Title: Loaded

Author: Jeanny

Rating: R

Spoilers: Season 5 Through The Gift

Feedback: Please. jeannygrrl@hotmail.com

Distribution: I don't mind, just credit me and let me know where it's going.

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the characters that appear on the show are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy, Inc., UPN and any one else with a legal binding claim to the shows and/or characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Spike has to rescue Dawn from herself. Takes Place between The Gift and the start of Season 6. Warning: Profanity, Alcohol Use and Mature Themes.

****************

Dawn could still remember when she had loved everything about school, from blackboards to spiral notebooks to taking quizzes on half sheets of paper. While this branded her as a brainy geek for the majority of her classmates, she had been nice and gregarious enough to attract her share of friends. Of course, that was before she knew that none of that was real. The monks who had made her human had apparently thought she would turn out to be some kind of Stepford child if they gave her those kinds of memories. If they wanted that kind of Key, they shouldn't have used Slayer blood.

There it was. The rage. At times like these Dawn's thoughts were like bees buzzing nonstop in her head. Bees in different colors, mostly red and black.

*What right did those...fucking bastard monks have to do that to Buffy? If they hadn't used Buffy's blood, she wouldn't be dead. So it's their <my> fault she's dead. My sister's dead because of them <me>...my sister is my sister because of them too...*

Dawn pressed her hand to her head, as if there was some invisible off switch that she could sense by touch alone. She was so tired of being a beekeeper. She was tired of thinking, she was tired of school...she was so wrapped up in herself she hadn't noticed her whole class had already filed out of the room. The substitute history teacher, Mr. Patterson, smiled at her kindly as he laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Time to go, Dawn."

"Go...oh, right. Sunnydale Museum. Field trip." She gathered up her things and followed Mr. Patterson to the bus. She was the last person to step on, and she slid into the only available seat, too preoccupied with her uncontrollable thoughts to even notice whom she had sat next to.

"This is so lame." The whisper made her jump in her seat. Seeing the face attached to the voice only made her feel more nervous. Shane O'Toole, the most feared student at Sunnydale High. Of course, one had to use the loosest definition of 'student' possible to have the term apply to Shane. His class appearances were rarer than full solar eclipses. Which brought to mind the question...

"What are you doing here?" The question came out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Dawn winced, but Shane seemed to find it amusing.

"I had some business that needed attending." Dawn knew the translation for that one. Credible threats of bodily harm against the faculty were all that kept 'failing all classes' from Shane's personal delinquency checklist. He gave her a quick once over, then a leering grin. "I thought I'd check out what I've been missing." Dawn felt her cheeks flush.

*Oh my God. Shane O'Toole is crushing on me.* He was actually pretty average in the looks department, wavy ash blonde hair that he wore greased back, only slightly taller than Dawn but strong and muscular. She had never before been close enough to him to see his eyes, electric blue and piercing in a way that was painfully familiar. His gaze was so intense he seemed to look right through her. That kind of scrutiny from Shane made Dawn shiver; from fear, she told herself.

"Oh," she sighed, and wanted to kick herself again. That sounded so weak and girly. She didn't want him to think she was like that. Buffy had been tough in school; all the guys were afraid of her, even the punks according to Xander. Of course, Xander had also warned her to stay away from Shane O'Toole. Ignoring that buzzing thought, Dawn leaned back a bit and tried to affect an air of disinterest. "Miss much?" she drawled, both shocked and pleased at how she sounded, jaded and flirtatious, like a film noir femme fatale. Shane smiled and she shivered again.

"Nah," he said, leaning in closer and whispering in her ear again, causing her to blush more intensely. "Can you keep a secret, Dawn Summers?"

*Oh my God, he knows my name. Gee, can I keep a secret? I'm a mystical Key transformed into human form. My sister used to be a vampire slayer. I live with two witches and a robot, and my babysitter is a vampire. Oh, and Xander Harris killed your brother Jack, even though technically he didn't cause Jack was already dead.* Dawn was the only person other than Xander that knew that he had saved everyone by keeping Shane's older brother from blowing up the school. He made her swear not to tell the others, and she never had, even though she didn't understand why he wouldn't want them to know. He had only told her when he found out that Shane was in her class; it was part of the whole 'stay away from Shane O'Toole' warning conversation that she had taken so seriously at the time and now wished would just get out of her head. She was close enough to Shane to smell cigarettes and whisky and some kind of woodsy aftershave. She shivered again. That smell was almost as familiar as his eyes, but she pushed that thought away. Before her brain could reengage she leaned close to his ear.

