[This started out as a comment... But I decided it was getting too long. So I have turned it into a post, which is now super long. We can tag either post you like
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[Ooh, that's like a novel right there! *all excited-like*]
I came here because it's a place where I can lose myself and not think about anything. The past, the present or the future. The past hurts, the future is bleak, and the present isn't even worth mentioning. Also, it's gratifying. That I'm doing my job. Not the job that pays, that one's just pointless, stand there and smile and look pretty for all the rich Sunnydale soccer moms. No, the job that allows me to feel powerful and useful occasionally, like my life has a point or something.
Not that I'm pretending to be the Slayer. I'm not. I'll never be her, I don't have the strength. But I have some tricks of my own that they never expect from a girl like me. Gives me the advantage sometimes. And if I rid the world of another demon, well, yay for me. Makes me feel a little better about myself.
The bouncer knows me, likes me and lets me get in for half the cover charge. Sometimes, if I wear leather, he lets me in for free. He's a good guy. So I slip him the money and go in, toss my coffee cup into a trash can by the door. Should be enough caffeine to last me until the very dead of night. I slip out of my jacket and leave it on a couch by the entrance. I doubt it'll be stolen. If it is, I don't care. I'll get another one.
The music running through me, I slip into the crowd, brushing past heaving bodies. Skin touches skin, hair brushes my arms. It's a microcosm of anonymity, where you can just reinvent yourself to be whoever you want. I like that. Tonight I've reinvented myself into a short black miniskirt, fishnets, clunky boots and a surprisingly chaste black top. I believe in leaving something to the imagination. Adjusting the buckle on the black kitty collar across my throat, I move further into the crowd.
The guys I find - well, actually, they find me - aren't too bad. At least they're polite and mostly keep their hands to themselves. They're only a brief entertainment, anyway, to get me into the rhythm of the place. Then I slip away and go look for vamps. Then I do my thing, and afterwards I come back and find someone more desirable, to reward myself for doing such a good job protecting all these people. Or, that's how I justify it to myself.
At least I still need justification, and that's good, right?
Then some guy comes on and tries to scare them off. Apparently it works, 'cause they leave. I turn around to look at the intruder, maybe it's some vamp who's on to me and has a problem, I don't know. I clear my hair out of my eyes and it's - him.
Spike.
Back. In Sunnydale.
I don't know if I should hug him or stake him. Caught somewhere in the middle, I make sure that my mouth isn't hanging open and cross my arms. I'll settle for a mild glare instead, trying to cover the shock of seeing him again. Not a word for three years and now he's back. Why?
"Long time no see, why does it matter?" I ask, tilting my head to the side. Yep, Spike from this angle too. Did he follow me? What is he doing here? God. I don't know how to do this.
Dawn looks up at me. Not so far to look anymore. She's got pretty tall, my little bit.
"Long time no see, why does it matter?"
She glares at me, arms folded. At least she didn't slap me. Almost suspected she might. Still, that might come afterwards.
"Yeah, been a while," I say, a little lamely. "Erm - good to see you, Niblet." She's still glaring at me. I furrow my brow and tilt my head to the side. "Could we talk somewhere a little quieter?"
She doesn't look too keen, but eventually we move off the dancefloor to the back bar. The crush is a little less, and we sit down in a worn and ragged booth that smells of spilt beer.
"I know it's been a long time," I say. "I should've... I mean, I sent a couple of postcards, but that's not... Well, I should've tried harder. I know that, so don't, you know, punch me." I tap my fingers on the table. I feel more nervous than I expected. "I just thought it would be a good time to come back. Now you're a bit more grown up, like. Less likely to have Scoobies buzzing round you all the time telling me to piss off."
I slide sideways into the booth, lean my back against the wall and dig my heels into the cracked leather of the seat. I stare out at the dancers, so many bodies, all moving to the music. I wish I was out there, dancing, stalking, slaying. I wish Spike wasn't here. I'm glad he is. I... I don't know.
He talks and I half-listen, looking from the dance floor to the wall opposite us to my nails, red nail polish chipping. I used to paint my nails black like Spike after he left, when I hoped he'd still come back. I stopped hoping a while ago.
Good to see me. Is it? Is it good to see him? Will it help, him being back, or am I better off carrying on the way I was, alone? At least I had my routine and I knew what to do. This, him coming back, throws everything off. In a good way, in a bad way, I don't know. I don't even know if he's really back for good or what.
He asks me not to punch him. I laugh softly. What good would that do? I'm not a Slayer, I don't have superstrengh, I'd just bruise my hand.
"Yeah, it's a great time, Spike," I say, turning to look at him. He looks awkward, and I can feel the slight edge of bitterness in my voice, and I'm kind of sorry, but not really. "When I'll all grown up and I can take care of myself now so you don't have to." I pause, glance down at my hands. He can see the makeup, the clothes, the hair. The heavy black eyeliner should tell him that I'm definitely not the girl he left behind.
"And you don't have to worry about them." The Scoobies. We haven't been that in a long time. Since Buffy died and Willow went off the deep end and Spike left. Everything went to shit after that. "They're not buzzing around at all. In fact, they're never around." They're not Scoobies, the Scoobies don't exist. Just me now.
Dawn's voice is cold. There's an edge of hardness in it there wasn't before. Her eyes are dark underneath the smudged liner. A lot has changed, and I don't reckon much of it's good.
