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AN: From this chapter on out Fled was Co authored with my fabulous friend Tuesday. Find out more about her at her LJ (http://www.livejournal.com/users/tuesdayallweek)



Chapter Two


Beams of light flitted down to where Buffy’s eyes were pinned to a discarded Snickers wrapper. She was stretched out across the back seat of their Honda Passport pretending to sleep though no one was fooled. Spike was driving, his fingers drumming rhythmically against the steering wheel, chords of Aerosmith’s Crazy playing softly from a local radio station. The SUV sped quickly down the highway, passing and swerving in and out of trucks causing Buffy’s stomach to clench. This was not the steady lullaby rocking of car trips spent visiting her cousin Celica. This was a frantic, erratic roller coaster ride complete with sharp turns and high speeds.

They had been too hasty, lessons Buffy felt she had learned were forgotten in the panic of trying to find Dawn. She had done this before, gotten into a car, leaving loose ends untied, and this time neither of them had even stopped home to pack a bag, or double check the windows were locked, or leave Dawn a note, just in case.

She began trying to read the ingredients on the wrapper, as lights quickly whizzed by, to distract herself from the lingering doubts about Spike’s sudden assumption. It seemed too drastic; Dawn always went a little far but to head back to Sunnydale? After all this time, the sacrifices, and when things were finally fitting together why go back? Buffy refused to let her mind wander down other avenues, she wouldn’t think of the dangers that could have befallen her little sister and with some failing self restraint kept her mind from Glory.

She felt the car slow, and raised herself up on one elbow to look out the window. “Gonna be getting light soon.” She sat up, her eyes going to the rearview mirror, out of habit she supposed, but it was only her reflection looking back at her. She nodded, pulling loose her mussed ponytail and fixing it. "I’ll try and find us a decent place to crash. Doesn’t look like they have the best selection around here.” Spike commented, as his eyes racked up and down the street dotted with sleazy motels, places he wished Buffy would never have to see, let alone stay in.

Crawling over the seat and plopping back into the passenger side Buffy rested a comforting hand on his arm. “Not exactly being picky girl here.” The intimate gestured shocked him as his head swiveled to look at her. "Just a shower and if we could keep the rats to a minimum... “She added sheepishly as she quickly removed her hand, setting her palm flat against the leg of her jeans trying not to think of his hopeful expression and the cool muscles in his arm.

Feeling like an idiot he stared straight ahead at the road, making sure his face remained carefully blank, giving no clue as to what he was thinking. Buffy's little slip was just that. Spike had bigger problems weighing on his bleached head. He was worried about Dawn, and Buffy too, for that matter. She looked pale, and hadn’t eaten anything in hours. He hadn’t been human in a long time, but he figured she must be hungry by now. "Here we are.” Spike announced pulling the vechile to a stop in the parking lot of the most decent looking hotel he could find. It was still a stink hole but it would have to do. "Not exactly the Ritz but I'll bet it will have your shower."

Buffy got out first, stretching her legs, wordlessly eyeing the hotel. The sign in front declared vacancy and she could see why. The white doors were chipped and the stucco wall, once a bright sherbet, had faded making it look distinctly run down. It wasn't the worse place she had stayed, they had stayed in much worse that first month on the run, but it still gave her a sick feeling. She had thought those days were past her and yet here she was.

"Gonna go in and get us a room. Why don't you move your legs a bit?" Spike spoke up from behind her, hands clenching uselessly to the soft leather of his duster. He knew what she was thinking about, how could she think of anything but those crappy motels in shady spots of different towns? Shame swelled within him when he thought of those first few weeks on the road, the crappy food and worse lodging, the quiet refusal of Buffy to indulge in anything when he actually had money, knowing full well it was ill gotten gains. Spike wanted to say something to her, something to help ease the sting of memories for both of them, but his tongue was thick and his mind blank. With a small sigh and a roll of his eyes at himself as he headed into the lobby, the least he could do was haggle a good price.