"It depends. Is it a secret worth keeping?" she whispered. Shane lightly touched her shoulder, then brushed her hair back, pinning it behind her ear with a kind of studied gentleness.

"It's the kind that a girl as smart as you would keep locked up forever and never tell. Cross your heart," he replied. Dawn's heart was racing. Between the fear invoked by the clear threat, and the rush caused by his nearness and the intimacy of whispers, she felt more alive than she had at any moment since Buffy's death.

"And hope to die," Dawn whispered. "Tell me a secret, Shane." Shane leaned in so close his lips brushed her ear, almost the whisper of a kiss. Dawn held her breath as he began to speak.

"The real reason-"

"Students, quiet down now! I need you to give me your attention! Abby, Phoenicia, quiet." Mr. Patterson’s voice broke the spell. Shane sat back in his seat and Dawn quivered in relief. Or so she told herself. Deep down she knew it was really disappointment.

Once the roar of conversation had died to a murmur, Mr. Patterson told them when and where they were to meet after soaking up some culture, and they filed off the bus. Dawn kept looking at Shane, but he was now acting as if she didn’t even exist. Within seconds of joining the throng of students Dawn had lost sight of him. She sighed as they entered the museum hall. Lost in her thoughts again, she didn't even notice that she had wandered away from the others.

*He just vanished. I hate it when guys do that. I wonder where he went. Bad Dawn! The guy's a freak. A kinda cute freak. A really sexy...NO! Stop thinking about Shane! That's it, I'm not thinking about him anymore. He never told me his secret. I wonder what it was? Was it about me? The way he was looking at me...I bet it was about me. Oh, God, I have got to stop thinking about him. Ummm...okay, think about someone else. Spike. I never realized before how much Shane looked like Spike. Whoops! Don't think about Spike. Think about...Xander. That's good. Xander...I wonder if they still have that Inca mummy exhibit in the basement? Good, Dawn, that had nothing to do with Shane at all. Damn it...I'm thinking about Xander! Let's see...Xander...Xander...Xander would go nuts if he even knew I was that close to Shane, though it's not like he went all psycho killer and pulled a knife named after a girl, right? He might not be as much like his brother as...*

A hand grabbed her arm and another hand covered her mouth, muffling her scream. Dawn struggled against the attacker who dragged her into one of the unused exhibit rooms.

"Don't you want to hear that secret?" It was Shane. Dawn stopped struggling and he released her. She turned on him, eyes blazing.

"You scared me!" Dawn hissed. Shane grinned at the flash of anger in her eyes.

"Don't get all feisty. You liked it."

"I did not!" Dawn protested.

"Then go," he said. Dawn grew even angrier at his tone of dismissal.

"No," she said stubbornly.

"Then stay," he said in that same indifferent tone. Dawn crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. Then remembering she was supposed to be tough and sophisticated, she faked insouciance.

"Are you going to tell me?" she asked indifferently.

"The secret?" he responded coyly.

"No, your favorite Backstreet Boy!” she sniped back sarcastically. “Of course the secret. Not that I really care one way or the other," she added hastily. Shane appraised her calmly for a few moments, then grinned.

"Okay...I'm about to take something from the museum. Major heist. Wanna help?" Shane's eyes gleamed intensely as he leaned closer to her. Dawn shrugged, this time with not entirely feigned nonchalance.

"Sure," she said casually. Shane raised his eyebrows in mocking surprise.

"You're a tough girl, huh?" he commented. Dawn smiled enigmatically.

"No. It's just...stealing. No real big," she said. He looked into her eyes for a moment, then nodded almost to himself.

"Oh, I get it. You've got a klepto streak in you," he said, leaning in to whisper in her ear again. Dawn shivered with excitement; there was no point in pretending that wasn't what it was now. "Maybe you're not such a nice girl, Dawn Summers."

"Never said I was," she said, lowering her eyes flirtatiously. She continued eagerly, "So what are you after? And how are you planning on getting away with it?"

"Something easy to carry, practically unguarded, and extremely valuable, though the museum doesn't have a clue that it is...and don't worry about the getaway, it’s totally under control. You in?"

"Sounds like fun," Dawn shrugged.

"Terrific," he said, pulling a flask out of his jacket and unscrewing the cap. Raising an eyebrow as he offered it to her, she was again reminded how much he looked like Spike. "Toast to your life of crime?" he said. Her first impulse was to decline, but she reached out and took it from him. The others drank occasionally; she had even had to put Giles to bed once when he was inebriated. And now she was a tough girl like Buffy, right?

