---

---

part five - point of fact

---

Oh, god, that girl had better be here. Was it any wonder Buffy was freaked? She'd run all over damned Sunnydale trying to find Dawn -- first, the library, where that little liar had said she would be; second, Janice's, in case her sister was trying to pull another trick like she had last Halloween; third, and certainly the long shot, Xander's. In fact, she'd been so desperate by the time she'd hit Xander’s place that when she'd barreled down his door, she'd woken him up from his late afternoon nap and sent him tumbling to the ground right off of the couch.

Needless to say, Dawn hadn't been there.

So she'd run to the only other place she could think of. The one place that Buffy had avoided as much as possible unless she'd been checking up on Clem. And upon entering Spike's crypt, she'd screamed loud and clear, "DAWN!" in hopes that the lying little shit would be there.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, Dawn climbed up the ladder tentatively, giving Buffy her most apologetic look. Buffy ignored it and instead pulled the girl to her, hugging her as hard as she could without risking damage to the girl. "Why are you here, Dawn? Why did you do that to me? You scared the hell out of me!"

Dawn pulled back slightly and sighed, looking down. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I... I shouldn't have lied to you, and I'm sorry. But..." She looked around the upper level, pausing on Spike's old chair and TV set. Glancing back at Buffy, she shrugged. "I miss him."

Buffy’s face softened, and she sighed, touching Dawn's face and gently weaving the teen’s shoulder-length hair through her fingers. "I know, Dawn. I know you do. And I'm sorry, but I really don't think he's coming back. Believe me, if I could, I would find him and drag him back here, just for you." She frowned. "I'd have to find out where to look, first." Her face softened again. "But I would try. Just so you could see him again, just so you wouldn't have to miss him so much."

Dawn took a deep breath, then exhaled again, staring at her sister. "I'm not gonna give up on him. He'll come back, I know he will. He loves us too much to just stay away."

Buffy's shoulders tensed and she closed her eyes for a second. Various scenes flashed behind her eyelids of the many times that Spike had declared his feelings for her. Downstairs in this very crypt; inside the dilapidated old building, before she'd thrown herself at him and fucked him into oblivion in order to hide from her feelings; searching for Dawn after Willow had gone on that magic rampage and had nearly gotten the teen killed; countless times after they'd made love and numerous times in her dreams after he'd left town, making his special appearances and declaring his eternal love for her.

And there was no doubt in Buffy's mind that Dawn knew exactly how much Spike cared about them both.

She sighed, and resigned herself to nodding. Once Dawn fixated herself on something, it was just that much harder trying to get her to let go of it. If Dawn said Spike was coming back, then maybe, just maybe... he would.

And if-or-when he did, Buffy would kick his ass for leaving them in the first place.

Buffy sighed again. "Maybe he will, maybe he won't. Don't get your hopes up, Dawn." The Slayer glanced around the crypt cautiously, clearly desperate to get off of the subject. "So, where's Clem? He's not here?"

Dawn shrugged, herself relieved at the change. Two more minutes—or rather, two more of Buffy's denials—and she would have been this close to blabbing all about the blond vampire hiding in the tunnels under the crypt. "I don't know. Come to think of it, we haven't seen him in a while. Where do you think he is?"

Buffy frowned. "I have no idea. He could have just taken off. He still didn't seem too happy with us since we blacked out the TV last month, so I wouldn't be too surprised if he left without telling us. And anyway, it's not like he's obligated."

"That's true," the teenager said, pouting. "It's too bad. I liked him."

Buffy smiled slightly. "Me, too. You know, he insulted me when we first met?" She frowned. "I’m pretty sure it was an insult. I was drunk at the time; I wasn't really aware of anything except the demons and the lovely distracting alcohol bottle."

Dawn gave the older Summers an odd look, trying as hard as she could not to laugh. "You were drunk? I thought you learned your lesson after the whole Cave!Buffy thing at UC-Sunnydale?"

The Slayer glared at her. "I had reason then, and I had it that time, too, so shut up. I think it was after I went to see Angel last year. I came home, depressed and all, and I ended up drinking with Spike --" She cut herself off, freezing. Then she let out a deep breath and nodded, relaxing. It was okay to say his name. And it was okay to remember him. For a soulless vampire that she had pushed to the edge, he'd done a lot of memorable things for her, and it was okay to remember that. She pointed to a corner in the crypt. "Right there, as a matter of fact. And he took me to get some information about the nerds -- except we didn't know it was the nerds at the time -- at a bar where they were playing kitten poker."

