Much to Spike's surprise, he didn't receive a visit from any of the Scoobies the morning following the incident at the Bronze. Of course, the Whelp had work and Red probably had classes. The howling mob would be on his doorstep with torches soon enough he told himself; no reason to wish them any sooner.

That there was no sign of Buffy was no surprise.

When Dawn walked in that afternoon, he looked up to give a smile and went back to work on the order he was packing. Customer wanted to pay for FedEx, it was getting out that day.

"How long have you been dating my sister?"

Dawn chose to deliver this inquiry at the edge of the steps leading down into the body of the shop. Spike looked up sharply, the number of crystals already counted out vanishing from his head. She was glaring at him, one hand cocked on her hip while the other held the strap of her dangling book bag.

Keenly aware several customers had turned to witness this event, he did his best to stay calm. "Can we discuss this later?"

She moved behind the counter with a sulky grace, dropping the bookbag with a thud. "Is this where you tell me that there are things I'm too young to know?"

"No, this is where I tell you I need to get this packed before FedEx gets here in twenty minutes. Besides," he glanced around, "I'd rather have this conversation when there are fewer customers in the shop."

She leaned on the glass, watching as he carefully counted the crystals again. "Don't you want to know what Willow and Xander said when they got back to the house?"

Satisfied with the count, Spike began gently stacking the crystals inside a tissue-lined box. "Red, yes. The Whelp? I couldn't give a damn."

Dawn picked up a crystal and began toying with it. "What about what Buffy had to say?"

He stopped his work for a moment, resisting the urge to sweep everything off the counter just to hear a rather satisfying and cathartic crash. When he spoke again, his voice was tight, every word precise. "I'd really rather not talk about this right now, Dawn. Get on with your chores while I finish." He plucked the crystal from her hand. "And don't play with these. Some customers think it upsets the vibrations."

"Cranky vampire," she muttered under her breath as she stalked away. Spike decided not to give her the satisfaction of knowing he'd heard her words. Clearly things had not gone well last night. He hadn't expected it to, given Xander's reaction to the news. Part of him wanted to know exactly what the Whelp had to say so he could extract vengeance for each insult; the rest of him didn't need to hear any more. Buffy's friends hated him and that was that. He was only hanging around now to help Anya. And watch Dawn. And Buffy.

Just as he closed up the package and slapped the form on the box, the bell over the shop door jingled. The figure entering was short and slim, hair cut in a golden bob that hung just above her shoulders. Without hesitation, she made straight for the counter.

***

Buffy looked up at Spike. "I'm sorry about last night." There was a hint of redness about her eyes as if she'd been crying. There was worry there, too.

"You couldn't have known Harris would hear."

"I meant about what I said; I had no right to suggest you couldn't see anyone, no right to question what you were doing."

Buffy began to sniff and those beautiful green orbs rimmed with tears. He knew he should be stern, but his heart melted. Coming out from behind the counter, he took her in his arms, her head coming to settle on his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I wasn't the best behaved either, pet. Just wanted to help you and ended up losing my temper."

"Spike." Her arms tightened around him, pressing closer. "I don't want to fight anymore. Can we…can we try again?"

She lifted her head from his shoulder to stare hopefully up at him, chewing on her lower lip as she waited for his answer.

***

"…And ten ounces of pennyroyal. That should hold me for now."

Spike blinked. The woman standing before him was most definitely not Buffy. "Um, let's start with the pennyroyal."

He forced himself to focus on what she'd requested, measuring out the herbs. Taking a good look at her as she reached into her purse for her wallet, Spike wondered how he could have possibly imagined she was Buffy. Because you wanted it to be Buffy, you stupid git. Stop daydreaming.

FedEx arrived for the pickup, leaving Spike with nothing else to concentrate on. Worse, the shop had virtually emptied of customers and Dawn was standing expectantly by the research table. He considered holding his ground until the lone woman perusing the bookshelves near the front left in hopes of more customers arriving, but dismissed the idea. They had to talk and sooner was probably better than later.

