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ATTENTION! I was reviewing the last chapter ("What Matters") and realized there was a middle part missing, right after the first "***" and before the sentence "They fell asleep." and I am so annoyed at myself for missing it. I added the missing part back in. It is not a long portion but it is rather important for the flow of the chapter, so I'd recommend reading that part again. I apologize for my mistake!
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The air in her lungs must have depleted. No, it wasn't there at all. She lost it as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and the room disappeared; she became aware of nothing but the man in front of her.

He had lodged a knot in her throat, and damaged her heart many times over the years, and now it seemed he'd gained the ability to steal oxygen from her body, as well.

"Buffy," he drawled. "It is so good to see you."

And just like that, the burning started behind her eyes. The telltale, physical sign of tears. She refused to cry in front of him, for him, ever again. This was not happening, and still, Buffy asked, "What are you doing here?"

That gravelly sound couldn't be her voice, could it?

Hank Summers, absentee father to her and Dawn, ex-husband of her mother, smiled warmly, kindly, and Buffy wanted to gag. "Does a father need an excuse to visit-"

"You are not a father." Buffy couldn't help saying it; it was a reaction.

He looked hurt, and she felt a small pang at the bottom of her heart, despite every impulse she had to hit the man. She removed her white knuckled grip on the doorknob and crossed her arms. "What are you doing here?" she repeated.

"Like I said, I wanted to see you."

"You saw. Now leave," Buffy snarled. She'd long since refused to give her father a second chance when he never came to her mother's funeral. She had imagined him returning to Sunnydale one day, repentant and maybe even crying, begging to be let back into her and Dawn's lives. Buffy had also realized that those fantasies were just that, fantasies. Hank had left and refused to return, and she wasn't going to beg him or cry for him any longer. She'd grown up just fine without a father.

However, he had returned. He was here, looking distinguished and smart in a dark suit with no tie, and clean, polished shoes. His smile was white and though his hair looked a little thinner, the man was healthy and... determined. She wanted to slam the door in his face.

Instead, Buffy stood there, silent and coldly glaring, her heart stubbornly beating at a jackhammer rate. Hank sighed, looked down at his expensively clothed feet, and said, "Buffy... I know I haven't been around for you... for Dawn. I know I've made mistakes. I'd like to try and fix them."

"Fix? Fix?!" Her eyes blazed and she found herself moving forward before a second idea could overcome the urge to shove him back. Her arms moved him about two feet away, and then she was stepping over the threshold with stubborn tears leaking from her hardened green eyes. "You cannot fix abandonment, Hank! You can't fix years of missing somebody who never should have left."

His eyes softened, and the pity in them made her cringe. "Oh Buffy... You've just always been so stupid."

More like something she would have heard in a nightmare coming from her father's mouth, even now, those words made her pause. "What?"

He shook his head and chuckled, sounding almost pleased.

Then he grabbed her. He seized her arms, harsh pain slicing into her muscles as he swung her around and into a shadowy area on the front porch. "So very stupid. And needy, and weepy. I didn't want you, or your sister, or that awful woman you called a mother. And I hardly want anything to do with you now."

The verbal hits didn't have time to connect or harm. She hated him, purely, undiluted, for one whole second, before the shift in his eyes made fear shiver through every bone in her body.

Darla was unique looking, if not frightening; wicked. Spike had a beauty about his fangs, even if they were outlined by viciousness. Hank Summers had bright, angry incisors, short and awful. The dim light of the moon highlighted his ugly face, and her scream echoed all around the quiet front yard.

Until Darla's somewhat familiar growl tore through the air, just as Buffy's knee connected violently with Hank's groin, and he let out a howl of pain. Then, he was thrown from the front porch, and hit the sidewalk with an angry thud.

Darla yelled, "Get inside!" and tried to grasp Buffy's arm to haul her through the front door, but Buffy was faster, already back in the house before Darla could even blink.

