From the Sunnydale Press classifieds:

Sales Clerk, established Sunnydale occult supply shop. Temp. position 4-5 months. Exp. preferred. Apply in person M-F, 10-3, The Magic Box, 5124 Main Street

***

"There's something very empowering about magic, how it lets us keep touch with our ancient sisters. It's a way for women to take back the night."

Spike just stared. If the woman sitting across from him had ever done a spell, he'd stop drinking blood.

***

Dyed black hair hung straight down her back, smoky color on her lids to compliment the nearly black lipstick and nose ring she wore. If he were casting a bad vampire movie, Spike decided the girl would make a picture-perfect minion.

"So, do you offer a good employee discount?" she asked in a nasal tone that made him wince. "That's important. Don't know if I can work here if you don't give a discount."

***

This application actually made Spike smile. "I have to admit that I'm impressed by your experience."

"The customers seemed to like me. You can contact Ms. Dean at Macy's; the number is on the application." The girl, neatly scrubbed and well put together, smiled. "Are the work hours flexible? I have several trips planned over the new few months and I really would prefer not to give them up. There's two weeks in Aruba and then another week in New York and then..."

***

Dawn wandered in the next afternoon and threw herself into a chair the newly-repaired research table. "I hate summer school," she moaned dramatically. "Why do I have to go?

"Because you blew off school work along with your other sins this spring." Spike sorted through the pile of applications, wondering at the futility of it all. He'd been doing this for nearly a week now and yesterday's crop had driven him to Willy's in hopes of a bar brawl to relieve his frustrations. He hadn't found one. "The Buckelew creature would look askance at Big Sis not doing something about it."

Dawn grumped, leaning forward on her elbows. "I've heard the Social Services lecture and I know how important summer school is if I don't want to get shipped off to foster care or Dad-land...assuming he'd want to put up with me. You met Sabrina."

It was clear from Dawn's tone that her father's new wife hadn't impressed her one bit when they'd met at Christmas. "All the more reason to concentrate on your schoolwork, make sure you're not put in that position."

"You're just as bad as Buffy." She slumped back in her chair. "I mean, it's bad enough I've got my sister wigging out because she's afraid Social Services will think she's completely irresponsible because she got fired from the Doublemeat Palace; now I have a vampire lecturing me on why I should be good in school. I thought vampires were supposed to be evil and rebel against society."

"Vampires are also supposed to sleep during the day and have little girls like you for snacks, not have a chip in their head, run businesses or spend half their day interviewing potential shop assistants." Spike shoved the pile of applications away in annoyance and reached for the inventory lists. "As you might have noticed, I'm not typical example."

Dawn leaned forward again, craning her neck to look at the application at the top of the pile. "Is that what you're doing? What about Tara?"

"It's just until she's better. The doctors are saying she'll be in the hospital, what, another two weeks? Then there's the rest of the recovery and I don't know what else. I don't see how she can get back to the store before fall."

"I could help," Dawn offered, adding cheerfully, "You could give me a raise."

"As much as that would solve my problems, Bit, there are a few things wrong with that idea. First, the insurance company would have a fit if I had a minor working here while we're reconstructing, according to Anya." He waved a hand at the back of the shop, still roped off to prevent unwary customers from wandering too near. "Since there's something of a disagreement over how much the insurance buzzards should cough up, there's a delay in getting the work going. Second, the Buckelew creature likely wouldn't be too happy to find you working in an 'unsafe' environment. Third, there's summer school. Buffy told me you had a fairly heavy load."

"You know, there are moments when I liked it better when you two weren't talking." She paused. "So...you two planning to have dinner together again?"

Spike cocked an eyebrow at her. "Think we could be guaranteed of some privacy this time?"

Dawn grinned. "Maybe. I think I could arrange to make sure Xander doesn't find out. Watching him watching you two across the restaurant was no fun."

It hadn't been fun for Buffy and Spike either. Their first opportunity to speak privately since Willow's departure had proved awkward, the conversation focusing solidly on the shop, Buffy's job hunt and Dawn's summer school, avoiding the issues and feelings rumbling just beneath the surface. It hadn't been just Buffy-avoidance either; sitting across from her in the local Olive Garden, Spike had found himself unsure of what to say or do. Snark and innuendo seemed out of place at the moment and he'd wound up suffering from a bad case of William.

