Author's Chapter Notes:
And we're off.
“I need a favour,” Dawn said as soon as Janice answered her cellphone.
“The word you’re looking for is hello,” her friend replied. “And please.”

Dawn took a breath.
Easy. You need Janice to make this work.
“I’m going to give you…..”

Three, six, nine thousand….

She paused to count the money she had withdrawn from the ATM using one of the many, many cards she was allowed. For her 17th birthday, Spike and Buffy had given her a seemingly bottomless account and a few cash cards. No questions asked. Buffy had seemed a little leery, but as always Spike had smoothed things over. All they had asked is that Dawn not go absolutely crazy. They had agreed that until she turned 18, Buffy would approve all major expenses. Theoretically. But Dawn knew that Buffy really didn’t have the time or the energy to devote herself to this. So she agreed to everything. The thought made her smile though. Using her stepdad’s cash to throw her stepmom off the trail. Somehow, it made things even hotter.

“Two thousand dollars,” Dawn finished.
She could hear Janice gasp on the other end.
“I’m totally hot for you right now,” Janice joked.
“Shut up,” Dawn said, smiling. “Prosti-tot.”

“What’s the catch?” Janice asked, examining her nails.
“We’re spending the weekend together,” Dawn said, making sure the door was locked.
“Driving down to parts unkown.”
“Awesome,” Janice shrieked, which made the tiny blonde wince.
“But I’m not going with you,” Dawn clarified said.

Janice frowned. “Say what?”
“Tomorrow you bring your car. Pick me up. Drop me off at the airport. I hand you the money. We both switch our cellphones off. All weekend.”
“Okay,” Janice said, puzzled.
“Monday morning, you pick me up at the airport. Drop me home.”

“But where will I go?” Janice whined.
“Wherever,” Dawn said. “Just….stay out of the L.A.”
“Dawn,” Janice frowned. “What’s going on babe?”

“It’s happening,” Dawn said. “With…him.”
Silence.
Dawn swallowed. Janice was her best friend and kind of a wild person, but perhaps this was too much, even for her.

“For real?” Janice asked, her voice hushed.
“Pretty much,” Dawn said.
“Dawn, I have to ask” Janice said.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Of course,” Dawn said.
“He’s not……forcing you or anything. Is he?”
“Of course not,” Dawn laughed.

She could hear Janice sigh with relief on the other end.
“This is messed up, isn’t it?” Dawn asked.
“Well yeah,” Janice said. “But he’s not your real dad.”

“You would huh?” Dawn asked, her tongue lolling against her cheek.
“I still might,” Janice teased. “Send him over after you’re done. I’ll show him what a real woman is like.”
“Shut up!!!!!!!!!” Dawn exclaimed.
“Whore.”

“Ooooh,” Janice said. “Didn’t think you were the jealous type.”
“I’m not,” Dawn protested.
“Good,” Janice said. “Because you know….Spike is married.”
“I noticed,” Dawn said dryly.

“To your stepmom,” Janice added.
Dawn rolled her eyes.
As ever, Janice was quick on the uptake.
“Yeah,” Dawn muttered. “My trampy, gold digging stepmom.”

Perhaps telling Janice of Buffy’s ‘past’ hadn’t been a good idea. At the time, she was trying for sympathy, but now she wasn’t sure it was too wise. Dawn guessed she’d been too amped at the time. Hell, even a year later, she’d found it hard to believe. Buffy Summers Pratt, the socialite. Buffy Summers, she of many charities and causes. Buffy Summers, the stripper.

“She is smoking hot though,” Janice said, making Dawn frown.
“In a purely objective way. I’d totally hit that. If I were lesbonically inclined.”

Dawn smirked. “Lesbonically?”
“It’s a word,” Janice said defensively.

The girls paused, collecting their breaths.

“What else can you offer me?” Janice said.
“I’m offering you two grand,” Dawn exclaimed. “Tax free I might add. Don’t make me call the IRS on your skinny ass.”
“Whatever, mafia princess,” Janice giggled. “Just don’t have me whacked.”

Dawn laughed. “No one ever says whacked.”
“So you’re saying Tony Soprano is a lair? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Are you going to do it or not?” Dawn said, sounding extremely put upon.
“Of course I’ll do it,” Janice chuckled. “I want details.”
“Done and done.”
“All the details?” Janice asked.
“As many as you want,” Dawn lied, crossing her fingers.

“Are your fingers crossed?” Janice said. Dawn could hear the mistrust in her voice.
“No,” Dawn said, feigning outrage. “Now will you help?”
“Yeah,” Janice mumbled. “But I don’t want your money okay.”

“Hey,” Dawn said. “I wasn’t trying to…”
“I know,” Janice said. “I know you weren’t. It just…..”
“It’s only for expenses,” Dawn butted in. “Gas. Food. A nice, safe place to stay.”
“I guess,” Janice said.

Silence.

“You’ll be safe right?” Janice asked. “Promise me?”
Dawn laughed. “I promise.”

My daddy will take good care of me.

“Can I bring Steve along for the weekend?” Janice asked.
“Steve?” Dawn said, feigning outrage. “Steve Holt? The dumb jock?”

When did this start?

“He’s not dumb!!!!!!” Janice exclaimed. “He’s sweet. And sensitive. And sex-ay.”
“He thinks Iraq is what we put a bra on,” Dawn said wryly.

