Dawn to Dusk

BY: Demon Tsunami

A/N: For those of you who care, this does not mean Brutal Passions is on hiatus, in fact, this story came into being before my other fic.s, I've just recently been inspired to finish it. I love BTVS, always have, always will, and let's face it Spike and Angel are H.O.T. So I hope you enjoy, this is meant to be a sexy fun fiction! Oh, and for all you perfectionists, I'm well aware I took the Buffy universe and tweaked it to my own needs, so NO nit-picking!

Warning: If you don't heed the 'M' rating and decide to whine about language, graphic violence or sexual situations, I'll have Angelus turn you into a vamp and then let Buffy dust you. Sound fair?

So here we are in twilight

Bathed in the almost

Of what we never were

You the one I love most

But the reasons all a blur

The animalistic roar of rage was enough to wake Dawn from her vivid dream, startled and half conscious she rolled, plummeting for one heart wrenching moment and then landing with an uncomfortable thud. In a pile of limbs she attempted to untwist the borrowed blanket from her legs, sleep muddling her and making it a slow process. The roar sounded again, raising the fine hairs on her arms and the back of her neck. Run, instinct insisted, but she pushed down the nagging urge. Buffy could nag all she wanted about Spike, saying vampires were all soulless and evil, but Dawn slept easiest here in the crypt, not feet from the Big Bad himself.

Of course, Buffy would have an aneurism if she knew her baby sister was here, in a vampire's lair, instead of crashing at Tiffany's house like she'd promised.

Crashing was heard from the deeper, darker parts of the crypt, shattering and banging, it sounded as if Spike were throwing a hissy fit. Perplexed, head tilted as she listened, she would have to suppose this was like the time his favorite character in the soap he watched had died, many a wooden table had suffered that day.

She grinned, able to picture Spike's thick accent echoing around the house about the absurdity of drowning in a lake, his colorful language detailing the unfairness of the fictional character's fate. Everyone had been relieved when the girl had reappeared in the next episode, washed ashore and alive.

"DRU!! BLETHERING 'ELL!!" A short, muttered curse; and Spike appeared, his blue eyes darting across his lair in fierce intensity. From where she sat, she could see the lean paleness of his sculpted chest; see the fury mounting in those sharp eyes. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until it came out in a shaky release, drawing the attention of the undead man.

"'ello pet," Spike grinned, looking the part of roguish monster, eyes gleaming in the crypt's dimness. She nodded slowly, eyeing him warily as he progressed towards her, sleek and predatory, like a large cat about to pounce. "And to whom do I owe the pleasure of this tasty snack?" he mused, causing her to glance at him in confusion.

"Spike?" His eyes narrowed at her casual use of his name, "Are you okay?" He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, eyeing the defenseless girl in front of his couch speculatively. In one of those too fast vampire movements he was beside her, and then she was air born, her throat burning as her feet dangled helplessly a scant number of feet from the floor.

Suspended by her jugular, she wheezed for needed oxygen, for the first time regarding the Big Bad with wide, terrified eyes. Questions lurked in her gaze, but he ignored them, his blue eyes flat and cruel as he regarded his prey, smirking as he leaned in, towards the throat he held her by.

Finally she caught her wits, struggling uselessly in his steel grasp, wishing as her eyes watered that she could summon some previously unknown to her super strength and bash Spike once good. Hopefully knocking some much needed sense into the peroxide blonde, it seemed to work for Buffy.

"Ah, niblet," he breathed in just below her ear, she felt the ghost of his exhale wash across her neck, stirring her hair, "you smell like slayer." If Dawn was able to speak, she would've whacked the stupid vampire on the shoulder and reminded him that that was because Buffy was her sister, as it was she dangled uselessly, bright splotches of color and darkness swimming across her vision. He released her abruptly, watching as she dropped and choked for air, chest heaving, hands fisted.

"What the hell Spike?" She hissed, scuttling back from the dark amusement plain on his features. She shivered, noticing the chill in the crypt, and the way the same arctic temperature was reflected in two watchful eyes. He tilted his head, regarding her for a moment, before asking in calm and lethal sounding tone.

"Do ' know you love?" He cocked his head, smirking, "Lil' niblet who knows my name and smells like that damned Slayer," his eyes narrowed, he leaned down, caressing her hair in a very not-Spike like gesture. He is features melted into hostile ridges, eyes going feral amber, startling the girl, who despite his previous threats had continued to look at him without fear, which was irritating, to say the least.

"Care to play a game pet?" He taunted, licking his lips, evaluating the weak human before him in almost lazy hostility.

"Game?" She echoed, in game face Spike looked twice as menacing, and she was beginning to get the distinct vibe that this was no joke.

"Oi," He grinned a disturbing smile, flashing a bit of pearly sharp fang. "If I win, luv, you tell me where that bitch of a Slayer is hiding."

Buffy? As in 'I love her enough to switch sides' Buffy? Dawn couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"And if I win?" She questioned slowly, releasing some tension as he slipped back into his normal ridge less profile. Her eyes were scanning the exit, replaying every self defense maneuver Buffy and Giles had ever taught her.

"Sorry pet," he smiled ruefully, "it's not that kind of game." Her stomach dropped to around her knees somewhere.

A dark chuckle punctuated his statement, intense eyes scanning the girl's features for some sort of recognizable fear. She studied him in confusion, mouth slightly agape, but her pulse stayed even, slow as she digested the meaning of his words.

In a flash he was beside her, a finger stroking the pulse point that beckoned him, begging him to drain her, and he let the temptation of it reflect in his eyes, in his posture.

"S-spike," she trembled as he drew nearer, she'd never seen this side of him before. He looked like he was seriously contemplating eating her, her skin was growing warm where his finger traced the vein, his eyes locked with the pulsating blue line. She swallowed, hard. He chuckled, the same sadistic not-Spike like sound, pressing her body back against the hard edge of his couch.

He crowded her in the scent of leather and tobacco, his lithe muscular form more than enough to dwarf her thin waifish one. His eyes were dancing; he was enjoying playing with her, trying to spark some fear in the confusingly calm chit. Knowing vamps could smell fear, and that something was definitely not on the up-and-up with her undead friend, instinct kicked in and she stilled, trying to make herself smaller as he loomed over her.

"Mm, tidbit," she smelled copper and smoke on his breath, "Where is the slayer?" he breathed, invading her personal space far too completely for comfort. She didn't mention how lucky he was that her sister had yet to appear, he didn't seem at all like himself tonight. She braced his chest with one arm, wincing as he closed the distance anyway, bending her wrist at a painful angle.

"I'll give you a clue," A cold, furious voice monotoned from over Spike's shoulder, "Turn around." As he did so his smirking face was met with the business end of the Slayer's fist, her emerald eyes burning in rage. She'd stopped by to see if Spike wanted to patrol tonight. "Don't-You-EVER-Touch-My-Sister-You-Fanged-Cretin!" Each word was punctuated with a fierce attack; the lithe limbs of her sister moved with skilled accuracy, beating a snarling Spike into the stone wall like she intended to splatter paint him across it.