To make the evening complete, Xander had appeared halfway through the meal with Dawn in tow, remarking on what a coincidence it was that they'd decided on a spaghetti dinner as well. Dawn had rolled her eyes while Xander made small talk and generally did his best to horn in. "If you can keep him away, I'll take your sister out. No guarantee that she'll accept, of course," he added.

"Like you need encouragement. She'll say yes, by the way."

He gave her the look which always made her shift nervously...at least it had until recently. "I haven't asked why you're hanging about here and not off doing your homework."

"Oh, Buffy asked me to meet her." Dawn reached for her book bag. "She's got an interview nearby and we have to run some errands afterwards. She figured you wouldn't mind."

He didn't mind, but that fact didn't keep him from telling her to stay busy while he got back to the paperwork. He and Giles had done a thorough inventory before the watcher had buggered off to England, but the speed at which they'd worked had only made his handwriting even more fruit-fly-like. Peering at the tiny scrawl, he couldn't tell if the word was "candle" or "handle."

Silence reigned until the shop bell was heard, momentarily rescuing him from the inventory…unless it was another applicant. The sight of Buffy coming through the door made him smile, but the pleasure was quickly tempered by the distinctly unhappy expression on her face. "Everything alright, pet?" he asked as she joined them at the table.

"Lovely." She let her head drop forward onto the table, coming to rest on one of the discarded applications. "Just shoot me now, will you?"

"Went that great?" Dawn asked.

Buffy sat back up, pushing her hair back. "Let's just say I won't be doing customer service for the phone company. The answer that I wasn't available to work nights was not what they wanted to hear." Buffy sighed. "There's got to be a job in Sunnydale that pays well, lets me work days and understands about slaying."

Spike smiled in what he hoped was a supportive manner. "You'll find it."

"I'd better…or I'll be crawling on my knees to the Doublemeat Palace, begging for my old job back."

She looked utterly miserable and Spike wished he knew a way to make it better. He could appear on their doorstep with the occasional pizza, but other than that, he doubted Buffy would accept handouts. She'd show no willingness to do so months ago and while things were definitely better between them, he had no illusions that her stand on that had changed, even though his source of income was now respectable.

Realizing his eyes were suddenly quite tired, he asked Dawn, "Be a dear and fetch me my glasses will you? They're in my coat."

Dawn gave him a knowing look and wandered away, leaving the two of them alone. Leaning forward slightly, he said, "Why don't you let me take the two of you to supper? We can drop Dawn at home afterwards and do some patrolling."

A hint of a smile crossed Buffy's face. "Sounds nice. I might even take you up on it." A frown crossed her face as she made one of her patented non-sequitors. "Do you really need the glasses? I mean, I thought they were just part of the 'William' disguise."

He couldn't help chuckling at the way she was considering him. "Don't need them all the time; just to read Giles' scribbling. Bit hard on the eyes after a while."

"He does write kind of tiny, doesn't he?" She rested her elbows on the table. "I thought vampires had great eyesight, though. Isn't it part of the super-power package?"

"Oh, my long-range vision is marvelous, even better when I'm game face. My reading vision improved somewhat, too, but I find I still sometimes need a little help."

Dawn wandered back to the table, glasses in one hand and papers in the other. "Spike, where did you get this?"

"Dawn, you shouldn't go rifling in other people's pockets," Buffy said warningly.

"I wasn't rifling. I was getting his glasses. You do know what this is, don't you?"

Spike slipped on the glasses and took the papers from Dawn. "I picked this up at Willy's last night. Some demon offered to pay me twenty bucks if I filled it out."

"A demon offering money. I'm impressed."

"Willy's is strictly a cash economy, Buffy. You want your drink, you pay for it." He peered at the papers in his hand. "Looks like some type of registration form."

"That's exactly what it is," Dawn said. "It's a voter registration form."

"Okay, I'm confused. I didn't think demons could vote."

"They can't," Dawn told Buffy. "Not unless they're citizens. Did they ask you if you were a citizen?"

