A/N: Thank you to Diabola once again for beta-ing this fic. You're wonderful to me :)

And thanks to those who have reviewed. I promise I'm writing as fast as I can ;)

Cara Mia Chapter 5

Spike had returned to the hotel after the incident in the cemetery only to have the receptionist hand him an envelope. He recognised the handwriting as Angel's, and decided to postpone opening the letter until after he'd investigated the scotch in his room's minibar, as it was likely anything Angel had to say would not be good. Three small bottles later, the vampire lay on the bed and unfolded the message his grandsire had left.

William,
I know you're not ready to come back to LA yet, and I can't blame you. I know how hard it is to stand on the outside looking in, and also how hard it is to resist the temptation to see her just one more time. Do what you have to do to move on. But William, remember this: she has the chance at a long and happy life now, and it must be her choice who she shares that with. Neither you nor I have the right to expect anything from her, especially if she has found her happiness. It sticks in my throat that it could be with the Immortal, but if you love her, you can't interfere.

Be careful. Not just with her, but with yourself.

Angel

Spike swallowed round the lump in his throat, his fists clenching instinctively. Just because Angel didn't have the guts to fight for Buffy, the nancy boy expected Spike to roll with it.

'You never knew me very well at all, did you, Angelus?' Spike mused.

Granted, since his return to land of the flesh having, Spike had been determined to let Buffy get on with her life. But he didn't try to fool himself into thinking it was for any altruistic reason.

'You haven't gone to her before now because you were afraid. Afraid to see that in the time you were gone, she found someone else and forgot you. Bloody good work, Spike. If she wasn't with the Immortal, would you have ever fought for her?' he taunted himself. The blond vampire gripped his head in both hands. He was such an idiot. He'd not gone to Buffy because he couldn't face the idea of another rejection, especially after her last words to him. If she took them back, didn't want him after all this time, he'd have nothing to hold onto.

"Wanker!" Spike yelled as he threw himself off the bed to pace the room. If he'd told Buffy as soon as he'd reappeared in the Wolfram and Hart offices, there was every chance she wouldn't be with that bastard now. Didn't she say she would always come for him? The blond was so angry he knew he'd have to find something to hurt or he'd never be able to spend the day cooped up inside, so he grabbed his duster and headed back down to the lobby. In the two hours left before sunrise, he was sure he'd be able to find something unsavoury to beat the living hell out of.

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Dawn heard the telephone ringing, drawing her out of an exhausted slumber, and stumbled blearily into the hallway.

"Pronto?" She yawned into the receiver.

"Dawn? It's Rupert Giles," the Watcher added unnecessarily, given the girl would recognise his voice anywhere.

"Hey Giles. What's up?"

"I've some information for Buffy about the...err...creature you ran into last night. Is Buffy there?"

Dawn felt her blood pressure rising.

"Giles, I don't know what Buffy's told you, but it was Spike. Spike's alive. Well, as alive as he ever gets," Dawn qualified.

"I know you miss him, Dawn, and I know his death was hard on you - " Giles started reasonably.

"It was him, Giles. It really was. God, why won't anyone believe me? He says Andrew knew but didn't tell anyone because he made him promise not to. He's been back for months!" Dawn's voice rose uncontrollably, rousing Buffy. Her older sister rushed into the hall.

"Who is it, Dawnie?"

"Giles. Did you call him last night and tell him Spike was some kind of demon thing?" the teenager demanded.

Buffy sighed. "Yes, I called him. Whatever's pretending to be Spike needs to be made to stop, and I asked Giles to do some research so I know what I'm up against," she held her hand out for the phone.

"I just don't believe you!" Dawn yelled in exasperation and thrust the handset into her sister's outstretched palm, before storming back to her room and slamming the door. Pulling out clothes for the day, she wondered how she was going to stop Buffy from hunting and killing Spike, and how she was going to make her sister see that it really was the vampire they both loved.

'Andrew. Andrew knew....' Of course. The answer had been staring her right in the face. With a look of determination on her features that was uncannily like that of the Slayer, Dawn hurried to the bathroom and made ready to go out.

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Spike's energy was fading fast, along with his control of his temper. He'd been in the catacombs under the city for a good hour or so, and there was neither hide nor hair of vampires, demons or even ne'er-do-wells. In another few minutes he was going to say sod it and get back to the hotel before daybreak, probably to find a larger cousin to the tiny bottles of liquor his room held and make very good friends with it. 

'Bugger it. What kind of town is this? It's like a ship with no rats!'

If he'd been thinking clearly he'd have remembered the old saying, but his mind was a maelstrom of anger and frustration. Not to mention the omnipresent lust that contact with Buffy had awakened. Even after all this time, even after her death and his, just one brief touch of the Slayer's skin brought back the feelings that Willow's misguided "will be done" spell had thrust into the spotlight. He often thought of that as the time he'd first fallen in love with Buffy, in spite of anything that Drusilla had said. Poor Dru, so helplessly afloat in the stream of time that truly, Spike didn't think she had any clue of chronology. It made it hard to hold any resentment of her for the chaos demon: Dru was simply retaliating for something that had yet to happen.