"Hold on a tic, luv, your sister?" He caught her foot, twisting and splaying the blonde across the floor, "Since when does the Slayer have a sister?" Instead of answering his idiotic question, Buffy went for his knee, breaking the cap easily and flipping upwards to an attack stance. Spike grimaced, favoring the weakened knee, and attempted a retaliation that Buffy easily countered, twirling a stake in her hand as she held the blonde vamp to the floor with one sneaker.

"Bitch," he snarled, in game face.

"Future dust bunny," she countered, her face contorted with fury. Beneath the rage, safely hidden from blue eyes, there lurked an innate sense of betrayal. Used to being forgotten, Dawn watched the two interact in a deadly show of force, wincing at the blows to both sides, not sure cheering one or the other on was appropriate in this situation. Buffy was clearly winning, and the deadly piece of sharpened wood matched the knife like intensity of the slim and powerful girl as she pushed her opponent down for the third time, poised to strike the tip of the stake through his chest.

"NO!" she reacted without thought, shoving her elder sister away, and giving Spike the time he needed to escape her pin. The peroxide blonde threw her a calculating gaze that made her blood run cold, and with a sneer he had disappeared, leaving Dawn to face her sister's building wrath.

The elder of the Summers sisters eyed her sibling in outraged disbelief, "I can't believe you just did that!" Buffy yelled shaking her sister's shoulders firmly, her super strength made Dawn's teeth rattle. "What were you even doing here? He could've killed you!"

"You almost killed him!" Dawn accused, eyes watering with frustration and confusion.

"Of course I did! That's what I do, Dawn!" Buffy crossed her arms, green eyes flashing, "I kill the baddie vampires, hence the term 'Slayer'." Dawn rolled her eyes, sniffling and wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve.

"Spike's not evil…" Dawn paused, her mind replaying the scene she'd just played a part in, "Usually." She shook her head, dismissing her own doubts in favor of convincing her sister not to follow the blonde vampire into the night and finish what she'd started. Dawn knew her sister well enough to realize that this would be her first plan of action, stake Spike first, figure out why he'd turned all Big Bad on them again later.

"Neither was Angel, usually," Buffy retorted dryly, but when her younger sister's lip trembled she drew her into a close embrace. Speaking with her chin resting gently on her siblings head, she continued, "We'll drop you off at Giles'." Dawn fought the hug, pulling away determinedly despite Buffy's superior strength; her eyes were narrowed, full of accusation.

"You're planning on staking Spike, aren't you?" at Buffy's stern silence Dawn recoiled, her voice venomous. "After all he's done, you still think that's him, don't you? Buffy, Spike loves you," at her sister's polite expression of disbelief, she changed tactics, unwilling to get into the old 'soulless people can't love' debate yet again. "If it were Willow or Xander you'd at least ask Giles if something could be done." She stood in face off, mimicking her sister's cross armed stance, reminding Buffy of being a teenager, and how much harder Sunnydale made this emotional age.

"Alright," she sighed, puffing her blonde bangs, "Giles' first," she turned a warning glance towards her sister's starting clap of glee, her eyes sad but serious, "but Dawn, don't get your hopes up, he's probably going to say the same thing I did." Dawn nodded, deflating, wondering how she was supposed to survive the Hell mouth without her only real friend. She'd never say that to Buffy though, her sister already shit bricks at the fact that it had been Spike Dawn chose to run to when she'd…passed. Telling her Slayer sister she considered any vampire a friend would not go over well.

Unfortunately, if Buffy knew anyone well, it was her Watcher. Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose in a familiar habit, a pinched expression stealing over his features as he digested the two stories that had been placed before him. One from a shell shocked and protective Dawn, the other from his furious Slayer, her green eyes narrowed in promised vengeance. He sat, because this was not a matter that allowed him to pace, knowing what had to be said before it was uttered, and looking for the correctly delicate way to phrase it. Willow was hugging a couch pillow, she'd rushed over so quickly she was still in her PJs. Anya and Xander were on their way.

"Dawn, dear," The teenager regarded him with wary eyes, "I'm sorry, as it seems you've developed a-" at Buffy's look of warning he cleared his throat, "relationship with this particular vampire." He tried not to let his disgust at this show. "But if Spike is now chip less, and attacking humans, we must let Buffy do what's right." Dawn's face screwed into an expression of petulant defiance, and then, as if a shutter was pulled, she regarded him in stony silence.

"Dawnie," Willow regarded the teen sitting next to her, having associated long enough with the sisters to recognize that look, "This uber-sucks, but how much worse would it be for him to be left in all his new badness and start biting people again? What if he hurts Buffy?" she added, neither earned her a response.

"Right, well," Giles blinked, rubbing his hands together, "I will try and find something that relates to Spike's case," he announced, mostly for Dawn's benefit, "in the mean time though, I believe we should continue as usual. Buffy will patrol, and keep an eye out for a murderous Spike, while we research."

Dawn wasn't a kid anymore; she knew these so-called adults often forgot, but she no longer believed that the world was rainbows and kittens, and she sure as hell knew when someone was trying to pull a fast one on her. Maybe before she knew she was some mystic key, before Buffy had died, maybe that Dawn would've been content to sit and thumb through dusty books while her sister hunted the only person who'd ever bothered to try and understand her, but this Dawn was a little less gullible.

She knew life wasn't always fair, had seen with her own eyes that the good guys didn't always make it to the happy ending, but that didn't mean she had to lie down and take it! She might not be a Chose One like her sister, but she wasn't exactly a normal seventeen year old either, living on the Hellmouth had created strength in her that the oblivious peers in her school would never get. No one normal could ever understand.

After listening to a brief discussion about the night's arrangements, Buffy having decided she would take herself and Dawn home to gather sleepover gear for Dawn (who was apparently being imprisoned at Giles' for the night with no say in the matter) and more weaponry for her patrol. Dawn trailed her sister resentfully, eyeing the darkness in Sunnydale mournfully as she trudge along. They all talked of killing Spike like it was no big deal, just another vampire, just another night on the Hellmouth. Honestly, she didn't know what to do with the conflicting emotions inside her.

The reasonable, logical Dawn, insisted her sister was right, that once a vampire started biting it was time to put him down, but sentimental, caring Dawn was so outraged at this callousness she rejected it instantly. Insisting to herself she knew Spike; that she'd taken the time to see there was more behind the caustic Brit then he liked to let on, a gentler, kinder person, soul or no soul.

She turned to see Buffy lost in her own thoughts, lips pursed as cat like eyes scanned the seemingly innocent suburb streets for signs of impending doom. It was the Slayer who knew first, of course, given she had that whole Chosen One six sense on the undead and fanged, but she chose to remain silent and watchful rather than let on.

It was obvious how hard this was on Dawn, although she for one couldn't begin to fathom what had attached her sibling to the Big Bad, instinct told her that Dawn had yet to accept that Spike was now firmly back into the 'bad guy' category (where, personally, she always had felt he belonged). It wasn't unusual to sense a vampire in Sunnydale, and sentiment clouded her judgment. She didn't want to alert the other girl unless absolutely necessary and add undue strain to Dawn's already troubled mind. She realized her mistake moments too late.