She was the one to grab the she-vamp and drag her back into the front hall. Darla growled, staring at the man standing up from the sidewalk.

Buffy's jaw was clenched so hard it hurt, and adrenaline raced through her veins, making her want to charge into the man she'd once thought of as her dad. Now, he was dead.

The look he gave her from the front yard could only be described as pure evil hatred, and it was directed at her.

"What do you want me to do, Buffy?" Darla murmured in a deadly tone, just as Hank started to turn and sprint away. There was no doubt that he, most likely, wouldn't stay gone for long.

"Nothing. Let him go," Buffy said, and held onto her friend's arm while her own muscles refused to relax. *And pray that he won't come back.*

***

Spike stomped down the damp pavement, moving along the dimly lit street to Buffy's house. He couldn't stop thinking about what he'd done, and it was eating at him, strangling his insides in an uncomfortable vise, making him shudder.

He'd saved a girl. A pretty young woman who'd been caught off guard, and brought behind a gas station by a hungry vampire posing as a homeless person.

That vampire was now dust.

Spike groaned. The stupid chit, falling for that lame hobo routine. Many vamps pulled it, and many worse examples of the human species, too. Spike had never done it himself, of course, always preferring to lure women in other ways to their... death.

He shook his head again. He didn't like that feeling, the one that came with remembering his killing days. They hadn't ended so long ago, and he recalled the taste of fresh human blood in his mouth, running down his throat like sweet, rich wine... But with the memories came the idea of Buffy's face if she'd seen, and what she would think and feel if he ever did it again.

The claim urged him to protect her from any and all discomfort, harm, and stress. However, his demon- despite the connection to a human -wanted blood. Spike didn't care. He'd told Buffy the truth when he explained that the claim would not allow him to hurt people anymore, because it would hurt her. However, he could try to get her to adjust (though he didn't believe he'd succeed), and hell, there were even ways of feeding and then releasing his hunts, but he didn't... He didn't want Buffy looking at him with disappointment.

He didn't want Buffy disgusted at the idea of touching him. The past deaths and blood and violence and torture made him unworthy of even her glances, but he was hers and she was his. Spike knew she hated what he'd done, and didn't like to think about it, but she asked and he told and she was still here.

He knew that without their connection she might not let him kiss her and hold her at night. If the claim didn't exist and she'd seen the things he'd done to people, then being with Buffy would be nothing but a pipedream.

However, she was intelligent, kind and loving and fair. The woman had once said she knew he was a monster, but she also knew that he was a predator. There was a difference, and he had no reason to be something different then what he was. Buffy believed that him having no conscience was as common as a tail on a cat or the arrangement of a zebra's stripes; simply a characteristic of the animal.

She was surprisingly unbiased, even though human. She was the prey. A rabbit for a wild dog.

Just like the girl he'd saved tonight.

His demon howled inside. Bloody hell, why had he saved a random stranger? Why had he bothered? Or cared?

*Because Buffy would be disgusted to know you had walked away.*

He sure as fuck didn't plan on telling her about the rescue. That was a secret he'd be keeping. He was still the Big Bad, after all. He couldn't make Buffy expect good deeds from him now.

Of course, Spike couldn't say he'd change what he'd done tonight, or that he would never do something like it again.

He shook the annoying memories aside, focusing instead on his mate's home in the distance. He was close and he already missed her, even though the demon (contradictory bastard) was only just beginning to grumble. Spike wanted to see her, scent her, feel her skin.

Upon walking up the front steps, he got a funny feeling, the kind that made your nerves all stand alert, and paused your feet. The kind that had Spike tilting his head and honing his senses.

A moment later, he'd run inside and directly to Buffy, every bone in his dead body hot and unsettled. Darla was fuming in the living room, while his mate sat on the couch looking tired and like she'd been crying.

Spike sped forward and dropped the bag of blood he'd acquired from a butcher in town; pig's was better than nothing. He'd rather go without, though, if it meant he'd have been here when another vampire had gotten close to his mate.

