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The trip back to England took a good deal more effort to organise than Buffy expected. It turned out there were a number of things that had to be taken into account – largely revolving around the need for an evening flight to avoid the big pile of dust problem and Spike’s stubborn refusal to fly on a German airline.

“What’s wrong with German airlines?” Buffy asked, perplexed.

“Let’s just say I’ve got issues about being cooped up in a German cigar tube.” Spike frowned. “Bloody submarine,” he muttered.

“Submarine? There’s a submarine?” She looked at him bemusedly.

“Let’s not go there.” He gave her a sideways look. “We could always ask Ilona for a loan of the company jet.”

“We will not!” Buffy shook her head. “Not being beholden to that w… to Wolfram and Hart for anything.”

“Ah-ha.” Spike turned away with a smirk. He picked up a red t-shirt from the pile put aside on the bed for packing and held it out to Buffy. “You should wear this. Contrast nicely with the green eyes.”

“You know, I’m not averse to unnecessary violence.” She folded her arms.

“Oh, me neither.” Spike grabbed her and pulled her down onto the bed.

“We’re squashing my clothes!” Buffy wriggled.

“Take them off, then.” He slid a hand up under her t-shirt.

“I was talking about…” She gasped as his hand found her breast. “No wait! Spike! The packing…”

“Yeah?” He brushed his lips lightly over hers.

“Oh… never mind…” she sighed contentedly and pulled him closer.

******

“OK. So – where are we?” Buffy consulted her clipboard. “Gotta hand it to Andrew, he’s good with the lists.” She picked up a pen. “Tickets – check. Passports – check.” She gave a puzzled frown. “You know, I never did figure out where Spike got a passport.”

“Oh, it’s easy. Spike says you can buy anything you want if you know the right demons to talk to.” Dawn emerged from under her bed and dumped a pile of shoes next to her case. “And Spike knows everybody.”

“I’m sure he does.” Buffy raised an eyebrow and went back to her list. “Call Giles – check. Buffy packing – check.” If a little creased… she blushed at the memory. “More or less. Umm… Andrew packing – judging by the by the rustle of bubble-wrap, I guess that’s underway. Dawn packing...“

“I’m doing it! I’m doing it!“

“Last minute as ever.” She went back to her list. “Spike packing – how come he has stuff to pack all of a sudden?”

“Ilona gave him some really neat clothes. Designer stuff. Spike says she has great taste.” Dawn held up a pink dress, frowned and threw it into a garbage bag.

“Hmph.” Buffy snorted. She looked at her watch. “How long has he been gone? How long does it take to pack a few shirts… sorry designer shirts, a pair of jeans and a toothbrush?”

“Well, he has to say his goodbyes to Ilona.” Dawn said with feigned innocence. “I mean, they’re, like, real good friends.”

“Goodbyes! The hellos take long enough. What with all the huggings and the kissings and then more huggings. Still say it’s way over the top, even for an Italian.” Buffy folded Dawn’s clothes moodily. “And you should see her. All with the tight skirt and the… I’m not convinced they’re real, you know. Silicone.” She nodded, tight-lipped. “I mean, obvious or what?”

Dawn smiled to herself. Baiting Buffy was so easy. “So – are you all done?”

“Yeah, except… I’m going to need to go and see Morty.” Buffy bit her lip.

“Why?” Dawn’s voice emerged from the depths of the wardrobe.

“I left some of my stuff there.”

“You could restock in London.” Dawn emerged with armfuls of clothes, looked at her case and frowned. “You know, I think I need a bigger case.”

“Andrew took the biggest case.”

“Why? What does he have to pack?”

Buffy shrugged. “Something about his collection. All those hours he spends online? Ebay. Anyway, where did you get all that lot from? No wonder we never have any cash!” Buffy shook her head. “Which is one reason why I need to go get my stuff. Besides, it feels ookie leaving it there.”

“You want me to go?” Dawn looked hopeful.

“So you can no doubt get a lot of vindictive pleasure telling Morty about me and Spike? I don’t think so.”

“Spoilsport.” Dawn pouted.

“Nope. I need to do this. I need to finish things in a proper adult manner. Because I’m a proper adult.” She sat up straight. “Right thing to do.” She slumped. “And if things get nasty, I’ll cry.”

“Never fails.” Dawn frowned and held up a vividly patterned shirt. “D’you think I should keep this?”

“Only if you want to look like an accident in a paint factory.” Buffy winced.

“You don’t like it?” Dawn shrugged. “OK. You can have it back then.”

“It’s mine?” Buffy said in disbelief. “You stole my shirt?”

“What do you care? You just said you didn’t like it!”

