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Author's Chapter Notes:
10/19/10: Updated Chapter Two.

Thanks to KnifeEdge for the beta-read.

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Spike stepped out onto his back porch following his morning—well, okay, afternoon—shower. He lit up a cigarette and settled down in a lawn chair to enjoy his first hit of nicotine.

"Those things'll kill you, you know," a voice said.

He looked around to see a skinny little girl, all hair and eyes and gangly limbs, straddling the redwood plank fence that separated his yard from his new neighbor's. For just a second, the similarities—the long brown hair and big blue eyes—were so striking that he might have mistaken her for ... The moment passed. "Yeah, that's what I hear," Spike said, taking a long drag and blowing a smoke ring in her direction.

The girl waved her hand delicately in front of her face as the smoke wafted past her. She scrunched up her nose, but gave him a bright smile nonetheless. "You must be Spike," she said cheerily.
"That I am. And who might you be, little bit?"

"I'm Dawn. And I'm not little. I'm fourteen."

Spike smothered a laugh. "My mistake, Dawn." He dropped his half-smoked cigarette into the neck of the empty beer bottle he used as an ashtray. "So, you my new neighbor, too, or are you just helping Bunny move in?"

Dawn laughed heartily at that. "Her name's Buffy. But if you really wanna call her Bunny, that's okay, too. It'll completely piss her off. And yeah, I'm gonna be living here."

Spike decided he liked this girl. She was just as sassy as that blonde bint, but without the bitchy attitude. He was pretty sure this little bit of a thing wasn’t going to slug him anytime soon, either. "Well, are you goin’ to introduce yourself properly, then?" He watched her with a slight grin as she bit her lip and looked over her shoulder at her house.

"Not supposed to talk to strangers," she said after a moment.

His grin widened. "Already been talking to me. 'Sides, we're neighbors. How long you think we're gonna stay strangers, living right next door to each other?"

Dawn shrugged carelessly and swung her other leg onto his side of the fence before jumping lightly to the ground. She sauntered up to his porch and took a seat on an empty chair. "Hello, I'm Dawn Summers," she said, very politely and formally. She held out a hand for him to shake.

He took it and gave it a firm shake. "Spike Williams," he said.

"Very nice to meet you," she said, maintaining her stiff and formal act. Then she smiled and flopped back in her chair, long limbs splayed out around her. "No matter what Buffy says," she added, a little venom creeping into her tone.

He snorted. "She your sister?"

Dawn nodded, her face very glum. "Yeah. Lucky me."

"Is she giving you a hard time or what?" He considered having another cigarette, but decided against it. Fresh young lungs sitting right there and all.

"She thinks she's the boss of me, is all. And she made me move here."

"Oi! 'S a nice neighborhood, I'll have you know. Plus, you get me for a neighbor. That's gotta be some kinda bonus, yeah?"

Dawn grinned at him. "Yeah, I think it is. You totally managed to get Buffy in a snit. Not that that takes much--she's kind of in ready-to-snit mode these days."

"What brings you birds to my neck of the woods, if it's such a hardship?"

Dawn's face darkened. "Um, my— our mom—" She looked away from him and swallowed hard. "You know what? I don't really wanna talk about it," she said, keeping her eyes averted.

"Oh, hey, that's okay," Spike said. He could have kicked himself; Rupert had mentioned that the girls moving in next door had lost their mum unexpectedly. He hadn’t remembered, though, not til just now. "Didn't mean to—"

"Dawnie?" a voice called from the other side of the fence. Dawn sat up very straight, and Spike turned his eyes on the blonde entering his yard. It wasn't Dawn's sister. This girl was taller, lush and curvy with a wide, generous mouth and sympathetic eyes. "Dawnie, there you are," she said when she spotted the teenager. "We've been looking for you!"

Dawn stood up. "I didn't run away or anything," she said. "I was looking around the backyard, and then I came over to meet my new neighbor. This is Spike. Spike, this is Tara."

Spike stood as well and held a hand out to the woman. "Hello, pet," he said. "Lovely to meet you." He gave her a warm smile as she shook his hand. She blushed under his gaze and pulled her hand away.

"N-nice to meet you, t-too. I hope Dawn wasn't bothering you."

Spike waved Tara's concern away. "'Course not. We were just making our acquaintances."

"Oh, good. Um, Dawn, do you want to come back to the house now? Buffy and Xander will be back soon, and we're going to order pizza."

Dawn shrugged her shoulders and sat down on the chair she had just vacated. "Not really hungry.”

Spike glanced between the two girls, taking in Dawn's sullen expression and Tara's concerned one. "Hey, Dawn," he said. "I’m busy today, and I bet you are, too. But you can come visit anytime, yeah?" He regretted his spontaneous invitation almost immediately. Just because he felt for the poor girl didn’t mean he wanted her hanging ‘round all the time. Then Dawn smiled, and it was like watching the sun rise. He found himself thinking her name suited her perfectly. She lost that haunted air and the shadows that had filled her eyes were banished. Spike couldn’t help but smile back at her. She was a sweet kid; maybe it ran in the family and the sister would turn out to be not so bad after all.