Spike was a blur of leather and illuminated blonde locks as he pushed the small human against the tree trunk, whirling instinctively to face the rapidly approaching Slayer, "Stop," he ground out, flashing his game face meaningfully, "Or 'll crush baby sis here like butter." Buffy froze, green eyes darting around for a weapon or an ally, her teeth gnashed in self condemning fury, blaming herself for not being more aware.

Dawn breathed slowly, evenly, trying to slow her increased heart rate. Spike had his body pressed alongside hers, his hand at her throat, covering the purple splotches from his earlier levitation technique with one restraining hand. His blue eyes still had that same cold fire, anger and sadistic amusement. His attention was all for Buffy, though, who stood shifting foot from foot indecisively, her eyes pinned to her trapped sister in concern. Spike chuckled darkly, and Dawn could feel the vibrations through his coat, smell the cigarette smoke on his breath. His game face faded, and the familiar wry profile of the vampire returned in all its sharp beauty, pale features and burning eyes.

"Lovely night, eh Slayer?" Spike's expression darkened, "Everyone in this bloody town is crazier than usual."

"You're one to talk," Buffy commented dryly, she had a stake on her, but with Dawn so close it would be risky.

"One move, pet, and I snap niblet's neck," He didn't see the look of frustration crossing Dawn's face, but Buffy did. "'m no' exactly having a peachy night." He did look perilously close to snapping, fidgeting as he stood, antsy as he regarded the slayer, his pressure against Dawn still held firm though. But it was obvious something had changed since they'd last seen him, Dawn was sure, he looked spooked instead of just angry.

"Let Dawn go," Buffy demanded, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed in confrontation. "It's me you want anyway." She added as an afterthought, trying to goad him into turning his attention completely away from her sister.

"Actually luv," he laughed, a humorless chuckle, "As this little bit is the only one who hasn't tried killing me tonight, it's her I want." He frowned, shaking his head, "Besides, I have a feeling baby sis will be a lot easier to pump for information." He grinned maliciously.

"Let her go," Buffy gritted, wincing as he ground Dawn into the tree, eliciting a sharp cry of pain from the girl. A challenge exchanged between master vampire and Slayer, caught in their stand still.

"Don't worry pet, I'll send her back," Spike stroked the brunette's head, taunting the Slayer in delight. "In pieces." Buffy edged forward, and Dawn was flattened harder against rough bark, her arms would probably have scratches on them, if she didn't suffocate first.

"Spike!" Dawn squeaked, feeling as if her rib cage might snap. "Buffy!" she changed tactics when he didn't stop increasing pressure, her sister was taking slow careful steps towards the two at the tree. Buffy stopped, her body jerking to a halt at Dawn's plea, green eyes flashing pain and vengeance as she regarded the traitorous vampire.

"To think I almost believed your crap," Buffy spat, still in an offensive stance, "I won't make that mistake again, Spike." She warned, haughty and menacing, looking the part of the heroine inch for inch.

"As much as 'd love to stay and chat, Slayer, I don't have time to waste debating with you all night," Spike's arrogant smile was back, eyes like ice. "So say goodbye to sister here, we're going to have a nice long chat about what the fecking hell is wrong with everyone in this bleeding town." He sneered, flashing elongated teeth, "Get in my way Slayer, and your baby sister get's a front row showing of how nasty the Big Bad can be."

"When I catch up to you, there won't be enough left to fill a dust buster," Buffy threatened, hands fisted. "And if you hurt her Spike, I'll personally defang you. Tooth by tooth."

"Kinky Slayer, didn't know you 'ad it in you," He grinned roguishly, pulling Dawn to his chest and backing away from the tree carefully. His hand remained at her throat, baring her neck lest the Slayer get any ideas. He was still chuckling before he disappeared in one of those too fast vampire movements, the echoed laughter hung for a moment even after he'd gone. The only noise on the otherwise abandoned street.

Buffy hugged herself, feeling a chill in the air that hadn't been there previously, she needed to get back to Giles. So they could come up with a plan and rescue Dawn, before anything happened. And may God have mercy on that soon-to-be pile of ashes if he dared touch her sister, maybe good old Spike needed a reminder of how thoroughly she could wipe his undead butt across the floor before she re-killed him, permanently.

-*-

"Chains?" Dawn questioned; her unease apparent as he dragged her roughly towards one warehouse's walls. This place smelled like rat crap and saw dust, one of the many abandoned warehouses Sunnydale's undead claimed as their own. A pair of heavy manacles were steel bolted to the crumbling concrete wall, looking well rusted with unidentified corrosives, so that they looked twice as uncomfortable and menacing.

"Not your color luv?" He taunted, shoving her roughly to the ground. She tripped, catching herself on her palms, which ached fiercely, glaring up at him with accusing hazel eyes.

"You're being such an ass Spike," she scowled, righting herself, "what's your freaking problem already?"

"I s'pose it has a wee bit to do with the fact that everyone suddenly seems to think 'm not an arse," Spike shoved her into the wall, meeting wide hazel eyes with an intense glare, "since when does the Big Bad care about bein' mean for Christ's sake!" He gripped her wrists with almost bone breaking force, clicking the manacles around them with a furious scowl.

"Since you fell in love with Buffy, or was that just pretend too?" Dawn questioned bitterly. Like lighting a pale fist crunched into the solid wall right next to her head, crumbling the concrete in a fist shaped hole. She stared at the indent with fearful eyes, quite aware how that technique would affect her skull had he aimed slightly more towards the left.

"I am not in love with the Slayer," He spat, "the next person to say that is going to find themselves sorely sorry," he whispered with malice, eyeing her meaningfully. Dawn nodded slowly, wondering to herself what the hell was going on. He'd pulled a complete one-eighty in his personality, almost like a completely different person, and now he suddenly no longer loved Buffy? The same person he'd been moping over for months and months?

He stood, straightening his leather jacket and lighting a cigarette. The smoke plumed out his mouth in short aggravated puffs as he regarded the human girl shackled to the wall. As he smoked he paced, Dawn's eyes trailing his movements avidly, seeing both the elder brother figure she'd gotten accustomed to relying on and the monster that had been threatening her for the better part of the night. Unfortunately they happened to be the same person. She was so pissed at him she just wanted to shake him until he stopped this weird and violent streak, but she very much doubted he would've allowed that even before he became all Big Bad again.

-*-

"He's got Dawn," Buffy flung herself into her watcher's arms, startling Giles immensely. Awkwardly the Englishman patted his Slayer's back, apparently at a loss, a flustered blush stealing across his features. Willow came to his rescue, prying the blonde off him and into her warm hug, murmuring nothing reassurances as the strong fighter broke down into tears.

"It's all my fault," she hiccupped, talking over Willow's beginning protests. "He's got Dawn and he's doing God knows what and it's all my stupid fault for believing his lies! This would've never happened if I'd staked him when I should've!"

