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Author's Chapter Notes:
looks like I'm late again...I really don't know what's wrong with me...sorry

Also, Tuesday's update might happen Wednesday because I'm out of town and I don't know if I'll be back Monday late or sometime on Tuesday--so, if there's no update Tuesday, it'll be up Wednesday :)
Chapter Seven

“Dawn, sweetie? Would you get the door?”

“I can do it, mom,” Buffy tried to say, but her mother stopped her.

“Dawn’s got it; you just come in here and let me know how much stew you’d like.”

Buffy hated that everyone was trying to get her to do as little as possible; but what she hated even more was that she didn’t think she was capable of doing any more. She was supposed to be the girl who could do it all and suddenly she could do next to nothing.

“Okay, mom.”

Dawn wondered if her mother didn’t want Buffy to get the door because of the energy it would take out of her or if there was some other reason—like maybe who it was. But that was silly, right? Only the Scoobies ever came to dinner, so….silly…right?

Quickening her pace, Dawn hurried to open the door as whoever it was knocked a second time.

“Spike?” Dawn’s eyes widened and she stepped outside, closing the door behind her, before Buffy or their mother could notice. “What are you doing here? You have to go—Mom has someone…You?”

“Yeah, niblet, I wasn’t exactly expecting it either, but your mum invited me over for dinner.”

“Why?” Dawn asked before she could realize she was being rude. “I mean it’s not that I don’t love that you’re here, but…Buffy.”

“I don’t think she’ll be too keen on it either, but your mum can be right scary when she works at it. Seems she figures I can figure out what’s wrong with the Slayer…or something, didn’t give me much chance for questions.”

“So you’re really here for dinner?”

“Seems like,” Spike smile at the young teen; it was nice having someone be happy to see him.

“Cool!” Dawn went back inside and was halfway to the kitchen to tell her mother Spike was here before she realized he was still standing in the doorway. “Spike?” she questioned quietly.

“I…forgot,” he said morosely.

“What are you talking about, come—“

“No!” his vehemence surprised Dawn and caused her pause.

“What? We need to go tell Mom you’re here and that doesn’t exactly work with you outside.”

“Big sis doesn’t want me inside,” he answered her gently. “She’s the one that made that decision, think it should be her decision when I come back in. Give my regrets to your mum?” he asked after a moment and started to head back down the front steps.

“Hey! Wait right there, mister! No leaving till I say so. I’m not going to get in trouble because you left. Just…wait.” Dawn quickly scurried off to the kitchen.


“Did you get the door?” Joyce asked when she saw that Dawn had com into the kitchen, alone.

“Yeah,” Dawn said slowly, avoiding telling any more just yet—she wasn’t sure exactly what she was supposed to say.

“Then where is he?”

“Outside,” Dawn answered. “He can’t come inside,” she added.

“What are you—“ Joyce started to ask, but the nervous glance Dawn shot towards her sister answered the question for her. “Go invite him in then.”

“What’s with all the pronoun-y-ness?” Buffy didn’t like having no idea what they were talking about. Nor did she like the fact that Dawn ignored her question and instead responded to what Joyce had said.

“I…he doesn’t want me to.”

“Who are you talking about?!” Buffy hated feeling left out and being inside all of the time like she had been lately was shortening her temper.

“Spike,” both her mother and sister answered at the same time.

“What about…He’s here?” At her mother’s nod, Buffy froze. “Why is he here?” It wasn’t said very nicely at all

“I invited him over to dinner, Buffy,” Joyce explained.

“Why would you—You know what, never mind. If you invited him over then why is the fang boy still outside?”

“You did the disinvite,” Dawn reminded her sister as calmly as she could.

“I know that! But apparently our mother doesn’t care about that; so why hasn’t she re-invited him?”

“Buffy—“

“Come on, if you can invite him over, surely you can invite him back in. I mean who cares what I say or the fact that we all…You agreed with me that he could be dangerous and that this was the right thing to do….What’d he say?” she asked suspiciously.

“He didn’t say anything, Buffy. I asked him over for a reason of my own—“

“That you’re not going to share?”

“That I’m not going to share,” Joyce confirmed. “I’d expected that Dawn would have invited him in already.”

“So you weren’t even going to ask—Of course you weren’t going to ask me; what am I saying? No one cares what invalid Buffy thinks.”

“Uh…Spike does,” Dawn was trying to avoid her sister’s anger by sounding as non-threatening as possible. “Not that you are an invalid or anything!” she rushed to add.

“What do you mean Spike does?”

“He says you’re the only one who can—he says if you were the one to kick him out, he didn’t say it like that but it’s the same idea, that you’re the only one who should be allowed to invite him back in.”

Buffy started to laugh at the thought that Spike would turn down any opportunity to get back into her house until she saw that her sister was deadly serious. “He really said that?”

“Yeah, he’s uhm…He was going to go home but I told him I didn’t want to get in trouble with Mom so he should be waiting at the door.”

“Goody,” Buffy picked a stake up off of the counter and headed out of the kitchen, silencing her sister’s protest with a dark look and an order to stay in the kitchen.



“I’d figured as much” said as soon as he sensed the Slayer standing in the doorway, sensing her anger as well.

“You figured what as much?” Buffy knew she’d garbled the question but she was too damn tired to care. At the moment all she wanted to do was join Spike in sitting on the front steps….they looked very inviting at the moment.

“That you’d hate Joyce’s idea.”

“And what i—Would you stand up already? Talking to you back like this is just weird.”

Dutifully Spike stood up and made his way back up the steps to stand in front of Buffy. “Wasn’t expecting the stake though,” he remarked almost casually.

“What idea of my mom’s?”

Spike realized Joyce hadn’t told her daughter why she’d asked him over so he decided to fib a little. “This diner idea obviously.”

“Yeah, well…she always did like you more.”

“Suppose she did,” Spike hated the truth of that statement. “I’ll go on home though. Guess I just forgot for a few minutes there about the,” Spike pushed his hand forward and his face crumbled as, like he’d known would happen, the invisible barrier erected by the disinvite stopped him. “Sorry about that, pet.”

Buffy had ignored the way he’d looked the night he’d first learned that she’d shut him out, her anger making it so she didn’t care, but there it was again—the same damn look. And this time it was harder to ignore.

“Spike, wait,” Buffy called to him when he was already half way down the sidewalk.

Spike stopped and turned around but didn’t make to move back towards the Summers home.

“This doesn’t mean that I’m all forgive-o girl or anything but if it’s what mom wants and she thinks it’s safe, then…”

Spike was back on the steps in a matter of seconds. “I wouldn’t ever hurt you, Buffy.”

“Yeah cos that’s why you were so ready to have Drusilla bite me,” she scoffed.

“Never intended for her too…just wanted you to think I did.”

“Still not a good ‘look I’m trustworthy’ thing.”

“I know.” Spike could see how tired just the conversation was making Buffy so he chose, for once, not to argue with her.

“Come on then; Mom’ll be mad if dinner’s cold.” He was still just standing there looking at her. “Come in, Spike,” she said softly.


TBC.........thank you for all the reviews :)





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