"When I'll all grown up and I can take care of myself now so you don't have to."
"That's not what I meant, Dawn," I say, startled by the bitterness in her voice. "I... I know I should've stuck around a bit. But - I thought maybe you'd be better off." I mean to continue, but her next sentence stops me.
"They're not buzzing around at all. In fact, they're never around."
"What d'you mean?" I say. "I reckoned Willow might've gone all magic junkie, but what about the git and Anya? And Tara? Where are they?" I feel a strong sense of outrage. They told me to piss off and now they aren't looking out for her? "They just left you? Fucking twats."
"They left each other. Well, mostly." I'm not bothered by his language, I've heard worse, but I don't think he would've said that around the old Dawn.
"Willow, yeah, she's gone all 'magic junkie'. I don't know what she does all day, if she even goes to school anymore, if she eats or sleeps. She's never home. We tried to help her, but then we just gave up. She had to want to let it go and I don't think she's doing that anytime soon."
She broke my wrist in a magic accident. I don't hold a grudge, mostly I just feel sorry for her. She's wasting her life away. Sometimes I even miss the old Willow, the one who was my friend.
"Tara's gone. Willow used a spell on her. She couldn't handle the magic abuse and took off. Transferred to Santa Barbara or something." I shrug. She calls sometimes to check up on me, but I know she's slipping further and further away from this life. Good for her. She can still be normal.
"Xander and Anya got married. I think she's pregnant or something." Another shrug. They're like the happy ending of this story, except not. Everything was so miserable after Tara left and Willow went manic so they had to do something happy. Make their own shiny happy world. Good for them.
"So you see, Spike, I'm quite used to people leaving. Don't knock yourself around too hard for it." I wonder if I should get up and go. Just walk away. Would he follow? Will he disappear again? Will he hate me, the person that I've become?
I sit back in my seat, feeling surprised. Things fall apart so easily.
"Blimey," I say, rubbing my hand across my mouth. "Didn't expect all that." Part of me feels pleased. Sodding Scoobies always ruined my fun. Thought of themselves as so superior, and now look at them. "Willow and Tara broke up? Isn't love bloody grand." I take out a cigarette and light it. I remember when Dawn used to tell me off for smoking. Now she'd probably take one. I put the packet back in my pocket before she can ask. "And Xander managed to knock Anya up? Wouldn't have thought the boy had it in him," I smirk. But my smile doesn't last. The coldness in Dawn's voice is painful, but what's worse is the hardness. The sound of someone so used to being knocked down that they don't even feel it any more.
"So you see, Spike, I'm quite used to people leaving. Don't knock yourself around too hard for it."
"I'm still sorry, though, pet," I say. My voice is gentle. I haven't been gentle towards anyone in a long time. Wasn't even sure I could be. But Dawn always brought out something in me. Dunno quite what, but it was something.
I look up at the clock on the wall. "It's nearly midnight. You should be at home, right? Just cos your world's gone to hell doesn't mean you can skip maths. Isn't that what Buffy would say?" I say as lightly as possible, trying not to falter over her sister's name. Buffy. The name has a hollow ring to it now, the sound of dirt falling on coffins. "I'll walk you home," I say, trying to slip back into my pseudo-older-brother role of years before. Only problem is, I'm not sure if Dawn will accept it. But she's not a bleeding grown up yet, is she? I have to do something. Promise to a lady and all that.
"Don't be," I remark off-handedly. They made him leave, Xander and Willow, and then they left themselves. It's like a vicious cycle or something. Well, not sure how cyclical it is, but it's definitely vicious. "No use being sorry about something that's over, right?" It's all past now. And I don't like thinking about the past.
He suggests I go home and I can't help but laugh. "Midnight? Spike, that's early. I don't usually get home until three or four. And I don't skip class." Usually. There have been a few instances, but mostly I go. And I pass. I guess it's my way of trying to fool myself into thinking that I have a future, that I can get into college, that I can get away from all this. I can go out and slay vampires and smoke and drink and crash into bed at five in the morning with mascara smeared down my cheeks but it's all okay if I get good grades.
He mentions Buffy. Who cares what she would say? She's dead. I'm not mad at her for being dead, she saved my life and everyone's, and I love her for that, but she's dead. She's not an authority figure for me anymore.
And neither is Spike.
"If you want to wait around." I slide out of the booth and look back out towards the dance floor. "I have work to do." There's a stake in my boot and there's a vampire out there who's going to meet that stake tonight. Spike's spoiling my fun. Trying to be all parental. If he plans on sticking around, he'll have to get used to some things. If.
Dawn brushes off my apology. I reckon not even she knows how sad she sounds. Behind all that makeup she's unhappy. God, how did Dawn get this unhappy? I mean, she wasn't exactly a laugh-a-minute teen - always having sodding angst about something, which was understandable given that she found out she was made out of green light or whatever - but she'd never been... despairing.
"I have work to do." Dawn slides out of the booth, long legs stretching out. I notice a few blokes looking over at her, sizing up the tousled hair, the tiny clothes. Reckon they've got a chance, do they?
I grab her arm. "What sort of work is that, then, pet?" I say. "Bedding some bloke? Looks like you might try that sort of thing. Got the cock tease look working for you, haven't you?" It's a nasty thing to say, but I reckon she deserves it. Since when has Dawn dressed like a common slut? I mean... She's Dawn. She's not a two-bit hooker. She's just one bit. Mine, to look out for.
