A/N: This chapter takes a bit of a different turn, and I'm well aware that I've totally screwed with the time line.... :P ... some people were wondering if it was going to be just Buffy and Spike for the rest of the story, but there's no way to really show Buffy's change without showing her change in the way she treats him when the others are there...anyway, this is a bit of a twist on the eppie with Dawn's vengeance wish, manipulated and used for my own twisted purposes!!! Muah-hah-hah-hah...anyways...just read it :P


“I – I don’t know, pet. I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“Please?” Spike had never heard the Slayer’s voice sound so small, so childlike and pleading – at least not with him. “I *really* want you to be there. *Please*, Spike.”

He could hardy believe that they were even having this conversation at all, let alone fathom what his answer should be. A few weeks earlier, he would not have been able to imagine Buffy’s tolerating his presence at her upcoming birthday party, let alone making a point of inviting him, and actually pushing the issue when he politely declined her invitation.

She had told him a couple of days ago that her friends knew about them now, but he had not had the opportunity to see any of the Scoobies since then – not in weeks, actually, since he had stopped trying to see Buffy – and the thought of facing them now, facing their reactions to the current precarious situation that he and the Slayer were in, was oddly unsettling.

Odd – because their opinions had never mattered to him much; at least, that was what he told himself – and everyone else.

They were children.

Mere mortals whose life experience was a fraction of his, who could not begin to understand the things they professed to know so much about. They had spent a few short years in the fight of good against evil, and therefore thought themselves to be bleedin’ experts.

He had spent over a century in that same fight – granted, most of that time on the opposite side – and he had learned a great deal during that time. Yet now that he was actually making somewhat of an effort to earn their trust, to help where he could – they still rejected him, blowing him off as a useless leech simply in search of the chance to have any miniscule sort of contact with the Slayer.

Which was only partly a false assessment.

Still, they rarely gave him any credit at all for the actual attempts he had made at being good, and dismissed any possible knowledge or insight he might have to offer without a second chance. They had decided a long time ago to despise him, and were not likely to change their minds anytime soon.

And he highly doubted that Buffy’s recent revelation would have done anything to help earn his way into their good graces. In fact, it probably had only served to increase their mistrust and hostility toward him – which was in and of itself a whole separate unsettling issue. He may have been able to fight the Slayer now, but his chip was still fully functioning when it came to anyone else.

He did not fancy a birthday staking just for showing up.

But those emerald eyes were staring up into his with such a hopeful, pleading, adorable expression – and before she could stop herself, Buffy had moved a step nearer to him, as she repeated softly, “Please, Spike,” reaching out to take his hand in hers in a gesture that could have been completely platonic.

Could have been – if not for the history that they shared.

He really didn’t mean to jerk his hand out of hers as if it had burned him.

Didn’t mean to put that wounded, crestfallen expression on that lovely, startlingly open face.

Didn’t mean to give in – even a little bit.

“Oh, bloody hell. I’ll come to your soddin’ party, Buffy. Don’t get all teary-eyed over it. If it means that much to you…” he conceded in a weary voice of defeat, his eyes focused on the floor at his feet.

He glanced back up – and immediately received his reward for his generosity. The look of gratitude and elation on Buffy’s face was worth it all, though he would not have wanted her to know that it meant so much. She bounced lightly up and down on her heels in excitement, and he could tell that she wanted to hug him – but didn’t dare. Not after his reaction moments before when her hand had merely touched his.

Good. It was better that she didn’t hug him, he told himself.

Didn’t want her to, anyway.

*Yeah,* he sneered at himself mentally. *So you’re a bloody liar *and* a right ponce.*

“Thank you, Spike,” Buffy told him, with complete sincerity. “You have no idea how much this means to me!”

“You’re quite welcome, pet,” he sighed, his tone making it sound like a bit more of a sacrifice than his words suggested. “Just be sure none of your mates get it in their heads to take a stake to my back while it’s turned.”

She waved her hand dismissively at that suggestion as she headed toward the door, as usual these days, cutting her visit much shorter than he would have liked for it to be.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that…they wouldn’t dare,” she replied in a dark tone that was a bit cryptic to him. “They know that you are basically – well – untouchable,” she shrugged lightly, with an ironic, wistful little smile.

