front of Spike's building again and Spike suggested that Buffy give her keys to Dawn so that she could get a head start on her shower, while the couple took their time.

"Pet, it occurs to me that if Dawn didn't know about Cardboard, then I doubt we told the watcher either." Spike shrugged his way out of the duster, donning the sweatshirt for his walk into the building. "Thing is, all we have is conjecture, basically, but if we're right, Giles should know. The problem with that is, if we're right, depending whether he's acting independently or for the government, there's a fair to middling chance they could be keeping tabs on all of us somehow. 'Course I should have thought of it before, but, hey, if Warren and his dwarves could manage it. how much easier would it be for Golden Boy? And Giles' phone. I mean, anything big, you tell Giles, right?

But then there's also the possibility we're way off base, and the whole thing is a pile of bollocks, which, would, of course, make me a paranoid old git," Spike admitted ruefully.

"Only, when we're talking about whatever quasi-Initiative group that Riley's with, can we afford not to be?"

"Love, would you say lover boy was surprised when he found you in my crypt?" The vampire sounded contemplative.

Buffy cast her mind back. "No, I don't think he was. I don't think he was at all. And he knew I was at DMP. How'd he know I was working there? And my hair, he said he loved my hair, but I could have had it cut like that for more than a year for all he should have known, and it was in a ponytail. I mean how much can you tell about someone's hair when it's in a ponytail. I wouldn't say I liked someone's haircut without seeing it loose, never mind say I luvved it." Buffy twisted up her mouth as she said the last two words, the expression very reminiscent of her liquor face, only, this time Spike didn't find it cute that something left a bad taste in her mouth. "It's almost like he knew why I cut it. Like he was working on scoring points with me against you. Spike, I think you can officially colour me freaked."

"Don't blame you, pet. Not feelin' right peaceful at the minute, m'self. Best go catch up with little sis, and for now, I think we've got to think very carefully about what we say and where we say it. I'm kinda wonderin' how far vengeance demons can teleport and whether Anya could do it." Spike opened his door and Buffy took this as her cue to get out too, waiting while the vampire locked up before walking into the building arm in arm.

Buffy quickly came to a decision. "I think we need to get everybody together some place they just can't have staked out. We need to discuss this."

"I'll see if the restaurant can change the booking to a table for seven. You ring the others say it's so you can sort out getting dresses and stuff and it's a thank you, but don't say where we're going just say I'll pick up the witches and Harris can follow in their car. That way they should all get a nice surprise." The pair had just got to the top of the first flight of stairs when Spike stopped dead. "Buffy, I've just remembered I've got a problem with the battery on my phone. I better go find a call box. Don't do anything till I get back." He pushed his duster and keys into her hands and headed back out.

More than half convinced he was being paranoid, Spike phoned up an entirely different restaurant, and booked a table for eight. He let the booking at the more popular restaurant he'd made under the name Summers stand. The new booking was made under the name of Alex Ferguson, but then he was fairly certain in Giles' absence no one on this side of the Atlantic was going to recognise it as the name of Manchester United's manager. Not in time to do anything about it, anyway. Then, just to confuse matters he made a few more phone calls, one to an import/export firm down by the docks, another five to different restaurants around the town, making reservations for parties of anywhere between six and ten people, and six to eateries that were already fully booked.

He followed this up with a call to the LA field office of the FBI, requesting to be transferred to an agent mentioned in some recent press coverage who, as it turned out, was very polite to the student who wanted to include her case as part of his thesis. She did point out that information in the case was still restricted so she couldn't help. Spike didn't care about anything except the fact the call was long enough to worry Finn if he ever found out. Then, putting as much change in as he could he dialled a gay chat-line and left the receiver off the hook as he walked away. Let the bastards trace the calls from that phone box now, for all the good it would do them.

By the time Spike made it back to the flat, both the girls had finished in the shower and dried their hair. Buffy had thought to bring a robe, the ivory satin making her tan look darker than it normally did. Dawn was still swathed in one of his white bath sheets. The first stage of the makeover was obviously completed because her hair billowed around her head in gentle waves instead of its normal straight lines. Buffy was evidently in the process of sorting through her make-up bag to see which of her cosmetics would best suit Dawn's paler colouring, judging by the array that was spread around her on the bed.

Spike actually looked weary when he made his way through to where the women were and Buffy rose to meet him just inside the doorway, her hands resting against his chest as she stood on tiptoe for a kiss. When she dropped back onto the flat of her feet, he smiled down but for once it didn't seem to reach his eyes.

He pushed a hand through his still partially gelled hair before he spoke. "Just going to get my turn in the shower, pet. Everything's sorted, if you want to ring your mates. If you tell them we'll meet up quarter to eight, eight o'clock-ish, we hopefully won't be running out on Lily as soon as we get there, but we'll have to get a move on." He brushed his lips against Buffy's cheek and gave Dawn a smile that was a poor imitation of the norm and turned toward the bathroom. Buffy hesitated as to whether she should follow him and regretted it when she heard the bolt snap into place, a first as far as she was aware. She waited until she heard the sound of the water running and the subtle change that indicated he had stepped under it, before she returned to choosing make-up for her sister.