I'm being pretty possessive, given I haven't seen her in three years. But it looks like things have gone to the dogs and I want to know what the hell's happened. I feel almost like she's let me down. I always imagined her being the same. A sort of constancy in this sodding world which has done nothing much but kick me in the teeth. And now there was someone else in her place.
I wrench my arm out of his grip. There will be bruises. That's okay. I'm no stranger to bruises.
"Fuck you, Spike."
I can't help it. I'm so pissed off. He took off three years ago, left me alone with the people who eventually abandoned me in favor of their own lives. Every man for himself. Which means that me, I'm alone too. And now he comes back and tries to act like he's got some sort of power over me? And insults me?
When everything fell apart, I tried so hard to build it back up again into something resembling normality. I'm not a good girl, I'm the kind of girl that your mother warned you about. I never thought I'd be one of those girls, but life's full of surprises. I what I am and I'm okay with it. Mostly. And Spike will have to get used to it or leave.
I don't care if he goes to hell now after he says what he does. I'm sorry if I don't have a mother or a sister to dress me in pink and flowers anymore. This? It's just a costume.
"Slaying, Spike, it's called slaying," I snap. How dare he judge me? He, Spike, William the Bloody. And I never thought he'd talk to me like that. I mean, I know I'm not the girl he left behind, it's kind of a shock, sure, but I'm still Dawn, dammit. "You know, with the pointy wooden things? Xander's got the domestic life, Willow's in another dimension entirely, Tara's gone. Someone has to do it." I pause, glaring. If looks could dust. "And if I go home with anyone, I don't think that's any of your business."
Dawn doesn't wither. She doesn't even shriek when I insult her, isn't shocked by my bad language.
"Fuck you, Spike."
Dawn swore at me? This shocks me. But not as much as what she says next.
"Slaying, Spike, it's called slaying... Someone has to do it."
"You slay?" I say blankly, looking at her slight form. And then Dawn pulls another nasty shock out of her hat.
"And if I go home with anyone, I don't think that's any of your business."
This... This is too much. Dawn talking like a slut?
"What's happened to you, Dawn?" I say. I feel wounded. "You were... my little bit." This sounds stupid in the face of this hard new creature. But she's not all gone, she can't be. She has to still be Dawn, otherwise what was the point in me coming back? What was the point in any of it?
I decide to change tack.
"Alright," I say. "So you slay now. Can't say it seems like a genius idea, but fair enough. I'm coming with you, though. No arguments. I'll follow you, and you won't be able to fight me like the two-day-old vamps you're probably staking. So no arguments." I look at her coolly. Will she listen? Well, if necessarily, I'll force her to. She doesn't know about the chip yet, but if she tries to be a Lone Ranger, she'll find out right quick. And won't that be something.
I wonder what he thinks about me now. That yeah, I do slay, I feel like it's my duty, now that Buffy's gone, and Faith is who knows where. It gives me a sense of purpose. And keeps me in shape.
And the whole guy thing. What does he expect? I'm almost eighteen, and yeah, I'm not a virgin. Shocker. But I'm not a slut, either. I don't sleep around. Besides, who is Spike to lecture me on that, of all things?
I wonder that I still care what he thinks. He seems genuinely... hurt or disappointed or something. That I didn't stay a pristine little girl, waiting around for him to come back. I couldn't, too much was going on. But I did miss him. All the time. I could throw myself on him now just to touch him, to see if he was real. But I don't. Because if he left, losing him again would be so much worse than if he was never back at all.
Life happened, Spike. I'm not your little bit anymore, but that doesn't mean that I can't be something else. Your friend. Anything. I don't know.
He's gonna follow. Fine, follow all you want. I'm not going anywhere. "Vamps like to come here," I say calmly. It's either locking up or breaking down, and if I do the latter, I'd rather do it alone. "There's always at least one. Sometimes you have to look for them. Sometimes," and I know he's not going to like hearing this, "they come to you." I have a system, and if it involves using myself as bait, then fine. All for the greater good. Or something.
A dozen expressions flicker across Dawn's face. She's a little surprised, I reckon, and annoyed. Doesn't like my big brother routine. To be honest, I'm not that keen on it either, cos I've always liked causing trouble, not keeping people out of it. But Dawn is someone I feel responsible for, so I can't just let her get herself killed.
"Sometimes they come to you," she says, looking at me coolly.
"What?" Then it clicks. "Dawn, you use yourself as bait?" I look at her in horror. "Pet, that i'nt exactly wise." She stares at me. "Alright," I say, raising my hands in mock surrender. "Look, I've no right, obviously, to tell you what to do." Like bleeding hell I don't. "So." I gestured towards the bar. "I'm going to stand just there so you can... attract things." I wrinkle my face in disgust. "But the moment - the moment, Dawn - I think you can't handle something, I'm dragging you out. No argument."
I take the few strides over to the bar and order another beer, keeping Dawn in my line of sight, waiting to see what happens. I admit, my curiosity is piqued. What is Dawn capable of now?
"I'm still alive, aren't I?" Just a little worse for wear, but I'm good. No one expects a skinny eighteen year-old to suddenly pull a stake on them, especially if only moments ago she was acting like the ideal dinner. I've got this down, and hey? It's fun.