Spike wandered over to the table and pulled out a chair. Dawn quickly did the same, her face expectant as they sat. Had it only been a year ago they'd broken into this shop in search of Giles' diaries? "Where do you want to start?"

"You and Buffy."

No surprise there. "What did she tell you?"

Now it was Dawn's turn to hesitate. "Not much," she admitted. "She came back with Willow and Xander and they were fighting. When Buffy came upstairs, she shut herself in her room and didn't come out this morning."

"Is she okay?" This was hardly promising news.

Dawn shrugged. "I suppose so. Willow tried to convince her to come down to breakfast and I heard Buffy telling her to go away. So. You and Buffy."

He could list a hundred reasons why Buffy should give her side of the story first. None of them would hold water with Dawn. Spike considered his words carefully. "You know how I feel about your sister. I love her and nothing's going to change that."

"But something changed. I mean, the two of you dating…"

"Unless Buffy used that word, I wouldn't call what we had 'dating.'"

She frowned, puzzling over his words. "Oh." Her eyes widened. Oh."

Spike suddenly found himself very interested in the wood grain of the table, tracing the pattern with his finger. "Buffy wouldn't do that," Dawn insisted. "Mom always said you weren't supposed to sleep with someone unless you loved them. I mean, Buffy loved Angel and she at least thought she loved Riley. Okay, there was this guy Parker, but that was just a mistake and…"

"I know all about Parker," Spike said quietly.

"You do?"

Lovely patterns on the table. "Yeah. I was standing right behind her when he really dumped her." He shrugged. "It was one of those times I was trying to kill her."

"So Buffy doesn't love you."

He shook his head. "She's frightened and wanted something to hold on to. I was there, willing…"

He shoved himself to a standing position, unable to sit any longer. "We did, we broke up, end of story."

The shop was empty now, just the two of them. It'd be quiet for the next hour until the after work crowd trickled in, keeping Tara busy until closing. If Spike wanted an honest conversation with Dawn, now was the time. The problem was, where to start?

He started pacing in front of the counter, searching for the words. "It's complicated, Platelet. Don't want to share a lot of it. Not because you're too young, but because it's personal."

"That's what Buffy told them last night."

He stopped pacing and turned, unable to avoid looking at her any longer. She watched him solemnly, appearing somehow older than her fifteen years. "When they came in, Xander was yelling, demanding to know how Buffy could possibly do something like that. Willow kept trying to calm him down but she was asking the same question, just in a squeakier voice. Buffy kept telling them it was complicated and it was over and she didn't want to talk about it anymore."

"Is that when she told you to go upstairs?" he asked, remembering her comment about being 'too young" when she came in.

Dawn shook her head. "Willow suggested maybe I should go up to bed 'cause it was a school night and it was grown-up talk. I didn't want to go, but Buffy asked me to because she needed to focus on talking to Willow and Xander. She said she'd talk to me later."

"So you trotted up the stairs and sat down at the top, just like you did last summer when they'd try to send you to bed."

"You never acted like you knew." There was a hint of a smile, momentarily lifting the clouds.

"They treat you too damn young. After all you'd been through with Glory, you think they'd…"

He stopped, knowing that well-traveled road was fruitless. Feeling a bit calmer, he came back to his chair. "What happened next?"

"Xander kept bringing up Angel and how things had gone all wrong with him. He talked about Miss Calendar, how she died because Buffy couldn't stake Angel when she should have. He wanted to know what Buffy would do if your chip stopped working, if she'd be able to do it this time." Dawn paused, then continued in a smaller voice. "Spike, is your chip still working?"

The sixty-four thousand-dollar question. "Yes," he said firmly. "It's still working. Probably would have hurt Harris otherwise."

She looked relieved and he decided not to add the rider that the chip worked on everyone except Buffy. "Buffy told him that wasn't an issue at this point and she didn't want to think about it. So Willow told her that it was something she should think about because she's the Slayer and killing vampires is what she does.