Buffy gave a long-suffering sigh and stood up. “OK. I’m off. If I’m not back in an hour, call the police.” She caught Dawn’s worried look. “Joke. What’s to worry about? See you later.”

******

Spike was less than pleased when he found Buffy gone.

“She’s gone where?”

“To see Morty. Don’t frown at me! It was her idea. Besides, she’s only just gone to pick up her stuff. Back in no time. You could always go call for her.”

“I…” He considered. Given the circumstances, it was probably better he stayed away from The Immortal. “She’s not back in half-an-hour, I’ll do just that.” He sat down on the sofa, folded his arms and glared.

“Stop brooding.” Dawn busied herself sorting through drawers.

“I don’t brood.” The glare was turned on Dawn.

“Do too. Gone all Angel on me. So,” she smiled benignly, “how was Ilona?”

“Fine,” he said slowly, watching her suspiciously.

“Buffy doesn’t like Ilona.” Dawn continued rummaging in the drawers.

“You don’t say.” Spike raised an eyebrow.

“No, she thinks she dresses like a hooker.” Dawn frowned at a metallic object with no obvious use, shrugged and threw it into a box. “Is she pretty?”

“She’s…” Spike gave an exasperated sigh. “Can I refuse to answer that on the grounds it might incriminate me?”

“D’you like her?”

“Do I what?”

“You know. Do you…what’s that word you use? Oh! Fancy! Do you fancy her?”

“Do I…?” Spike frowned at her. “Where do you get off asking questions like that?”

“Well, why not? You’re, like, my brother-in-law.” Dawn grinned.

“I am not your brother-in-law.”

“Practically family. Means I’ve got the right to ask as many embarrassing questions as I like.” She sat next to him and snuggled close, resting her head on his shoulder. “So, tell me why Buffy was giggling in her room last night.”

******

Buffy opened the apartment door, smiling happily. “Well, that was easy! I thought he’d be at least a little bit upset. Guess I should be insulted really, but…” She came into the apartment, two large bags in her hands. She looked over at Dawn and Spike on the sofa and her smile froze. “Who the hell are you?” She dropped the bags, unconsciously poised for a fight.

Dawn looked up at her with a puzzled frown. “Buffy?”

“You’ve invited a vampire into our home? You do know he’s a vampire? Jeez, Dawn, I thought you’d learnt from the last fiasco. Dating vampires bad!” She glared at Spike. “You. Get off my sofa.”

“Buffy?” Dawn looked at her in shock. “Buffy this is Spike.”

“And?” Buffy frowned.

Spike stood up quickly, mind racing. What the fuck… “I’m a friend of Angel’s,” he said quickly, giving a calming hand signal to Dawn.

“And that is a recommendation how exactly?” Buffy glared at him.

Dawn was looking at Spike in bewilderment. “Spike…?”

“We met – once. But it was a while ago. You’ve probably forgotten…” His voice trailed away.

“Apparently. We met and still you’re here bothering me? Must have had an off night.” Buffy folded her arms and glared at him. “What do you want?”

Spike shook himself, brain working frantically to make some sense of what was happening. “Angel heard you were going back to England. Asked me to check in. See if I could do anything to help.” Whatever was going on here, humouring Buffy seemed the safest option.

“Still with the vampire inability to pick up the ‘phone, huh?” She gave a frustrated sigh. “Look, tell Angel – thanks, but you know, I can manage without his help. And now, much to do with the packing and the leaving.” She picked up her bags. “Especially the leaving. Dawn will see you out. Now.”

Dawn watched her leave the room then turned to Spike, her face stricken. “Spike?” Her voice trembled with tears. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, I think I do.” Spike’s voice was hard. “Dawnie, look.” He took hold of her arms. “Look at me. Right. I need you to carry on as if nothing’s unusual, OK? Pack. Go to England. Don’t try anything until you’ve spoken to Giles and Willow.”

“But… you…” Dawn’s eyes were panicked. “I can’t!”

“You can. Call Giles. Tell him what’s happened. And make sure Andrew behaves.” He smiled gently and wiped a tear from her cheek. “It’s OK, pet. We’ll sort this out. Couldn’t be anywhere better right now than with Giles and Willow. Don’t want to worry Buffy, OK? Need you to be strong for me.”

“OK,” she sniffed.

“That’s my girl.” Spike pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, swallowing hard against the sudden lump in his throat.

“What will you do?” Her voice was muffled against his chest as she clung to him fiercely. “You’ll still come to England, won’t you?”

“I’ll follow you.” He hugged her hard then let her go. “Got something I need to do first.”

The cold anger in his voice made her wince. She watched him shrug on his duster, every muscle tense, and leave. He didn’t look back. “Be careful,” she whispered, as the door closed behind him.





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