Deep in his own thoughts, the vampire was unaware that four shadows had peeled from the walls of the gloomy tunnels and moved quietly towards him. One shadow lifted a small dart gun in its hand and when Spike sniffed, catching a distinctly chemical scent, he had no time to react before the needle embedded itself in his skin and he dropped to the dirt floor. As his vision dimmed, he cursed his stupidity but more than that, he vowed revenge on the Immortal.

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Dawn hammered on the door to an apartment on the other side of Rome, a scowl firmly in position on her face. She paused long enough to hear scuffles on the other side, and hushed voices, then resumed pounding on the wood.

"Andrew! I know you're in there. Get your ass out here right now!" She made sure her voice was loud enough to disturb other residents of the building, smirking to herself. It was really all about projecting.

A few seconds later she was rewarded with the sound of bolts being drawn back, and the door opened a crack to reveal a very haggard and rumpled Andrew in mismatched pyjamas and a grubby powder blue robe.

"Dawn? Ummm...what did I do now? It's not Buffy is it? She's not mad at me for something?" Andrew's watery blue eyes were bloodshot, wide with anxiety, his features screwing up in anticipation of yet another chewing out. The girl on the doorstep pushed hard against the wood and it bounced off his forehead, making him step back in pain and surprise. Dawn quickly manoeuvred into the gap his retreat had left and put her hands on her hips. Andrew rubbed at his face. The strawberry blond hair was mussed, knotted and tangled on one side while flat on the other.

"Buffy's not mad yet, but Andrew, you should really be worrying about how mad I am right now," Dawn warned him. God, how could he have kept Spike's resurrection from them?

"What've I done?" Andrew whined, genuinely confused. He had the hangover from hell, and Isabella's couch was none too comfy, so he hadn't slept very well. 

Dawn shoved Andrew into a chair.

"How about knowing Spike was back and not saying a damn thing to Buffy or me?" She challenged him, leaning close to him. Oh, that had been a mistake, he smelled like Spike used to after he and Buffy had a fight. She repressed the urge to fan her hand in front of her.

The young man gaped, his blue eyes round.

"H...How do you know?" He was so completely screwed. If the Slayer and her sister knew Spike was back, he was dead, no doubt after a prolonged period of intense pain.

"Because he's here in Rome. He came to see me. And he told me he happened to see you in LA. Want to tell me what the hell you were doing when you decided not to share? Spill, Andrew. Right now, or I swear to God you're going to wish Buffy was here to stop me from kicking your nerdy ass!"

Tears filled the would-be Watcher's eyes when Dawn threatened him. He'd never been very strong, and the young girl had a brief pang of guilt at his distress. The next second that guilt was washed away by a fresh wave of anger. So much time lost, all because Andrew had, for once in his life, actually kept his mouth shut.

"P...Promise....He made me puh-puh-promise," he hiccupped through his sobs. "it was wh-when we went to go and get Dana, and we talked, and he said he'd handle it...." Andrew's voice tailed off when Dawn stood back, a look of disbelief on her face.

"So, just so we're clear...You go to LA to get Dana because we don't trust Angel now he's working for Wolfram and Hart, and in your debriefing you just failed to mention that Spike was there, because, y'know, hiding secrets held by the people we don't trust is just so of the good? Sheesh! Well, it's lucky for you I need you in one piece, 'cos otherwise? You'd be my new practice dummy." She was only half-joking.

"Ummmm...." Andrew suddenly became fascinated by the carpet, knowing he was about to make the situation worse, but somehow unable to resist digging a deeper hole for himself.

"I have to tell you something else. Spike and Angel were here, two days ago. Both of them. And I kinda told them....I kinda told them to go away," he mumbled. Dawn whirled back to him, her hand wrapping around his throat and forcing him to meet her furious gaze.

"You told them what?" She screeched. Unconsciously, her hand was tightening around Andrew's windpipe and he started to struggle for breath, turning red and slapping at her wrist. She noticed his flailing and looked down.

"Oh!" She jumped back, letting the young man suck air into his lungs frantically, coughing. "Sorry," she muttered, not entirely meaning it.

"Get dressed, Andrew. We're going to see Buffy, and you're going to tell her everything. Because right now? She thinks Spike is some kind of doppelganger demon, and if we can't stop her, she'll kill him."

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Thirty minutes later Andrew and Dawn were back at the Summers' apartment, Andrew still buttoning his shirt.

"Buffy? Andrew's got something important to tell us. Buffy?" The brunette called, dropping her keys on a small table near the door. The place was silent, with no sign of her older sister.

Andrew hovered at the entrance. "She's not here, Dawnie. I'll...I'll just go and get some coffee..." he inched away, only to be prevented by the girl's hand on his collar.

"No you don't. You're staying with me till we find Buffy and you can explain to her why you didn't say something sooner," she told him.

After making sure that the geek wasn't going anywhere, Dawn went to look in the kitchen, discovering a note on the fridge.

Dawn,
The Immortal has asked me to go with him to his house in the country today, something about the first pressing. Guess that's a vineyard term or something, but you know me, I tend to avoid the demon that is drink. Should be back just after dinner. Don't go very far till I get back, okay? I don't want you to run into that demon again until we've figured out what it is. I have my cell with me, so call if you see it, or if you need me.

Love

Buffy

"Crap," Dawn cursed under her breath. Andrew's confessional was just going to have to wait.