"You do that." I flash a smile at Spike and turn away, weaving back into the crowd of dancers. It's kind of cute, how he's all, I'm going to come rescue you, because he totally missed the part where I don't need rescuing anymore. I shouldn't let him kid himself, really, but it's kind of sweet. Except for that whole part where he left for three years and comes back expecting to be the protector again. That's not so sweet.
Let me show him that he has some catching-up to do.
I don't have any sort of Slayer-ific vampire radar, but I've learned to spot them over the years. Pale skin, of course, but in this place, everyone's pale. The clothes, the cut, doesn't quite fit in sometimes. And the eyes, of course. Even when they have their human face on, their eyes are demon eyes. Just because they're not yellow doesn't make them any more human-looking. I guess I'm pretty good 'cause I've never staked a human. So there.
The music's some sort of hypnotizing techno-trance with a wicked base, it's easy to move to. I drift through the crowd until some guy touches my arm lightly. He's young, cute, doesn't look like he comes here often. His hands drift down to my hips and I let him. He's human. That's okay. He pulls me back and I move with him, leaning back against him. He's not a half-bad dancer. I run my hands through my hair and lift it up, tossing it back, exposing my neck. Through the crowd, I catch a glimpse of not-quite-human eyes and hold their gaze, smiling slowly.
Like a charm. He comes forward, smirks at the guy and grabs my arm, pulling me forward. Vampires think they're such hot shit. I play dumb, smiling apologetically at my previous partner, and move towards the vampire, dancing to the heavy beat. Somewhere out there, Spike is watching, and I dip down to the floor and come up slowly, showing off. I can't help it.
Probably intoxicated with the ebb and flow of my blood by now, the vampire grabs my hand and pulls me forward, out of the crowd, towards the back where it's dark and more private. I turn my head, find Spike and waggle my fingers at him with a smile, then follow.
"You do that." She strutted out onto the dance floor. Cocky little bit now, it seems. Reckons she doesn't need me. We'll see.
I watch her dance. It's surprisingly easy on the eye. All the dancing I remember Dawn doing was in her living room, boyband music on, moving, as she herself eloquently put it, "like a spaz". This girl moves like she was born to do it. No, she's not professional, but there's grace there, and in the slink of her hips I see some of the passion I thought might be dead. She tosses her head back, her hair flowing down her back, her white throat exposed. Bloody hell. She might as well just write SNACK across her chest and have done with it. She's even got my vampire tastebuds on alert and I know what she's bloody doing.
The vampire, clumsy and awkward but thinking he's smooth, stomps across the dancefloor and puts a sleazy arm around Dawn. She gives him googly eyes, as if he's the hottest thing she's ever seen. Good actress. Worryingly good. Dawn doesn't leave the dancefloor with him straight away, though. She keeps dancing, more extravagantly now, her body moving close to the vampire's. The sight of it makes me a little angry. She's teasing him, for God's sake! Sex and food all wrapped up in one package. Because don't be fooled, the blood - it's about sex too. I know just what guys like me get off on, and it's not pretty, and I don't like Dawn playing along with it.
The vampire grabs her hand and drags her towards the back. Not bloody smooth at all. If it were me... But I wouldn't be taking Dawn to the back of anywhere, would I? Dawn turns her head in my direction and wiggles her fingers at me, giving me a cheeky smile. Saucy cow. I stand up and follow.
At the back of the club, in the gloom, the campire pressed Dawn against the black wall. She whispered up at him, batting her eyelashes, her mouth pouting perfectly. Tease, such a tease. My emotions are boiling. This isn't like when the scoobies went out hunting, bag of potato chips in one hand, stake in the other. This has a... darker feel.
The vampire leans in towards Dawn's throat, his arm around her waist. I feel fear rise up in my throat like bile and I rush towards her. But... he's gone.
Dust rises from the club floor. Dawn looks across at me, a stake in her hand.
"Right," I say, somewhat dumbfounded. I scrabble in my pocket for a fag and light one. "Nice one."
Spike lights up a smoke. He looks he he could really use one. I consider stealing a cigarette, but I'm over my smoking phase. I did it for a while because I thought it was so cool, and then decided that I didn't really want cancer. There are cooler ways to die, and I'm already in line for a few of them.
I cross the floor to where Spike's standing. He's run over here to save me, didn't think I was in control of the situation. Good thing I was faster than that, or I doubt he'd have given me another chance to prove myself.
"And you were worried." I smile, satisfied to have shown him what I'm capable of. I don't do it like Buffy did, I can't, I don't have Slayer strength so there's no way I can just attack a vampire. So it all comes down to being sneaky, and yeah, using myself as bait. I don't exactly love it, but I've gotten to enjoy it. It's a rush, an adrenaline high.
There's no way I can go home now, and Spike better not expect me to. My heart is beating so fast, and not in fear. I'm not afraid as long as I've got control. Right now, I need to move.
"I'm going back out there," I say, grabbing onto Spike's arm to steady myself as I tuck the stake back into my boot. And before he can say anything, I look up at him, grin and straighten up. "Don't worry, that was my quota for the night. There's usually not more than one around here. They like this place, and if the kill numbers get too high, they could close it down. So they're careful."
I didn't know Faith but I think this is what she must've felt like after a slaying. Although hers had a bit more of the kicking and the punching. Mine were about, well, temptation. A different kind of euphoria.
I don't know if Spike's going to stick around. I kind of hope he does. I touched him, I felt that he was real. I don't need him here, but it's comforting, knowing that someone's watching over me. Someone who kinda cares, or at least used to. Will he accept this new Dawn?