"It was- It was my dad."

He went to envelope her in his arms; Buffy flinched away and he tried to ignore the sensation that a knife was slicing through him. "H-He was a vampire," she whispered.

"More a bastard than when he was human," Darla snarled. "Never thought that was possible."

Spike looked at Buffy's ashen face, the lost look in her eyes sending anger and helplessness through him. He'd learned about her dad being absent from her life, but he didn't push to know the details just yet. Buffy would tell when she was ready, Spike figured. Now, all he cared about was her father's location so he could kill him.

No, he couldn't do that. Not unless Buffy gave the go-ahead. Except he might have to, to protect her. If her father had showed up here, the most likely cause was-

"He wanted to kill me."

The quiet admission, the look of heartbreak on her face, and Spike was hauling her into his arms even as she fought to be free. "I'm sorry."

She squirmed and wriggled, and protested his embrace until his throat went tight and he let her go. She stood like he'd been constricting her, and wiped her face with her arm. "What do you have to be sorry for?" she said. "It's not your fault my father tried to- tried to- I mean I know he didn't want anything to do with me or my sister or my m-mom, but to try and-"

"He's not human, Buffy. He's turned into a monster, now," Darla reiterated for the third time.

"And what are you?!" Buffy pointed, and then to Spike. "And you?! You don't- You both are not- NOT like him. He HATES me, and wants to kill me."

"He's not going to," Spike growled.

"How are you going to stop him?!" Buffy yelled, her eyes welling up and starting to sting. "Kill him?"

"If I have to."

"You can't." She shook her head and slammed her eyes shut, bringing a shaky hand to her forehead. "God, even after all he's done I still can't wish him dead."

Darla wore an expression that said she sure could. Spike turned, and stared at the woman he called his own. He searched for words that would comfort her, bring her peace. He was as lost as she. "Buffy, he isn't the man you knew."

"He's my father."

"No, he isn't. He's changed. He's a demon, and nothing else. Most vamps are," Spike explained.

"Oh, right." Buffy rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "But you and Darla aren't. I just got lucky. How do you both care, when my own father couldn't?" They were silent, and she cried, "How does that make sense?"

The vampires looked helplessly at each other, both feeling the same need to reassure, and prove their separate but equally genuine devotions. Neither could. The human they loved had just been betrayed in the final way by her own flesh and blood; there was no fixing that.

Buffy's father, one of their kind, had taken a sledgehammer to new relationships, and doubt had never gotten such a large crack to slip through.

***

Her tears and reddened eyes could make a clown return the favor of weeping a river. She looked so pathetic, Buffy thought, as she stared at herself in the mirror. She had run into the bathroom to get away, get some space, and here she was reliving the terror of seeing her dad with fangs. Fangs that had gone for her throat.

She couldn't stop picturing it, and her heart fought itself beneath the heaviness of her chest. She wanted Spike, and needed him, but still she remained fearful of having him hold her again.

Too bad. "Buffy!" He banged on the door; she'd only been in the bathroom for maybe ten minutes at the most. "Buffy! Let me in!" he shouted in his rough cockney tone. She had noticed that it got more pronounced when he was upset. "I'm not going to bloody eat you, you hear me?! Or anyone else!"

She rolled her eyes. "I-I'm not scared that you will!" She wasn't, truly. She was just scared that he would come to hurt her heart, and that all she'd believed him to care for her wasn't really there, that it was just a lie.

"Then come out!"

"Spike, will you please just leave me alone!" She leaned against the sink, turning on her reflection.

She heard voices murmur outside. Then, "Oi, alright now Buffy, Darla bloody agrees with me here! We're starting to get along, you've got to come out so the universe can put itself to rights!"

She almost laughed at that one. God knew, that if Darla and Spike ever admitted they actually did get along, the world would implode.

She didn't respond to him, and when she heard footsteps head away from the door, they were Darla's. Her best friend knew when to give Buffy space, even if she didn't want to. Spike knew, too, he just refused to leave.