The girls laughed uproariously.
“I gotta go pack,” Dawn said, wiping her eyes.
“Cya tomorrow?”
“Okay,” Janice said.

Thursday evening…..

The Falcoln 900EX rested in its private hangar at the L.A airport. The sole occupant lay well back in his leather chair, stroking a still uncut cigar. He knew it was a disgusting habit, but one he couldn’t give up. He hadn’t smoked it today though. And he wouldn’t smoke it all weekend. This was for Monday morning. After.

One of my many disgusting habits, he reflected.
What bloody beasts we men are. Men and women both.

He looked around. Comfortable seats, a nice plush carpet, and a nice kitchen. Even a conference table Spike was impressed. Wesley comes through yet again. And on such short notice too. The pilots had strict orders never to leave their cockpits. There was no hostess, no one to offer him food or drink, but Spike didn’t care. It was a short trip, and he could wait. His men had been told to fly commercial and meet him at his destination. They had obeyed accordingly.

He glanced at his watch. He had ‘arranged’ everything. All she had to do was show up at the airport, and he’d take care of the rest. Not for the first time, Spike wondered if he had lost his damn mind. He knew that he was crossing a line that ought not to be crossed. He knew if Buffy ever find out, he’d be a dead man. Literally. She’d kill him. But somehow, he didn’t care.

She’ll never find out, Spike thought. Mostly because she’ll never look.

“One weekend,” Spike muttered, deciding to pour himself a drink. “That’s all I need. Shag her silly. Get it outta your system. Life goes on.”

Spike knew at some level, he was deceiving himself. But he wasn’t ready to admit it. Not just yet. Part of him almost hoped Dawn wouldn’t show. It would be so much simpler that way. Taking no for an answer had never been Spike’s problem. As always, the problem was saying no.

He paused when he heard the clink of high heels. And then, there she was, standing in front of him. Black skirt. Brown top. A killer leather jacket. High heels. A wicked smile.

“Daddy,” Dawn squealed, coming forward to sit on the handle of his chair.
Spike frowned until Dawn whispered into his ear.
“Play along for the doofus.”

Only then Spike then saw the airport manager, smiling nervously
“Miss me sweetheart?” Spike asked, stroking her back.
“Of course I did,” Dawn said, trying not to shiver, beaming at the stranger.
“I missed you too kitten,” Spike said, resisting the urge to cop a feel.

“Thanks for everything Charles,” Spike said, looking squarely at him.
Leave you sod.
“You’re welcome Mr Pratt,” the droopy faced airport manager said nervously.

“Everything in order then?” Spike said.
“Absolutely,” Charles wheezed. “No problem at all.”
“Good,” Spike said.

Get the fuck out you twit, Spike thought, his eyes flashing.
Charles finally got the message.
“If you’ll……..excuse me…..I have….”
And then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

Spike and Dawn just looked at each other.
“Nice outfit,” Spike said coolly. “Love the coat. Have one just like that somewhere.”

“So,” Dawn said, plonking down in his lap, making him exhale.
“Where to?”
“Now that,” Spike whispered, cupping her chin to make her look at him, “Is a surprise.”
“Is that right?” Dawn said, smiling at how cute she found him right now.

“Oh I’m full of surprises kitten,” Spike purred, pulling her face to his.
“Yeah?” he asked, staring at her.
Last chance.
“Yes,” Dawn whispered heatedly, staring into his eyes.

Spike wasn’t foolish enough to ask again. Once was enough for him. So he let himself taste her. He kissed those glossy pink lips.
Once. Twice. Thrice. Three feather light kisses, pulling back each time she tried to draw him in, followed by a moment to contemplate the taste of her.

So sweet, he sighed. So fresh. So like Ripe cherries, he thought, ready for plucking.
This time, he kissed her languidly, but insistently, his hands finding her thighs and then her arse.

Tushie, Spike thought, resisting the urge to smack her luscious bottom. Soon, he promised himself. Soon. She distracted him by opening her mouth for him and he took the offering with glee.
His tongue found hers, licking and swirling repeatedly.

“Attention,” the loud speakers crackled. “We’ve been cleared for take off.”
Dawn pushed his face away from hers as the plane began moving.
“Where are we going?” she asked, gasping for breath.
Spike chuckled.
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“Nope,” Dawn said, inhaling deeply, when his hand crawled under her shirt.
“Me neither,” Spike said, grinning wickedly, when he found no bra. Suddenly her hand found his, stopping his.

“Where. Are. We. Going?” she said, challenging him.
Spike’s free hand found the lever of his chair, pulling on it so that his backrest completely collapsed. Instantly, he turned them around, setting them down on the now comfortable bed.
“To hell,” he said, squeezing her breasts, making her gasp.
“But it’s worth it.”

The gleam in her eyes told him she thought it was worth it too.


Chapter End Notes:
Comments please. The good. The bad. Well, not the bad. Okay the bad too. But keep in mind that i'm a struggling writer and my ego is fragile. Be gentle. That's all I ask. That and money. Loads and loads of money. So i can buy a boat. Send your credit card details to......
And yes, for those of you who noticed, Steve Holt. Like the dumb jock from arrested development. Not actually steve holt, i just like the name. Steve holt!!!!!!!!!!



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