"At least she admits it," Anya commented from the couch, earning her an elbow nudge from Xander, who mouthed that now was not the time.

"Oh, Buffy," Willow stroked her best friend's hair reassuringly; "It's not your fault. We all believed Spike, even Giles."

"Yes, well," Giles cleared his throat in embarrassment, "We all make mistakes."

"Yeah, now we just get to hunt him down and dust him, like any other baddie," Xander was clearly not as put out with this change of events as everyone else. He sounded excited at the idea, like a kid who finally got what he wanted for Christmas after waiting all year, and this earned him a censoring glance from Willow, who was leading Buffy towards the couch.

"I'm so worried," Buffy clenched her hands, trying to stop the water works. Sniffling, she clenched her eyes shut against unwanted predictions of what may or may not be happening to her sister at this very moment, "I don't think I can bear to lose someone else," her green eyes were bottomless with hurt, still shadowed with the strain of her recent back-to-life experience. "Dawn's all I have left."

"No, you have us," surprising everyone, Anya added one of her rare positive comments.

"Yeah," Xander grinned, gripping his fiancé around the waist with pride, "we'll get Dawnie back, Buffster."

"I'll start researching possible links between Spike and The Key," Giles wiped his glasses, addressing them all, "Though this might have more to do with Spike's personal preferences, we can't eliminate other possibilities."

"I'll help," Willow offered with a small smile.

"I'll start dusting newbies until somebody talks," Buffy announced, standing. "I need to do something," she replied to her Watcher's concerned gaze. Giles nodded, looking away abruptly. Their plan set, the Scooby gang started distributing large volumes of text from Giles' book shelf amongst themselves as Buffy gathered a few back up stakes and a crossbow from Giles. She took a large hunting knife from his outstretched hand, managing a weak smile.

"Ah," he blinked, "Buffy," he held onto it, locking their grip, "Do be careful." There was a tightness around his eyes that suggested the strain this cost him, to let her go out and hunt the baddies alone. Lately she'd had Spike as patrol backup, now she was once again going against the master vampire, and as always, this was no light matter. She nodded, brushing off his concern easily.

"Will do, don't wait up," she flung over her shoulder, slamming the door behind her. For the first time Willow noticed something she never had about Giles, the steady longing in his eyes as he stared at the closed door was more telling then he probably ever intended it to be. Unless she was mistaken, Buffy's Watcher was developing a crush on his Slayer.

-*-

"Tit for tat, niblet," he licked the blood off of one knuckle with a languorous swipe of his tongue. "I warned you." He added as she nursed her split lip, having made the mistake of referencing his previous infatuation with her sister. Only, how could she not say it? He kept asking her all these weird questions and then flipping out when she told him the truth, unnerved was a slight understatement about her frame of mind at the moment.

"Jerk," Dawn muttered darkly, for the first time that night eyeing him with disgust. He shrugged; non pulsed, putting his cigarette out across the wall in a shower of embers.

"Now, niblet, we start over, and if you even think the word Slayer and love together, I'll rip your tongue out, peachy?" He growled, "Starting with your name."

"Dawn Summers," Dawn gritted, turning her face away in frustration. He'd been acting like he hadn't a clue who she was since he began this interrogation, and she was pretty close to snapping his head off. If he was going to go all evil that was one thing, but he could at least cut the act and stop toying with her.

"Now why," he returned to their previous topic, "would everyone think that I suddenly like to dust my own kind, and spend my days pining over that Slayer whelp?" This was the question that had landed her in trouble, she sighed, staring at him through the loop her arms made.

"What do you think is going on?" She countered, not willing to be smacked around again so soon.

"If I knew that, pet," he pointed out with an arched eyebrow, "I wouldn't be asking you, would I?" He gritted his teeth, running a hand through his tufts of blonde hair in apparent exasperation. "I wake up, Dru's gone, some mortal chit is sleeping on my couch, half the people I knew are dead, and the other half thinks I'm a fecking bleeding heart over that itty bitty Slayer bitch."

His eyes narrowed dangerously, continuing his rant and lighting another cig, "Vamps who used to be my mates are trying to kill me," he laughed without humor, as seemingly confused as he claimed to be, eyeing her suspiciously with twin blue orbs. "And the only person who saved my arse tonight was the Slayer's kid sister." He shook his head, "that doesn't sit right with me, by the way pet, what in the hell possessed you from stopping big sis from making me ash?" He flicked the cigarette, eyeing her in calculation as he took a long slow inhalation of smoke.

"Well, until tonight," Dawn swallowed, not sure she was going to like his reaction to this, "I thought we were friends."

"Friends?" He arched an eyebrow in blatant disbelief. His sauntered over to her, kneeling on one leg so that their faces were almost touching nose-to-nose. He exhaled, blowing hot smoke across her face, making her choke and causing her eyes to water. "Tidbit, I drain little girls like you, occasionally I feck them, hell, when the mood strikes I'll even torture them a bit, see what make 'um squirm." His tone was decidedly sinister as he traced her cheek, chuckling at the defiant glare she shot him, "but niblet, I don't befriend humans." His tone clearly indicated how unappealing the concept was to him.

"What would make you believe me?" She demanded. She knew Spike, had spent hours in his crypt in the weeks after her sister had sacrificed herself, just talking with him about Buffy. Even if he was just pretending not to know what was really going on, she wasn't about to start denying the last year of her life for his amusement.

"I'm not sure," he answered candidly, "try me." He made the last sound like a challenge. Dawn sighed, smiling to herself despite her circumstances, in some ways Spike was always just Spike. Blonde and moody, his new talent for violent tendencies and chaining her to walls aside.

"Well," she racked her brain, thinking back to that night and what she'd learned about the handsome vampire in front of her. "You got your name from sticking railroad spikes into people?" She offered.

"Your sis could've told you that much," he scoffed, unconvinced.

She knew something he'd told her that she very much doubted he'd claim she learned from her sister, but she was going to save that as her ace in the hole. But after a few more failures, when even revealing his favorite daytime soap still didn't convince the surly vampire, a surprise considering she was pretty sure that wasn't public knowledge that the Big Bad liked that sort of thing, she found herself running out of options, and he seemed to be running out of patience.

"You were a poet," she blurted out, finally seeing a flash of surprise. "William the-" and with that there was another fist shaped hole in the wall, on the opposite side of the first.

"If this is all true, why can't I remember a damned thing?" He growled in frustration, his arms outstretched and set on either side of her head. "I think I'd recall a thing or two, starting with the love of my life running out on me." He looked dangerously on edge, face set in a hardened expression of denial as he hovered above her. Then his expression changed, blue eyes going lust lidded as he stared at her mouth for a prolonged moment. Dawn flushed, breath coming a bit harder as he stared, devious intent written plainly across his features.

"Lovely," he bent, licking a few stray drops of blood from her lip. Dawn gasped, pressing herself as far into the wall as she could possibly go, her lips tingling where his tongue had touched them. Shouldn't she be the essence of wigginess? Spike had just licked blood off her.