Dawn's eyebrows went up. "They were playing poker for cute little kitties?"

Buffy laughed. "Yeah, it was so stupid. I think I got him in trouble for cheating first, and then I set the kittens free, which probably didn't make his poker buddies like me much more. Poor things, I think at least half of them got away. But Spike brought me in and sat me down in the corner with a bottle of... whiskey, I think. He introduced me around, and Clem just stared at me for a second before saying that my skin was so tight it was disgusting. Big laugh coming from a demon whose excess skin is practically falling off, right?”

Dawn giggled. "Right. Clem isn't exactly the best person to talk about that. I see where he was coming from, since you weren't of the normal to him, but still."

The Slayer sighed and looked around again before moving toward the sarcophagus and sliding onto it. Her vision went blank for a moment.

"Tell me you love me."

He stares at her with barely concealed hope. "I love you. You know I do."

She moves closer, almost imperceptibly. "Tell me you want me."

Spike's feelings for her skyrocket and surface instantly. "I always want you. In point of fact --"

She grabs him and leads him to the sarcophagus. "Shut up."

Turning them around, she slides her hands up his arms, gazing up into his sparkling blue eyes, and leans in as he lifts her up onto the sheet-covered stone. He climbs up after her, holding her close, sensing that something is different, hoping that it is, realizing that she is giving herself to him fully this night.

Her little hands slide down and grasp at his jean clasps, undoing them as Spike’s own hands work on hers. Lifting her up gently, he tugs down her pants and pulls away her panties as their lips hover against each other. Finally, he sheathes himself inside of her as Buffy pulls him close, kissing him, devouring him, overwhelming them both with their emotions -- him, with his love, lust, and desire for her and her, with her need to be loved and lusted after, to be desired.

The flash ended and Buffy came back to herself. Dawn, who had been clambering up next to her sister, barely noticed Buffy’s flushed skin as the Slayer shook her head to rid herself of the images that refused to leave. The teen finally plopped down firmly next to Buffy when she finally settled on the tall stone tomb, then looked at Buffy expectantly.

“So?” she asked, pretty blue eyes bright. Eyes that were way too identical to another pair of beautiful blue eyes, eyes that expressed anything and everything in a single blink. “How’d you know where to look?"

Buffy blinked again and shook her head, looking at the younger Summers. “Oh... um, well, I had to go to a bunch of places to find you, and after that, the crypt just seemed the most logical. I mean... I’m pretty sure you spent a lot of your time here with Spike when I was... you know. Dead. So... here I am, and here you are.” Buffy folded her arms, tilting her head. “What are you doing here anyway?"

Dawn smiled slightly. “Spike left behind a lot of history books when he left. I figured looking through some of them might help me out with my homework.” She frowned then, wrinkling her nose. “That’s probably when I found out that a lot of the books here deal with a demon's view of history."

The Slayer began laughing. “Aww, Dawn, you should have realized that from the start. Pretty gruesome stuff there."

Dawn shrugged. “Actually, it’s nothing worse than what I’ve seen you and Spike do with a battle axe, so I was okay. Anyway, the books were one thing, but then it was the crypt too, you know? It’s... homey, in a weird, icky... dead... type way."

Buffy smiled and wrapped an arm around her sister’s shoulders. Her breath escaped her through pursed lips. “I know what you mean. I’ve been here so often that this place does feel like... home.” She glanced at Dawn. “I really need a break."

The shorter girl slid down off of the sarcophagus and headed toward the crypt doors. “Let’s go home, ‘kay, Dawnie?"

The younger Summers nodded. “Sure, just let me go get my things from downstairs."

Buffy nodded, watching quietly as the teen slipped down the ladder. A cool rush swept over her and her Spidey sense began to act up again. Cursing, she looked over her shoulder into the graveyard.

Nothing.

She frowned, then moved slowly around the crypt. Definitely a presence here... an almost comforting aura. And it felt like...