"Xander agreed and told her it was slaying she was supposed to do, not…" Dawn trailed off, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Then Willow said it's not like they brought her back from the dead just so she could sleep with you."

Spike sat very still for a moment as Dawn's words sank in. Then, in an instant, his hand curled around a heavy book that lay on the table and hurled it against the counter, the glass front shattering on impact. "Bloody hell!" he roared, out of his chair and moving, fists clenching and unclenching. "Haven't they done enough? They ripped her out of heaven and she's done everything she can to live up to their expectations. Do they want to take away any happiness just because it doesn't fit in their neat little package?"

Broken glass crunched beneath his boots as he paced. "I will kill them. I swear I will kill them both. I don't care if it makes my head explode; they're not going to treat her like that."

"Spike?"

He didn't stop his pacing, didn't bother to look at her, lost in the rage that was growing within him. "Didn't bring her back to sleep with me, eh? No; brought her back so she could be their perfect little slayer, perfect little friend. No thought to what she wants."

"Spike!"

His head swung toward her, near snarl on his lips. "What?"

Dawn was on her feet as well, staring at him with worried eyes. The earlier hint of wisdom and maturity was vanished, very much replaced once more by the teenage girl. "Stop talking about killing them. You're frightening me."

For a moment he wanted to tell her to go to hell, that he was only contemplating what they so richly deserved. But this was Dawn and her words touched a place he didn't even want to admit existed. His anger didn't evaporate but the flame banked itself, enough for him wrap her in a hug. "Don't want to frighten my 'Bit."

She squeezed back. "You don't. Just when you go postal."

He didn't move, just held onto her and let the contact help calm him. Here at least was one Summers girl he was sure of. Only when the shop bell jingled did he let go, stepping back to see who had entered. Tara bustled in, juggling a shawl, purse and book bag. "I really need to give myself more time to get here from campus. I stop to talk to someone and I suddenly realize I'm going to be late if I don't rush."

She started down the stairs and stopped, her eyes taking in the glass shards. "Wh-wh-what happened?"

Spike sighed. "Lost m'temper. Dawn, would you get me the dust pan?"

Tara approached cautiously, eying the book that lay among the debris in the display counter. "That was s-s-some temper." She looked up. "Was it about last night? I m-mean, did Xander come in?"

Her stutter was out in full force, and he had to wonder if it was because of the destruction or last night's revelations. He knew Tara would try to put the best face on things she could, no matter how distasteful she might find the idea of him and Buffy. The strain would show, though, sooner or later. "No Xander. Dawn had some questions for me."

Dawn returned with the dust pan and broom. "I think there are some gloves in the training room," she offered. "Protect your hands."

She was off again before he could say yea or nay. "What d-d-did she ask to upset you?" Tara's voice was gentle even as her tongue tripped over the syllables.

He passed off the broom and pan and went to fetch the trash can. "Wasn't what she asked; it's what she told me they said."

Tara didn't reply, starting to make a few tentative sweeping motions. "You pick the merchandise out of the case," he told her. "I'll start on the bigger pieces of glass."

"I found the gloves," Dawn announced just as he reached for the first piece. "Put them on."

She wouldn't stop fussing until he had slipped them onto his hands. It pleased him, the idea of someone fussing over him, worry if he cut his fingers on broken glass. Didn't matter that the leather workgloves, probably left behind by Xander, would make handling the glass a little more awkward, lessen his ability to get a good grip. Dawn cared if he wore the gloves, so he would.

Tara paused, a small carved figure and a few pieces of jewelry in one hand. "Dawn, why don't you head on home? I think you're done for the day and I need to talk to Spike."

Spike dropped a large piece into the trash can, listening to it break into smaller pieces as it hit bottom. Dawn flinched at the sound. "Are you sure?" she asked. "I could stay…"

Another piece into the trash can. Another crash. "I'm sure. You and I can talk tomorrow. I'll be here all afternoon."