Spike stood under the stream of water, oblivious to the pink tinge his skin was taking on. His arms were braced against the wall, holding him upright as slow tears fell from his eyes indiscernible from the steaming spray. Helplessness, frustration and loss warred within him as he faced the enormity of where his thoughts had led him.

If the government had been observing the Scoobies for any length of time, it was only realistic to assume they knew Dawn was the Key. As such, she was a potential threat, one they had to either control or eliminate. Either way there was a very good chance he was going to lose both the women he loved, and as long as he had the chip he was worthless in this fight.

Falling in love with the slayer had always been like living on borrowed time. He knew, in his bones, that sooner rather than later, he would see her returned to her grave. He had thought when that day came, Dawn and he would stand side by side in their grief. Now, it seemed far more likely that he would mourn both of them together. He couldn't protect them and condemned by his word to Buffy, he couldn't even end his existence.

They might make their move tonight or they might just watch and wait for years. If they realised the Scoobies knew they were being watched, that could even be the trigger that would cause them to act.

Buffy might come to this conclusion herself in time, but there was no way he was going to do anything to bring it to her attention. If he did, then the fear would just eat away at her insides while she waited and waited, just like it was doing to him.

He was going to fail them, again.

It didn't take Buffy long to do Dawn's make up. Her skin was flawless and using a base would only dull its healthy glow. All that was really needed was a light dusting of eyeshadow and some pale lip-gloss. Dawn had insisted on waiting for Spike to come out the shower to do her mascara after she accused Buffy of trying to poke her eye out.

This left the older girl free to do her own five-minute make-up job and get dressed. As a concession to the fact she couldn't get too dressed up, she was once again wearing Spike's favourite skirt. Her white strappy top had concealed under-wiring, so she didn't need a bra and she had decided, in the interest of preserving the underwear that remained to her, that she would forego panties tonight. Based on Spike's reaction the last time she wore that skirt, she anticipated some fairly urgent action tonight, probably the first time they were alone for five minutes out of range of teenage ears and eyes.

She still had phone calls to make, but she'd hoped that Spike would have made it out of the shower by now. After his subdued entrance and the way he shut her out of the bathroom for the first time, she hadn't really expected it, but she had hoped. She paused to listen to the unvarying susurration of the falling water before knocking gently on the door.

"Spike," she fumbled searching her mind for some endearment that wouldn't sound false, something she'd maybe called him at least once. She failed. She'd never once called him love, or honey, or darling. It was like some part of her refused to be that open in her affections, even now, when she knew he needed it, and then it clicked. "Will, are you okay in there? Can I come in?"

Suddenly the sound of the running water changed. He was moving again under the stream.

"Just a second, I'll get the door." Spike automatically swiped at his cheeks as if to wipe away the tears, before he reached over, to undo the bolt. "It's open."

Buffy didn't know any other way to do this so she used the sledgehammer method. "What's up? You weren't happy when you left, but even I can tell you were less happy when you got back."

He couldn't lie to her. It never worked. Maybe with enough time to think it through, he could figure a way to let her know part of it, without bringing up the question of the Key. "It's complicated, pet, and we haven't got time, right now, to start going into detail." As he spoke he went through the motions of shampooing his hair.

"Okay, you're off the hook, but only till everyone goes their separate ways tonight.

I've still got to call everybody and Dawn wants you to do her mascara, but other than that we're ready to go. She says, at least you won't try to poke her eye out. Another of your hidden talents?"

Spike shrugged, slathering a large blob of conditioner over his otherwise badly treated hair, leaving it on while he quickly soaped the rest of his body. "You learn a lot when you spend a century lookin' after a woman who can't look after herself.

Look, I guess I kinda spaced out for a bit. If you fetch me a clean shirt, some jeans, some socks 'n' me good boots I should be done by the time you look them out. Only thing is, you might have a problem finding a shirt that still has all its buttons."

Normally, watching him do anything shirtless, let alone naked had her yearning to jump his bones. She was just realising that, even more than the perfect body, what really pressed her buttons was the attitude. He was irresistible, because he believed he was and especially because he made her feel like she was too.

He knew that, unlike ninety nine percent of the population, he looked better naked than clothed and he flaunted it, for those he wanted that type of attention from. For now the attitude seemed to have taken a vacation. In fact, at last, Buffy could honestly say she knew what Spike's penis looked like when it was totally flaccid.

She didn't even think he'd noticed the skirt. It sounded really selfish, but the fact that something had knocked him so far off kilter that she was no longer foremost in his thoughts, made her more than a little worried. It also made her realise how much she took his feelings for granted. So she simply told him, "Sure," and resolved that whatever it was, they would find time to talk it through before the night was over.