*Don't think. Just do.* She made a face as she took a big swallow of the burning liquid, and Shane laughed.

"Smooth, huh?" he said as she choked a little, shivering as a not-unpleasant warmth spread through her, reaching all the way to her fingers and toes.

"Sure, if you like lighter fluid," she rasped. She took a second swallow before handing the flask back. This one went down a little easier, and Dawn found her head began to fill with a much more agreeable buzzing. She grinned.

"Okay, let's go, Dawn Summers," he said.

"Why don't you just call me Dawn?" she asked. He put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned against him a bit, enjoying the familiar tempting scent.

"Okay, let's go, Dawn," he said.

One hour and several more belts from the flask later, Dawn was screaming with laughter behind the museum. Shane rolled his eyes and put his hand over her mouth, holding her from behind.

"Stealthy, Summers, real stealthy," he growled. Dawn tried to turn her head to give him a penitent look. She mumbled unintelligibly against his palm until he removed it.

"I'm sorry, Shane," Dawn giggled. "It's just...the look on your face!"

"I just wasn't expecting it," Shane grumbled. The item he had pilfered from the museum had been hidden in an exhibit devoted to mystery authors, specifically the display set up for Edgar Allen Poe. Shane had been startled by the sudden stirring of a raven. "I didn't know it moved."

"It was so funny. You looked just like Shaggy on Scooby-Doo when the ghost taps him on the shoulder. Only it was just a bird saying, ‘Nevermore!’" Dawn giggled. Shane shook his head, still scowling.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I got what I wanted, that's all that matters." Dawn squinted at the new bulge in his jacket, behind which he was cradling his strange plunder.

"Why d'ja want that thing, anyway. It's ugly."

"Nah, it's great. You just gotta put it in the right place...okay, our getaway car should be here by now...I'm gonna totally kick Flip's ass, I swear."

"Flip? Flip Conway is your driver? Man, I am in sooo much trouble now!"

Xander's Rule Number 1 had been to stay away from Shane O'Toole. Rule Number 2 had been never get in any vehicle that was being driven by Philip Conway, who had earned his nickname less as a play on his name and more on what he tended to do to cars. Golden child of one of the more wealthy and well-connected families in Sunnydale, Flip stayed out of jail and behind the wheel through his father's intervention. The rest of Sunnydale just learned to stay out of the way.

Flip's vehicle du jour left both Dawn and Shane agape as it came screaming around the corner and stopped over the edge of the curb. Shane went to the driver's side and opened the door, hauling the smaller teen out and slamming him against the side.

"We're robbing a museum and you bring this as a getaway car? A hearse? With your last name on the side for the world to see? Are you insane or just really, really stupid?"

"I kinda had an accident this morning. This was the best I could do on short notice," Flip said, defensive and a little afraid. Shane released him in disgust. Flip made a show of brushing himself off, then looked at Dawn without surprise.

"Is she the one?" he asked.

"She's what we've been looking for," Shane replied smoothly, moving back to Dawn and putting his arm around her shoulders, holding her steady. "You two know each other, right?"

"What didja mean, I'm what you've been looking for?" Dawn asked. Shane and Flip both smiled. If Dawn had been more herself, she would have noticed that the smiles didn't quite reach their eyes.

"You know you're a special girl, Dawn, right?" Shane purred.

"You mean cause I'm the Key? Cause I don't think I work anymore." Dawn said. Flip frowned at Shane in puzzlement and he shrugged.

"You'll work just fine, Dawn Summers. You're going to be perfect," Shane said smoothly, opening the door to the hearse and helping Dawn slide inside. Flip looked at him anxiously.

"Are you sure she's-"

"I'll make sure."

"What if she's not?"

"Then we'll get rid of her and find another one. Now that we have this," he said, taking the heart shaped box out of his pocket and holding it up. It began to glow and beat loudly, and both boys grinned as Shane continued, "and the girl, we're going to totally rule this town."

"That's gonna rock," Flip said excitedly, then frowned at Shane. "You're sure nothing can go wrong?"

"I've thought of everything. Anyway, we both know the kind of losers that pass for the law in this town. Who's gonna stop us?"

****************

The vampire sat up straight, the voice in his head waking him from another nightmare. These days those were the only kind of dreams he had. Immediately dread overtook him. He had grown used to hearing Willow's voice in his head, but only on patrol and on the rare occasion to ask him to take care of Dawn. He had already sensed that this was something else, some shade of urgency she didn't normally have.

"What is it?" he asked aloud, even though he knew she would hear his thoughts just as well. It was too disturbing to converse that way.

