Dawn’s waking seemed to immediately drive the demon back, and Buffy’s internal struggled instantly ceased. It was as if, with the powerful fight Buffy was already giving her, the Slayer-demon knew she would not stand a chance against the combined power of Buffy and her sister – and simply just gave up, at least for the moment.
Joyce cautiously got the car back on the road for the second time, once it appeared that Buffy was in control, and headed toward the exit and the motor inn she had mentioned. Dawn dutifully stayed awake, though she was very sleepy, turned around in her seat to keep a weary eye on her sister, who was now completely calm and quiet – if a bit morose.
“Buffy?” Spike said cautiously, edging nearer to her, concern in his voice.
“Don’t,” she warned him, holding up a hand and turning slightly toward him, as if to ward him off. “Spike – please – I don’t want to take a chance of hurting you…”
He sat back slowly, though reluctantly. His every instinct told him to offer comfort to his mate, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and reassure her; he could feel the fear and confusion rolling off of her, and wanted to be able to do something to make it stop.
Still, he understood the danger, and was not overly eager to meet with her deranged alter ego again.
Joyce parked the car outside the tiny motel, turning around in her seat to silently gauge the situation.
Dawn was tired, but alert, as she calmly watched her sister in the backseat, with a neutral expression on her face. Buffy still sat huddled into a corner of the backseat, her knees drawn up to her chest, as far as she could get from Spike – but her head was raised, and she was clearly lucid and in control. In respect to her wishes, Spike was sitting far across the seat from her, but watching her closely, his piercing gaze searching her face with concern.
No one said a word.
“Well,” Joyce finally spoke softly, breaking the silence. “I’m gonna go in and get the room. I’ll be right back…”
“Rooms,” Spike corrected softly.
Joyce frowned for a moment, puzzled as to his meaning – and then her eyes widened in alarmed understanding. “No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “I know you two are – are mated and all, Spike – but you know what could happen if she loses it again. You are *not* going to share a room alone. She has to be near Dawn…”
“Yeah, for now,” Spike agreed, slight agitation in his voice. “But she bloody well won’t be when we…” His voice broke off suddenly, as it occurred to him that it might not be wise to mention their plan in front of Buffy and risk provoking her demon to attack again.
Joyce nevertheless understood. “But we’re not even sure how we’re going to manage that yet, Spike…”
“True. But when we *do*, we’re gonna need a separate room. We can all stay in the one until we figure out how we’re going to do this,” Spike pointed out reasonably.
Joyce had to admit that he had a point. She nodded slowly. “All right,” she conceded. “Be back in a minute,” and she got out of the car to go inside.
A long moment of silence passed before Buffy spoke, her voice soft and miserable. “I’m sorry,” she told them again. “I’m so sorry, guys…I didn’t mean for this to…”
“It’s all right, pet. We’re gonna fix it,” Spike assured her gently, his heart aching to hear the pain and sorrow in her voice. Tentatively he reached out a hand toward Buffy across the seat, in a silent offer of cautious comfort.
Buffy nodded slowly, reaching out and taking his hand in hers in a desperate, needy grip. “I think – I think I’m gonna be okay for a little while,” she said quietly, relief in her voice. “Seems like after we get it fought back, it takes it a little while to get its strength back up. So we should have a little bit of time.”
“Good,” Spike whispered, nodding with relief in his eyes as he slowly, tentatively slid closer to her across the seat. He wanted nothing more than to be close to her. She allowed him to put his arm around her as he added encouragingly, “You did it, pet. That time you did it yourself…”
“Not completely,” Buffy corrected him, shaking her head as she relaxed slightly into his arms. “I mean – I was *gonna* beat it – but it was giving me quite a fight until Dawn woke up. Then it was like – I don’t know – it just retreated immediately. Like it – knew that Dawn could make it weaker than I could.”
Dawn frowned, turning more fully in the seat to face her sister and her friend. “Then – that means it’s *not* as weak.”
Spike was confused, frowning, alarm in his eyes. “What do you mean, Bit?”
“You’re saying she backed off before I could *make* her weak – so – she’s probably trying to conserve her strength so she can attack again. But it’s like – doing it while I’m right here is stupid, because me and Buffy together’ll just sap her strength and make her weak again.”