"Oh niblet," he groaned, "what is in that blood of yours?" He licked his lips, grinning. "Tastes like power." He closed the scant distance she'd managed to put between them easily, blue eyes burning as they traced the column of her throat. Dawn swallowed, remaining still as stone as his fingers traced the path his eyes had taken.

"S-spike?" At her almost whisper he glanced up, that same desire still evident in his expression. As long as she could remember, Spike had never stared at her like that.

"Shhh…." He put a finger to her lips, pressing against the wound and drawing a few more drops of crimson. He liked the way she tasted, spicy-sweet, the addictive lacing of power wasn't a bad addition either. Licking the blood from his finger he regarded her, the way her pert little breasts bounced with her labored breathing, the wary respect in those hazel eyes. For the first time that night since he'd woken up to this hellish reality, he was beginning to feel like himself again, the Big Bad.

He told himself it was the blood lust that convinced him, not the way she was looking at him, and definitely not the memory of this little wench throwing the Slayer off of him minutes before he became dust bin sized. Although, the latter hadn't hurt her odds, being as it was his original reason for kidnapping her, besides the obvious bonus of besting the Slayer and stealing her sister from right under her nose. Still, he remained firm that the reason for unlocking her cuffs had to do more with biting her and nothing to do with making her more comfortable. To prove it to himself he yanked her upwards, nearly pulling her fragile arm out of its socket, not giving her a chance to rub at her already raw wrists.

"What now?" She asked in trepidation as he dragged her up the creaking metal stairs. He turned, pausing for a moment to glance at her over one shoulder.

"Now, I show you what it's really like being friends with the Big Bad," He flashed her a smile that was all promised malice and fang and then continued forward, pulling her like a reluctant toy. Dawn didn't have to be psychic to know she wasn't going to like the end result of those words, and she found herself wishing that Buffy would find her soon. Like, before crazy Spike went all game face and turned her into a midnight snack.

-*-

Buffy surveyed the chaos she'd smeared across every visible surface of the demon bar. Broken chairs, some splintered and pilfered for stake usage littered the floor amidst shattered bottles and glasses alike, their contents soaking into the filthy wood. A few unconscious demons still lay about, the rest having scattered, and of course the only indication of vampires was two neat little dust piles.

It wasn't her fault the undead and damned got all touchy when the Slayer started asking questions. Apparently she wasn't the only one with a Spike-related beef, although this hadn't made anyone any more willing to have a heart to heart with Sunnydale's primary defense weapon. She sighed, crunching the debris under her black boots and searching for the cowardly bartender. Perhaps he'd fled during the commotion.

"Ah! Don't kill me!" the demon cowered, flabby skin wiggled as he attempted to conceal himself further behind the overturned table. Buffy hoisted Clem up by the scruff of his t-shirt, recognizing him from his previous visits to Spike's crypt. Lately she'd been fishing her sister out of that place more than was healthy for the teen girl; she just hadn't understood the appeal Dawn felt towards that creepy hole. Well, she supposed she wouldn't have to be worrying about that any longer, with Spike about to become about as substantial as the cigarette ash he frequently produced.

"Where's my sister?" Buffy hissed, she was not in a friendly neighborhood Slayer mood tonight. Tonight, she was in a frantic 'find-my-sister-before-the-unthinkable-happens' mode, and this was not a pleasant mode to find a super strong hell-hath-no-fury-like-a-Slayer-tricked Buffy.

"Your sister?" Clem's eyes darted from side to side, he held up his hands trying to appear more harmless if possible. "I-I haven't seen her, I swear." Clem liked Dawn, much better than her scary sister, the girl was an awesome movie watching buddy. She wasn't even put off by his appearance, a rarity to be sure.

"Spike, then, have you seen him?" She gritted, eyes narrowing. Clem swallowed, managing a weak chuckle.

"He came in here earlier, very angry," Clem eyed the debris around the bar, "Actually, his entrance and yours went over just about the same." Buffy rolled her eyes, not liking the comparison.

"What did he say? Anything about where he might be headed?" she demanded, hands on her hips. He shook his flabby head in animated denial. "Evil plans? Anything?"

"Well," the demon hesitated, looking unsure.

"What?"

"He did ask about something," Clem seemed troubled by the bit of information he was passing on, glancing at the Slayer meaningfully. "He wanted to know where Drusilla was, only…" confused by his friend's uncharacteristic behavior he continued, "he didn't remember her leaving him. A classic case of denial if you ask me." He added the last in an informative tone.

Buffy ignored him, only hearing one thing, Spike was still crazy (not shocking) and Clem had no idea where his fanged friend had gone. In frustration she kicked at a fallen barstool, cursing this town. How many people did it have to take from her until it had its fill?

Dawn won't be one of them, she promised herself feverantly, she couldn't bear to lose her last close family member. At this point she was looking forward to dusting Spike, not entirely sure it would be a quick dusting if he'd done anything to Dawn. In fact, she was willing to bet there would be a lot of bone crunching before the master vampire's final disappearing act.

-*-

"Spike," she spoke his name like she knew him, firm and demanding, "You are not going to bite me." He chuckled darkly, having pinned her down moments before despite her best attempts to resist.

"Oh really niblet?" defenseless, her body molded to him at every curve, hands captured above her head, he didn't really see what choice she had in the matter. He nuzzled her cheek, smiling as she flinched backwards, eyes burning bright with the adrenaline from their earlier tussle.

"Yes," she reaffirmed a bit breathlessly, "this isn't like you." She added the last almost like a plea; she'd never seen his features so darkened, his eyes so predatory, and the look he was giving her made her shiver. His grip on her wrists was firmer then the cuffs he'd placed her in earlier, sardonic blue eyes poured over her body in such a way that she held her breath.

"And you know me so well," he replied in sarcastic teasing, nipping her neck with his duller front teeth, causing her to yip and struggle uselessly. He smirked down at her wide, terror stricken expression, her legs butting his in a feeble attempt to gain leverage, and pressed his knees into her upper thighs, eliciting a pained noise from her.

"Apparently not, the Spike I knew would've never-"

"The Spike you knew?" He had to laugh in disbelief, "From what I've heard, pet, me and that Spike are as different as night and day. And niblet?" he whispered the last in her ear, and she tried to turn to face him, eyes defiant, so he shifted his grip, holding her chin still. "If we're going to be friends, you're going to have to stop squirming like that," he let the effect her wiggling and pathetic attempts to pry him off were having on his body be conveyed in one possessive, predatory glance, "or I'm gunna end up stickin' more than my fangs in you."

Her lip curled at the crud insinuation, eyeing him with a raised eyebrow, "Aren't I a little young for you?" She demanded in a haughty tone, an errant blush still stealing across her features. He tilted his head, a devious grin alighting his features as he pondered it.

"Isn't everyone?" He asked in false innocence, "Besides, tid bit, for now I'm only interested in one thing." His face shifted to hard planes, golden eyes searing her in remorseless blood lust.