"She ditched school?" Spike asked, trying not to smile. Not such a serious offense in his book, though he certainly would give her a talking to about it. Her big sis wouldn't like it at all. The brief thought of Buffy wiped all urges to smile from his mind.

"So I should start at the school?" he asked, thinking it would at least give him a place to start.

"Right then. I'll head over there now, see what there is to see."

"Good. We'll find her, Will," Spike said as he picked up his trusty blanket and headed out into the late afternoon sun. *And she'll be okay,* he added mentally, more for his own benefit than for the witch's. He wouldn't lose another Summers woman. Such was his vow.

****************

Dawn knew she should feel terrified, but instead she felt warm, floating above it all. Shane had blindfolded her, making her giggle as he told her they were playing a game, and she was going to love it. She already loved it, as apparently the game called for her to ride practically in Shane’s lap, his arms wrapped around her shoulders protectively. She knew that Flip had almost turned the hearse over twenty times on the short drive from the museum to wherever it was they were now, but the only time she'd screamed was when she had felt Shane's fingers slip off of her shoulder and brush against her side, not quite touching her breast. The near miss had made her feel all tingly, a bit relieved and strangely disappointed. The car had stopped and she'd been led into what felt like a big room. It had a funny smell, oddly familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. They left her alone for a moment while they discussed something in harsh whispers just out of the range of her hearing. Shane had admonished her to leave the blindfold on, but she was dying to take it off.

"Can I take this off now? I wanna see!" she giggled.

"Not yet, Dawnie. You'll ruin the surprise."

"Is it a good surprise?" she asked, shivering as she heard footsteps approaching and felt his arms encircle her from behind. He whispered his response in her ear.

"The best surprise ever. You want it now, Dawnie?"

"Yuh-huh," she said, trying to swallow. Her mouth was so dry. She felt Shane holding her steady and the flask touched her lips again. She took another sip. She felt more than a little disoriented and dizzy in the blindfold-imposed darkness.

"Come on then. Don't peek. This is going to be fun, I promise," he said, propelling her forward from behind. She stretched her arms in front of her, laughing and stumbling a bit. Her heart was racing with excitement. Part of her was terrified, buzzing with a litany of all the things that could go wrong, all the things they might do to her. But it was so far away...

****************

Spike snuck out of the museum the way he'd gotten in, relieved and a bit uneasy to see night had fallen. There had been no sign of Dawn anywhere in the museum, but he had gotten a bit of information from eavesdropping on a couple of guards. Something was missing from one of the exhibits, a mechanized beating heart knick-knack one of the curators had brought in to add authenticity or some such. It was a cheap unimportant thing, according to the guards, so they were thinking its disappearance was just a prank, but Spike wondered. Something about this thing seemed almost familiar, but he couldn't quite figure it out. It was giving him a very unpleasant nervous feeling.

*Spike, where are you?* Willow's voice was again in his head, making him jump a bit. When the witch was nervous her voice felt twangy; it was enough to set his teeth on edge.

"Just left the museum, pet. Nothing here. You gotta a lead on the slaylet?" There was a hesitation, and Spike's bad feeling got worse. "You still there, Red?"

"That's good," Spike said cautiously. "Need me to go fetch her?" Again there was that pause. If his heart still beat he would have been certain he was having a heart attack. The next words in his head felt like he had been injected with ice water.

For a moment everything seemed to slow. Spike's mind flashed pictures of a broken girl, blond hair fanning out around her head like a halo. The shaft of sunlight burning his skin felt like nothing next to that pain. And Dawn huddled against the stairs, weeping, not moving until he'd reached out his hand...he remembered how her heart felt beating against his chest, like the wings of a frightened, injured bird.

Her heart beating...

Her heart...

Spike's jaw tightened as a new memory came to the fore. Dawn was still alive, and he knew why she was taken. He just hoped they weren't too late.

"Meet me there and bring weapons. Go now!" he said, running into the night without waiting for a reply.

****************

When he'd finally removed the blindfold, they were in some kind of office: worn desk, worn chair, small worn velvet sofa...surrounded by flickering candles of all shapes and sizes. She gasped in delight. Like a prince in a fairy tale he kissed her hand, leading her to the sofa and sitting her down upon it. She smiled at him, eyes shining in the candlelight.

"It's so pretty," she said. He smiled back.

"Are you surprised?" he asked, leaning in and capturing her lips in his. For a while nothing else was said, as her mind and body seemed to explode with new sensations. Something like a warning bell seemed to sound from far away, easily ignored at first but growing louder until finally she began to struggle to pull away from him.