Spike tried to recall the conversation with the obnoxious scabby little demon that'd interrupted him as he'd headed for the bar. "No. His big concern was whether or not I had an address that wasn't a crypt."

"Yes! This is so cool!"

Both Spike and Buffy looked at Dawn, completely lost as to what was going on. "Don't you see?" she said. "Someone's committing voter fraud, registering demons."

"This doesn't sound like world-threatening stuff."

"Have to agree with your sister on this one. They're probably not even very good at it. Now, if we were in Chicago…"

"You don't understand. If I want to do really well in my Civics class, I have to do a project. What's a better project than uncovering voter fraud? My teacher will love it…and Josh Klover won't have anything that will match it."

Spike lifted an eyebrow in Buffy's direction. Boy in her class, Buffy mouthed as if that answered Dawn's enthusiasm. "And how do you think you're going to prove this voter fraud?" he asked.

Dawn smiled. "You two will help me, of course."

***

Almost nothing they could say would dissuade Dawn from her conviction that she'd found the perfect project, although a moratorium was placed on the subject during dinner. Buffy and Spike had done their best to engage her attention regarding any other subject, including strategizing how they would handle the upcoming interviews with Social Services.

Once dinner was done and Dawn had been deposited at Revello Drive with the leftovers, Buffy and Spike headed out for a patrol. They had no set pattern but made a random sweep of Sunnydale's cemeteries, enjoying the warmth of the evening and each other's company. "Tara knows she's coming to stay with Dawn and me when they release her," Buffy told him as they caught up with some of the other news in their lives.

"When I saw her a few days ago, she said she was looking forward to spending time with you and Dawn. Seemed very cheerful, once I assured her the shop's medical insurance was covering the bills." Spike shook his head. "She's worried about Red, though. I think what happened is just starting to sink in."

Buffy was silent for a few minutes after that, her arms folded across her chest as they walked side by side over green lawns. "I don't think she knows everything yet...about what happened, I mean. It's going to be hard."

Will it be too hard for her to ever take Willow back? were the words that hung unspoken in the air. Spike didn't know how to answer it. He'd thought about it as well and the question started a knot deep in his stomach. How far could love forgive? Casting a glance at the woman at his side, he found himself wondering if there was enough forgiveness between them.

"We should check out Willy's."

The statement was abrupt and caught him off guard for a moment. "If it's a drink, you're wanting, pet, I can think of more attractive places. In fact, there's this club I know…"

Buffy shook her head. "Not a drink. I want to see if this demon who tried to sign you up for the vote is still there."

Spike sighed. "You're not thinking we're actually going to go along with that insane plan of Dawn's?"

"No, but I just remembered the Mayor and wondered how many of his cronies are still in Sunnydale. He couldn't have done everything alone and if they're up to something, it could be bad."

"Clue me in, luv? I think I'm missing a few episodes."

As they walked, Buffy gave him a recap of the events of her senior year, how Mayor Wilkins had somehow lived for a century, his attempt to ascend to a demon state, how she'd taken him out at her graduation. He'd heard bits and pieces of the story before, but never in a coherent fashion. "And you think that the remnants of his minions might be trying to pull something."

They were drawing close to The Alibi Room and both were walking a little warier. "I think it's quite possible -- the political minions, I mean, not the minion minions. Those we pretty much got rid of. I mean, think of the deals he had to have made; did everyone involved in them just disappear because we had snake barbeque?"

He couldn't argue with the logic on that. "So you think they're up to something."

"I think it might be worth paying Willy a visit. Ewww. Has it always been this bad or am I just forgetting?"

With a grin, Spike held the door open for her to enter. "It's Willy's; why do you think Clem and I play poker someplace else? Besides, Willy charges too much to use the back room."

Buffy wrinkled her nose at him in a rather adorable manner and he found himself suppressing a chuckle, trying to put on his best bad-ass air. He'd never actually had the pleasure of walking into Willy's with the Slayer at his side and didn't want to ruin the effect.

