You don't want to see how the sausage gets made, do you pet? It was still true, she didn't. She'd never really thought, or wanted to think, about how Spike got money, especially since the chip. So she'd consented to wait in the motel room while he went out alone.


She needed to be alone a little too, to detach herself from the pleasureable fog of sex and start to really grapple with what was coming next.


Her sister was human. Her sister was delicate. She had to be careful with her.


She phoned Dawn, by pre-arrangement, at Janice's, where she could go in the evening, and get calls from her undead sister, without rousing suspicion among the Scoobies. Yesterday she'd prepared her for the idea that she had to leave Sunnydale. Now she explained that she'd wire her enough money for a train ticket and something over, and meet her the next night at Union Station in Los Angeles.


Dawn didn't say much, and Buffy wasn't sure if that was because Janice was listening, or for some other reason.


"You understand everything, right? How to claim the money, and get on the train—?"


"I'm not stupid."


"I never said you were. I just want to make sure you get there all right, that we find each other."


"I'll get there!"


Buffy could hear the eye-rolling through the phone. Okay, time to wind this up. "Good. So I'll see you tomorrow night. Good-bye for now."


"Goodb—Buffy, are you going to kill me?"


"What?"


"Xander told me that vampires always kill their families first and—"


"Did you tell Xander about me?"


"No! No! I didn't tell anyone! I just ...."


"If I was going to kill you, wouldn't I just show up and do it? I think I've pretty much forfeited the element of surprise, don't you?"


Her sister was quiet. Buffy realized she had her eyes squeezed shut, and opened them. Her head started to ache. It didn't seem fair that she should still get headaches. "Dawn. Dawnie. It's going to be all right. If you're worried, you can wear my good crucifix."


"The one Angel gave you?"


"It's in the box on my dresser. I give you permission to take it. It's yours now, okay? And there's supplies in that trunk under my bed—holy water, stakes. Bring whatever you think you need to feel safe."


Dawn whispered. "Is Spike going to be there too?"


"Yes. We'll both meet your train."


"You're really giving me your necklace?"


"Yes. You can have ... anything you want from my room, take it. But don't overpack, okay? You don't want to get caught. Use that roller bag that's in mom's closet."


"Okay."


"Okay."


"Buffy—"


"What?"


Is there anything you want? Any of your stuff? Because I guess neither of us will be going back to Revello Drive again."


Buffy opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Suddenly she was in her room, all her things around her, each object sharp and distinct. The bed-spread she'd had since junior high. The lamp with the upside-down shade. Her mirror with all the photos stuck in the frame. Her old diaries.


Mr Gordo.


She heard Spike pull up outside, touching the De Soto's horn with a light gentlemanly summons.


"You need the space in the suitcase for yourself. I need to go now, Dawn. I'll see you tomorrow."


She put the phone down a little too fast. Why should she care about any of those things? Stuff. Stuff wasn't important. She was getting her sister out. What else could possibly matter?


Grabbing up her bag, she went out to the car. Spike leaned across to open the door for her. When she got in, he pressed a wad of bills into her hand. "This'll be plenty, yeah? I know where we can wire it." He was already backing out as she started counting—the notes were old, jumbled front and back and upside down, twenties and some tens, and there was a fifty.


Plenty.


She was going to ask him what he'd done—whom he'd done it to—but realized, with a little frisson of surprise, maybe pleasure—that she didn't care. She'd have given a shit before, but now it was too abstract. She needed money to take care of Dawn, and here it was, The End.


"Everythin' set with the bit?"


"Yes. She knows what to do."


"Be good to see her again," Spike said, pulling out. "Miss her."