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Author's Chapter Notes:
many thanks to cordy kitten, Calli and squawks as always for the review.
please do review, they really make me type faster
Dawn was a sad child, huge brown eyes that showed they’d seen far too much of an adult’s pain: she had seen her parents murdered in a mugging, and had been hurt herself. Although her case was serious, and terrible for the child, it was relatively simple to deal with, standard almost. She needed time and space to grieve. It always amazed Buffy that adults tried to protect children from grief. They hid their own pain and expected a child to do the same. Dawn needed time to talk about what she’d seen, time to remember her parents, and to be angry with them for leaving her, all normal reactions to the tragedy that had happened.

Dawn was luckier than most. She was living with her much older brother, Doyle, in a lovely little house on Revello Drive. A brother who loved her and was willing to do anything to help his little angel. Francis Allen Doyle was the child of their father’s first marriage, Dawn being the child of his second. Doyle, as he was known, was a gentle loving man who worked as a vet in Sunnydale. His gentleness with animals was complimented by his gentleness with his distraught sister. He didn’t expect her to ‘get over it’, he didn’t remind her when she was crying that his father had died too. He just got her the best help he could.

Doyle had to admit that he hadn’t expected the help to appear in the guise of a stunning little blond with amazing green eyes. And she had completely stunned him when he first saw her, thinking that she’d been the assistant to Miss Summers; he’d made a couple of mistakes but they soon learned to get along. McDonalds being a good place to start any friendship. Dawn wanted a Happy Meal, and Doyle watched in amazement as Buffy put away a Big Mac, Fries and a huge drink. She had a good appetite. Dawn seemed to like her. Buffy didn’t push Dawn, didn’t question her, didn’t insist that Dawn talk, she was just ‘there’ supporting, loving, caring, understanding.

Buffy would collect Dawn on Tuesdays and Thursdays from her after-school club, and they would do things. Swim, go for walks, draw, anything to get through the wall the heartbroken child had created to protect herself. They drew pictures: Buffy was good at drawing and soon learned that that was the route in to allowing the little girl to express her grief, dark pictures full of demons, blood and the horrors that she’d seen, but Buffy worked her magic, slowly gaining the little girl’s trust. It only took two months before Dawn allowed her into her special space, a den made under the bed where she felt safe. And Buffy was content.

William rehearsed for his new film. He’d been offered the part of a psychiatrist trying to help abused kids, against a system that didn’t care. It was a supporting role, but it felt good. It was only a two week shoot, but he could slip it into the down time in NEMO. His career was taking off big style. The Powers in the studio had asked him to sing on some telethon, and he’d agreed. Wherever you looked there were publicity shots of Spike Atherton.

And when he was in the Garden he rehearsed like mad for the upcoming concert. It had to be perfect. His guide, Angel, had told him it was special and he felt that he’d let enough people down. He wasn’t letting these kids down as well. He made up for his stupidity wherever and whenever he could.

Home life was interesting. Anya was blooming, she was still demanding anything and everything, his lawyer had annoyed both Anya and William by asking for proof that the baby was his, the final contracts would become final after the baby was born and a DNA test was performed. But Spike paid for everything that was needed: Doctors appointments, new clothes, even food that she had cravings for. Help in the house was employed to keep Anya’s time as easy as possible. Things were acceptable, they would not be easy until every thing was settled, but at least they could be civilised about things now.

‘Good evening Buffy,’ Nikki said as she slipped quietly into the hall to watch Spike rehearse.

‘Hi Nikki, how are you doing?’

‘I’m fine, looking forward to the gig: you coming?’
‘I don’t think so,’ answered Buffy, ‘I don’t think he’ll want me here.’

Nikki gave her that look, the one that says you’re being a dope. ‘Don’t you think he’s suffered enough then?’

‘I didn’t want him to suffer, I don’t want him to suffer, I just think…’

‘No you don’t Buffy, you don’t do think, you want to hide. You take the hardest cases, the toughest jobs and you’re good; but think? No, you don’t do that. If you come and he sees you, you know you’ll get back together and then, shock horror, you’ll have to ‘let him in’, actually let a man into your heart. Now that is something to run from.’

‘You think I’ve been running?’

‘Girl, I know you’ve been running for about fifty lives; well, no more. I don’t do this often, but I’m pulling rank. You will not, under any circumstances, avoid this evening that has been planned. You will dress up and look your best and you will come and enjoy yourself; have I made myself clear?’

‘Yes mother…’

‘And don’t mother me, I haven’t been your mother in over a thousand years, I couldn’t take the strain!’ Nikki looked at Buffy. ‘You are one of the strongest women I know, just trust me on this.’

‘I will Nikki, I will, if it’s really that important.’

‘Oh it is, girl, it is,’ and they both sat back to enjoy the music.

Buffy didn’t wait long before she made her way to her own place and started to get ready. She had whatever clothes she could imagine, but still couldn’t find anything to wear. A knock on the door disturbed her as she dug down to the back of her wardrobe: if any one could see her they would have laughed. She was on her knees, in front of a massive old-fashioned wardrobe, trying to see if there were any other tops hidden on the floor. She was grateful for the interruption as she headed downstairs to see who was at the door.