"Mandy's supposed to be here." Spike picked up another piece. If he held it a little higher before he dropped it, it'd make a more satisfying noise. "We're supposed to talk about the mixer."

"I'll call her in a minute and change the appointment. She can come in Monday morning. I don't have class then." Somehow the stutter had disappeared and firmer tone taken its place. "We'll talk about this tomorrow," she assured Dawn. "Talk to Buffy if she's home. Oh, I think there's a 'Closed for Inventory' sign behind the counter. Would you put it on the door? I don't think we need any customers in here right now."

"Demon-girl will be annoyed that we've lost her sales."

"Anya will survive. Right now, we need to clean up this mess and see about getting someone in to replace it." She gave Dawn a hug. "See you tomorrow."

Dawn looked a bit rebellious, but she went, leaving the two of them alone in the shop. Spike and Tara continued to clean in silence for a few minutes before she asked, "What did Xander say that set you off?"

"Wasn't Harris this time. It was Red. Apparently told Buffy she hadn't brought her back so she could sleep with me."

"Oh." A long, uncomfortable pause. "I'm sure she didn't mean…"

Spike just looked at her. Tara was rationalizing and they both knew it. Silence descended except for the crunch and tinkle of glass being moved. When she'd retrieved most of the items from the case, Tara began to make calls. Mandy was put off until Monday and the glazier would show up between nine and ten.

Spike worked. Sift goods out of the rubble. Drop the larger pieces in the trash. Try to ignore the uneasy quiet that hung between him and Tara. So far, she'd voiced no opinion on the revelation that he and Buffy had been involved. Hell, he and Dawn hadn't even actually worked their way through it. He'd just lost his temper.

Eventually, the debris was cleared and the display case empty. Spike had taken the trash to the alley door, planning to dump it when the sun was low enough in another twenty or thirty minutes. At a loss for what else to do, he grabbed the broom and began sweeping.

Tara was standing by the cash register, chewing on her lower lip. "I'm sorry," she said at last.

He paused, considering the small pile of dust he'd raked up. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, pet."

"I'm sorry they don't like you and that they've forgotten everything you did over the summer." She looked at him with an expression that reminded him so much of Joyce. "I'm sorry they don't think your feelings are real."

The implications of her own thoughts in the words warmed him, but he couldn't let himself drop into soppy sentimentality. "Watch it, Glinda. You're veering from the crowd, proving yourself a rebel."

"And I'll never, ever be any good?" A smile quirked one side of her mouth up. "According to my family, I passed that point long ago -- and that was before they knew about my preferences."

"Yeah, well, your family's a real prize; about on the same level as mine." Spike sighed, resting his hands atop the broom. "Sorry about the shock last night. Believe me, it wasn't the way I wanted the news to come out."

Something flickered across her face. "What?" he asked.

"Well, I guess I'm not actually breaking any confidences now, since you two are 'out.' Buffy told me about the two of before the wedding -- before her birthday, actually. It was when there was the problem with that girl, the one the nerds tried to frame Buffy for."

Spike nodded, remembering those events all too well.

"She asked me to look into the spell Willow used to bring her back. She wanted to know what was wrong since you could…hurt her."

He wanted to know and he didn't want to know. Spike had told Xander Willow knew that if there was even a part of Buffy in what she brought back, she knew he wouldn't allow her to get rid of it if it all went wrong.

Tara took the decision from him, continuing her explanation. "She's just…shifted on a cellular level somehow, just enough that she doesn't register on your chip. Otherwise, there's nothing wrong with her."

You came back wrong. Big bad vampires weren't supposed to feel remorse. Big bad vampires weren't supposed to feel like Class-A jerks, either. Spike felt both.

"She was pretty shaken by the news and, well, that's when she told me about the two of you. She didn't say much, just that you and she…" Tara trailed off, looking hesitant. "I don't think I should tell you any more, but I thought you should know someone else knew."