"Shane, stop!" Dawn cried, finding herself all entangled in clothing that was no longer quite where it should be. Shane immediately released her, touching her only to help her straighten herself out. She was humiliated and near tears. He must hate her now. Shane cocked his head to one side, observing her with a strangely speculative look.

"Hey, chill, Summers. It's okay. Tell me the truth, first time?"

"First everything...Shane, I never...and I'm not ready. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to lead you on. Did I lead you on? Are you mad?" Dawn buried her face in her hands, suddenly feeling queasy and exhausted.

"Not at all. I think it's great, that you haven't. I knew you were special."

Dawn looked up at him in surprise, but Shane seemed sincere.

"Really? You still think that?" she asked shyly.

"You have no idea how much." He squinted at her in the dim light. "You okay? You look a little off."

"I'm not feeling so great," Dawn admitted. "And I'm a little sleepy."

"Here," he said, gently pushing her to lie down on the sofa. "Why don't you sleep for a bit? I'll wake you when it's time."

"Time to go home?" she asked innocently, her eyes closing. She looked like a life-size porcelain doll. He watched her breathing rate slow and grow deep and steady, his smile growing more malevolent.

"Not exactly."

****************

As a vampire, Spike could run very fast, but he still had only barely arrived in front of the funeral home when a large spot in the empty space to the left of him seemed to become liquid. Willow and Tara pushed through it, stepping on to the sidewalk as the space around them returned to normal. The blonde witch looked dazed, while the redhead was grinning proudly. Both were holding as many weapons as they could carry.

"That was cool," Willow gushed. Spike looked at her through narrowed eyes. He'd known his share of witches over the years, and only the most potent could manage that level of spell. He would never admit it, but Willow's exponentially increasing magickal capabilities frightened him more than a little. But in this case he was grateful. A powerful witch was exactly what was needed to save Dawn. He glanced at Tara, who seemed to have recovered a bit though she was still frowning. Having a spare along wouldn't hurt either.

"I hope you heard me when I was talking to you, Red. About the Cuore Fulminaro?" Willow nodded, eyeing him speculatively. Spike could tell Willow was wondering how he knew about it. Few magick users had ever even seen a Cuore Fulminaro outside of renderings in books. Dating from the Italian Renaissance, they were strangely mechanized heart-shaped talismans that once activated through an act of violence against an innocent made the owner nearly all-powerful. The more hideous and violent the act, the more powerful the user became. Decades ago he had tried to get one for Dru as a small token of his affection, only to find out that the devices wouldn't work for nonhumans like vampires. He'd had to do in half a nursery school to get Drusilla to stop crying over it.

"Yeah, we have spells to stop someone from using one. You know, I've read about those but I've never seen one...did you find one?" Willow asked with more interest than worry. Tara, on the other hand, had paled considerably and Spike knew she was already figuring out what was happening.

"I think they had one at the museum. Bleedin' idiots thought it was some cheap clever toy...it was stolen today. I think whoever has Dawn in there has it."

"If they're trying to activate it, they'll need...oh no! Dawnie. We've got to get in there! They've probably already started the ritual!" Willow said, tensing to run. Spike grabbed her sleeve and stopped her.

"You know how to destroy it?" he asked her. Tara and Willow exchanged looks.

"There's a spell," the blonde said, and Willow nodded.

"I wish we didn't have to destroy it..." Willow trailed off, disappointment flitting across her features briefly before it hardened in resolve, "But we do, because it's a dangerous thing. Too risky to have around." Spike knew that the redheaded witch would never have the nerve to mess with something as dark and destructive as this particular trinket, but for some reason still felt relieved that it wouldn't ever be in her hands.

"It's probably better if we do the spell from out here," Tara said, her hands fluttering a bit like birds as she spoke. "As I understand it, the spell kind of makes the Cuore Fulminaro..."

"Go boom, big-time," Willow finished, fixing Spike with a stern look. "You've got to get her out of there in the next twenty minutes."

"Right, off to rescue her then," he said, turning to head into the building. Willow waved her arms anxiously and he paused.

"Wait! I told Xander and Giles what's happening; they're on their way. Spike, whoever has Dawn must be human. You won't be able to fight them," Willow fretted. Spike smiled, then slipped into his game face.

"They don't know that," he answered cockily, slipping into the shadows. Tara and Willow exchanged worried glances before breathing deeply, getting into the proper mindset to begin the ritual.