There was a momentary quiet as their presence registered on the bar's patrons, but the buzz quickly started up again with a renewed intensity. Scanning the crowd as best he could, Spike noted Scabby Demon was once again present, busily signing up a rather squat, round creature with earfolds close to his head. "So do we wander over and see if we can get him to squeal on his employer?" he asked, leaning close to whisper the words in her ear."

"Too obvious. Let's see what we can get out of Willy first."

She led him toward the bar, sliding onto a stool a rather nervous-looking vamp vacated. "Hello, Willy."

"Slayer!" Willy managed with false cheerfulness and only a little bi of panic. "What can I do for you? If it's drinks, I'm going to have to card you."

"No drinks. Just information."

"We can do both. Spike, you want anything?"

"I'll have the same as the lady -- information," Spike said with a grin.

The smile faded from Willy's face. "I've got other customers…"

Buffy's hand shot out and snagged Willy's arm before he could move away. "Then we should make this quick. How long as he," she nodded toward Scabby with her head, "been here?"

"A few days," Willy stammered. "He's not hurting anyone."

"How'd he find you?"

"Came in one afternoon. Willing to pay money for the privilege. Said he was doing a public service."

"And you're oh so civic minded, aren't you." Spike let his grin show some teeth. "Who's he working for?"

"I don't know." Buffy must have squeezed because he yelped. "Really, I don't know. If you want, I'll tell him to get out."

Buffy released the man. "No need. But if you find out anything else…"

"Yeah, I'll let you know." He scampered away out of reach.

"Think he'll throw the guy out?"

"Probably. But if he sets up elsewhere, I bet we'll find out pretty quickly." She seemed in no hurry to leave, head tilted back as she looked up at him. "It's been a while since we've done something like that."

Okay, so Willy's wasn't the place he'd anticipated having a romantic moment or even something that resembled one, but Spike wasn't going to argue. "We've been a little distracted. Lots of things going on."

"Lots of things," she repeated, one hand reaching out to rest on his arm. "Maybe some things that…"

She frowned, her eyes darting from side to side as if suddenly realizing where they were. "Let's get out of here."

She hopped off the stool and he followed her toward the door. They were about half-way there when a large demon known as Sid stepped into Spike's path. He was one of the poker circle, so Spike wasn't inclined to rip his head off. At least, not immediately. "Hey, Spike. Lenny and I have a bet we were wondering if you could settle."

"Yeah?" Spike had one eye on Buffy, hoping this wouldn't take long. She'd stopped, but he wasn't in a mood to make her wait.

"We were wondering if you and the Slayer are on or off at this point."

In what was probably symptomatic of the way Spike's luck was running, the demon's words fell into a momentary lull in the conversation, allowing Buffy to hear every word distinctly, her eyes growing big. "You…they…" She was sputtering, never a good sign. "How could…oh!"

With a stomp of her foot, she turned on her heel and headed for the door. "Buffy! Wait!" Pausing only to hiss, "I'll deal with you later," Spike hurried after her, ignoring the sniggers that followed in his wake.

She hadn't gotten far, standing in the parking lot just outside the door. "Where the hell did they get that idea?" she demanded as he approached her.

"Um, the way we were looking at each other?" he offered, frantically wracking his brain for any other explanation. He knew he hadn't told Sid; hell, he hadn't told anyone, mindful of the fact that if Buffy didn't want her friends to hear, she likely wouldn't be happy for the local demon community to know. Besides, who would he tell that wouldn't have laughed in his face over the very idea of a vampire in love with a slayer? Clem was the only…

Oh, crap.

Buffy was still glaring at him. "Okay, so I might have been giving off some indication that I've been possibly having certain feelings for you -- although nothing's decided or set in stone. I just don't want to deny the possibility that I might actually like you and want to spend time with you, which is not a declaration of anything, by the way, so you shouldn't smile that smile of yours or do that tilt thing with your head."

The glare was rapidly dissipating, replaced with the confusion that usually meant something was bubbling just under the surface of her brain, hammering to get out. "What tilt thing with my head?" he asked, trying not to smile. Smiling would only annoy her at this moment.

"That! What you're doing now. You look at me and you tilt your head to the side and your eyes go all soft and…and…"

She trailed off, looking up at him with big green eyes. Somehow, they'd managed to move closer to one another, close enough that her head had to tilt back to look up at him, even though they were almost of a height in the heels she wore. He couldn't resist smiling now, reaching out to smooth her hair away from her face.

