*Note: This chapter is from Spike’s POV.

This chapter is for DoS, the stories mentioned belong to her

***

Life is nothing without friendship, because it’s only in this relationship that one has the freedom to be oneself.



***



I look down at my purchases, three novels by Jess. That chit sure knows how to make a vamp’s heart wrench. Bloody fantastic with a pen, she is, and I should know. I’ve been reading for over a hundred years, now.



“What would the world say if it knew that, Spike, the Big Bad was reading sob-stories?”



I turn around and come face-to-face with a blue eyed teen. No, that’s not right. She’s twenty-two. A woman, not a whiney kid.



“They are classics in the makin’, not sob-stories. Sob-stories are what the poofter reads,” I manage to answer, before I’m knocked to the floor and can’t see any thing past my attacker’s cloud of dark hair. “Easy there, ‘Bit. Not that ‘m not happy to see ya, but we’re gettin’ funny looks from everyone.”



Dawn picks up the books her hug had knocked out of my hand, moments earlier, and turns them over. Suddenly, she squeals and all eyes in the shop focus on us, once more.



“Trusting You! Oh my god that’s a great movie. It stars my favorites, James Marsters and Sarah Michelle Gellar. It like, won almost all the Oscars last year! What’re you doing reading a book about it? You should be watching the movie, Spike!”



I laugh. That’s my Nibblet, still clueless about great literature. “The movie’s based on the book, ‘Bit.”



“Oh!”



“So, how’s your Becky?”

“Peachy. We’re having great sex. Well, sort of. It’s kinda hard to have sex when you live in two separate continents.”



Okay… So she’s all grown up now, but sex and Dawn together is a concept I’ve yet to get used to. She must have noticed the look on my face because she gives me *the great Summers’ eye roll routine*.



“Seriously, Spike, I’m not a kid anymore. Bet, you’ve been having sex since you were fourteen!”



“Sixteen, actually.” Alright, so that’s a blatant lie. Anyways, I probably shouldn’t be discussing matters of the bedroom with the ‘Bit. The answer was sort of automatic.



“Oooo… Who was it with?” she asks, full of excitement.



“Er... a bird,” I reply nonchalantly.



“A bird? Oh, you mean a girl! Well, that’s obvious. I was looking for a name.”



“Does it matter?”



“Sure it does. You lost your virginity to this girl. I’ve every right to know her name.”



“Hannah,” I answer and hope she’ll drop the topic. She doesn’t. We reach my car and I hold the door open for her. Ever the Victorian gentleman. Of course, there were no blasted cars then. ‘Bit spends the entire ride asking questions about my first kiss, first crush and so on.



***

We enter the club and I scan the crowd for my friends, finally spotting them at the bar. ‘Bit, apparently, saw them before me and was already making her way towards them. Some scrawny wanker had the misfortune of being in the way and was knocked aside, promptly. Dawn threw a ‘sorry’ over her shoulders and continued on her way. I shook my head and followed.



“Dawnie!”



“Charlotte!”



Great, more squealing! What’s with the fairer sex and squealing?



Charlotte and Dawn do the whole hugs and air-kisses thing and then launch into a conversation about shoes. Forget smokes, they should be making patches for footwear-craze. I swear, the entire time I’d stayed in the Summers’ basement, I’d dreamt of drowning in footwear! Who wouldn’t, living in a house full of bints?



“Hey-he… D.A., looking good girl! If you get any hotter, we’ll have to rope in the military to keep the guys off you,” Psycho exclaimed in a voice loud enough to be heard by half the club, despite the bleedin’ music. Dawn just ruffled his chestnut colored hair in response, like she always does.



“Where did you come from?” Adi always does ask the stupid questions.



“Oh, I got kidnapped by a snorlax demon, who traded me for a Siamese, so he could play kitten poker. And, I’m here with my new owner, a Karlfig demon,” Nibblet quipped.



The bint can be as amusing as her sister at times. Wait, not going into that territory.



“Karlfig’s not a demon and snorlax's a pokemon,” Charlotte observed mildly. “Let’s get our derrières on the dance floor, people!”



“Derrière? You wanna dance or do yoga?” I ask. For a properly educated British girl, she sure can do wonders with the King’s bleedin’ language.