The truth was, Spike was a lot more worried than he was letting on. He knew if it came to a physical battle for Dawn, he was in trouble. The lights were off in the funeral home except for some emergency lighting. He crept through the shadowy corridor, debating on whether to call out to the girl. Instead he let his vampiric senses guide him. He could sense three heartbeats in the building. Two were far down the corridor, but one was definitely closer. It also felt unusually slow, as if the person were asleep...or drugged. He headed toward it, tracking it to a locked office. Spike broke the lock and went inside, relieved to find Dawn lying unconscious and a bit disheveled on a worn couch. He approached her and a waft of alcohol fumes met his nose, answering the question of how she had come to pass out here. He hauled her up none to gently by her wrists, wincing at the minor flare of the chip, then gave her some light taps that he could get away with as they were not intended to hurt. A few more taps and a bit of shaking later, and Dawn was blinking at him blearily.

"Spike? What are you-?" she said, her words a bit slurred and earsplittingly loud. He clamped a hand over her mouth quickly.

"Keep your voice down, luv. Who brought you here?" he said in a hushed tone. She looked confused, but to his relief when he took his hand away she answered in a raspy whisper.

"Where is here? Where are we?"

"Conway Funeral Home."

"Conway...Flip Conway! And Shane O'Toole. Boys from school. I came here with them," she muttered, letting her head sink back against Spike's shoulder with a sigh. Spike immediately pulled her back into a sitting position.

"Hey! Stay with me here. Wakey-wakey. Those wankers hurt you? Other than getting you smashed?"

"No! They didn't...I wanted to go with them. With Shane." She practically purred his name, and the goofy smile on her face said it all. He glowered at her in annoyance.

"It's like that, is it? You think this Shane's a good guy?" he asked. Dawn frowned, uncertain how to answer that question.

"He's not...I know he does bad things, but deep down he's not...he cares about me," she insisted, then smiled, remembering how Shane had smelled to her. The same as what she was sniffing now. "He reminds me of you." Spike rolled his eyes in frustration.

"That's just beautiful, pet." the vampire said drolly. "Word to the wise, Dawn. Don't hang out with guys that remind you of me, alright? It'll cut down on the rescuing."

"Rescuing?" Dawn asked dazedly as Spike hauled her to her feet. She leaned against him heavily, but to his relief stayed upright.

"That's right. We're going to sneak out of here real quiet like, got it?" he said, turning towards the door.

"You know, I don't think so." Shane O'Toole was standing in the doorway, his hand under his jacket menacingly. Spike hoped he was hiding a gun and not a stake.

"You think wrong then, mate. The girl's coming with me," Spike said, putting on his most menacing expression. Shane paled and backed up a step. Dawn waved her hand in a calming gesture.

"Shane, it's okay. Spike's a friend. He's not going to hurt me, he's come to take me home."

"He's a vampire, Dawn," Shane said incredulously. Dawn replied before Spike could warn her.

"He doesn't bite people anymore," Dawn prattled. Shane smiled in cold satisfaction as Spike tugged on the girl's arm, wincing a bit from a little jolt from the chip.

"That's not true!" Spike said, his voice too shaky to be convincing. "I'm totally evil and I’ll be biting you soon if you don't learn to keep your big mouth shut."

"You and what army?" Dawn scoffed, then added conspiratorially to Shane, "He's all mean and scary when fighting demons, but with people he's a pussycat."

"I am not!" Spike said, honestly affronted, but he could tell O'Toole wasn't buying.

"Thanks, Summers. That's good to know," Shane said with a grin, pulling out the gun he'd been hiding and shooting a round into Spike's shoulder. The vampire went down with a pained shout, taking Dawn with him. Dawn screamed, clutching at the injured vampire until Shane roughly hauled her off of him.

"You shot him! You shot Spike!" she spit at Shane. The boy nodded, holding the gun to her head. She cried out as the still-hot barrel touched her forehead.

"He's a vampire, he'll get over it. Right now I need you to reassure me about something, Dawn. It's very important. You might say your life depends on it."

"W-what do you want?" Dawn’s asked in a small voice, terrified of what the answer might be.

"You and your vampire friend...are you together? As in involved?" Dawn mistook his behavior for stalker-like jealousy and answered hastily, her voice shrill and hysterical.

"No, no, he's just a friend. I mean ewww, do you have any idea how old he is?" she asked. Shane searched her eyes for signs of falsehood, then nodded in satisfaction. He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"That's my girl, Summers. Let's go,” he said suddenly, dragging her from the room by the arm. Dawn cried out in fright.