Dawn smiles at me, and for a moment she actually looks happy. There's a kind of energy crackling around her - adrenaline, I guess. I understand that. Hunting gets a person all revved up. Because of her excitement her blood is pumping faster; I can see the colour rushing into her cheeks. I can almost smell it.
I look away.
"I'm going back out there," Dawn says, grabbing my arm. The feel of her hand through my duster makes my skin momentarily warm. I can feel her fingers long after they've left my arm. I'm about to tell her off for suggesting more slaying, when she rushes in with:
"Don't worry, that was my quota for the night. There's usually not more than one around here. They like this place, and if the kill numbers get too high, they could close it down. So they're careful."
"So speaks the hardened hunter, eh?" I say, raising an eyebrow and drawing on my cigarette. I blow smoke out through my nose. It rises blue into the air and dissipates. "Good plan, pet. Never try to do too much. People who do that end up dead." I chuck the cigarette on the floor and grind it with my boot.
"So if you don't want to hunt, pet," I say, "and you don't want to go home, what do you want to do?" I tilt my head towards her. The smell of bodies around me is becoming almost unbearably tantalising. I'm hungry, I realise. But I don't want Dawn to know I can hunt again. Not yet. She might - well, she'd be scared, maybe, or disappointed. So I reign in my demon and ignore the flush of blood in her face, the sweet smell of her skin.
I came here because it's a place where I can lose myself and not think about anything. The past, the present or the future. The past hurts, the future is bleak, and the present isn't even worth mentioning. Also, it's gratifying. That I'm doing my job. Not the job that pays, that one's just pointless, stand there and smile and look pretty for all the rich Sunnydale soccer moms. No, the job that allows me to feel powerful and useful occasionally, like my life has a point or something.
Not that I'm pretending to be the Slayer. I'm not. I'll never be her, I don't have the strength. But I have some tricks of my own that they never expect from a girl like me. Gives me the advantage sometimes. And if I rid the world of another demon, well, yay for me. Makes me feel a little better about myself.
The bouncer knows me, likes me and lets me get in for half the cover charge. Sometimes, if I wear leather, he lets me in for free. He's a good guy. So I slip him the money and go in, toss my coffee cup into a trash can by the door. Should be enough caffeine to last me until the very dead of night. I slip out of my jacket and leave it on a couch by the entrance. I doubt it'll be stolen. If it is, I don't care. I'll get another one.
The music running through me, I slip into the crowd, brushing past heaving bodies. Skin touches skin, hair brushes my arms. It's a microcosm of anonymity, where you can just reinvent yourself to be whoever you want. I like that. Tonight I've reinvented myself into a short black miniskirt, fishnets, clunky boots and a surprisingly chaste black top. I believe in leaving something to the imagination. Adjusting the buckle on the black kitty collar across my throat, I move further into the crowd.
The guys I find - well, actually, they find me - aren't too bad. At least they're polite and mostly keep their hands to themselves. They're only a brief entertainment, anyway, to get me into the rhythm of the place. Then I slip away and go look for vamps. Then I do my thing, and afterwards I come back and find someone more desirable, to reward myself for doing such a good job protecting all these people. Or, that's how I justify it to myself.
At least I still need justification, and that's good, right?
Then some guy comes on and tries to scare them off. Apparently it works, 'cause they leave. I turn around to look at the intruder, maybe it's some vamp who's on to me and has a problem, I don't know. I clear my hair out of my eyes and it's - him.
Spike.
Back. In Sunnydale.
I don't know if I should hug him or stake him. Caught somewhere in the middle, I make sure that my mouth isn't hanging open and cross my arms. I'll settle for a mild glare instead, trying to cover the shock of seeing him again. Not a word for three years and now he's back. Why?
"Long time no see, why does it matter?" I ask, tilting my head to the side. Yep, Spike from this angle too. Did he follow me? What is he doing here? God. I don't know how to do this.
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"Long time no see, why does it matter?"
She glares at me, arms folded. At least she didn't slap me. Almost suspected she might. Still, that might come afterwards.
"Yeah, been a while," I say, a little lamely. "Erm - good to see you, Niblet." She's still glaring at me. I furrow my brow and tilt my head to the side. "Could we talk somewhere a little quieter?"
She doesn't look too keen, but eventually we move off the dancefloor to the back bar. The crush is a little less, and we sit down in a worn and ragged booth that smells of spilt beer.
"I know it's been a long time," I say. "I should've... I mean, I sent a couple of postcards, but that's not... Well, I should've tried harder. I know that, so don't, you know, punch me." I tap my fingers on the table. I feel more nervous than I expected. "I just thought it would be a good time to come back. Now you're a bit more grown up, like. Less likely to have Scoobies buzzing round you all the time telling me to piss off."
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He talks and I half-listen, looking from the dance floor to the wall opposite us to my nails, red nail polish chipping. I used to paint my nails black like Spike after he left, when I hoped he'd still come back. I stopped hoping a while ago.
Good to see me. Is it? Is it good to see him? Will it help, him being back, or am I better off carrying on the way I was, alone? At least I had my routine and I knew what to do. This, him coming back, throws everything off. In a good way, in a bad way, I don't know. I don't even know if he's really back for good or what.
He asks me not to punch him. I laugh softly. What good would that do? I'm not a Slayer, I don't have superstrengh, I'd just bruise my hand.