He turned to face her before she reached the door, one eyebrow raised over just the hint of a smile, his tone flat and a bit sarcastic – but not bitingly so.

“Am I.”

Although he feigned an air of nonchalance at her words, they were strangely touching, inspiring a fresh sense of hope in him, mingled with other emotions that he could not have put names to if he’d tried.

Had she actually said something to her friends that would render him “untouchable”? Did she actually care enough to have warned them about hurting him – defended him to her friends?

*Untouchable, eh?*

“Unfortunately, yes,” Buffy replied without hesitation, continuing on toward the door, calling over her shoulder, “Tomorrow. Seven. See you there.”

And then she was gone – leaving Spike to process the double meaning of her final words, and to spend the rest of the evening wondering restlessly about the coming evening and what it would bring.

*Best call a friend, mate,* he told himself with grim resignation. *Better not try to do this alone.*

++++++++++++++++

“I know you must feel so alone sometimes, Sweetie – it’s hard losing someone you love – but that’s what I’m here for,” the sweetly smiling stranger said, her warm eyes meeting the young girl’s gaze honestly, openly. “I’m here to help you, Dawn.”

Dawn had no idea what catty, self-important fellow student of hers had gone and reported her as potentially dangerously depressed to the school officials, why she had been called in here to talk with a strange new guidance counselor that she had never even seen around school before, much less met – but she wanted to kill them for giving her such a scare.

At first she had thought that she had somehow been caught in one of the many petty thefts she had committed lately, and her heart had dropped to the pit of her stomach with that sick, guilty feeling that accompanies *knowing* that you have been caught and you are therefore completely and utterly screwed.

But this woman – Hallie, was it? – hadn’t mentioned anything even remotely related to stealing. In fact, she seemed to be much more interested in Dawn’s emotional state at the moment, following the major loss she had suffered in the death of her mother.

Hence Dawn’s assumption that one of her nosy classmates had ratted her out.

And she *wasn’t* depressed – well – not *that* depressed – but – the woman was so warm and open and friendly… She had a comforting, disarming, almost -- *motherly* air about her.

Before she knew it, Dawn was opening up to her much more than she had intended to.

Which had been not at all.

“Well, yeah,” she admitted. “I guess I do feel – lonely – sometimes – but – that’s not the worst of it. I thought it was – but I just found out *why* my sister’s been leaving me alone so much…”

Hallie’s concerned frown of question encouraged her to go on.

“My sister’s been really distant lately – and I thought it was just because – well, last year she was really sick, and – and she’s been kind of – depressed, and stuff – but – she just told me, all this time – she’s been keeping this *really* big secret from me. With my *best friend*,” Dawn explained, her voice tinged with hurt and resentment.

“Oh,” Hallie shook her head, her voice sympathetic and soothing. “that must have been very hurtful, Dawn.”

Dawn nodded, her expression flat and emotionless. “Yeah, you might say that,” she said with bitter sarcasm in her voice. “All of a sudden it makes perfect sense that my sister and my best friend are never around – they’re busy being ‘never around’ together!”

“You must have felt very betrayed,” Hallie assumed, her voice still soft and reassuring.

Somehow, she had a way of making Dawn feel safe to talk to her openly.

“Yeah, I guess,” she nodded in agreement. “I mean – the weird thing is – I’ve known that my friend had a crush on her for years now! It’s not like I would have minded them hooking up – I would have been thrilled! But it’s like – why couldn’t either of them tell me?” At the end of her question, the anger in her voice faded to hurt and insecurity.

“I mean – I would have understood. I just don’t understand why they had to keep it a secret for so long…” She paused, shaking her head and looking up at Hallie to gauge her reaction.

The silent, sympathetic nod she received encouraged her to go on.

“…there’s just been – so many secrets lately. I wish – I just wish…”

“What, Dawn?” Hallie pressed gently in a calm, patient voice. “What do you wish was different about your situation?”

“I just wish – that everybody would stop hiding everything from everybody else like they’ve been doing. I’m sick of the secrets – you know? I just wish there would be no more secrets!” Dawn summed up her feelings, her heart heavy and weary with the pain of all the huge, traumatic drama that her sister and her friends had been dealing with lately.

Hallie nodded slowly, her eyes shining oddly for just an instant as she gave the teenager a compassionate smile. “I know, Dawn – I know.”