"But...but we've got to help him!" Dawn protested, grabbing hold of the doorframe to try to keep near Spike. Shane easily wrenched her free. He slammed the door shut and began forcing her down the hall.

"He'll be okay. At least until Flip comes back here and stakes him."

"No! You can‘t stake him! I'll...I'll do whatever you want. You know." Dawn's lashes fluttered down, and her face flushed hot. She couldn't believe she ever found this jerk attractive, and she couldn't believe she was offering herself to him this way. The thought of him touching her again was in many ways worse than the gun he was still pointing at her, but she would do anything to save Spike. Shane touched her cheek almost tenderly, and she shivered, nauseous.

"Dawn, I meant what I said before. I think you're very special. I really don't want that from you. In fact, I kinda need you in factory warranty condition. For now." The last two words made cold terror run through Dawn's veins. She hadn't felt this bad since Buffy had told her to be strong.

"What are you saying?" she asked dully, redoubling her struggles against him to no avail. Shane grinned at her, but his eyes were dancing with anticipation.

"What I'm saying is, you and me and Flip, we're gonna party. And at the end of the party, you're gonna die. I wish I could say it wasn't gonna hurt, but, well, it is. It really, really is. Feel free to scream."

"But you said m-my life depended on..." she said weakly, the pieces falling into place.

"Oh, yeah. I lied. I'm a bad guy, Dawn Summers. Your friend was right, you should really stay away from guys like me. Oh well, live and learn. Or in your case, I guess it's die and learn."

****************

Giles and Xander heard the moaning and pounding the moment they entered the funeral home. They followed the sound to an office door. When they opened it Spike collapsed onto them, sending the three of them sprawling to the floor in a heap.

"Good Lord!" Giles exclaimed. "What happened?"

"What does it look like happened, Watcher? That little punk shot me and took Dawn!" Spike answered, rolling off of them and using the wall to painfully pull himself back on his feet.

"Which way?" Xander asked as he quickly regained his feet and gave Giles a hand up. Spike started staggering up the hall without waiting for them; even with the bullet hole in him he was moving with vampiric speed. Xander bobbed his head towards the rapidly disappearing vampire. "Okay, I guess it's that way."

Giles shook his head ruefully and the two followed Spike down the corridor.

"We must hurry,” the Watcher fretted. “If Willow and Tara complete the spell-"

Whatever the rest of Giles' dire warning might have been, it was cut off by the sound of Dawn screaming. Giles and Xander ran faster. Spike had run through a door on their right. Giles and Xander had just reached the same door when a shot rang out. Instinctively they both ducked.

Spike had burst in on them just as Dawn screamed. He saw the Cuore Fulminaro sitting on top of a makeshift altar. Dawn was tied spread-eagled to a gurney; she was still fully clothed but her shirt had been torn. Flip was holding her head still while Shane approached her holding a white-hot poker. When Spike barreled in he whirled around, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"In a rush to get dusted, huh?"

"Let her go," Spike growled. "Right now."

"Or you'll what? Ugly me to death?" Shane scoffed. He turned to Flip. "Get rid of him."

"No!" Dawn screamed as Flip drew his own gun and fired. This time Spike was ready and he easily dodged away from the bullet. He grabbed for the poker, clutching the business end of it and howling in pain and fury. He wrenched it from Shane's hands and flung it away, enjoying the surprise and sudden fear in the young hoodlum's eyes.

"Y-you can't hurt me!" Shane sputtered. Spike gave the teen a look that sent chills down Shane's spine. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Flip preparing for another shot. He braced himself, timing his move as Flip fired.

"Don't have to," Spike smiled grimly as he held the youth in the path of the oncoming bullet. Shane screamed, one short girlish blast that ended as his lungs filled with blood. He gurgled, his eyes wide and almost innocent with surprise. Spike dropped him to the floor as Giles and Xander wrestled the gun away from a stunned Flip. Spike ran to the gurney and broke the bonds holding Dawn with a snap, hissing at the flare from his burned hand. Dawn wrapped her arms around the vampire's neck and buried her face in his chest. He picked her up and motioned to the others with his head.

"Is she alright?" Giles asked in concern.

“Just in time. We've got to get out of here!" Spike answered, lifting Dawn easily and running for the exit. Giles and Xander followed at his heels with Flip Conway in tow. They managed to clear the building and barely get to safety before the Conway Funeral Home went up in a magnificent explosion. Once the rumbling had stopped, Flip stood watching the fire in dumb amazement. Xander nodded at the fire sagely.