Buffy sighed, waiting while Spike argued with the manager over the price of the room. It all seemed so unimportant. She let her mind go blank, felt herself go numb, however momentarily. It was something she’d gotten good at over the years. She floated somewhere above herself, watching with a detached interest. Only one pesky thought refused to go. One thing that kept her from attaining that level of practiced apathy……Dawn.


*****


She sat on the bus rapidly putting miles between herself and him. How could she have been so stupid? Why did she think he would want her? He never did before. All he was to her was money in a card. A beautiful, feminine card. It was like salt in an open wound for her mother, seeing that card, knowing his “secretary” picked it out. Now she was gone, and he was still alive. Dawn hated him for that. All that hate came back, standing on his doorstep, his latest “wife” answering the door.

“Oh, we don’t want any cookies, sweetie.”

Dawn had stared in amazement at this twenty-something, barely older than Buffy.

“Jessica, who is it?”

Dawn forced a smile on her face. “Thanks, anyways.” Then she had run. Her fears catching up no matter how hard her shoes pounded the pavement. Pound, pound, pound. Was that her feet? Her heart? Her blood? Images swirled in her confused mind. Why couldn’t she save her? Dawn had warned her…but was that enough? On and on she went, heedless of where she was going. She ran until she was in front of the Greyhound bus station.

Pulling out the last of her money, she handed it to the concerned looking woman behind the counter, her hands trembling slightly.

“Honey, are you—“

“One way ticket, please.” Dawn interrupted her.

The woman frowned, unsure if she should sell a ticket to this woman/child. “Where to?”

The girl smiled, a frighteningly panicked smile, bereft of reason or rationality. “Sunnydale.”


*****


She fumbled for a second, before finally getting the key in the lock, juggling two large paper sacks. For a second she longed for and electronic card before remembering how frustrating those were too. The gears clicked into places and she tapped once, hard on the aluminum door, warning the bleach blonde vampire that lay inside the drape drawn motel room.

"Honey, I'm home." Buffy called as she quickly opened the door, stepped inside and leaned her back against it, blocking the harmful sunrays outside.
Spike, who moments before had been wearing a hole in the all ready thread bare carpet by his anxious pacing, was now stretched across the bed furthest from the door, nonchalantly flipping through TV channels. Having heard the jiggle of keys and the familiar light tread of her step, he had hurled himself across the room, attempting to feign disinterest. The mask slipped however as he watched her enter, just a split moment of sunlight catching in her golden hair, making her look for all the world like an angel. It was the briefest moment, Buffy had been quick to shut the door to prevent her companion from frying up like a slice of bacon, but Spike memorized it, tucking it away safely in his memory. Her eyes had dark circles below them and wore a weary expression but her lips curled into the tiniest wisp of a smile so faint most would not see it. Yet Spike saw it. He always saw her.

Buffy sat the bags down on the small dresser, rummaging through them found the packet of blood that had taken her more than an hour to track down and tossed to her roommate. “Oh, Honey, you baked.” Spike smirked, tearing open the plastic with his teeth.

“What can I say? O positive is my specialty.” Spike froze as soon as the words hit his ears. Despite his nose confirming what she had just said he stared in disbelief. Buffy could feel his eyes boring into her back yet refused to turn around, instead pulling out two candy bars from the bag.

“Buffy?” Spike implored. Human blood, he didn’t, they didn’t. It had been the only rule Buffy had been strict on. She kept pig’s blood, and cow’s blood nicely lined up in the fridge but if he so much as joked about biting a human, she would freeze him mercilessly. He fought to control his blood lust. Perhaps it was a test, something she had cooked up while they were driving, another hoop to jump through to prove his love. If it was, that was fine; he would jump through a million bloody hoops and go to the ends of the earth besides. He just had to know…

She shifted her weight, the candy bars being smashed as she gripped them too tightly. Slowly she lifted her face to stare straight ahead at the mirror in front of her, knowing that Spike could see her even if she wasn’t yet ready to face him. “I tried…” She began, guilt and anger, mixing with exhaustion causing her voice to shake, excuses coming quick but she swallowed them down. “It’s all I could get.”