Buffy shook her head and shrugged the feeling off. She could have sworn that Spike was there, again. God, she was sick of this... She obviously missed him so much that she was beginning to sense him everywhere. Even here, in this empty crypt, where no one, apparently, had taken residence for over two weeks.

Although it would make sense. Spike had lived here, after all.

A creeping sensation, an almost sickly, twisted version of her Slayer tinglies crawled across her back. She slowly turned and peered over her shoulder into the graveyard. She's never felt something so old, or... volatile before. A frown crossed Buffy's face as she peered around the outside of the crypt.

Again... nothing.

---

“She misses you."

Spike grunted, shaking his head. “Yeah, I can see how much she misses me. Bit, just leave off. Big sis doesn’t want me around, an’ I don’t want ta bug her. I’ve already done enough to her.” His gaze lowered and he sighed. “I attacked her, something I swore to you that I'd never do, and then I left her like the rest. It’s best that I just stay out of her way, ‘cos if she finds out I’m back before I'm even ready to let her know, she’ll be handing me my head before I dust."

Dawn frowned. “Wow. You’ve really changed."

Spike’s head sank lower and his feet began to kick at the remains of his bed. “Look, Bit, I’ll let you call me a poofter if it’ll help you make sense of this bloody soul. But please, just please, let me be. Don’t tell me to talk to your sister, because number one, she’s not goin' ta wanna talk. She'd rather chop off all of my limbs, I think. Number two, I’ve put her through enough. I love her more than anything, an’ all I’ve ever been able to do is hurt her. I don’t want that anymore. I just want her to start being happy, an’ with me in her face all the time, that’s never gonna happen.”

Dawn moved forward, towards him, tilting her head down slightly in order to peer into his face. When she reached him, she stopped, then leaned in, giving him the tightest hug she was capable of.

“I think she’d be happy to know that you’re back. Yeah, she’d throw a hissy fit or two at first, but then, it would hit her... you’re back. And then maybe you two could work through your problems, and at least be friends, if nothing more. I know you won’t believe me, but when you left, the look on Buffy’s face was like she’d just been socked in the stomach. It was kind of like her graduation all over again, only this time, it was you walking away. And you were the one that was supposed to stay for good. No matter what she did to you."

I did stay no matter what she did to me, he thought bitterly, shivering slightly. ‘S what I did to her that’s the clincher. The vampire sighed out loud. Still, though, it was rather sweet of the Bit to try and reason with him. But he’d been on the receiving end of Buffy’s fury more than Dawn ever had. Spike had been someone that Buffy had hated, and he knew -- more than knew -- that she hated the idea of having feelings for him. He’d be dust the second he tried to look at her.

Looking up, he gave her a pain-filled, pleading gaze. “Nibblet,” he whispered. “Go on home, now. Please? Slayer’s waiting for you upstairs; prolly thinks you’ve fallen down a hole or something by now. I appreciate the talk.” Dawn started to interrupt and Spike held his hand up. “No, Dawn. Buffy will find out I’m here sooner or later, probably sooner, but she’ll be the one to come to me. I’m not gonna charge into her life again with a soul an’ act like I’m the next bloody coming of Christ the way Peaches does. She doesn’t deserve that, not from me or anyone else. She’ll find out on her own, an’ I’ll just... be here when she does."

The girl’s hand moved up to touch Spike’s cheek, and the vampire nuzzled into it gratefully, sighing in relief when Dawn nodded her reluctant agreement. “Okay, Spike. Buffy will find out on her own. But still... come find me if you need to talk. Okay? Promise me, Spike."

He purred gently, took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I promise you, baby."

Dawn smiled and hugged him again. “I love you, Spike,” she whispered.

The blonde vampire’s face brightened, and he smiled, hugging her back. “Love you, too, sweet bit.” Pulling away, he tugged lightly on a strand of her hair, then gently swatted her. “Go on then, luv. Get your goods, an’ catch up to the Slayer."

The teenager grinned once more and squeezed Spike’s hand before shouldering her pack and heading up the ladder.

Spike’s smile dropped off of his face the minute she was gone and, letting out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumped, and his head fell.

Buffy was going to find him very, very soon. He could feel it.

And when she did... he prayed that Heaven help him.

---

Xander let out a disgusted grunt, throwing the Cosmo he had been perusing back onto the magazine stand. “This? Sucks," he said pointedly.