"Why would they think we were off," she asked quietly. "I mean, still dealing with them thinking we're 'on,' but why 'off'?"

His mind raced through possible stories to tell her, trying to come up with something that wouldn't make her made and stomp away, erasing all the progress they'd made. She might not do an actual disinvite spell, but Buffy could summon a coldness that made him feel as if one had been performed. In the end, though, all the scenarios he could conjure sounded worse than the truth.

"I may have said something to Clem." As her eyes grew bigger, he sighed. "I know, I know. He's a terrible gossip if you feed him more than Country-Time, but he's a friend and he figured out something was up and..."

Spike didn't finish the sentence, feeling the complete idiot. One would think that after a century, he'd figure out how to actual talk to a woman. She hadn't hit him, though, which was a good sign. "He showed up at my crypt just after you left once," he continued, desperate to fill the silence. "Given the state we left it in, it was a little difficult to hide the fact I was seeing someone and he already knew how I felt."

If he was still human, he'd be hyperventilating. He couldn't tell what was happening in her brain at this moment, couldn't read it in her eyes. Then, she stepped closer, narrowing the gap between them even further, her hands coming up to finger the lapels of his duster. "What did Clem tell you? I know he didn't just sit there, because that's not Clem."

There was something in her voice that eased the tension a touch. "Right. The demon world's answer to Dear Bloody Abby. Told me to give you time," he admitted. "Not push things. That if you really cared for me, you'd realize it and if you didn't, I was going to have to live with it."

And he'd hated that advice, sworn he could convince her somehow. He'd thought he could...until the morning after the night she'd blown up his crypt. Yet, here she was now, playing with the leather he wore, her eyes focused on her hands. "Clem's a smart guy," she said in a quiet voice. "I can't get mad, I suppose. I mean, if we're going to be dating, people are going to notice."

Buffy looked up at him shyly, a smile lighting her lips. Then she closed her eyes and tugged on his duster to bring his mouth down to meet hers.

All coherent thought stopped. He'd longed for this moment but nothing had prepared him for it to come in the parking lot of Willy's. The inner poet might complain about the lack of romanticism in the location, but the inner poet could sod off for all Spike cared. She was kissing him. In front of others. In front of demons.

When she pulled back, he realized he was the one who was breathing hard while Buffy's heartbeat was calm and steady. There was a touch of fear in her eyes, but he saw clarity as well, the type that said she'd decided on a course of action. "Did you say 'dating'?" he managed.

"Uh, huh." Her hands slid up his lapels and laced themselves around the back of his neck. "That okay with you?"

Spike managed to mutter something in the affirmative, words vanishing as he bent his head to kiss her again. In the distance, he heard Sid's voice asking, "Lenny, about that bet...can I owe you?"

***

Two more applicants passed through the store the next morning and proved inadequate, but Spike found his good mood dimmed not a whit. Even another shipment of petrified hamsters from Terasmic Imports he hadn't ordered couldn't upset him. As the morning drew on toward noon, about the only thing that could ruffle his feathers was...

"Halfrek." The sight of the brunette gliding through the shop door brought the temperature of the room down a few degrees. "To what do I owe the...I won't say 'pleasure.'"

"I'm supposed to meet Anyanka here." Halfrek ran a finger along the edge of the counter as she slowly made her way down its length and smiled at him. He remembered that smile. He remembered the bad poetry that resulted from seeing that smile.

Spike deliberately turned his attention back to the mail order request on the counter. "I'm beginning to understand why Anya once complained about this place being Grand Central Bleeding Station."

"I'm surprised you're able to make sales with that attitude." She settled herself on one of the tall stools. "You used to be so polite, William. It was one of the things I liked about you."

"I wasn't aware you liked anything about...Anya! You are a welcome sight for sore eyes, pet."

Anya stopped and looked around. "That was unusually enthusiastic. Did you just make a large sale?"

"Can't I just be glad to see you?"

