Buffy nudged her toe in the dirt to push the swing into motion. When Ryan had suggested leaving the cemetery, she hadn’t expected to wind up at the playground. He had said he wanted a place a little more public, and if you counted the occasional couple looking for a good make out spot, it was that. It wasn’t the safest place in Sunnydale—there really wasn’t any truly “safe” place in Sunnydale—but she wasn’t going to bring that up now. Ryan actually seemed like a normal guy who genuinely seemed to like her.
She wasn’t going to ruin it this time. She deserved a little happiness. He was a nice, normal guy who wouldn’t expect her to face the darker aspects of herself. A guy who wouldn’t work his way into her heart only to leave her when she needed his help the most, like…
“Buffy?” Her head shot up at the sound of her name. Ryan leaned against the swing set looking down at her with a slightly confused expression. How long had she been sitting there in her little dream world?
“Wh-what?” she sputtered trying to remember what had been going on before she had slipped off. “Did you say something?”
He shrugged as he took a few steps and settled onto the empty swing next to her. “Oh, nothing important really. Is everything okay? You looked like you were miles away.”
“It was nothing,” she replied plastering a fake smile on her face in hopes of side tracking the conversation. “Just feeling a little tired, I guess.”
“Maybe I should take you home,” he suggested. “I’ve been taking up your entire night, and I’m sure you’ve got to get up early for work.”
“No, I’m fine,” she replied quickly. “I’m kind of a night owl myself. What about you? Don’t you have work in the morning too?”
“Oh, I make my own hours.” His lips twitched into a small smile. “My associates won’t mind waiting for me.”
“Must be nice,” Buffy sighed. If only her job would wait for her rather than jumping out of the shadows at her at the most inconvenient times. “What do you do?”
Ryan studied his shoes. For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to answer. She said a quick pray that he wouldn’t say it was top secret.
“I guess you could say I’m a consultant,” he explained. “When someone has a problem, they hire me to come in and take care of it.”
“Take care of it? You sound like a hit man,” she laughed. The nervous feeling that had seeped in during his brief pause was still lingering.
“Well, if someone needs knocked off, who am I to argue with the client?” The color drained out of Buffy’s cheeks, and he suddenly began to laugh. “I’m joking! What about you? Do you make a career of hanging out in cemeteries? I’d think a beautiful girl like you would be out clubbing, have a devoted boyfriend.”
“Been there,” she replied with a snort. “Didn’t turn out well.”
“So you mope around the graveyard missing you lost love?”
“It’s not that!” she snapped. Actually, she pretty much kept the moping to her bedroom. “I, um, it’s just a thing, but I’m over it…so over it. Um, why don’t we hit the Bronze or something?”
“Whatever the beautiful lady desires,” he laughed offering her his hand.
****
Dawn paced her room, her homework scattered on her bed forgotten. She couldn’t concentrate on the American Revolution while Spike was moping in his crypt thinking Buffy despised him, and her sister was Go knew where with some guy they didn’t know and didn’t care about her half as much as the chipped vampire.
There had to be a way to get them together. She was sure if she could just get them in the same place things would be better. Sure, they’d fight—they wouldn’t be Buffy and Spike if they didn’t, but eventually through all the yelling their true feelings would come out. She was sure of it—she just wasn’t sure how she was going to get Buffy to the crypt without telling her what was waiting for her there.
She cast a glance over her shoulder at the textbooks on the bed. There was no home for educational pursues until she had figured out an answer to her little problem. Grabbing her jacket from the closet, she headed for the door. She has going to need some help on this one.
****
“H…have you seen Clem?” Dawn asked the bartender. She tried to look like she belonged there, but her nervousness was bleeding through. If Buffy ever found out where she was, anything the demons in the bar could do to her would be pretty pale in comparison to the punishment she would dole out.
“This isn’t a bar for little girls,” the grimy man behind the bar growled looking up from the glass he was wiping with a rag that even a gallon of Shout wouldn’t help long enough to throw the teenager an annoyed glare.
“I am not a little girl,” she returned the glare as she folded her arms over her chest. She thought about informing him of her statues as the Slayer’s sister, and then changed her mind. She was already putting herself at risk just being there. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to make herself an even more enticing target.
“Whatever,” he replied with a shrug. “Is Clem expecting you?”
“Of course, he is,” Dawn lied quickly. “Why don’t you just tell me where he is?”
“Snippy little thing, aren’t you?” the bartender shot back gaining another dirty look from the girl. “He’s in the back>”
“Thanks,” Dawn growled making her way towards the back of the bar doing her best to ignore the glances she received as she passed the few tables set up behind the bar.
****
“It’s true,” she gasped the moment she walked into the room. A group of three demons sat at a small table in the center of the smoky room. The table was littered with cards, poker chips, and on one side was an ashtray in desperate need of emptying, and right in the center of the mess was a large basket filled with kittens. “I thought Buffy was telling me a story when she told me you played for kittens.”
“Dawn?” Clem’s face filled with panic as he looked up from his cards. “What are you doing here?”
“I needed to talk to you,” she replied pulling her eyes from the kittens.
“Do your friends always have to interrupt our games?” the green demon on the far side of the table growled tapping his long, yellow nails against his cars impatiently. “They’re bringing down the good name of this bar.”
“Like this place rates five stars in the Sunnydale guidebook,” Dawn shot back. “Clem, I really need to talk to you>”
“We’d better go outside and discuss this in private.” His ears quivered nervously as he ushered the teenager out the back door. “You really shouldn’t be here. Your sister is going to kill you, right after she kills me.”
“Only if she finds out I was here,” she told him as the heavy metal door swung shut behind them. “I needed to talk to you. I can’t help you were slumming when I found you.”
“Fine,” the demon sighed. “Let’s get on with it before you get us into anymore trouble.”
Dawn bit back her argument. It was pointless to waste time bickering about how much trouble she would be in if Buffy found out she was there. Clem was right, if Buffy found out, she was looking at a life long grounding.
“I need to talk to you about Spike.” Dawn replied.
“Dawn,” he sighed, “Spike is gone. You know he’s not coming back…”
“I know he’s already back.” Her lips curled into a smile as a look of surprise took over his features. “I ran into him at the crypt. I know he’s been hiding there.”
His shoulders slumped in defeat. “He’s been staying there, not really hiding.”
“He’s refusing to let Buffy see him. I’d say that’s hiding.”
“He’s just not ready to see her,” he explained. “It’s hard to face her.”
“But she cares about him,” she protested. “She forgave him…”
“But he hasn’t forgiven himself,” Clem continued, “with the soul, it makes it hard to…”
“Spike has a soul?” Dawn gasped.
Suddenly Clem looked extremely guilty. “He…he didn’t tell you, did he?”
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