Chapter Text
“Mom! I’m headed out!” Buffy yelled from the front entryway. Dawn rolled her eyes because it wasn’t like Buffy was cool or anything, with her leather jacket and her dangly earrings and the weapons hidden Dawn couldn’t figure out where. She was just going to hang out with her boyfriend and be gross and then walk around in cemeteries all night. Not like that was interesting at all.
“Have fun!” Mom called back. “And be safe!”
“Yeah, don’t go into any creepy castles,” Dawn added with a smug grin. Because Buffy had totally gotten lured in by Dracula (and okay, maybe Mom had too, but Mom was normal—Buffy was supposed to be better, and she wasn’t, so there).
Buffy glared at Dawn, but it wasn’t like she could do anything to Dawn with her freakazoid strength. Dawn pushed her tongue to the roof of her mouth to keep from sticking it out. She was way too old for that now. Besides, it was funny to watch Buffy be totally stuck with no way to respond. Her cheeks puffed out like an angry chipmunk’s.
“You’re so lucky you were at Janice’s when Mom let him in.” Buffy’s voice was low and kind of dangerous, but Dawn had been hearing that tone for years.
“Whatever. I’m sure I would’ve been fine. You’re the one who's all about creepy pale old guys.” Dawn tossed her hair over her shoulder, because she wasn’t gloating (okay, she totally was, but like she couldn’t let Buffy know that). She did catch Buffy’s flinch, though, as she turned away. Haha! Extra points to Dawn!
Dawn did make sure to get back to Mom in the kitchen before Buffy could say anything back, though. Because Dawn was super smart and knew that while she couldn’t outrun Buffy in a footrace, she could get the heck out of Buffy’s verbal firing line.
The door slammed behind Buffy, making the paintings rattle against the wall and Mom wince. Dawn’s tummy twisted a little at that. All summer Mom had been having headaches, but they seemed to be getting worse. Maybe she shouldn’t have teased Buffy so much? But like, Buffy was so smug and special and, like… Dawn was at home with Mom and sure there was bookclub and being Punkin-belly, but it felt so… small. Sometimes Dawn felt like she was pushing against the edges of herself. Her arms were pushing and pushing and pushing, but nothing was moving, but she knew she could be more. Even if she didn’t know what more was, she just knew she could be… more.
But Mom was at the kitchen counter, one hand to her temple, and the other curled around a steaming cup of tea.
Dawn chewed on her lip. Should she apologize to Mom? She wasn’t sorry about messing with Buffy, but making Mom have a headache—
There was a heavy creak on the back porch steps and the sharp ting of a rock at the kitchen door’s window.
Mom sighed, sliding off the barstool, and opened the door. Dawn peered around Mom to see Spike standing in the grass, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets (and now Spike, he had a really cool leather coat. Buffy should take notes). Mom leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest.
“I’m sorry Spike,” she said with a sigh, “But I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to come in tonight. Buffy’s still not happy that I invited Dracula in.”
Dawn frowned, because that wasn’t Mom’s fault! Dracula had powers!
Spike snorted. “Slayer shouldn’t be on you about that. Old Drac’s got those gypsy powers and a thrall like a hammer.”
“Spike…”
“He’s right though, Mom!” Dawn protested, wiggling her way under Mom’s arm and wrapping her own arm around Mom’s middle. “It’s totally not fair of Buffy to be upset with you.”
“Buffy’s not upset with me, sweetheart.” Mom gently patted Dawn’s hair and sounded so nice and reasonable, and Dawn thought Mom was being way too nice to Buffy. “She’s worried about me—about us. She needs us to be safe.”
Dawn met Mom’s eyes. They were so soft and understanding, even with the pain pinches in the corners. Dawn didn’t get it, but maybe it was a Mom thing? Although, if Dawn ever had a kid who was as annoying as Buffy one day, she might look into selling them to the circus. Buffy was a freak enough to be in one.
“I’ll be off, then,” Spike said. He’d already taken a step back, further into the night.
“Spike,” Mom said his name the same way she did Dawn’s when Dawn didn’t want to talk about school. “Is there a reason you came by tonight?” The question made him stop walking away. It wasn’t often that Spike came around. Not at all over the summer, while Buffy had been at home from school. But once or twice last year, after the chip (and Dawn still remembered that call she’d gotten from Buffy, back when the whole Will-be-Done spell had happened—even if Dawn hadn’t known it was a spell at the time—and for a whole night Dawn had been excited because she was going to be Buffy’s maid of honor and Spike was looking forward to having a little sister to spoil, and he’d called her Lil’ Bit and it had felt like having a whole family), well, he’d come around when Dawn had been home. Dawn had been sent upstairs, but she’d sat on the top step and tried to listen. She hadn’t heard anything though, not anything cool. The time he’d come around during Buffy’s senior year, she’d been at Janice’s for a sleep over (and thank God for that, because that was also the night they all found out Angel was back, and no thank you from Dawn about him).
But the first memory Dawn had of Spike was peering at him from between the railings on the stairs and being spotted by the freaky punk who was sitting awkwardly while Mom drank wine and Buffy was freaking about Willow, and Dawn just wanted Angelus gone. Dust. Never able to hurt Buffy ever ever again. And Spike… he’d promised to help get rid of all that. He’d spotted her, of course. Dawn knew now that he’d either heard her or smelled her. He hadn’t told on her though. Just put a finger to his lips and winked. She’d fled back upstairs, but the whole thing had stayed with her.