Anya looked at him, then at Halfrek, than back at Spike. "Perhaps. I do have some good news from the buying trip; I managed to find most of the books on the list at a reasonable price and they're on their way. I also found a new source for crystals you might want to look at."

She extracted a sheet from the folio she carried under her arm and passed it to him. Grateful for the excuse to ignore Halfrek, Spike let Anya walk him through the various points, explaining the advantages of volume purchases and why some stones needed to be special order only with a hefty premium attached.

After fifteen minutes, he was wondering if maybe he wouldn't have been better off speaking with the other vengeance demon. He didn't understand half the stuff she was talking about and doubted he ever would. Nothing -- not in the wanderings of a century or in his life before he was turned -- had prepared Spike in any way, shape or form to deal with being a shopkeeper.

The bell announcing a new arrival was a welcome relief. Even a completely unqualified applicant would offer an opportunity to end the crystal discussion.

"Where is my sister and when did you replace her with the Bot?" Dawn's words were accompanied by an impatiently tapping foot and patented Annoyed Teenager Expression Sixteeen...or was it Seventeen?

Somehow, this wasn't the reaction he'd been hoping for from Dawn. A glance at the clock showed the afternoon was wearing on; she must have come here straight from Summer School. "She was fine the last time I saw her." He'd been hoping Buffy might drop by that afternoon; she said she'd try, but she had an appointment with a temp agency and they'd warned her that the tests might take some time.

"She is not fine, not if she's using the words 'romantic' and 'Willy's' in the same sentence. She practically floated up the stairs last night when she came in, barely said a word to me."

"Buffy didn't tell you anything?" Spike felt a far too familiar disappointment stir within him. He hadn't come in because Buffy had said she'd wanted to give Dawn the news herself. Had it just been an excuse to keep them a secret once again?

"Oh, she told me a lot. She just didn't say anything." Dawn flopped onto a bench. "Last time she acted like that, she'd just started dating Riley. She'd bring home her dirty laundry from school -- all the stuff with demon goo she didn't want anyone else to see -- and she'd stand at the washing machine with this...expression." Dawn made a face. "No, this is worse. This morning she was extra chipper. When I asked about patrol, if you'd found out anything about that demon, she just said she'd never imagined Willy's could be romantic."

Spike ducked his head, attempting to hide the smile that threatened to break across his face. When he looked up, Dawn was still looking at him with an annoyed expression. "Do not think I missed grope fest you two were having on the front porch."

"It was hardly a grope fest." They'd been surprisingly chaste with one another, sitting of the railing of the Summers' family home, exchanging kisses and quiet words for what seemed like a blissful eternity. Spike couldn't remember the last time he'd been so content to just be with a woman...except for those days with Buffy just after she'd been brought back.

"If Mom was still with us, she would have turned on the porch light." Dawn paused, considering him. "So...this mean the two of you are dating?"

Spike suddenly became conscious of two sets of female eyes watching him closely. While part of him wanted to shout the news from the rooftop, there was a part of him that didn't feel like parading it in front of some of the parties present. Coming out from behind the counter, he escorted Dawn as far away from it as possible. "Buffy said she wanted to tell you herself," he told her in a low voice.

Dawn didn't lower her voice. "I'll be lucky if I can get a coherent sentence out of her for the next few weeks. You are not her first boyfriend, Spike; I've been through this before. Of course, it'll make it easy to get around her because she won't be paying attention..."

As if she realized she'd said a bit too much, she abruptly changed the subject. "So, did you have any luck finding out information about that demon? You know, with the election fraud?"

"Election fraud?" Anya's voice sounded loud and clear across the shop. "Dawn, what are you talking about?"

Dawn proved all too happy to explain about the voter registration for she'd found in Spike's pocket the day before, which forced Spike to explain about the scabby demon they'd see at Willy's. "He set up a few days ago, offered to pay Willy for the privilege. Willy, naturally, didn't know who he was working for, just that he offered cash."

"This is awful. I knew Wilkins' people would try something like this. Can't follow the democratic process, listen to the voice of the people. Oh, no. They have to go out and commit voter fraud."