“I amend, feet,” she scowled and marched off, her husband trailing behind like a soddin’pup.



“Adi, man, you bring new meaning to the phrase, joru ka gulam,” Psycho called after them, as he too made his way towards the mass of dancing bodies.





“What does that mean? In fact, what language was that? Can’t you just stick to English?” Dawn scrunched up her nose in a way highly reminiscence of Big Sis.



“Urdu. Means, wife’s slave.”



***

“So, you are now a permanent inhabitant of Shoryaveersthan ?”



“Maybe not permanent, Charlotte . I mean Becky’s life’s in L.A…”



“…and yours is with Becky,” Charlotte finished for her.



I watch my friends interact with my almost-little-sister. Friends. If someone had told me seven years back that I’d be having four humans as best friends, I’d have bloody laughed. But, they are my friends. Real friends, not like my demon *buddies*. People who care about me, around whom I don’t need to be the Big Bad, who won’t judge me on my vamp status or shady past. We’re not like the Scoobies. Sure, we do the whole world-saving thing together but not because we live on the Hellmouth. We’re not innocent kids. We’ve got our demons, but we fight them. We don’t judge one another.



Apocalypses don’t come to this island, so I go looking for them. These people come with me. The fight’s not their scene but they still play along and risk all because *I* choose to do this and they choose to stand by *me*



Family. We’re a family. Trust is our strongest point. No, love is. I love these wankers and they love me. What’s more, they say it. It’s bleedin’ amazing!



“Earth to Spike.”



“Huh?”



“I said, I want to go to the White Voices Academy ,” Dawn repeats.



“Um… sure. I’ll get you enrolled tomorrow. We can celebrate by watchin’ Enslaved Love. That Marsters bloke’s in it and the blond chit, too.”



‘Bit’s eyes are as big as saucers now. “Hey, I’ve been waiting for that movie to come out! And The Right Thing, too. That’s releasing next month! I’m so curious about the story.”



“You’ve fretted o'er nothin’. They’re both based on Jess’ novels. Belonging’s been adapted into Enslaved love ,” I tell her. “You could’ve read the books.” She doesn’t take in a soddin’ word and continues to babble about James Marsters’ abs.



***

“Are you going to see Buffy?” Muara asks timidly, twirling a brown lock around her finger.



I’ve known Maura for eight years. After getting my soul, I was in no condition to go anywhere. She found me in those caves and took care of me. It didn’t matter what I was. She’s the person I trust beyond everyone because I know, if there’s one person who won’t even hurt me by accident, it’s Maura. The girl sees good in everyone no matter who or what they are. Oh, she’s not naïve. Nor, does she lack self-confidence. If she’s shy about saying what’s on her mind, it’s because she’s afraid she’ll hurt someone. The bird’s never even off’d a demon. Sometimes, I look at her and think, 'is this amazing person really my friend?' She can see past my Big Bad persona into the heart of the poet within. Puts me in mind of Joyce, she does.



“I’m scared,” I wouldn’t have admitted this to anyone else.



“She may not want a relationship with you, but she cares about you. I don’t know how much, but she does. You want to meet her, so maybe, you should.”



“Of course you shouldn’t!” Charlotte slams her car door and makes her way towards us, her eyes blazing.



My friends know all about my whirlwind relationship with Buffy. The bathroom incident, our last conversation in L.A. They accept my love for Buffy. Lottie doesn’t.



“Stop it Spike! Why are you so hell bent on hurting yourself over that bitch?”



“So Dawn got home safely?” sensing the tension, Maura tries to change the topic.



“Yah, she did,” Lottie answers, before turning on me again. “Why can’t you just accept the facts and move on! There’re plenty of girls. Would it kill you to fall in love with someone who’s not insane, or a total bitch?”



“You don’t know her! Don’t say anything ‘bout her! It’s none of your soddin’ business!”



Even my temper’s flaring now. Maura excuses herself, saying she needs to call her girlfriend.



“Hell, it’s my business! You’re my brother, Goddamnit!”



tbc



***



A/N: fallen_angel couldn’t find who wrote the friendship line in the beginning of the fic, but it wasn’t her

A lot of you are confused but just trust us. We know where we’re going. When this fic is over you'll have all the answers.

You’re wondering about the last line? I’ll explain in chapter 5 or 6 or I’m evil…



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