She went through to the bedroom quickly finding the items of clothing he'd requested, although as he'd warned when she looked through the shirts hanging up in the wardrobe, all her favourite ones were missing several buttons. He had none in either blue or black left, or at least not there and clean. She made do with one of his red ones, realising she couldn't remember him wearing any of them since that day he'd sung for her. Changing her mind about letting him tell her in his own time she delegated the job of phoning the Scoobies to Dawn, also telling her if she was a long time with Spike to find Spike's cell-phone and ring this Lily person to apologise for being late. She headed back to the bathroom with her booty piled in her arms.

Her teeth made indents in her lower lip as she slipped through the bathroom door to find him waiting for her. His hair was still damp, but had obviously been gelled and combed back, his torso and legs were still dotted with beads of moisture and a towel hung around his waist. He was giving his teeth another quick brush as part of his pre-going out routine. Even so, he managed to say something that approximated to, "Thanks, pet," despite a mouthful of toothbrush and foam. She sat down with her back to the door and her feet braced against the side of the tub, watching as he finished up and rinsed, not bothering with his demon fangs this time.

"Will, I do sort of want to let you tell me what's bothering you in your own time. Only, part of me thinks that wouldn't be the best idea in the world, because this is the closest I've ever seen you to brooding like the Poof, as you would say," she started tremulously, even her attempt at goading him into a response uttered with anything but confidence.

"Thanks, pet." He gave her a sad half-smile. "I didn't realise that there was a way I could feel worse about things without someone dyin'."

"Now there's no way you get out of this bathroom without telling me what's got feeling you like that."

"'S nothing, slayer. Just me feelin' like a wanker 'cause when the shit hits the fan there'll be bugger all that I can do to help. Worse than nothin. I'll be a bloody liability, not even able to look after m'self."

She patted the floor next to her, waiting for him to take a seat before she rebutted his argument. "Spike, I don't think you're a liability." She shifted so they sat hip to hip, intertwining the finger of her hand with his. "You've helped out before when we've had to deal with humans. If it wasn't for you I would have got a sword through my skull when we had those knights after us. You got the orbs off Warren. Without you, we'd have walked in there blind and got our butts kicked."

"Pet, you know that if I hadn't been around to translate that passage, Red would've bunged it through some translation software. And any one of the others could've done what I did in the fight. And the reason I wasn't a liability when you took on the knights that go "ni" was because back then you didn't give a toss whether I lived or died.

You said yourself this morning, that you and Dawn would both try to protect me. 'N' yeah, if we're talkin' about you takin' on half a dozen unarmed guys, I won't like it, but I'll deal. When we're talkin' about situations where there's a chance of you or Bit getting' hurt, I want you to promise me you'll let me take my own chances."

"Spike, it won't come to that. If they let us just get on with things after the whole Adam mess, they're not going to come after us now. It's not like we're a threat to National Security or any-" Buffy stopped mid-word when she noticed the way his jaw muscles were suddenly twitching. "Spike, wha- Dawn, you think they know Dawn's the Key."

Spike bowed his head, his gaze focussed on his upraised knees, his words spoken in a hushed and deathly serious tone. "I think if they knew about us when the Scoobies didn't, there's not much hope they haven't heard somebody say something about the Bit ...and I think the second she ever seems to be anything more than a normal teenager they'll want to either control her or kill her. And I think you would let them kill you first."

Buffy used her free hand to grasp the vampire's chin, forcing his head around until they locked eyes. "And I know if that was what it took, that a certain pig-headed master vampire would be standing right next to me, at the very least, blocking their way to her. And more than likely beating them through the pain. If we go down, we'll go down together.

And as far as we can tell it's a moot point anyway, because Dawn is a perfectly normal teenager."

"That's what we're goin' to have to hope, pet, but in Sunnyhell, what turns out how you want it to?"

"We did," answered Buffy before she pressed her lips to his, her hand moving from his chin to cup his cheek. "All we can do now is bring everyone up to speed and then wait and see. There's no point worrying over 'could happen's and 'might be's or we'll smother her." She shifted so that they rested forehead to forehead, looking straight into each other's eyes. "Capisce?"

"Capisce, love" he responded with an amused smile, before he mounted a counter attack on her mouth, that ended some minutes later with them horizontal on the bathroom floor and Spike's towel having been dislodged early in the proceedings.

"Now I know you're feeling better," teased Buffy as her eyes travelled the length of his body. "But we've got places to be and people to ...meet."

"Shit! Lily." Spike made a grab for the pile of clean clothes, pulling on garments with no apparent logic other than the order that they came to hand, first a sock, then his shirt, then his jeans and finally the other sock. He pulled his belt from the loops of his discarded jeans and transferred over some odds and ends to the pockets of the clean pair, then exited the bathroom even as he fixed his belt into position. Two steps later, he went back for his boots.