A part of Buffy was grateful. This was his show of loyalty, of true care and attendance. She could sense him pacing outside the door, and it bothered her that he was scared she was pulling away, even if she was. She didn't want to hurt Spike. He wasn't the one who'd tried to kill her, or who turned her father into a vampire.

Buffy ran her hands through her tangled hair. She hadn't brushed it since getting out of bed earlier... Jeez, it felt like days since she and Spike had lain in her room, relaxed and happy, sharing bits and pieces about one another, learning each other. She felt like she was in a whole different world.

Her dad was dead and a demon now. He wanted to eat her, drain her of her life's blood. Spike wanted to kill him. It was all such a big mess.

The only thing Buffy was grateful for was the knowledge that Dawn was safe from all this stress and worry. Her little sister didn't need or deserve to go through-

"Oh God." Buffy ran. A bang from the door hitting the wall sounded like a starting gun behind her as she went downstairs, Spike following at her heels. His worried expletives and questions went almost unheard.

She picked up the phone and dialed. *Please, let they be okay.*

Spike's hands on her arms were like icicles. She'd never before realized just how cold someone's touch could be, but right now it wasn't the vampire's lack of heat and moving blood, but the chill in her own.

"Xander?"

"Buffy! I was just about to call you."

"Where is Dawn?"

"Actually, she's on her way to your house. Buffy, this might sound kind of crazy, but your dad- He showed up at our house today."

The air left her lungs, but she was still able to say, "He did? When? Is Dawn okay?"

"Yes, she's working this weekend," Xander answered. "I called her right after he left. I-"

"Tell me you didn't let him in, Xander." Her hands tightened on the phone.

"What? No! No, I didn't. He was acting really... direct. And very impatient to see Dawn, too. Funny, since he hasn't cared enough to send her so much as a birthday card since she was fourteen," Xander said bitterly. "I told the asshole I wasn't letting him in, not without Dawn here, and that was it. He left. I called her to tell her what happened, then she said she was going straight to your house after she got off work."

"She was?"

"Yeah, she's taking a cab. You know I usually pick her up but she wanted time to talk with you in private, sister-to-sister stuff."

Buffy sighed. "Does she have her cell phone on her? Or did she forget it again?"

"She left it at home. She always looses it or forgets the thing. This is the fourth one she's had in the last three months."

"You said she's taking a cab here?"

"Yeah, she was going to call me when she got to you."

"Okay. Thanks, Xan."

"No problem. I'll see you both a little later."

"Right. And if my father shows up again, don't let him inside."

Just like that, the weights which had sat on her shoulders evaporated- Nearly. Buffy hung up the phone and sighed. "Dawn, she- she's on her way."

"I heard, love." Spike had figured things out easily. After Buffy started dialing, that was when he'd calmed down, but he knew his mate hadn't. She couldn't until her sister was here, safe and sound.

Buffy nodded. The color that started to return to her cheeks made him feel relief. Spike dropped his hands from her arms and brought one up to caress her warming face as she turned to him. She said, "He went after my sister."

He couldn't reply. He had no words, and the worst part was that he couldn't tell her it wouldn't happen again. Now that her father was a vampire, he'd likely go after Buffy and her sister again. Nearly all vampires tried to cut their ties to the human world once they rose as undead. Spike was an exception to that rule, for he had never wanted to hurt his family or those who'd been kind to him when he was human. It sounded as if Darla was the same. However, most vampires didn't have a problem hating anything that they believed made them weak.

Spike's jaw clenched. He would never let Buffy get hurt by her father. Never. Or let her sister get hurt. The only issue was dealing with the undead dad without losing Buffy's trust, or damaging her heart.

She burrowed into Spike's arms, shivering. She said something quiet, something that sounded heartbreaking before he even asked her to repeat it.