+++++++++++++

“Spike – hi.” Buffy’s voice was unusually subdued, her eyes wide and a bit anxious, when she opened her door to see Spike standing there on the porch with – some demon that looked vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t remember from where. “And…”

“Happy birthday, Buffy…you’ve met Clem,” Spike nodded, his voice low and trying a bit too hard for nonchalant as he shrugged toward his friend, leading him in through the door into the foyer.

“I…” Buffy’s voice trailed off, and she shook her head slightly, though she took the friendly hand Clem offered in greeting. “I’m sorry – I don’t…”

“Kitten poker?” Clem offered helpfully, his eyebrows raised hopefully. “Spike was cheating?”

Or at least – the folds of skin directly over his eyes that probably passed for eyebrows. She wasn’t sure if he actually had *actual* eyebrows, buried somewhere under all that skin.

“Right – Clem!” Buffy remembered suddenly – sort of – with a nervous laugh. “Of course! I’m – sorry, I was a bit drunk at the time – don’t think I caught anyone’s name.”

Once the greetings were out of the way, however – a slightly awkward silence fell.

And her friends did not even know Spike was here yet.

*Oh God…oh God…oh God…can’t do this…can’t do this…* The panicked words ran through Buffy’s mind as she smiled politely at her former lover and his friend.

“Drink?” she offered.

“No, thanks, love,” Spike said, offering her a gentle, reassuring smile that barely served to mask his own nervousness.

“I’d love a Coke – please?” Clem replied, a bit hesitantly.

He still could hardly believe that he was attending the Slayer’s birthday party. But, a friend had to do what a friend had to do, and he was not about to let Spike go to this little shindig alone. From what the blonde vampire had told him, he was not likely to be very popular at this thing.

*Someone* had to watch his back.

Buffy hurried into the kitchen, her hands shaking unreasonably as she got a plastic cup and poured a Coke for Spike’s friend. Willow and Xander were standing by the island talking quietly when she entered, but she was too nervous and distracted by Spike’s arrival to notice the way they stopped the moment she came into the room.

“Spike’s here,” she announced tersely. “And he brought a friend. *Be nice*.”

“A friend?” Willow echoed dubiously, giving Xander a sidelong glance. “Like a – lady…friend?”

She didn’t care *what* had gone on between Spike and Buffy. If the vampire had brought another woman to Buffy’s birthday party, she was going to be breaking out the shovel.

“No,” Buffy assured her, shaking her head. Then she frowned, considering. “I don’t – think…so…no!” she decided, shaking her head again. “Not that kind of friend. But he *is*…”

“Need help with anything?” Clem asked politely as he walked into the kitchen. “Anything I can do?”

Buffy tried to outshine Xander’s and Willow’s slack jawed, wide eyed looks with a brilliant, though false, smile. “Nope. Everything’s under control. Where – um…”

“Your sister waylayed him,” Clem explained with a little smile and a shrug.

Buffy wondered if it should bother her that no one had to even wonder what – or who – she had been asking about. She nodded before nervously performing the introductions and heading off in search of the waylayed vampire.

Whatever “waylayed” meant, anyway.

There was no sign of Spike in the living room, just Anya and Tara setting up a small card table for gifts, and Xander’s friend from work, sitting awkwardly on the couch, looking up at her much too expectantly when she entered the room.

*And the awkwardness level just went up a notch…* she thought wearily, flashing him a false but sweet smile as she headed toward the stairs.

*And why am I working so hard at making everybody *else* so comfortable? Isn’t this day about me?* she wondered absently, as she stepped onto the bottom stair.

At that moment the doorbell rang, and she went to answer it.

“Sophie! Hi!” she cheerfully greeted the nervous-looking girl at the front door.

*Great!* she thought sarcastically, her smile never shifting. *One more person who doesn’t know anybody and is going to need me to make them feel comfortable all night!*

Maybe it was the presence of Spike and Clem in the house – or maybe it was just her nerves going all haywire at the moment – but as Buffy closed the door behind her Doublemeat Palace coworker, her Slayer senses failed to pick up the presence of yet another demon on the porch, hiding in the shadows.

As the door closed firmly behind the last of the party guests, Halfrek stepped out into the glow of the porch light, a wicked smile of satisfaction on her face as she said softly,

“Wish granted.”