She tried to wrench her chin from his fingers, but his grip held, and for the first time Dawn really felt what Buffy had always tried to calmly explain, Spike wasn't human. She'd always known he was a vampire of course, but she'd treated him as harmless, a friend with fangs sort of deal. Staring at the cruel glint of his features as he lowered his head, she knew that'd been a mistake on her part. He wasn't some outcast like her, different despite his will, the expression on his face let her know he glorified in his darker self, liked being evil. Had he really lost his memory, or had he always planned to betray them?

His fangs pierced flesh, and Dawn gasped, expecting pain, brutal mind numbing pain. It hurt, but not like she expected, it hurt like a static shock would, the spark hurts, shocking at first contact and then gone in a flash. A kiss of pain, and then nothing but the feel of his lips moving against the column of her throat, pulling, sucking blood from her veins in long languid swallows. In his desire to drink more easily he shifted, dropping his weight against her and cradling her head to the side, stroking her cheek absently with one long finger. She whimpered, scared despite her resolve to show no fear, had it hurt it would've made it easier to find the strength to struggle, as it was she was feeling heavier and more lethargic by the second.

He groaned, the noise vibrating across her jugular, and she felt like someone had suddenly hooked her body up to a microwave, burning from the inside out. She thrashed, the sizzling sensation electric in her veins, pooling heat in her abdomen and making every nerve ending unbearably sensitive. He held her tighter, forcing her to remain still under his crushing weight, but she still throbbed with unfamiliar friction, heat without source or signs of stopping rushing through her body and wiping out any coherent thought. She felt liquid, pliant, drowning in heat, the consistent pull at her throat not bothering her as it should have, her brain was seeing red, doused in flame. It seared there, devouring anything but the tantalizing lick of heat spreading throughout her body, consuming her.

-*-

Spike didn't usually have a taste for innocents, and there was no doubt looking at the peaceful expression of the Slayer's sister as she slept that that was exactly what this particular tid bit was. An innocent. He stared at the mark he'd left on her neck, two puncture points well hidden in what almost looked like a hickey. Her blood was like the heroine of liquid gratification, it was practically bursting with power, even more potent then the Slayer blood he'd drank, making him wonder what the seemingly powerless mortal was keeping from him. It was a possibility she could be naively unaware she even possessed it, but at the sheer amount he'd tasted in her veins he highly doubted this was the case. No, this little niblet was more then she was letting on. Only, what should he care?

Sensibly, Spike realized his not draining the brat dry was an uncharacteristic mercy on his own part. Sure, he'd had various women in his time, kept them alive (for a bit anyway) so he could feed and fuck at his own leisure, it was always nice to have a meal and a warm body on hand. Yet, she was a bit young for his usual appetites, and like he'd said, an innocent. Fiery little wench though, he recalled her struggles with a heated grin, fought him tooth and nail when she realized he had no intentions of playing nice or fighting fair. That squirming effort for release, mixed with the heady flavor of her blood, had given him a hard on, which she was unconsciously laying across, having passed out when he'd taken a little too much. Well, it'd been the chit's own fault for making it such a good sport, he reasoned remorselessly.

He touched the brunette strands splayed across his chest, thinking as he ran the silky texture through his fingers. He knew what he should do with the wench, if he had any sense he'd use her to bait the Slayer, end this nonsense about his supposed attraction to the bitch once and for all by draining her dry. With her weak baby sister in his evil clutches, he was positive the Slayer wouldn't be that much trouble at all; and there was nothing he enjoyed more than ridding the world of another Slayer. He could make it fun too, make sister here bleeding bait, always more interesting, maybe make the Slayer watch him drain her first. Break her heart before he broke her neck.

Then he saw a slim figure in his mind's eye, the way she'd blocked him from the business end of a stake, her eyes meeting his in askance as he'd slipped away. Remembered the hurt in those same doe-like eyes as she'd told them they were friends and he'd rejected the idea instantly. He wasn't some bloody house pet; he'd very well proven that at least.

The surprised fear in her gaze before he'd bitten her was enough to convince him he'd gotten the point across, at last. She was entirely too comfortable around him, adopting an easy familiarity at times that grated on his nerves, as it seemed to go along with her ludicrous explanation as to their supposed relationship. Friends, she'd said, he mused tracing the many marks he'd left on her neck, bruises and a large red bite mark that looked startling against the pale coloring of her throat. Would she still entertain the notion now? He wondered in amusement.

As the Slayer's sister you would think the girl would have more sense than to befriend any vampire. Especially one like him, intent as he was on ending the Slayers existence for his own proverbial notch on the belt, the blonde bint more then had it coming after all, she'd been an obnoxious pain in the arse since day one. The accusations of him loving her were plain revolting, and about as likely to happen as the platonic friendship her sister claimed. After his first taste of her, he wasn't about to stop, he knew he was already addicted to the potent power her blood promised, and he didn't mind the squirming tight little body that held it either. Both were fun, in their own ways, and had been a nice distraction from his hellish day.

She stirred in her sleep, fingers clutching at the fabric of his coat, body shifting slightly in slumber. He lifted her easily, effortlessly, and deposited her none too gently onto the couch, her body bouncing with the force of the short drop. She awoke fuzzily, eyes muddled with sleep and staring around uncomprehendingly for a moment, a sleepy smile on her face. Then she appeared to refocus, and her dual colored eyes met his with a sharp snap of wary unease. The filthy couch he'd pinned her too got a look of revulsion as she straightened and sat, adjusting her clothing and running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to straighten the muss.

"Buffy's going to shit a brick," she moaned, feeling the two indented wounds on her neck. She turned to Spike with fire in her eyes. "Then she's going to use it to smash your smug face in, and don't look at me like that!" she ordered as his grin grew wide and wicked, "it's creepy."

"Creepy?" He asked in amusement, hauling her against him with minimal force. "Oh tid bit, you don't know the half of it." He tilted his head, regarding her youth and vitality with keen unreadable eyes, she was still weak from the bloodletting, he could tell.

"Your right, for once," She added the last with a sniff, pretending his close proximity wasn't unsettling after their most recent… encounter. "I don't know the half of it, one minute you treat me like a kid, then the next like a happy meal, and then sometimes…" she trailed off, biting her lip. Sometimes, just recently, he looked at her like she used to catch him looking at Buffy, like he was having dark dastardly thoughts and enjoying them thoroughly.

His threat earlier rang in her ears, scalding her too naïve mind with the words' vulgarity, he couldn't have meant them. She was what? A tenth his age at most. Besides, Spike liked strong women, like that crazy weirdo Dru, or her tough-as-nails Slayer sister, not an immature teen like herself. Right? Right. Furthermore, he was totally in full Big Bad mode, uber evil style, so thoughts of that nature in concerns to weird lust-vibes were hereby banned. In fact, she was starting to get the awful stomach clenching feeling that saving Spike from Buffy was slowly becoming impossible.