"You know, on the Sunnydale High School scale of explosions, that's barely a blip on the radar, but still pretty impressive." Willow and Tara came running over, clearly exhausted but overcome with fear for their friends' safety.

"Is Dawnie okay?" Tara asked. Spike looked down at the girl still huddled to his chest.

"Take me home, Spike," she whispered to him. Spike smiled grimly.

"She'll be alright. I'll take her home."

"I've got the car," Giles volunteered. Spike's arms tightened around the girl possessively.

"And you've got three passengers already," Spike observed. Willow opened her mouth to protest but Tara's relieved look made her give Giles' car a look of resignation. "Plus you’ve got to wait with Funeral Boy here for the cops to show. I'll take her home," Spike repeated. "Meet us there."

"But Spike you're..." Willow called as Spike turned and vanished in that vampire way. He and Dawn were out of sight before Willow finished lamely, "...hurt." She looked questioningly at Giles. "Should we go after them?"

"I vote yes," Xander said quickly, but Giles shook his head.

"Spike will get her home safely," he sighed as the sound of sirens seemed to stir Flip from his daze. The boy tried to run, but Giles grabbed him by the shirt collar and yanked him back."I suggest you sit here quietly and think of how you’re going to explain yourself,” he said to the boy sternly.

“I’ll just tell them you did it,” Flip said with false bravado. Giles leaned in menacingly.

“I really wouldn’t recommend that. I think you’re going to take responsibility for starting this fire, and I think you’re going to tell your father you want to suffer whatever punishment the courts throw at you.” Seeing something of the Ripper in Giles’ eyes, the boy sat down and said nothing more.

“Remind me to stay on Giles’ good side,” Xander whispered to Willow, who nodded. A thought suddenly occurred to the Watcher and he turned to the two witches.

“By the way, just how did you two get here?" Willow slunk down guiltily. Tara gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder as the redhead braced herself for her own unhappy Giles lecture.

Meanwhile, Spike had carried Dawn for a few blocks before stopping and unceremoniously dropping her feet, forcing her to stand.

"Wait...what are you doing?" Dawn asked blearily.

"You need to walk a bit, nibblet. And you and I need to talk."

"Spike, please tell me you're not going to give me a lecture. I'm already dreading what's gonna happen when everyone finds out what I did. Xander's gonna go totally nuts, and Giles will get all British, and Will and Tara will get all worrying and sad and stuff. You're the only one I can count on not to be like that."

"What am I like then?" Spike asked, keeping a close eye on her as she wobbled slowly along.

"You're cool," Dawn grinned, then looked uncertain as she saw how angry he was.

"Wrong answer," Spike hissed, grabbing the girl by both arms and leaning in menacingly. "I'm evil, platelet. Never forget that. You meet somebody else that reminds you of me, you get the hell away from them, understand?"

"I don't have to take orders from you," Dawn said, her voice faltering.

"No, you don't. You don't have to be smart. You can go on like tonight, get into trouble. Get yourself killed if that's what gives you your jollies," Spike shrugged. "If that's how you want to thank your big sis, pissing away the life she saved for you-"

"Shut up!" Dawn screamed, slapping Spike across the face. The vampire's expression was unreadable as he met her gaze, but when he spoke his voice was low and shaking with emotion.

"Do you have any idea what those animals were going to do to you tonight? Things that give even me the willies, and that's saying quite a lot. If we hadn't...if I hadn't gotten to you...you would have..." The fear and concern she saw in his eyes finally made Dawn break down. He caught her as she started to crumble.

"I'm sorry," Dawn said softly through her tears. "I'm so, so sorry...I'm sorry I trusted Shane, and I got you shot, and Xander told me to stay away from Shane and I didn't listen, I'm so stupid..." she trailed off and buried her head on his shoulder. Spike winced when her head brushed against his rapidly healing wound, then without thinking wrapped his arms around her and held her to him. After a moment he swung her back into his arms, looking down at her as she blinked up at him.

"Lesson learned, then?" he asked. Dawn nodded, and he continued, "We can keep this business about the whiskey and the other whatnot to ourselves then. Tell the others you were kidnapped, forced to drink and such. I won't tell a thing different."

"Thank you," Dawn said, her eyes fluttering closed. Spike tilted his head for a moment, considering something she'd said.

"That is, unless you ever call me a pussycat again, then all bets are off."

"Check. Not a pussycat," Dawn agreed sleepily.

"Good. We're agreed then." There was silence for a few minutes, and he suspected that she’d gone back to sleep until she spoke again.

"Can I call you a teddy bear?"

"Nibblet!"

"Just kidding."

****************