“So – she’s retreated, but not necessarily any weaker,” Buffy concluded grimly. “Just – biding her time until you’re not around, Dawnie.”
Dawn nodded slowly. “That’s what it seems like to me.”
Buffy sighed wearily. “I’m really starting to not see any way out of this besides scarring my baby sister for life.”
Dawn looked up at her dubiously. “If it wasn’t for Spike I’d say screw it. I’d rather let your demon kill me.”
“Dawn!” Buffy looked shocked.
“Oh please,” Dawn muttered. “I’ve heard you say a lot worse.”
“I’m not talking about your language,” Buffy informed her in an offended tone. “If it wasn’t for *Spike*? That’s great, but what about me? I’m not really thrilled about the idea of going through life with this Slayer thing inside me, either.”
“Okay, if it wasn’t for *you* and Spike,” Dawn conceded, then frowned. “And Mom. And – whoever else the Slayer demon might hurt…oh…” She gave up, heaving a weary sigh. “Looks like I’m headed for therapy, doesn’t it?” she said darkly.
Buffy did not respond.
Then, Spike spoke up slowly, his eyes widening as an idea occurred to him. “Maybe not.”
Buffy gave him an expectant, hopeful look. “Whaddaya got?” she asked.
His smile was reassuring and apologetic. “Nothing I can share with the class, love. Just – just Dawnie. Well – and Joyce, when she gets back…”
“So…nothing you can share with *me*,” Buffy amended his words flatly.
“Well – not when it concerns our uninvited eavesdropper,” he reminded her, a bit defensively, anxious, pleading blue eyes searching hers and hoping that she would understand. “It’s best if I don’t tell you everything right now, love. Surely you understand that…”
Buffy fought back the sense of insecurity and hurt that rose automatically in her at Spike’s intent to share his plan with Dawn but not with her, trying hard to remind herself that it made sense, and was the only safe thing to do. They weren’t going to very well defeat this thing if it knew *all* their plans, were they?
She sighed. “You’re right. Do you – need me to get out of the car for a minute?”
“Or we could get out,” Spike offered in a conciliatory tone, aware that the situation was uncomfortable and emotionally hurtful to Buffy, and wanting to make it better.
“No,” Buffy sighed again. “If you’re in the car you can lock the doors if I – if something happens.”
She did not wait for a response, but just got out of the car – closing the door behind her a bit harder than she needed to. She really couldn’t help it. She knew that Spike was right. If she knew about whatever his idea was, then so would the Slayer demon – and that would mean that it could fight against it that much harder. It was better this way. It really was.
That did not make it any easier to accept.
She hoped that it was not going to take very long for Spike to fill Dawn in on what his plan was. The longer it took, the more time her mind had to concoct insecurities and fears. Besides, she wasn’t all that sure that Spike and Dawn alone was a much safer combination than herself and Spike alone – not when she was within reach of the two of them.
The Slayer inside her did not seem pleased at being left out.
Fortunately, it was only a couple of minutes before Spike opened the back door, gesturing for her to get back in.
“All done, love – now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he said, his tone light – but she could hear the forced, worried note in it.
“No, not at all,” she replied sweetly with a huge smile, slamming the door a second time after sliding in.
“Buffy,” he said softly, placatingly, as he reached for her hand.
“Don’t touch me,” she muttered as she jerked it away petulantly, turning slightly away from him in her seat.
She knew it was petty – knew that his actions had not been meant as a rejection. He was only doing what needed to be done – to *help* her. But somehow, she couldn’t help but feel angry and insecure about the whole situation.
Some part of her, deep down, recognized with alarm that it was a combination of her own emotions and those of the demon that she was feeling, but that did not make it any easier to control what she was feeling.
Spike could feel the difference in her demeanor, and wisely backed off, though his own feelings were hurt a bit by her very *real* rejection.
Dawn frowned, indignant. “Buffy, he’s only trying to help you! How can you…?”
“Not now, Bit,” Spike cut her off quietly but firmly, catching her eye and giving her a meaningful look.
Buffy did not miss it.