She might be able to talk the Slayer into letting the whole kidnapping thing go, but fang marks? Dawn groaned inwardly, Buffy had this stipulation about baddie vampires using human's as midnight snacks, especially when it involved her little sister. Hopeless…

"Lettin' your mind wander niblet?" Spike toned in a indifferent drawl, a blonde eyebrow arched sardonically, "Think it's wise ta let down yer guard around me?" He was smoking again, a long exhale drifted past his lips, spell binding blue eyes burning at her in mocking inquiry. Dawn snorted, rolling her hazel eyes.

"Yeah, as if I've got a chance anyway," she crossed her arms, giving Spike a meaningful glare, "You've gone all Big Bad wonky again, so as I see it, there are two possible ways this will go."

"Oh? Enlighten me luv," he ordered with a saucy grin. Dawn's returning stare was half as amused, but twice as wary.

"Way one," she ticked off one finger, "Buffy comes charging in here all 'save the day' and ashes your undead butt." Pointedly ignoring his furious scowl she hurried on to the next possibility, "Way two, you keep up this me-Big-Badness, you-puny-human routine, bleed me, I die, and then Buffy turns you into a nice little urn sized trophy." She smirked, eyes flashing challenge, "Yep, that's about it." The blonde vampire snarled, flashing canine incisors, and Dawn swallowed, belatedly realizing taunting him was a sure fire way to get scenario two revving and ready to go. Dying wasn't on her agenda, but unfortunately for her, she wasn't the one making the plans, newly evil Spike was.

"Tell me, pet," he droned, seeming to be at ease, but Dawn felt the tension in the room, saw the hostile amusement in that lidded blue stare, "What is in that blood of yours? I taste," he licked his lips, "power, but it isn't Slayer, ' know Slayer…. Still quite a punch tho'." He tilted his head, blonde locks gleaming in the flickering florescent light, "So I think it's time for another game." His nimble fingers extinguished the remains of his cigarette, blue eyes dancing in malevolent mirth.

Dawn swallowed hard, eyes like circular discs as she regarded the malice dripping from her so-called 'friend'. "G-game?" she stuttered, trying for brave and bad ass, and ending up shaky and nervous. Damn.

"Yep," he nodded as punctuation, a smirk that was more sneer on his face, "I call this one, tell me what you're hidin' in that blood of yours or'll bleed you dry." He smirked, tilting his head, "Care to guess how to play?"

He was circling her, slowly, taunting her, his every movement liquid predatory grace. Dawn tried to follow his movements and ended up dizzy, she'd already told Spike once what she was, or was supposed to have been, what harm could come out of telling him again? On the other hand, being around the Scoobies and Giles had nailed down one philosophy in her, one that she'd had to learn the hard way, better safe than sorry.

"Um, I say I don't know and you let me off with a warning?" Dawn suggested in a small voice. The menacing vampire shook his head, preening his leather duster as he watched her.

"No, pet, and that's your only practice round, now," in a too quick vampire trick he was right behind her, breathing into her ear, she could feel his eyes on her neck, "try again." Dawn shivered as his cool breath ghosted her flushed skin. A nervous sweat broke out, she was certain he was hearing every beat of her erratic heart. His grips settled on her arms, and she felt goose bumps break out.

"Did I mention there's a time limit luv?" He breathed in warning; he could smell her power laced blood, begging for another good suck. His hands traced her arms, feeling her shiver of unease, and he chuckled darkly under his breath.

"Um…" Dawn stalled; her heart in her throat. His grip on her arms turned fierce, bruising, and she had to swallow a yelp of pain.

"Five…Four…" he toned merrily, she saw his nails elongate and assumed if she turned he would be the picture of nightmares, rigid face, and glowing yellow eyes.

"S-spike," she admonished, feeling sick, his grip turned painful almost bone crunching in intensity.

"Three…Two…" He whispered into her ear in a silky drawl of threat.

"One," a blonde hellion supplied, knocking the blood sucking fiend off of her sister with an outraged snarl. In a flash a piece of sharp wood was in her hand, and her lithe body was crouched, a tightly wound spring dying to pounce.

"Buffy!" Dawn wasn't sure if it was relief or warning that prompted her cry, but that one split second stretched into eternity as the Slayer met her sister's pleading stare, and that instant was all a certain master vampire needed. He jumped the blonde bint, snatching her pony tail and yanking her angry face to the side, ending it with a swift kick to her jaw, chuckling insidiously as he did so.

"Bloody bitch," he snarled, still in game face, landing a few choice kicks to the Slayer's stomach. Buffy coiled around the blows, in fetal position, trying to clear the stars from her vision. Pity, it appeared the Slayer wasn't at the top of her game tonight, but he'd shortly make use of her folly.

"Fecking wench, first I'll beat your ass to concrete Slayer, then 'll continue what me and baby sis started, fun eh?" He taunted, kicking her with each venomous word, Buffy contorted, spitting blood to the warehouse floor. Shuddering, she attempted to dim her own pain, to concentrate on how to evade his combat boots, which were slowly turning her insides into bruised organ mush.

"You know what your problem is Spike?" Buffy gritted, snarling as his boot crashed down on her forearm, snapping it. Spike looked down at the hurt Slayer, devious glee shining in his feral gaze.

"What, Slayer?" He asked wryly, pounding another kick towards her already well abused abdomen.

"You talk too much," She snatched his leg mid air, using it to spin the master vampire and with a mean crack he landed against the stone floor. Smirking smugly the blonde jumped to her feet in a quick flip, her green eyes hard and glassy with rage. She sneered, attacking the vampire with no hesitance, a blood lust akin to those she hunted brimming in her crazed expression.

"Oh, dear, is the Slayer mad?" Spike chortled, blood leaking from his split lip. "Pity luv, ' wanted to finish you off slow like, guess 'll save that for sis…" Laughing, he dodged her hazardous attacked, missing her rain of one armed punches by mere inches. Funny, he didn't remember itty bitty Buffy being such a rough player; last time they'd encountered each other he'd clearly had the upper hand. With one injured arm, though, it was only a matter of time.

"Buffy?" That was Willow's voice, high pitched, imploring. "Buffy??"

"Oh goody," Spike toned in dry mirth, "The prat gang is here," he lunged at the Slayer, miffed as she side rolled and kicked him efficiently across his clean shaven jaw. Damn, she was faster than he recalled too.

"Don't move," said a trying to be firm, but still fearful Dawn, her arm braced around the front of Spike's leather duster, her hand fisted around Buffy's discarded stake. "Or I'll dust you." Even she noticed the lack of conviction in that statement, but she held steady, determination and doubt playing a morbid teeter totter in her brain. Spike went to pull the simpering brat off him, but she dug the wooden spike into his back, right around the heart area, and he stilled, eyes narrowing calculatingly.

"Dawn pet," he tried for his best coaxing persona, "put down the stake like a good girl, or 'll tear off your arms."

"Dawn, dust him," Buffy implored, eyeing her sibling meaningfully. Dawn's confused gaze flickered between the taller stronger vampire in her arms, and her sister, the all powerful Slayer.