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “But according to this, it’s the most widely read and the most celebrated all over North America,” she said innocently.

Brown eyes glared up at her, obviously not amused. “I’m serious, Buff. How the hell am I supposed to figure out how I can get Anya to be civil to me again if I can’t even understand these stupid things?"

Buffy sighed. “Xander... that’s why these magazines are geared toward women. Men aren’t supposed to understand them. They’re supposed to make fun of them and dance their stupid sexy dances, like they don’t know any better. Which they don’t, since they don’t make these magazines for men."

Xander glared down at the magazine in question, then glared harder at Buffy - to no avail - when she cheerfully snatched it back and put it in the cart. His lips formed into a sullen pout. “Stupid chauvinistic women."

Buffy snorted and grabbed his arm, veering him away from the magazine aisles. “Xander, we have a job to do. We need to divide and conquer if we’re gonna make it back to your place in time, then to the airport to welcome Willow and Giles back. Can I please trust you not to dive headfirst into things that you never have, and never will know anything about?"

Xander sighed, then puffed up his chest at Buffy’s glare, saluting her. “Yes, Ma’am, right away, Ma’am!"

Buffy's glare deepened. “Stop it. Whenever you talk like that, you remind me of that... person. The one that's actually involved with the army that I used to date that is now married? The one that's a big fat liar who said he loved me but moved on quick enough to get married within one year away from me? The one I never want to think about ever again?”

Xander grinned weakly, shrugging. “Sorry." He glanced behind them at two figures walking along the aisle at a snail's pace. "What the hell are they talking about that makes them walk so slow?"

Buffy shook her head, shrugging, before looking back over her shoulder at the girls with a grin on her face. Xander would just never get it, would he?
"So, wait -- you're saying that Spike's back? And he was in Africa? How is that even possible? And that's where you got that cool necklace from?" Janice asked, rapid fire.

Since most people in Sunnydale turned a blind eye to the strange goings-on in their town, but still didn't really have a clue of what exactly the goings-on were, Dawn rarely had someone her own age to talk to. Since she and Janice had been fooled by those two vampire boys last Halloween before Buffy and Spike had saved them, Buffy had deemed it all right to inform Janice of the whole bump-in-the-night dealie, in order to keep the girl safer.

Of course, Dawn took that permission and ran with it. She ended up telling Janice all of the ins and outs of her own relatively short corporeal existence, as well as Sunnydale's nightlife... not to mention everything under the sun about Buffy and Spike's relationship.

Dawn smiled, holding her chin high as she showed off the necklace that she'd refused to remove since the night Spike had given it to her. "Right, right, don't know, and yes. He brought it back and gave it to me because the shaman guy said it would need to be here to keep the people Spike loved safe."

Janice frowned. "Isn't Africa all sunny? I may not get geography all that much, but I do know that there are some parts of Africa that definitely aren't safe for vampires. How did he even get there? Without, like, burning into cinders, I mean?"

Dawn frowned, stopping. “Well, to be honest, you've only met Spike once, and not even officially. If you think a little sun is going to stop him from getting where he wants to go, then you're dead wrong. But as far as how he even got to Africa, I don’t know.” She shook her head and started walking again. “Note to self: Ask Spike more about Africa.”

Janice peered toward Buffy and Xander, eying them cautiously. “Buffy doesn’t know that he’s back, does she?"

Dawn shook her head. “Spike doesn’t want her to know. He says that she’ll find him sooner or later and he’d rather not look like a big cardboard vampire cutout with a target painted over his heart. Nobody knows he’s back except me -- and, well, now you.” The teenager grimaced as she looked in Xander’s direction. “Besides... Xander’s not fond of Spike at all."

Janice gave her a skeptical look. “After all you’ve told me about their bad blood, Xander’s not fond of Spike?"

Dawn grinned. “Okay, okay, Xander hates Spike. He really likes to believe that he’s better than Spike, which, no, not really. Well, okay, aside from the, uh, bathroom incident that I never told you about --” Dawn glared pointedly at Janice. The other teen nodded, smiling. “He exaggerated everything that really happened, even though he didn't see any of it, just to supposedly prove his point about Spike. But now, Xander’s just gotten really full of himself. At least till you mention Anya to him. Then he gets all flustered and pouty and all with the sob-stories and pity-me syndrome.”