"Yeah, it's a great time, Spike," I say, turning to look at him. He looks awkward, and I can feel the slight edge of bitterness in my voice, and I'm kind of sorry, but not really. "When I'll all grown up and I can take care of myself now so you don't have to." I pause, glance down at my hands. He can see the makeup, the clothes, the hair. The heavy black eyeliner should tell him that I'm definitely not the girl he left behind.
"And you don't have to worry about them." The Scoobies. We haven't been that in a long time. Since Buffy died and Willow went off the deep end and Spike left. Everything went to shit after that. "They're not buzzing around at all. In fact, they're never around." They're not Scoobies, the Scoobies don't exist. Just me now.
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"When I'll all grown up and I can take care of myself now so you don't have to."
"That's not what I meant, Dawn," I say, startled by the bitterness in her voice. "I... I know I should've stuck around a bit. But - I thought maybe you'd be better off." I mean to continue, but her next sentence stops me.
"They're not buzzing around at all. In fact, they're never around."
"What d'you mean?" I say. "I reckoned Willow might've gone all magic junkie, but what about the git and Anya? And Tara? Where are they?" I feel a strong sense of outrage. They told me to piss off and now they aren't looking out for her? "They just left you? Fucking twats."
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"Willow, yeah, she's gone all 'magic junkie'. I don't know what she does all day, if she even goes to school anymore, if she eats or sleeps. She's never home. We tried to help her, but then we just gave up. She had to want to let it go and I don't think she's doing that anytime soon."
She broke my wrist in a magic accident. I don't hold a grudge, mostly I just feel sorry for her. She's wasting her life away. Sometimes I even miss the old Willow, the one who was my friend.
"Tara's gone. Willow used a spell on her. She couldn't handle the magic abuse and took off. Transferred to Santa Barbara or something." I shrug. She calls sometimes to check up on me, but I know she's slipping further and further away from this life. Good for her. She can still be normal.
"Xander and Anya got married. I think she's pregnant or something." Another shrug. They're like the happy ending of this story, except not. Everything was so miserable after Tara left and Willow went manic so they had to do something happy. Make their own shiny happy world. Good for them.
"So you see, Spike, I'm quite used to people leaving. Don't knock yourself around too hard for it." I wonder if I should get up and go. Just walk away. Would he follow? Will he disappear again? Will he hate me, the person that I've become?
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"Blimey," I say, rubbing my hand across my mouth. "Didn't expect all that." Part of me feels pleased. Sodding Scoobies always ruined my fun. Thought of themselves as so superior, and now look at them. "Willow and Tara broke up? Isn't love bloody grand." I take out a cigarette and light it. I remember when Dawn used to tell me off for smoking. Now she'd probably take one. I put the packet back in my pocket before she can ask. "And Xander managed to knock Anya up? Wouldn't have thought the boy had it in him," I smirk. But my smile doesn't last. The coldness in Dawn's voice is painful, but what's worse is the hardness. The sound of someone so used to being knocked down that they don't even feel it any more.
"So you see, Spike, I'm quite used to people leaving. Don't knock yourself around too hard for it."
"I'm still sorry, though, pet," I say. My voice is gentle. I haven't been gentle towards anyone in a long time. Wasn't even sure I could be. But Dawn always brought out something in me. Dunno quite what, but it was something.
I look up at the clock on the wall.
"It's nearly midnight. You should be at home, right? Just cos your world's gone to hell doesn't mean you can skip maths. Isn't that what Buffy would say?" I say as lightly as possible, trying not to falter over her sister's name. Buffy. The name has a hollow ring to it now, the sound of dirt falling on coffins. "I'll walk you home," I say, trying to slip back into my pseudo-older-brother role of years before. Only problem is, I'm not sure if Dawn will accept it. But she's not a bleeding grown up yet, is she? I have to do something. Promise to a lady and all that.
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He suggests I go home and I can't help but laugh. "Midnight? Spike, that's early. I don't usually get home until three or four. And I don't skip class." Usually. There have been a few instances, but mostly I go. And I pass. I guess it's my way of trying to fool myself into thinking that I have a future, that I can get into college, that I can get away from all this. I can go out and slay vampires and smoke and drink and crash into bed at five in the morning with mascara smeared down my cheeks but it's all okay if I get good grades.
He mentions Buffy. Who cares what she would say? She's dead. I'm not mad at her for being dead, she saved my life and everyone's, and I love her for that, but she's dead. She's not an authority figure for me anymore.
And neither is Spike.
"If you want to wait around." I slide out of the booth and look back out towards the dance floor. "I have work to do." There's a stake in my boot and there's a vampire out there who's going to meet that stake tonight. Spike's spoiling my fun. Trying to be all parental. If he plans on sticking around, he'll have to get used to some things. If.
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"I have work to do."
Dawn slides out of the booth, long legs stretching out. I notice a few blokes looking over at her, sizing up the tousled hair, the tiny clothes. Reckon they've got a chance, do they?
I grab her arm.
"What sort of work is that, then, pet?" I say. "Bedding some bloke? Looks like you might try that sort of thing. Got the cock tease look working for you, haven't you?" It's a nasty thing to say, but I reckon she deserves it. Since when has Dawn dressed like a common slut? I mean... She's Dawn. She's not a two-bit hooker. She's just one bit. Mine, to look out for.
