Dawn of Destruction

By:  Morrigan & Blacknblue2


A/N:  Sorry that this one took so long to get out.  Real life got in the way for both of us.  It's a pain in the butt when that happens!

Thanks, so much, for all of the wonderful reviews!  Big hugs go out to all, and we hope you enjoy this chapter.


Disclaimer:  Joss own all.  But, who says he gets to have all the fun?




A heavy silence fell over the group.

Spike held an arm out for Dawn, and she tucked herself underneath his shoulder, burying her face in his neck.  "Is it bad if I hope he didn't have a wife and kids, after all?" she whispered.

"No, Bit," he answered, just as quietly, gently rubbing his hand up and down her back.  "It's right decent of you, in fact."

Buffy walked toward Spike, and he held his other arm out for her.  Buffy mirrored her sister's position, and wrapped her arms around both Spike and Dawn.

He didn't care much, himself, about the fate of that particular little team.  To him, they weren't anything more than an extension of the group that had captured him and forced that chip into his head.  But, he did care about what their deaths could possibly signify, and for what it meant to these two girls.

And, he would be lying to himself if he tried to deny the fact that he was enjoying the closeness he had been granted with Buffy over the last couple of days.  Never before would she have allowed him to comfort her like this, in front of her friends.   And, if taking advantage of the fact that she *was* allowing it, was tacky and rude, he didn't care.  He was *still* evil, after all!

Xander and Willow exchanged glances that spoke greatly of concern.  Buffy hadn't really been herself in a while, but they were her best friends, not the muzzled evil un-dead!  Willow, for her part, wondered if maybe she was treating him this way to form a closer connection with her Dawn.

Buffy finally broke away from Spike and Dawn.  "Alright," she said, "we need to find out what happened."

"Ummm, guys?"  Xander said, hesitantly, "I think I can probably guess."

Following Xanders line of sight to the television, the group could see a breaking news report scrolling along the bottom of the screen.  It told of a second tidal wave in Hualañe, about eight hours after the first.

"My God," Buffy whispered, as she and the rest of the group looked at the devastation that was being shown on the screen.  Homes were destroyed, and bodies were lying in the streets...  None of them could ever recall *bodies* being shown on the news.  It was horrible.

Tara shook her head and asked, "Do you...  Do you think they tried to remove the barrier?  We told them specifically not to try and remove the barrier..."

"I don't know," Willow replied softly.  The rolling footage showed a rescue worker trying to pick up a small, crying child who was desperately clinging to the lifeless body of a woman who they could only assume was his mother.

Giles turned off the TV.  "I think it's time we call Riley back and find out what happened.  Xander, Anya you can head home for a little while.  We'll meet back at the Magic box this evening.  I think I'll head home as well.  Dawn can call Riley."

"Dawn?  Why is she calling?" asked Xander.

Willow nudged him with her elbow, and whispered, "Blueberry pancakes."

A quick glance to Anya, who *he* had never convinced to make blueberry pancakes, and he smiled.  "You're right," he said.  "Riley will be wrapped around her finger in five minutes."

"Too late!"  Dawn called from the other room.  "I've had him since he came with Sam."

"What, do you just collect people to keep under your thumb?" asked Spike, admiringly.

Dawn turned overly wide, innocent eyes on him.  "Of course not!" she answered, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

Not catching the little joke that was being made, somewhat on her behalf, Anya took Xander's arm, leading him towards the door as she said, loudly, "Come on, Honey!  All this death and worry makes me feel incredibly sad and uncomfortable.  I want to get home, where you may comfort me with many orgasms!

Grimacing slightly at his girlfriend's blunt statement, Xander sheepishly waved goodbye and promised to come back this evening, as he escorted Anya outside.

"I have some books to pick up at the dorm," Willow said, "and then, Tara and I were thinking about getting something to eat before we come back."

"Oh, can I go too?"  Dawn asked.  "I need to get out of this house.  It's so depressing!"

Tara looked at Buffy and shrugged.  "I...  I don't know, Dawnie.  I mean, it's not that we don't want you to go with us, but I think Giles wanted you to call Riley now."

"But," Dawn countered, "I could use my cell phone!"  She held up the shiny red Nokia that Buffy had bought for her, on her birthday.  "I should have plenty of minutes left, and we have world-wide calling on our plan!"  Turning hopeful eyes to her sister, Dawn pleaded, "Please, Buffy!  Can I go?"

"You'll call Riley?"  Buffy asked, looking unsure of the idea of leaving this up to Dawn, without her supervision.

"I'll start dialing as soon as we're in the car!"  She exclaimed.  "And I know exactly what to do.  I'll get everything out of him.  Everything he knows about the portal, and the barrier, and the tidal waves... everything, I promise!"

Dawn folded her hands in front of her and bounced on the balls of her feet, chewing her bottom lip.  "Pleeease??"

Looking to Giles who shrugged slightly, Buffy sighed and, begrudgingly, nodded her consent.

