***************************************

Dawn found him standing at an all-night hot dog stand, slathering bratwurst with, from what she could see, every condiment on the counter and a few he might have brought himself. When he turned around, Dawn smiled up at him viciously.

“Fucking hell,” he snarled. “You’re like a bad penny. What is that, some kind of monk thing?”

“No,” Dawn snapped angrily. “It’s a me thing. You used to know that.”

“I thought you went back to the club.”

“Why?” she challenged. “Did you follow me?”

He turned his back on her again and gathered up his meal. “Isn’t that supposed to be my question?”

Her little chin jutted out. “I caught a cab. After you left me in that alley where I could have been raped and murdered and left in ditch somewhere.”

“You look fine to me.”

“Spike.” She moved a few tentative steps closer. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“No.”

She felt her face beginning to crumple and fought for composure. “What happened to you? Why are you being like this?”

“Because I want you to leave, and you're apparently too dense to take the hint.”

Dawn drew back, stung. “What, so you came here for Buffy and I’m just in the way?”

“Wasn’t looking for you, Dawn. Sure as hell not looking for your sister.”

Are you killing again?”

He looked past her and smirked. “Is that it, then? Needin’ a reason to put me down?”

“Besides the fact that you’re being a total dickhead? It’s a valid question. Buffy helped you get your chip out, and now you’re back among the living. Well, unliving.” She reached out a hand to touch him.

He smiled at her unpleasantly before jerking his head away. “Appreciate the update, Dawn, but seems you’re not twigged to the latest news.” He gestured, and Dawn turned her attention to the cheap, warped mirror across the counter.

It was Spike. Well, duh.

No, wait. Not duh.

Not possible. He was a vampire, and vampires didn’t have reflections; when she’d first started visiting him in his crypt years ago she’d amused herself endlessly with the phenomenon. Sitting at Spike’s feet, tilting the makeup compact she’d stolen from Buffy from side to side while Spike lounged in the armchair and flipped channels.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, staring at his blurred and distorted image.

“How?” she heard herself asking.

He shrugged.

“Holy crap,” she said.

“Right. Well, it’s been fun but I gotta get back –”

Dawn shook herself out of her stupor. She couldn’t let him leave, not now. Even if he was being a complete and utter jerk. He'd pay for it later, though.

“Great,” she replied with forced sunniness. “Back where?”

He looked suddenly wary, as if he’d given away more than he intended. “My place. Alone.”

“As if! You haven’t even shown me where you’re staying.”

“It’s temporary. Boring. Nothing to see.”

“Then we’ll have time to go for ice cream afterwards.”

He grunted and shook her off – even human, Spike was impressively strong – but she trotted after him and there wasn’t much he could do short of tossing her in front of a passing bus. Which, considering the expression on his face, could very well have been on his mind.

His new lodgings surprised Dawn. Near the lake, with a sweeping view. Definitely the high-rent district; the building he parked outside was new and gleaming and full of windows. He walked right up to the front, used some sort of keycard to enter and Dawn had to dash to catch the door as it swung closed behind him.

They rode the elevator in silence although Spike’s expression turned increasingly dark as they climbed. He got off on the twelfth floor and Dawn followed.

He paused at one of a dozen nondescript doors. “Look,” he said. “Let me go in, clean the place up a bit. Bachelor pad and all that. You wait here, yeah?”

She shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.” As soon as the lock turned in the door she slipped past him, into the apartment.

“Like I was just gonna let you leave me out there,” she called over her shoulder once she was inside. “I swear, you –”

She stopped short. “Oh,” she said. “Oh.”

Spike sighed, elbowed past her into the apartment. “Dawn,” he nodded, “meet Emma.”

***************************************

By two a.m. Dawn had seen all she needed to. The shock of Spike’s…friend had worn off, and now she lingered at the door, armed with knowledge but unwilling to leave.

“You said we could get ice cream,” she whined. Who could resist the patented Dawn-whine?

“No, you said we could get ice cream. I said ‘Please leave’. Repeatedly.”

“Come on, Spike…”

“I’ve no doubt you could get a dozen fellows to take you out for a bite.”

“Gee, like your buddy Nate?”

Spike gazed at her impassively. “What did you want me to do? Told you to shove off. And I’m not about to bugger a deal to salvage whatever scraps of maidenly honor you still have left.”

That hurt. Dawn retaliated swiftly. “I’m going to tell Buffy about you. About everything,” she added, looking meaningfully back into the apartment.

“Wish you wouldn’t. But it’s up to you.”

That had been her hammer, and he’d proven immune to it. Dawn felt suddenly deflated. “Fine.”

“All right, then.” He started to shut the door.

“Spike?”

“What now?”

“I…I like Emma. I mean, she seems nice. And she loves you -”

The door closed.

***************************************

“Buffy! Buffy! Wake up!”

Anya was next to her now, crooning softly in Buffy’s ear as she led her to the table. “You really should join us, Buffy. You’re already halfway there.”

“Buffy!”

She jerked and cried out, knocking Dawn a few feet back.

“It’s me. Dawn.”

She tried to calm her breathing. Running a hand over her face, she found her skin damp and her hair matted with sweat.

“What – what is it? What time is it?”

“About four. Buffy, we have to talk.” Buffy came fully awake.

“Oh, my God. You’ve been arrested.”

Dawn made a noise of impatience. “Yes, and they let me out of jail so that I could personally deliver the news. Buffy, Spike’s alive. Like – really alive.”

Buffy took in the glow of the streetlamp as it played across Dawn’s skin, the sound of her accelerated breathing, the fervent clutch of her fingertips against Buffy’s too-slender arms.

“It’s true,” Dawn whispered. “I saw him. I touched him, Buffy. He’s here. In Cleveland. We can't be so bad, can we, if he came back to us?”

Buffy reached for her sister and Dawn went into her arms willingly. They curled up in bed the way they did when they were young. And suddenly Buffy was laughing and crying all at once.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She was supposed to give up the people she loved – Angel, Mom, Giles, Spike – not get them back. Hadn’t the last few years been about getting strong, getting hard in the face of loss? She wasn’t supposed to have beautiful things dropped in her lap. She was supposed to survive. Alone. And she hadn't realized, hadn't known that learning of his vitality could spark her back to life as well.

Dawn had turned into a little mother, wiping Buffy’s eyes and murmuring over and over again the words she knew Buffy needed to hear. “I saw him. It was him. Spike’s alive. Really alive, like us. Warm and breathing and oh, Buffy, you have to fix him, make him love us again, please…”

They were both crying now, foreheads bent together until finally Buffy pulled away.

“God, I’m a mess.” She couldn’t keep the note of giddy hysteria from her voice. “I have to get cleaned up. What did he say? What –"

“There’s something wrong with him, Buffy. He’s not the same.”

Buffy rose unsteadily, fumbled for the light switch. “Of course. If he’s alive, like you said – of course he’s having a hard time. But it’s okay, Dawn. It’ll all be okay. We’ll help him. He needs us.” She began pulling on a new pair of slacks and one of her old frilly blouses that she hadn’t worn lately. “Where is he?”

“By the lake. On 9th Place just past Key Plaza,” Dawn said mutedly.

Buffy turned, practically beaming at Dawn. No, glowing. “Let’s go.”

Part 5: Pyrite

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