Janice shook her head. “I totally don't get that. I mean, he’s the one that screwed up. I know he was, like, scared or whatever, but he left her at the altar! We girls dream about that sort of thing from the time we're in Gymborees, and Anya's, like, older than old, so she was probably dreaming about this forever! Why didn't he just talk to Anya and tell her how he felt, instead of embarrassing her in front of everybody?”

Dawn shook her head. “I don’t know. What kills me is that Xander tried to rape Buffy, too. I guess he doesn't remember, or whatever, and he was possessed when he did it, but he still tried, and those urges had to come from somewhere, you know? He’s not the most perfect guy to walk the face of the earth, and Spike screwing up doesn’t give him the right to act like he is. I mean, Spike was soulless at the time, and he loved Buffy! But she dumped him, and it was eating him alive, you know?” The teenager quieted, staring at the ground. “I mean... all he wanted was for Buffy to love him back. That wasn’t so much to ask, was it?”

Janice sighed and ran her fingers through her hair before shouldering Dawn gently. “Let’s get off the gloomy topics, ‘kay? Maybe we can get back to the magazine aisle and find out if there’s anything on Seth Green, or Matthew Lillard... or James Marsters.” A wicked grin appeared on her lips. “You know, if you think about it, James kinda looks like Spike. Except, you know, he’s American, and not a vampire."

Dawn looked at Janice in horror. “Ewww! Oh, god, Janice, come on! Spike’s like my brother, I don’t wanna compare him to James! Ugh, I’m never gonna be able to look at him ever again!”

Janice simply giggled and led her further into the store. “Come on."

---

“Hey.” Nudge. “Hey.” Nudge. “Buffy. Yoo-hoo. Earth to Buffy?” Double nudge.

“Xander, if you don’t stop that, I’m going to flip you into the mayonnaise jars.”

Xander tilted his head. “Okay, mayo, good for the hair, but -- “ He caught Buffy’s glare. “Right. Anyway. Missing teenagers. Dawn and Janice went AWOL again."

Buffy rolled her eyes. “They’re probably just in the magazine aisle drooling over Justin Timberlake or something."

Xander grunted. “How come they can go waste time, but I can’t?"

The Slayer gave him a sideways glance. “Um, because they’re teenage girls, and you're a twenty-two year old guy, Xander."

“Awww, fine."

He couldn’t quite pull off the pouty lips. Not the way Spike could -- Train derailing! Avoid that thought, Buff! “Right. Get the cheesy chips, Xand."

A quick nod and grin. “Right away, M’lady.” He scuttled off.

Sigh. Buffy’s brain go boom.

As soon as Xander ran to the snack aisle, more than likely to come back with about fifteen varieties of chips, pretzels, and teeth-rotting, hyper-inducing, sugar-coma foods, Buffy pushed off, shoving the cart in the direction of the milk and dairy. She was just deciding between the Swiss cheese and the All-American white, when she stopped dead in her tracks -- not literally.

Shock of white-blonde hair. Extremely familiar. Moving toward the hair care section. Her heart thumped, and without a second thought, she took off after the head of hair.

Rounding the corner and nearly bouncing the cart off of a rather heavy-set woman that was trying to decide whether to go Platinum Champagne or Strawberry Wine – why where these shades named after alcohol? –Buffy chased down The Guy... wearing black jeans. He was wearing black jeans, she was short enough to see, and she could see his legs, and he was wearing black jeans!

He was just ahead of her, now, back turned, broad, muscular shoulders taut as he stretched up to capture the gel at the top of the shelf. Buffy bit her lower lip as she closed in. Oh, god. What was she going to say to him? What could she say to him? “Hi, Spike... Thanks for coming back and giving me a chance to kick your ass for leaving!” Or, oh, even better, “So... how's about a roll in the hay, for old times sake?"

Was she that desperate to make a complete and utter ass out of herself? God, if she knew him well at all, he would never let her live that down.

Oh, gods, he was right in front of her. She took a deep breath, then tentatively reached out a shaky hand to touch his shoulder. Buffy smiled weakly as he spun around...