"Oh thank you, Buffy!"  Dawn raced over and caught her sister up in a fierce hug.  "I'll let you guys know everything when I get back!"

Willow and Tara exchanged a look between them and then Willow addressed Buffy, saying, "We won't be gone long.  I promise."

Buffy simply smiled and waved, watching with tired eyes, as the three of them made their way out.

Buffy was startled by an arm wrapping around her waist from behind.  "Spike, wha"

"Shhhh," he interrupted, running his free hand up and down her arm.  "Say goodbye to the watcher, now."

"Bye, Giles," she responded, obediently, watching him pull on his coat.

"Oh, yes, goodbye, Buffy," he answered, distractedly, before turning to see her with Spike's arm wrapped around her.  He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it.  'We could all use a little extra comfort today,' He thought to himself.

As the door closed, Buffy slowly pulled out of Spike's embrace, turning to face him.  "Spike, what are you"

"Shhh," he interrupted again, gently guiding her toward the living room.  Grabbing up a blanket, he pulled it over the both of them as he settled them onto the couch.  "Sbeen a bit of a bad day, today," he said by way of explanation, "Time to focus on the good things, I think.  Like Whose Line."  He turned the television on to Whose Line is it, Anyway, to demonstrate his point.

"Spike" Buffy began, again.

"Nope," he answered firmly.  "The only words I want to hear from you are 'Thank you, Spike' or 'Wow, that Wayne Brady's a comedic genius.'"

"Hot cocoa?" she questioned, quietly.

A gentle smile graced Spike's face.  "Yea, that'd be okay, too," he answered, getting up to make some.

As Spike was busying himself in the kitchen, Buffy fidgeted on the couch, wondering what exactly had happened to make Spike feel so at home here.  Then, remembering that this *had* been his home for several months before she came back, she realized that had to be why...  But it didn't explain the way he had sort of taken over, just now...  Or, the way that she had let him.

More confusing was the fact that it felt comforting for him to do so.  What was wrong with her?  What was wrong with him? They weren't friends!  She trusted him to keep his word; he watched her back on patrol...  But they had never been friends.

So, why did she feel more at ease being alone in the house with him, than she had felt at any other time over the last few days?

Buffy was startled out of her ruminations by a hot cup of cocoa being pressed into her hands.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, looking over at Spike, who had settled next to her again.

"Told you," he answered.  "Long day, bad things, Whose Line."  He tilted his head down, focusing intently on his own mug of cocoa.  "Besides," he mumbled, "everyone needs a break from time to time.  Especially you hero types."

Focusing on her own mug, Buffy mumbled back, "Thank you, Spike."

Finding himself feeling a bit awkward in the face of Buffy's heartfelt appreciation, Spike shrugged and smiled a bit shyly, waving a dismissive hand as if to say, 'It's nothing,' before turning and pointing to the television screen.  "Oh, look!"  He said.  "It's back on!"

Before long, Buffy was wrapped up in the show, forgetting all about worrying about the whys and how's of things coming to be as they were.  The two of them sat together, nudging and slapping at each other like old friends, while giggling over the comedians' antics and silly songs.

Buffy, for her part, found herself amazed that she had never taken the time to watch this show before.  She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard.  Even if she wasn't completely sure if the reason was just the show, or the combined effect of it, and of Spike howling with glee and keeling over the arm of the sofa, in stitches.

"You are *so* right!"  Buffy squeaked out, between giggles,  "Wayne Brady *IS* a comedic genius!"

"I know," Spike wheezed, in reply, between, hitching, gulps of air that he really didn't need.  "The man is a bloody riot!"

He looked pretty silly himself.  He was grinning widely, his right arm hanging over the arm of the couch and his legs were stretched way out in front of him as a result of him sliding down in his seat.

Holding her sides, with tears running down her face, Buffy tried to bring her own breathing back to normal.  As the show came to a close, Buffy slumped, to one side in blissful exhaustion, landing more or less on her back, her head pillowed on Spike's stomach.

And in that moment, everything changed.

Buffy blinked up at him as his deep blue eyes fixed on hers, one hand reaching almost tentatively to brush against her cheek to wipe a tear away with his thumb.

Neither one spoke as the window of opportunity stood open.  It was as if, for them, time had stopped.  And in that moment, Buffy pushed aside her worries and inhibitions and jumped.

Her own had seemed to reach up by its own volition to trace the chiseled line of his cheekbone, admiring him with her touch.  His eyes widened slightly in wonderment, before he turned his face into her hand, closing his eyes as he did so, and kissed her palm.

Such a simple, innocent gesture, but it held so much tangible emotion of the likes that Buffy had never experienced before.  It made her feel worshipped and adored.  And, when his lashes lifted just enough to gaze back down at her, she had to catch her breath.

Astounded that she was allowing him this closeness, he decided to act before his good fortune could flee from him, as it most often did.  Summoning all his courage, he gathered this gloriously fetching slayer within the circle of his arms, holding her to his chest as he gently brought his lips to hers.