Spike was okay. For a vampire.
And he liked Mom. Which was only right, because she was Mom.
Spike shrugged, head tilting away from Mom and her super seeing Mom-vision. Dawn could sympathize.
“No reason, just been a ‘mo, is all. And it’s getting cooler. Fancied a cuppa.”
Mom hummed and then gently disentangled herself from Dawn before putting the kettle on to make cocoa. Dawn perked up and dashed to help, getting down three mugs before hopping up on the counter to get the mini-marshmallows down. The door stayed open while she and Mom made up the cocoa, and Spike stayed outside. He could come in, Dawn knew. Buffy had never gotten the dis-invite done for him, which to Dawn said something. Buffy claimed there was no point, because of the chip in his head, but like. He could totally start a fire in the basement and kill them all or sneak arsenic into their food to poison them. Dawn might not be the all powerful Slayer, but she wasn’t stupid.
Cocoa made, Mom put the mugs on the tray but before she could carry them out, Dawn picked up the tray.
“Dawn, honey.” Mom’s voice was stretched tight for some reason, and her hand reached out to pull at Dawn’s elbow.
“It’s just Spike, Mom,” Dawn said (earning an insulted Oi! from outside, but Spike didn’t charge into the house and threaten her or anything, so she was totally right), “and you’ve got a headache.”
The frowny line between Mom’s eyebrows went away, and she sighed. “Alright, but—”
“I’ll be careful,” Dawn agreed before Mom could finish the reminder.
The tray wasn’t even that heavy, and Dawn carefully picked her way down the porch steps and offered the local non-murderous vampire a mug of cocoa. He was watching Mom, though, with a frown of his own now.
“Headaches?” he asked with an arch of his eyebrow. The cool one with the scar in it.
“It’s nothing. Too much time with a computer, I suspect,” Mom said, waving away the headache. Spike’s bright eyes flickered to Dawn, though she didn’t know why. Dawn wasn’t why Mom was having headaches. It was Buffy. It was always Buffy, one way or another.
“Ta, Bit.” Spike picked up one mug by the rim. He shifted it between his hands, took a deep sniff of the steam and—his eyes narrowed at Dawn. A flutter (not a scared one!) went off behind her ribs, like bird wings. Of course, that was when her new strawberry deodorant totally stopped working and she suddenly got sweaty pits. Gross. She went back up the porch stairs quickly and offered Mom the second mug. Mom took it and smiled.
“Thank you, honey.” Mom cradled the mug in her hands, like her fingers were cold, and leaned against the side of the house. “I hope this is up to standard.”
Spike took a long sip, eyes tracking Dawn as she stood in the doorway. Maybe Buffy should have disinvited Spike before now? The way he was looking at her, she didn’t like it. It was too… too much attention. Not like creepy old guy attention, she didn’t think? Though, Spike was pretty. Not even pretty-for-a-guy, but actually pretty with the cheekbones and the eyes and the hair, but—she didn’t like the idea of it being that kind of attention. It made the spot between her shoulderblades prickle.
“I helped,” Dawn added, and then mentally kicked herself. Why had she done that? That only called more attention to herself, and sure, someone paying attention to her and not Buffy was, like, objectively good, but again, uncomfortable pricklies.
“That you did, Dawnie,” Mom said, voice all soft and sweet and so Mom, that Dawn was pretty sure nothing bad could happen. Right?
Spike stared down into the cocoa for a moment and took another long sniff of it. Which, okay, Dawn was starting to get why Buffy thought the vampire smelling thing was gross. Then Spike drank the whole mug of cocoa in one gulp and set the empty mug down on the bottom stair with a ceramic thunk.
“Not bad, Little Bit.” His voice was even and cool. Kind of… distant? Thoughtful? Dawn wasn’t sure what was going on, but this was not usual Spike behavior, even though she didn’t know him that well. According to Buffy, Spike was loud and annoying and pushy and a big old jerk. Mom didn’t talk much about Spike (Dawn was pretty sure Mom hadn’t told Buffy about Spike’s occasional visits), but she kind of thought Mom liked Spike. “Well, got what I came for, I suppose. I’ll be off. Be seeing you Joyce.” He nodded to Mom, and then tilted his head at Dawn but didn’t say anything.
“Good-bye, Spike,” Mom called out softly as he walked into the darkness of the yard. Dawn didn’t hear him at all as he disappeared into the night. She didn’t make a peep when Mum shuffled her back inside and they checked all the locks on the doors. Buffy wouldn’t be home late, or at all. Especially if she was with Riley tonight (ew).
Dawn helped Mom clean up the cocoa and the rest of the kitchen, and when Mom went to bed and took some pain killers, Dawn went to her room and cracked open her diary.
That had been weird, how Spike had acted. Very suspicious. Even with her limited experience, she knew that someone (even an evil vampire) suddenly finding a reason to leave was pretty weird. Was Spike up to something? Was he gathering intel on her and Mom to do something to Buffy? He never had done that before (that had been Angelus, and just remembering that whole time made Dawn’s skin crawl all over, not just the spot between her shoulders). It was weird, and it was unusual. And Dawn knew that meant something was happening. Something big.
And she was going to find out what.