I'm being pretty possessive, given I haven't seen her in three years. But it looks like things have gone to the dogs and I want to know what the hell's happened. I feel almost like she's let me down. I always imagined her being the same. A sort of constancy in this sodding world which has done nothing much but kick me in the teeth. And now there was someone else in her place.
I should've come back sooner.
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"Fuck you, Spike."
I can't help it. I'm so pissed off. He took off three years ago, left me alone with the people who eventually abandoned me in favor of their own lives. Every man for himself. Which means that me, I'm alone too. And now he comes back and tries to act like he's got some sort of power over me? And insults me?
When everything fell apart, I tried so hard to build it back up again into something resembling normality. I'm not a good girl, I'm the kind of girl that your mother warned you about. I never thought I'd be one of those girls, but life's full of surprises. I what I am and I'm okay with it. Mostly. And Spike will have to get used to it or leave.
I don't care if he goes to hell now after he says what he does. I'm sorry if I don't have a mother or a sister to dress me in pink and flowers anymore. This? It's just a costume.
"Slaying, Spike, it's called slaying," I snap. How dare he judge me? He, Spike, William the Bloody. And I never thought he'd talk to me like that. I mean, I know I'm not the girl he left behind, it's kind of a shock, sure, but I'm still Dawn, dammit. "You know, with the pointy wooden things? Xander's got the domestic life, Willow's in another dimension entirely, Tara's gone. Someone has to do it." I pause, glaring. If looks could dust. "And if I go home with anyone, I don't think that's any of your business."
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"Fuck you, Spike."
Dawn swore at me? This shocks me. But not as much as what she says next.
"Slaying, Spike, it's called slaying... Someone has to do it."
"You slay?" I say blankly, looking at her slight form. And then Dawn pulls another nasty shock out of her hat.
"And if I go home with anyone, I don't think that's any of your business."
This... This is too much. Dawn talking like a slut?
"What's happened to you, Dawn?" I say. I feel wounded. "You were... my little bit." This sounds stupid in the face of this hard new creature. But she's not all gone, she can't be. She has to still be Dawn, otherwise what was the point in me coming back? What was the point in any of it?
I decide to change tack.
"Alright," I say. "So you slay now. Can't say it seems like a genius idea, but fair enough. I'm coming with you, though. No arguments. I'll follow you, and you won't be able to fight me like the two-day-old vamps you're probably staking. So no arguments." I look at her coolly. Will she listen? Well, if necessarily, I'll force her to. She doesn't know about the chip yet, but if she tries to be a Lone Ranger, she'll find out right quick. And won't that be something.
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And the whole guy thing. What does he expect? I'm almost eighteen, and yeah, I'm not a virgin. Shocker. But I'm not a slut, either. I don't sleep around. Besides, who is Spike to lecture me on that, of all things?
I wonder that I still care what he thinks. He seems genuinely... hurt or disappointed or something. That I didn't stay a pristine little girl, waiting around for him to come back. I couldn't, too much was going on. But I did miss him. All the time. I could throw myself on him now just to touch him, to see if he was real. But I don't. Because if he left, losing him again would be so much worse than if he was never back at all.
Life happened, Spike. I'm not your little bit anymore, but that doesn't mean that I can't be something else. Your friend. Anything. I don't know.
He's gonna follow. Fine, follow all you want. I'm not going anywhere. "Vamps like to come here," I say calmly. It's either locking up or breaking down, and if I do the latter, I'd rather do it alone. "There's always at least one. Sometimes you have to look for them. Sometimes," and I know he's not going to like hearing this, "they come to you." I have a system, and if it involves using myself as bait, then fine. All for the greater good. Or something.
[Can you get on MSN?]
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"Sometimes they come to you," she says, looking at me coolly.
"What?" Then it clicks. "Dawn, you use yourself as bait?" I look at her in horror. "Pet, that i'nt exactly wise." She stares at me. "Alright," I say, raising my hands in mock surrender. "Look, I've no right, obviously, to tell you what to do." Like bleeding hell I don't. "So." I gestured towards the bar. "I'm going to stand just there so you can... attract things." I wrinkle my face in disgust. "But the moment - the moment, Dawn - I think you can't handle something, I'm dragging you out. No argument."
I take the few strides over to the bar and order another beer, keeping Dawn in my line of sight, waiting to see what happens. I admit, my curiosity is piqued. What is Dawn capable of now?
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"You do that." I flash a smile at Spike and turn away, weaving back into the crowd of dancers. It's kind of cute, how he's all, I'm going to come rescue you, because he totally missed the part where I don't need rescuing anymore. I shouldn't let him kid himself, really, but it's kind of sweet. Except for that whole part where he left for three years and comes back expecting to be the protector again. That's not so sweet.
Let me show him that he has some catching-up to do.
I don't have any sort of Slayer-ific vampire radar, but I've learned to spot them over the years. Pale skin, of course, but in this place, everyone's pale. The clothes, the cut, doesn't quite fit in sometimes. And the eyes, of course. Even when they have their human face on, their eyes are demon eyes. Just because they're not yellow doesn't make them any more human-looking. I guess I'm pretty good 'cause I've never staked a human. So there.