Spike watched the emotions play over her face, self-hatred lingering on, her green eyes becoming hallow and faint. “I don’t have to…” He began, despite the gnawing need. “I can wait.” He said with a deceive tone.

Buffy turned quickly to face him, her shoulder length hair catching in the movement and bouncing against her neck. "It's not from... I can't believe you would even think that about me! Slayer, vampire nest, tons of bagged blood lying around, vampires go poof. I mean God! Like I would rip off a hospital! I can't believe you would think that I would..." She shook her head, grabbing up one of the paper bags and storming in to the bathroom.

Spike sat dumbfounded, as the door slammed shut. He wished he could tell her she was over reacting, that he knew she would never steal, let alone from a hospital. But truth was he had thought she had done exactly that, making him feel like a complete poof. He knew Buffy better than that.

For a moment he stared at the bag of blood, already opened and exposed. The local vamps must be pretty smart, Spike mused, soaking up the aroma. Probably setting up some sort of blood trade, that or else they were just a bunch of wankers that had pilfered it. Deciding it was most likely the later, Spike weighed his options. On one hand it wasn't exactly like it would be doing anyone any good. But on the other he had promised Buffy that first night as the sped down the highway heading away from Sunnydale in a stolen car that he wouldn't touch a drop of human blood, not even a lick.

A sigh born of frustration and self-loathing for clinging to a promise Buffy had obviously released him from escaped his lips. He stood and took the blood filled bag and tossed it into the waste can. A promise was a promise.


*****


The woman took the money from the girl’s shaking hands, counting it. “I’m sorry, but there isn’t enough money here to get you that far.” The lady smiled at her sympathetically.

Dawn looked at her, refusing to comprehend what she’d said. “Not enough?” She parroted, the dull shock in her voice obvious.

“Sweetie, do you need a place to stay?” The woman—Karen, her name tag said—asked her. “I don’t have any extra money, or I’d give it to you. But I can offer a warm bed for the night.”

Dawn looked at her. “How far can I get on what I’ve got?” She asked, trying to remain calm. How could she be out of money already? She had budgeted so carefully. Mentally she ticked off the money she had spent, the bus ticket to NYC had been more than she had expected but she should have been fine. There was lunch, a cheap salad at a fast food joint, and she had stocked up on junk food for the trip, but surely she there should have been enough to make it to Sunnydale... Then it hit her like a brick, the extra supplies for the locator spell.

One of the few things Dawn had packed that fateful night she and Buffy left Sunnydale had been the spell book Willow had left at the house. The first try to locate her father had ended up with yellow smoke and nothing more, but after purchasing some more supplies and trying again she had managed it. She suddenly felt very stupid, all that work, all of that money, spent on a man who could care less about her. Karen looked at her and Dawn added quickly. "Anywhere out West? Close to California so my fiancée won't have to drive so far..." The lie was quick and cool even if the clerk didn't buy a moment of it.

Karen looked disappointed. “Let me see.” She typed something into the computer. “Nevada. Maybe as far as Las Vegas.”

“I’ll take it.” Dawn said. She let her mind drift as Karen put her information into the computer, forged of course. She looked at her trembling body. Why was she still shaking? Was it from running…or something else? Suddenly she knew without a doubt she was working with a limited time schedule. She didn’t know how she knew, she just did. The pounding in her blood was getting louder, echoing through her ears, calling her back to Sunnydale. It drowned everything else out, making it hard to hear what Karen was saying to her.

“You’re all set. You have to switch buses once and there is a fueling stop but you should be there by tomorrow evening.” She smiled at the girl, hoping she’d be all right.

“Thanks.” Dawn said, mustering up a ghost of a smile.

Climbing on the bus, she tiredly chose a seat in the back, hoping no one would bother her. Closing her eyes, she slipped quietly off to sleep. I hope I make it in time, was her last conscious thought.





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