He could feel the only chance he might have to talk rationally about this to someone slipping away. "So I probably shouldn't burden you with how I feel. After all, don't want to catch you in the middle of all this."

Having made his point, he went back to sweeping, deliberately turning his back to her. Imagining it was little pieces of Willow and Xander made it easier, even pleasant. Picturing a finger here, a piece of kidney there, he was surprised when a hand came to rest gently on his arm. "Sweetie, if you need to talk, don't shut me out."

Her voice was kind and gentle and again he was reminded of Joyce. No surprise that out of all her circle, Buffy had chosen Tara to confide in. "I love her," he said simply.

She nodded. "I know. I saw it last summer. You were mourning her every day she was gone. When she came back, you were so careful of her, like you were afraid she was going to break."

"I was. I still am. I just wish I could convince her of what she feels."

"I don't think Buffy knows what she feels. She's confused about you and Willow and Xander aren't going to help. What I heard last night before I left…I don't know why Xander hates you so much."

He chuckled, a dry sound. "It's all bound up in him and her and the Great Poof. That's Angel, y'know. The previous vampire boyfriend."

"Oh, he was at…" Tara didn't finish, but Spike knew what she meant. Angel had shown up when they'd buried Buffy, all broody and mourning. Spike had stayed as far away from him during the proceedings as possible.

She raised a determinedly cheery face to him. "Why don't you finish with the floor and get the trash out -- I think the sun's low enough -- and I'll close out the cash register. Then we can go for some coffee and you can tell me about how you met Buffy. I've never heard the story."

"Gonna let me try to curl your hair? After all, I'm evil and did evil things." Spike lifted his eyebrows suggestively at her. The idea of someone wanting to just sit and talk was immensely appealing. It didn't make things better, but it made them less lonely.

Tara laughed, pushing back a long straight strand. "If you can actually make my hair curl, then I know you're practicing the black arts."

***

A half hour later, Spike escorted Tara out the door, the sound of the gate sliding into place echoing through the empty shop. "I think that's all we'll get from that location today," Warren said, playing with the controls to switch which camera view was seen on the large monitor, his eyes flickering over the smaller monitors as he worked. "The Slayer's pretty much isolated at the moment. We should move soon."

"Do you really think she was dead and they brought her back?" Jonathon asked. He'd been quiet since they'd watched the argument between the Slayer and her friends last night, thanks to the camera Warren had hidden in the living room of her home. Lifting his eyes, he could see the feed from it on one of the monitors, showing Dawn Summers sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. If Warren selected it and activated the sound, they'd know what TV show she was watching. Last night it had caught the angry words and recriminations. It'd been disturbing; in high school, Jonathon had always envied the close friendship he'd seen between Buffy, Willow and Xander. Even if they weren't the most popular kids in school, they had their own special style and sparkle.

"Does it matter?" Warren continued to flip through the different cameras placed in the Scoobies' homes, the Magic Box, the Bronze, Spike's crypt. At the moment, none of them showed anything of interest. "Soon it's not going to be an issue."

"Shame they broke up," Andrew said, reaching for a new bag of chips. "The Slayer and Spike, I mean. There was some good stuff on the crypt cam." He leered and Jonathon took a small step away from him.

Warren reached over and picked up a disc case. "I burned you a 'Best of' DVD. Go knock yourself out."

Andrew nearly lunged for the disc, grabbing it out of Warren's hand before scurrying away. "That'll keep him quiet for a while." Warren turned his gaze on Jonathon. "What?"

"Nothing," he lied. Free cable porn was one thing, but he knew Buffy. He'd lusted after Buffy, thought of seducing her when he'd convinced everyone he was the big wheel in Sunnydale. Watching her with Spike was…unsettling. "I'm going to go get some sleep."

"You do that," Warren said. "Need you rested up for the big mojo the next phase is going to need."

Jonathon's dreams were far from easy that night.

On to Episode 4: Reactions II

Back to Episode 2: The Mixer