She lifted her eyes up. "I said, 'You would never do that, right?' "

His heart felt like it was twisted in his gut, like a dead weight. "No," he gasped roughly. "Never. How can you think-" His voice hardened. "I would never hurt your sister. I would never hurt you like that."

She shook her head at him, trying to slip away. "If my own... If he could, how am I to expect that you wouldn't-..." Her broken worries tore him apart, and when she tried to step back, Spike held fast. She said, "I'm sorry. I know you wouldn't."

"Damn right I wouldn't." The pain in his voice was clear and badly hidden, but he couldn't help it.

Buffy closed her eyes and let him gather her body closer, despite the tension in her back. The world today was messed up, with Darla's incident concerning the person in the alley last night, and Hank Summers...

And in the whole mess was Spike. He had cared about her, it seemed. He was scared for her now. Buffy couldn't say exactly how she knew, only that she did. It must be a claim thing. That, and his eyes. Those incredibly expressive blue eyes that never fell short when it came to making her heart melt.

Except her head kept shouting alarms, warning her: *If your own dad wanted to kill you because of the change, what's to stop Spike, and even Darla from...?*

*The claim. The claim will stop him. Everything you've learned supports the things Spike has told you.* And Darla nearly broke down today over almost killing a human last night. Spike had gotten every conceivable chance to harm Buffy, and had not once done so, even when he had reasons Buffy could assume were good enough for a serial killer with no conscience.

He was more than that. So was Darla. She just had to accept that her own dad wasn't.

The sound of the front door opening and slamming shut rang in the distance. "Buffy?! Buffy, where are you?!"

Dawn. Buffy sped from Spike's loosening arms, heading directly for the dining room. She plowed right into her sister, and Dawn barely had time to complain before she was wrapped in a protective, if also suffocating, embrace.

It took her a second, but Dawn finally wrapped her long arms around her sister and squeezed tight. "Dad came by the house today," she said.

"I know." Buffy pulled away to look her sister over. "He came here, too."

The sad, unsurprised look in her big blue eyes could easily cause a knotted throat. "Did- Did he say anything... important?"

Buffy judged that by the way her sister had spoken, Dawn didn't really know what could be defined as "important" coming from the man, and honestly, neither could Buffy. The big question, of what to tell Dawn to keep the young woman away from Hank Summers,- if not for emotional safety, then definitely for physical -made Buffy's head spin. She couldn't tell her that Hank had tried to kill her. She...

She might have to. Buffy closed her eyes in sad realization, and fought the tears burning behind them again. Saying it, warning Dawn, made it all so very real. "Dawn, he... he tried to hurt me."

Confusion entered her sister's gaze. Buffy swallowed. "He was... cruel, and bent on really hurting me."

Dawn frowned very hard, her brow line pinching. "Wh- What do you mean?"

"That he's no longer able to be trusted, in any capacity. You can't talk to him, or see him, or let him inside your home. Do you understand me?"

She looked like she was processing, thinking hard and nearly uncomprehending the words and the warning. She believed it, though, for which Buffy was eternally grateful. In the background, Darla stood patiently and quiet, below the archway of the living room, where she had stayed in order to give privacy to Buffy and Spike earlier. Now, she looked sympathetic as she stared at the sisters, and it was another blow to the doubt which had tried to build a wall around Buffy's trust.

"Hey!" Dawn said, despondency gone and replaced by shock. She pointed at Spike who had just entered the dining room, staring at him like he was a sideshow act. He didn't look at Dawn much differently. "You're the guy who helped me earlier!"

Spike suddenly looked as if he wanted the earth to open up and swallow him.
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END NOTES: ATTENTION! I was reviewing the last chapter ("What Matters") and realized there was a middle part missing, right after the first "***" and before the sentence "They fell asleep." and I am so annoyed at myself for missing it. I added the missing part back in. It is not a long portion but it is rather important for the flow of the chapter, so I'd recommend reading that part again. I apologize for my mistake!

Also, please review!!





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