“What’s that about?” she snapped defensively. “ ‘Oh, let’s try real hard not to upset the schizo, she might get dangerous or something! Let’s handle her with kid gloves and not tell her anything in case she might use it against us to kill us in our sleep!’” she sneered, turning away from them both angrily.
Spike and Dawn exchanged another look, outside her line of vision. If Buffy had truly been completely in control at the moment, they knew she would not have said anything like that – for the simple reason that just such a fear was a very real concern to the *real* Buffy.
Demon-Buffy might very well find the thought of killing them all in their sleep a cause for sarcastic amusement.
*Buffy* Buffy on the other hand, would most definitely not.
But the time to act was not yet.
Joyce returned to the car, bearing two key cards to the rooms, and smiled too brightly at the occupants of the car. “We all all right?” she asked.
“Just fine,” Buffy snapped, still glaring furiously out the back passenger window.
Joyce shot her a worried frown of alarm, before giving Spike a questioning look.
“You heard the girl,” he said in a quiet, calm voice. “All’s well, pet. Let’s just get to the rooms.”
She was still a bit confused, but something in the vampire’s tone made Joyce obey. She pulled the car around to the back of the motel, and they all got out and made their way up the rickety old steps to the pair of second floor rooms they had procured. Joyce only bothered to unlock the door to one of them, and they all filed in, dropping piles of luggage and various items they had brought with them haphazard onto the floor.
The only one with Slayer-strength among them had carried nothing, and had gone directly into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Joyce shot the violently closed door a worried look, before asking in a low, carefully calm voice, “Someone wanna tell me what’s going on?”
Dawn opened her mouth to speak, but before she could respond to her mother’s question, Buffy had opened the door to the bathroom and was already emerging again, a much different expression on her face.
She smiled brightly as she said, “So what’s to eat? I seriously doubt this place has any kind of room service, so are we gonna order in a pizza, or have vending machine cuisine?” Although her words and tone were pleasant -- falsely so -- the anger in her eyes was still clearly visible, and the underlying sarcasm was thick in her voice.
Joyce stared at her apparently dangerously psychotic daughter blankly, and then looked questioningly between the vampire and her youngest daughter. She was not sure whether or not she should feel reassured by the fact that neither of them seemed surprised by Buffy’s strange behavior.
“Um, Mom?” Dawn asked in a pointed tone, glancing obviously at Buffy, who was lying on one of the double beds, flipping frenetically through channels on the TV with the remote control. “Let’s – um – check out the other room, okay?”
Joyce looked at her as if she had just lost her mind. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave Buffy alone here with…”
Her voice was simultaneously drowned out and trailed off as Buffy rolled her eyes viciously and pointedly turned the television up. The expression on her face screamed volatile, hormonal adolescence, and brought to Joyce’s mind a memory of just such an action by Dawn a couple of weeks ago, when she and Buffy had been discussing something to do with the younger daughter’s schoolwork or something like that.
It was identical to what Dawn had done at that time -- a pointless little rebellion designed to prove just how much she did not care that they were talking about her as if she was not there.
Except – Buffy *did* seem to care. Frighteningly too much.
Joyce gave Dawn a pointed look, eyebrows raised as if to say, “See?”
“I think that’s a bloody good idea,” Spike said with an easy smile, his eyes focused on Joyce’s confused gaze. “Go on, now, love. You’ll just be a minute or two…what could happen in a minute or two?”
Joyce stared again for a long moment, before asking another question, her voice low and calm.
“Have you two completely lost your minds?”
“Joyce,” Spike said soothingly, drawing closer to her, taking the older woman’s arm and leaning in close to whisper something in her ear, clearly inaudible to Buffy over the obnoxiously loud television.
Buffy’s voice was louder and more obnoxious.
“I’m right here, you know!” she snapped in a scathing, furious tone.
Joyce looked slowly between her volatile, moody daughter and the vampire beside her, quietly encouraging her to go with her youngest daughter and leave him alone with the potentially very violent, obviously furious young woman who could break him with a single touch.
“Okay,” she said softly, nodding, as she followed Dawn out the door of the room, closing it firmly behind her.
Leaving Spike alone with his paranoid, agitated, and very dangerous mate.
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