The music's some sort of hypnotizing techno-trance with a wicked base, it's easy to move to. I drift through the crowd until some guy touches my arm lightly. He's young, cute, doesn't look like he comes here often. His hands drift down to my hips and I let him. He's human. That's okay. He pulls me back and I move with him, leaning back against him. He's not a half-bad dancer. I run my hands through my hair and lift it up, tossing it back, exposing my neck. Through the crowd, I catch a glimpse of not-quite-human eyes and hold their gaze, smiling slowly.
Like a charm. He comes forward, smirks at the guy and grabs my arm, pulling me forward. Vampires think they're such hot shit. I play dumb, smiling apologetically at my previous partner, and move towards the vampire, dancing to the heavy beat. Somewhere out there, Spike is watching, and I dip down to the floor and come up slowly, showing off. I can't help it.
Probably intoxicated with the ebb and flow of my blood by now, the vampire grabs my hand and pulls me forward, out of the crowd, towards the back where it's dark and more private. I turn my head, find Spike and waggle my fingers at him with a smile, then follow.
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"You do that." She strutted out onto the dance floor. Cocky little bit now, it seems. Reckons she doesn't need me. We'll see.
I watch her dance. It's surprisingly easy on the eye. All the dancing I remember Dawn doing was in her living room, boyband music on, moving, as she herself eloquently put it, "like a spaz". This girl moves like she was born to do it. No, she's not professional, but there's grace there, and in the slink of her hips I see some of the passion I thought might be dead. She tosses her head back, her hair flowing down her back, her white throat exposed. Bloody hell. She might as well just write SNACK across her chest and have done with it. She's even got my vampire tastebuds on alert and I know what she's bloody doing.
The vampire, clumsy and awkward but thinking he's smooth, stomps across the dancefloor and puts a sleazy arm around Dawn. She gives him googly eyes, as if he's the hottest thing she's ever seen. Good actress. Worryingly good. Dawn doesn't leave the dancefloor with him straight away, though. She keeps dancing, more extravagantly now, her body moving close to the vampire's. The sight of it makes me a little angry. She's teasing him, for God's sake! Sex and food all wrapped up in one package. Because don't be fooled, the blood - it's about sex too. I know just what guys like me get off on, and it's not pretty, and I don't like Dawn playing along with it.
The vampire grabs her hand and drags her towards the back. Not bloody smooth at all. If it were me... But I wouldn't be taking Dawn to the back of anywhere, would I? Dawn turns her head in my direction and wiggles her fingers at me, giving me a cheeky smile. Saucy cow. I stand up and follow.
At the back of the club, in the gloom, the campire pressed Dawn against the black wall. She whispered up at him, batting her eyelashes, her mouth pouting perfectly. Tease, such a tease. My emotions are boiling. This isn't like when the scoobies went out hunting, bag of potato chips in one hand, stake in the other. This has a... darker feel.
The vampire leans in towards Dawn's throat, his arm around her waist. I feel fear rise up in my throat like bile and I rush towards her. But... he's gone.
Dust rises from the club floor. Dawn looks across at me, a stake in her hand.
"Right," I say, somewhat dumbfounded. I scrabble in my pocket for a fag and light one. "Nice one."
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I cross the floor to where Spike's standing. He's run over here to save me, didn't think I was in control of the situation. Good thing I was faster than that, or I doubt he'd have given me another chance to prove myself.
"And you were worried." I smile, satisfied to have shown him what I'm capable of. I don't do it like Buffy did, I can't, I don't have Slayer strength so there's no way I can just attack a vampire. So it all comes down to being sneaky, and yeah, using myself as bait. I don't exactly love it, but I've gotten to enjoy it. It's a rush, an adrenaline high.
There's no way I can go home now, and Spike better not expect me to. My heart is beating so fast, and not in fear. I'm not afraid as long as I've got control. Right now, I need to move.
"I'm going back out there," I say, grabbing onto Spike's arm to steady myself as I tuck the stake back into my boot. And before he can say anything, I look up at him, grin and straighten up. "Don't worry, that was my quota for the night. There's usually not more than one around here. They like this place, and if the kill numbers get too high, they could close it down. So they're careful."
I didn't know Faith but I think this is what she must've felt like after a slaying. Although hers had a bit more of the kicking and the punching. Mine were about, well, temptation. A different kind of euphoria.
I don't know if Spike's going to stick around. I kind of hope he does. I touched him, I felt that he was real. I don't need him here, but it's comforting, knowing that someone's watching over me. Someone who kinda cares, or at least used to. Will he accept this new Dawn?
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I look away.
"I'm going back out there," Dawn says, grabbing my arm. The feel of her hand through my duster makes my skin momentarily warm. I can feel her fingers long after they've left my arm. I'm about to tell her off for suggesting more slaying, when she rushes in with:
"Don't worry, that was my quota for the night. There's usually not more than one around here. They like this place, and if the kill numbers get too high, they could close it down. So they're careful."
"So speaks the hardened hunter, eh?" I say, raising an eyebrow and drawing on my cigarette. I blow smoke out through my nose. It rises blue into the air and dissipates. "Good plan, pet. Never try to do too much. People who do that end up dead." I chuck the cigarette on the floor and grind it with my boot.
"So if you don't want to hunt, pet," I say, "and you don't want to go home, what do you want to do?" I tilt my head towards her. The smell of bodies around me is becoming almost unbearably tantalising. I'm hungry, I realise. But I don't want Dawn to know I can hunt again. Not yet. She might - well, she'd be scared, maybe, or disappointed. So I reign in my demon and ignore the flush of blood in her face, the sweet smell of her skin.
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