She opened it to find Ellepant holding a bag in his trunk. He handed it (trunked it?) over to Buffy and caressed her cheek before turning and leaving, trumpeting as he went.

Buffy looked into the bag to see a simple halter neck top, held together at the back with gold chains and tight black leather pants.

Trying them on they fitted perfectly. She did her eyes up with the smoky effect she knew suited her best, and searched for her pale pink lip gloss. Even if she did say so herself, she looked hot. High heeled boots finished the look and she grabbed a black leather jacket to go over her shoulders. Before she knew it the bus was outside tooting, and she and a gaggle of teenagers were off for a night out.

The music was already pumping out of the doors when they arrived: the place was heaving and you could hardly hear yourself think. Buffy gave the group the last orders: don’t do anything stupid, don’t get drunk, and don’t go off somewhere without letting Giles know, speech before being carried on the tidal wave of teenagers into the club.

Giles opened up a good book and settled down for the evening. He didn’t normally do the driving on evenings like this but he wanted to be close to the action in case he was needed.

Buffy looked around her, she could hardly see anyone for the crowd. Whoever was due to play that night was definitely popular, she thought to herself, as she made her way to the bar.

Asking for a beer, and knowing she had to make it last, Buffy and booze being ‘unmixy’ at the best of times, she looked around for somewhere to sit. She wanted to be near the front so her charges could find her if they needed anything. Buffy wished again she was six foot one instead of five foot two, how was anyone supposed to see anything in here! Finally, losing it slightly, she climbed onto a table to get a good look around.

Spying Nikki, she made her way over to where the very brunette was sitting. Nikki had saved a table near the front and a drink was already waiting for her. Buffy looked at the beer on the table and the other in her hand. That would really be the limit for tonight, she thought as she sat down by one of her oldest friends.

‘You look good, girl,’ said Nikki. ‘Glad the clothes fitted.’

‘So you sent them? Why am I all dressed up?’

‘You’ll see,’ came the enigmatic reply.

Buffy was really enjoying herself. She knew that she was supposed to be on support duty that night, but it wasn’t often she really let her hair down. Nikki and Buffy were up and dancing, shimmying in such a way that they would be arrested for indecent something or other, but here, in the garden, they had nothing to fear. No man would take advantage, if they tried Buffy and Nikki could just vanish from their embrace and report the miscreants to the watchers. But that was a rarity. So Buffy and Nikki lived for the moment surrounded by their friends and taken by the music.

The concert had been going on for over an hour when Spike and the rest of the band took to the stage. Buffy had been taking a fresh air break, and had just made her way back in when she saw Spike on stage, just a few feet from where Nikki was sitting. She felt like she wanted to run, but she couldn’t and she knew it. She was the responsible adult and had to stay. She made her way back to the table where Nikki was waiting for her.

‘I’ll so get you for this,’ she hissed. Nikki just grinned and sat back into her chair to enjoy the show.


Spike looked around. Here he was, William ‘Spike’ Atherton, star of TV and film, about to throw up from nerves. Jimmi looked over at him and grinned.

‘It’ll be fine: just relax and sing like you meant it.’

Spike started to play, the guitar sang with all his pain and longing.

‘I wrote this for a very special lady. I hoe you like it’ he said

‘When this life turns and hurts
She’s there, My Angel

When this life turns and bites
She’s there, my Angel

When I fall, she picks me up.
Living in my dreams is heaven with the girl
She shines like the sun, gold in my eyes
She lightens my world
And I hurt her,

Shouldn’t hurt the girl
Should care for the girl

I would be on my knees
Begging the girl if I thought it would help
Would take blows from the girl
If it meant she touched me
Would take harsh words from the girl
If it meant she spoke to me
Would take hatred from the girl
If it meant she felt for me
Would take scorn from the girl
If it meant she’d see me

Shouldn’t hurt the girl
Should care for the girl

Would beg the girl
If I thought she heard me
I am beneath her and I should have
Loved the girl but I hurt her the girl
I deserve no forgiveness
I deserve no light
I hurt the girl
I should walk in the night
But I’m begging the girl to see me, begging the girl to hear me, begging the girl to forgive me

Shouldn’t hurt the girl
Should care for the girl, just want to love the girl’


He looked straight at Buffy. ‘Just want to love the girl,’ he repeated.
Buffy looked into the azure eyes staring at her, they were so filled with longing and need that she couldn’t keep her shields up any longer.

‘I love you,’ mouthed Spike.

‘I love you too,’ she mouthed back and then found herself swept into his arms and soundly kissed. Amidst the cheers and catcalls, all she could see was Spike, and he was kissing her, she wasn’t sure how he’d managed to move so quickly but she was so very glad that he could.

‘You don’t hate me?’ she whispered.
Spike’s heart broke. All this time, she thought he’d hated her, and all this time he’d believed she wouldn’t forgive him. How stupid could the pair of them be? What fools they had been, what a fool had he been?

‘Never going to hurt you again,’ he whispered in her ear, as he picked her up and carried her out of the hall.

Waiting outside was his beloved bike. He threw Buffy onto the back, climbed on and started the beast up. Buffy wrapped her arms around his waist and lay her head on his shoulder and they were off into the night.





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