If Dawn was Buffy, Spike would be a dust pile by now, but she wasn't Buffy, and sadly, she had no intention of becoming Buffy, she'd had enough heart to hearts with Willow to know the blonde Chosen One had never fully recovered from staking Angel that one time, and she didn't need that sort of emotional trauma haunting her psyche. Sure, she didn't love Spike, not in that way, but she couldn't dust him, he was her friend, and something was terribly wrong with him, she just knew it.

"Don't move," she hissed, as the peroxide blonde shifted, adding a meaningful jab of sharp wood to emphasize her point. Spike winced, then he growled, a low vibrating sound that she could feel through her whole body, as tightly pressed as they were.

"Buffy! Dawn! Oh….Oh shit," the witch breathed weakly. Willow had finally located the sounds of the scuffle, and her eyes rapidly took in the scenario before her. The genteel red head looked quite taken aback, only moving to catch a madly dashing Xander and prevent him from running head first into the battle arena. He frowned, and then echoed his friend's exclamation. Anya stayed behind, watching, hiding.

"Crap, Dawnie, stake the blood sucker already," Xander wheezed, out of breath, leaning on his knees for support.

"Yes, pet, don't be coy," Spike taunted candidly, "Do sis proud." His tone was icy, mocking, and disdainful. Dawn shuddered but stayed put, her hazel eyes misting with divided loyalties. She felt like her heart was breaking, this was Spike damn it. Passions watching Spike, the guy who liked sarcastic wit and tolerated her more than her sister or her friends ever had time for, he was the one who held her when she cried over Buffy's death, and she didn't understand why she was the only one in the room who understood that, who placed value on it. It wasn't fair!

"I can't," she whimpered, feeling be fret, "You don't understand, he's my friend," she ignored Spike's disbelieving snort, and focused on Buffy and her friends, begging them to understand. Buffy's eyes softened and she met Dawn's pleading and now slightly crying stare with sisterly compassion.

"Dawnie, he was your friend," there was no disguising the disgust the Buffy felt at admitting this aloud, "but not anymore. Friends don't kidnap other friends." She glared at the master vampire in question, hating him fiercely for putting her sibling through this much turmoil, "If I hadn't shown up, he might've bitten you." Dawn emitted a choked sob, not finding it in herself to admit he'd already bitten her; that little fact would certainly not help her case.

"Can't we help him?" She begged, "Can't we try?" The stony look from her sister told her more certainly than any words that no one had really seen that as an option to begin with. It made her angry. Damn it, if this was Angel, Buffy would try.

"Er, I hate to be sayin' this niblet, seein' as you've gone all noble and the like," Spike toned in acidic sarcasm, "but you better be makin' a choice, else 'll be makin' it for you." His warning was brimming with lethal intent. What was the chit's malfunction? She was pleading with the Slayer, over him no less, was the girl daft? He'd as sooner drink them all dry than show her the same mercy, stupid bint; she made Dru look damned near sane. No sense of self preservation, that was a mighty fine way to end up dead in the Hellmouth.

"Shut up Spike," Buffy spat, taking a stake from Willow, "Dawn, move." She ordered in the 'I am not to be contradicted way', if her sister couldn't handle what needed to be done, then she'd take the decision from her, and do it herself. She eyed the brunette with a gaze of steely determination.

"No," Dawn insisted stubbornly, "You don't understand, he doesn't remember! Not Dru leaving, not the chip, nothing, what if this is some big plot by somebody else? What if someone wants him dead?" She voiced her earlier doubts, ignoring Spike's grumbled complaints that they were all friggin' loony.

"Dawn," Buffy huffed, halting her approach, "He's a vampire, it was only a matter of time before he turned on us, why do you think I warned you away from him?"

"Yeah, Dawnie," Willow pleaded, "He's all baddie now, we're sorry, but we won't let him hurt anyone else."

"Listen to your sister," Xander added, loyal to Buffy all the way through.

"Decide, tid bit," Spike growled, "I meant what I said 'bout your arms." He added the last mostly to taunt Buffy, who rose to the bait predictably, walking in determined strides towards the master vampire and the sniffling hazel eyed girl, a stake poised and ready to dust him. Wide, liquid brown-green eyes met her sibling's feral emerald, and with another choked sob, Dawn mouthed, 'I'm so sorry…' and the stake she held clattered to the ground.

"About bloody time!" Spike roared, hauling the chit around him in a forceful tug. His sapphire blue eyes danced with triumph as Buffy was forced once more to halt, murder shining in that stunned green glare.

"Let her go, Spike," Buffy demanded coldly, "You're no match for the three of us."

"All the more reason to take one down with me, eh pet?" Spike ran a hand down the trembling and imprisoned girl's face, chortling as she flushed and defiantly turned her head away from him, "Ain't this peachy, tid bit? Bet your wishin' you'd staked me when you 'ad the chance, eh?" Dawn felt like she was going to throw up. It'd been a gamble, anyway, a stupid one… Like Spike would really back down. It'd been a desperate hope, foolish. Maybe the Spike she knew would've; but she was quickly learning the Spike from her memories and the one before her now were two very different creatures.

"How 'bout this Slayer," Spike grinned, hugging the Chosen One's sister to him, enjoying the scent of her fear, he licked a salty tear drop from her cheek with a swipe of his tongue, smirking at the revulsion this provoked from both sisters. "I'm feelin' generous, so'll make a deal. You watch me and baby sis 'ere walk out all peaceful like, and maybe I won't snap little Dawnie's neck like a toothpick." He vamped out, eyes feral and amber, ridges pronounced, and softly removed the hair from the captured chit's neck, meeting the Slayer's stare meaningfully.

"Shit, why the hell…" At Willow's reprimanding look Xander swallowed what he'd been about to say, which was something rather not nice about the side Dawn seemed to have chosen.

"She's a kid Xander," Willow said softly, her heart going out to the girl, "Don't worry Dawn, we'll save you." Dawn had to smile, albeit weakly, at Willow's never ending optimism.

"I have a better deal, you let her go, and I'll dust you quickly," Buffy half growled, her eyes narrowed in calculation, circling the master vampire. Spike smirked, and with a candid shrug his grip tightened.

"'ave it your way, luv," He retorted with a feral grin, flashing deadly and lethally sharp fangs. With no more ado he bit the brat, sinking fang deep into her jugular. Dawn cried out in agony, feeling the world swirl as he took deep drinks from her veins; she'd lost too much blood already, it was too soon for another draining. Slowly but surely the world swam into a fizzy blackness, darkness ebbing at her vision. The last thing she heard before her eyes drifted closed was Buffy's enraged scream. Her last panicked thought was, I'm dying….

A/N: Is it wrong to love Spike at his Biggest and Baddest? I hope not. I like the Spuffy pairing too, but I felt a Spike-Dawn (I think Spawn is a horrible shortening) would be more my style. Buffy's awesome, but she gets hung up on that me-slayer and you-vamp thing too much. More evil Spiky goodness to come! And as always, review at your leisure.

Spike: She means review now. Or I bite you.

Buffy: Then I stake you.

Dawn: *Fed up* YOU GUYS!