“Oh, thanks, Spike,” Dawn said, still all smiles.

Spike escorted Tara and Dawn out of his yard. A red-haired woman emerged from the house just as they crossed the driveway that separated the two properties. House is like a bleedin’ clown car, Spike thought. Only it keeps spitting out lovely women ‘stead of goons in scary make-up. He grinned. Having the Summers girls next door might actually turn out to be a good thing.

"Dawnie," the redhead called. "Where've you been?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "God, you guys, you know I'm not a baby, right? I'm not going to like, choke on my saliva or something stupid if you're not watching me all the time."

"We just worry about you, sweetie." The redhead wrapped her arms around Tara's waist. Spike ran an appreciative eye over both women as they snuggled into each other briefly. "Hi, I'm Willow," she said, catching Spike's glance.

He nodded. "Spike," he said, trying not to choke on his tongue. Lesbians! He must have died and gone to heaven. Maybe he was still tucked up in his bed. If the whipped cream—or hell, just the whips—came out next, he’d know he was dreaming.

"Duck and cover," Dawn said suddenly. She was looking down the block. "Looks like Xander let Buffy drive."

Spike furrowed his brow at that statement, then saw a black Land Rover careening down the street. It swerved wildly into the driveway. He caught his breath when it looked like it would take out the back bumper of his car. His painstakingly restored 1959 DeSoto Fireflite survived disaster by the barest inch as the Land Rover barreled toward the group standing in the yard. Spike grabbed Dawn's arm and pulled her out of the vehicle's path. The SUV screeched to a halt. The front bumper was a hairsbreadth from the corner of the house. A dark-haired, broad-shouldered man vaulted out of the passenger seat, his face pale.

"Great googily-moogily, Buffy!" he said as the blonde exited the vehicle. "Did you get your license from a Cracker Jack box?"

Buffy ignored the man—Xander, Spike assumed—and rounded the SUV to stand in front of Spike and Dawn. "Would you mind getting your hands off my baby sister?" she spat at him without actually looking in his direction.

Spike dropped Dawn's arm and held his hands up in a pacifying gesture. "Sorry, just thought she'd look better not flattened under your wheels." You maniac, he thought, but—just barely—managed not to say aloud.

Buffy's gaze was focused on her sister. "Go inside, Dawn," she said.

"You suck," Dawn said, returning Buffy's glare with interest. She turned to Spike and smiled sweetly, laying a hand on his arm. "It was very, very nice to meet you," she practically purred. "I'm sure living next door to you is going to be lots of fun." With nary a glance in her sister's direction, she pranced away into the house, switching her hips from side to side.

Once Dawn was out of sight, Buffy's eyes moved to Spike. He backed away from the fury written across her face. "Look—" He got no further than that one word before Buffy pushed past him into the house.

Tara and Willow exchanged a look that spoke volumes, while Xander stood next to the Land Rover, still looking pale and shaken. “Buffy's not usually like that,” Willow said. “She's been really, um, stressed lately.”

“Yeah,” Tara said. “She's very sweet when she's not—”

“Being a bloody unbearable wench?”

“I'd go with bitch. I think she's getting used to that.” Spike turned to look at the brunette who had just emerged from the house. The attractive-females-to-Spike ratio just kept climbing. Better and better. “She’ll have to get used to it, at least, because from the sounds of it, that's what Dawn will be calling her from now on.”

Spike shook his head. “Maybe I'll have to teach the little bit some more interesting names, yeah?”

The brunette laughed. “Oh, yes, that would be good. Give Buffy more reasons to dislike you. I'm Anya, by the way.”

“Spike.” He smiled thinly, feeling a headache coming on. “Right, well, it's been lovely meeting all of you. I can tell living next door to Buffy,” he imbued her name with as much sarcasm as he could pack in, “is going to be a right treat.” He headed for the back yard; he definitely needed a few more smokes before he could concentrate on work.


***


Buffy knocked on Dawn's bedroom door. “Do you want to come down and have some pizza with us? Xander hooked up the TV and DVD player. You can pick the movie,” she cajoled.

“Go. Away.” Dawn's voice was low and growly. Better than her super-sonic screams; she'd exhausted those fairly quickly.

Buffy pushed the door open and stepped in. “Dawnie, come on—”

Dawn sat up on her bed and threw a pillow at her sister. “Get out of my room.”

Buffy ignored the command and instead sat down next to Dawn. “I'm sorry, Dawn,” she said. She was weary; every last bit of her felt about ninety years old, and it showed in her voice. “I'm sorry we had to move to this crappy little house, okay? But you're going to the same school, and you can have your friends over to visit. This isn't the end of the world.”

“Whatever.” Dawn folded her arms across her chest and turned her face away from Buffy. “You know what? I'm thrilled that we moved here. I'm absolutely ecstatic, okay? Now get. Out. Of my. Room.”

Buffy stared at Dawn's profile for one long, silent moment. Then she stood up and without another word walked out of her sister's room. The door closed quietly behind her.





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