Before it dropped completely. Not Spike. Random Guy with a bad bleach job. Now that she really looked, the hair was more yellowy-orange than platinum-white. And his body wasn’t as lean and sinewy as Spike’s. In fact, he looked like someone training to be on the cover of a bodice ripper.

Hmph. Random Guy was now giving her a weird Look. “Can I help you?” he asked in annoyance.

Buffy frowned and shook her head. Eyes were brown, not blue. No British accent. Not-Spike was a really shitty version of Her Spike. “No... Sorry,” she mumbled, veering away. “Thought you were someone else."

Random Guy’s weird Look softened apologetically, though it was obvious he was still confused. “Uh... sorry?” he called after her as she steered away.

Buffy sighed and turned the cart toward the snack aisles. “No... I am,” she whispered. She’d been so stupid. Desperation to hear Spike’s voice again, after all those months, coupled with her recent hallucinations, had made her completely ignore a dormant Slayer tingly that now seemed to be reacting for the sole purpose of driving her out of her mind.

Wait... no. It really was going off this time!

Buffy stopped and looked around, frowning. The presence was warm, comforting... enveloping her from every side. The presence was Spike’s. But the vampire was nowhere in sight. His presence was there... but he wasn’t.

Dammit, if he’d been killed and turned into a ghost for some reason, it only figured he’d come back and haunt her.

She inwardly cringed at the thought of Spike being dead -- permanently -- then shouldered it off. Her senses wouldn’t be going off so strongly if Spike was a former vampire turned ghostie. The only time the tinglies got so strong was when there was a vampire somewhere. And there was definitely a vampire in this building.

She sighed and shrugged off her thoughts again. It was just her hallucinations getting the best of her. Spending so much time with a man who in turn had spent over a century taking care of a crazy woman had finally rubbed off on her. He wasn’t back. And he wasn’t going to come back. And she really had to learn to stop imagining him in her head. And it would help if she stopped talking to herself as well.

Boy, that therapist was looking better and better by the day.

As predicted, Xander came back to the cart, bogged down with unnatural snacks. Dawn and Janice came down the aisle, laughing and giggling with a magazine apiece. A pleading glance at Buffy from the both of them, and the Slayer relented, rolling her eyes and signaling to them to toss the teenie-bops into the cart. Xander jogged over to the soda section and hauled down a few cheap, generic 2-liter pop bottles, placing them in the cart before he and his three female escorts made their way to the check-out.

Back in the hair-care aisle, Spike peered out at them, panting. Dammit; he’d really had to run that time to avoid Buffy catching him. As it was, he’d risked his demon being seen by shifting faces so as to double up his speed. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear the bint was following him!

He shook his head. Maybe, if he was dense enough, he’d allow himself to believe that she missed him. But when he’d seen her face as she’d confronted his look-a-like, she'd looked caught between wanting to hug him and wanting to hurt him.

Needless to say, Spike wasn’t going to let himself become disillusioned.

Sighing, he reached for a box of bleaching formula (his hair was sticking out at about an inch now, and he was certain that the roots looked repulsive) and slipped it into the pocket of the heavy brown leather jacket he still owned, despite the bad memory of her blatant rejection when he wore it last.

Shooting a glance at the check-out line near him—and more specifically, at Buffy—he shoved through the mob of people desperate to make it out before the store closed and they got screwed over, until he reached the exit. Then he plowed out as fast as his vampiric speed would allow him so he wouldn’t trip the alarm.

Heading for the side of the building, he flipped out the box of cigarettes he’d, er, liberated, from the 7-Eleven earlier, took one out and lit the fag with his Zippo before putting the box away. He leaned back and rested the back of his head against the wall, closing his eyes.

He wasn’t sure how long he remained in that position, but the sound of an angry female voice jolted him back to awareness instantly. Fearing that the Slayer had discovered him, he cowered further in the shadows and listened as silently as possible.

“Stop it! LET GO!” There was a frustrated, angry growl and a noise made by several things clattering to the ground. “I mean it! Let go of me, now!"

Now the sounds of a scuffle were making its way to his ears. Spike’s eyes widened when the scent of the screaming female’s blood hit him, and he snarled in fury.

That wasn't Buffy. Not at all. Buffy could take care of herself, and nobody could really hold her down.

The one screaming... that was Dawn. And may the Goddess help the bloody idiot who dared to attack one of his girls.




To be continued...