Anya was beginning to get far more worked up about this than Spike had believed possible. Halfrek was doing her best to hide a smile behind her hand while the other woman paced up and down. "I know exactly who's behind this, too. It's that weasel Johnson; I'll be he's angling to become mayor. Probably has a slate of cronies he wants to put on the city council."

She stopped pacing and fixed Spike with a glare. "You didn't sign up, did you?"

Maybe they could get back to discussing crystals; it might be safer. "No," he admitted. "The moment Willy saw me, he did what he could to get me away from Scabby." He frowned as the memory shifted into better focus. "He made a big deal over the fact I was a shop owner and a member of the Chamber of Commerce."

"As well he should. I'll lay odds Willy can guess who he's working for even if he doesn't know for sure...and you should probably raise a question about it at the next Political Roundtable."

"I think you lost me somewhere, pet. Why would I be attending a political gathering of any kind? Vampire. Not American citizen. Can't vote in either case."

Anya uttered a strangled sound and stalked over to the shop's bulletin board. "Did you even bother to put it up? Yes, you did."

She removed a flier and brandished it in his direction. "Have you read this? Did you not notice the political roundtable the second Wednesday of every month? Important issues are discussed at these events, issues that could affect this business." Anya gave him another glare. "Have you volunteered for any of the committees, gone to any of the events besides the mixer?"

"Give a fellow a chance, will you? I've only been in charge for a month."

It came as no surprise that his answer wasn't acceptable to Anya, just as the lecture on how important it was for a businessman to be an active part of the Chamber of Commerce was no surprise either. As Anya continued on about networking, political action committees, the need for growth in the community and for him to stand up and have a say to protect the interests of the shop, he could see Halfrek laughing from where she sat at the counter. Didn't even bother to hide her giggles behind her hand as he remembered her doing back in their drawing room days.

"It's even more important now," Anya continued, warming to her subject, "that you get involved with what's happening in the business community. Who knows what Johnson is planning? I've a good mind to come along the next meeting myself and give him a piece of my mind?"

"Can I come too?" Dawn asked cheerfully. "It's for a school project."

That provoked a smile. "Of course you can. Next week's the second Wednesday, I believe, so we only have six days to wait." Anya turned back to Spike. "Dawn understands how important it is."

He looked from the vengeance demon to the teenaged key and back again. "This means I have to go or bad things will happen to me, right?"

Anya fingered her pendant. "I'm glad you understand."

Spike understood that the sooner he could convince Anya to buy back the business, the happier he'd be. "I've got one condition, though."

"Oh?" She did the arched eyebrow thing quite well, actually.

"Help me find someone to fill in while Tara's out."

***

"You did what?"

Buffy was looking at Spike with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. Worse, she'd stopped kissing him. They were supposed to be patrolling, but they'd ended up spending most of the evening happily sitting on a bench in Sunnyrest Cemetery paying attention to each other instead of the undead. At least, they'd been sitting there happily until he'd happened to mention the little jaunt planned for next Wednesday evening.

"What was I going to do? This is Anya we're talking about. Once she sets her mind to something, there's no stopping her. She thinks I should take an active part in the Sunnydale business scene, and that includes this political roundtable next Wednesday. Then Dawn had to pipe up and ask if she could come." He sighed. "Before I knew it, they decided I'd escort the both of them and they weren't about to take 'no' for an answer."

Now it was Buffy's turn to sigh, leaning back against him. "I suppose I should be happy that Dawn's so enthusiastic about a school project, but I can't help but get bad vibes off this."

"Because if this is being done by cronies of Mayor Wilkins and they're only half as dangerous as you've told me he was..."

"See why I don't want Dawn involved?"

He let his chin rest on her shoulders, arms slipping around her middle. "Then we need to find a way to talk her out of it."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. "Maybe you should come along," he suggested at last. "Anya thinks she has an idea who might be behind this and she's ready to go after him full force."

"You mean, help with damage control."

"Well, we are talking about Anya. And if the person she suspects is behind this is there, you can get a look at him, see if you recognize him from the Mayor days."

"Clever idea." She shifted position, looking much happier than she had a few moments ago. "I've got another clever idea."

They never did get any patrolling done.

On to Part 2

Back to Episode 14: Aftermath

On to Episode 16: Answers