By Spiralled
Page One
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Dawn glances at her watch. 12:17 am. She picks up her pace as she rounds the corner of her block. She sees her house, every light is off. She slows to a walk. Entering through the kitchen door, she closes it was a practiced quiet click. She scans the fridge, noting a square piece of paper. She pulls it off, realizes it’s a cartoon, crumples and drops it on the floor.
She pads up the stairs, stepping to the left side of the soft spot on the 6th step. She stops in front of Buffy’s door. Her hand hovers over the handle. With a deep breath, she turns the knob and opens the door. The bed is neatly made. The pent air whooshes out. She turns abruptly, her hair fanning behind her.
In her bedroom Dawn grabs her backpack, dumping out the books, she shoves in a tee-shirt, pajamas, underwear, and a book. Marching straight to the bathroom, she grabs toothpaste and a toothbrush, knocking the others into the basin.
She slips back out, not bothering to lock the door.
Scene II
Dawn raises her fist to knock, but the crypt door is a jar.
(Sounds of crashing, splintering, thumps and groans are heard.)
She glances around, spies a shovel and grabs it. She slips the backpack off into her left hand and eases herself sideways through the narrow opening. With her back tight to the wall, leading with the shovel, Dawn edges further into the crypt.
(With a thump, the fight sounds end.)
(Unseen to Dawn)
Spike: I’ve pinned you good, luv.
Dawn’s shoulders relax. She props the shovel against the wall and peeks around the corner. She sees Spike’s back, but he’s so close to whomever he had pinned to the wall that her face and most of her body are obscured.
Dawn tips her head sideways, her brows furrowed. (From Spike and guest, “mmm, mmm” sounds are heard.) Dawn’s eyes open wide, her mouth drops into a round “O” and her cheeks flush. She pulls back around the corner.
(Unseen to Dawn)
Spike: Bloody hell! Can’t you take of that cross? I’ve got more burn marks than you’ve got birthdays!
Dawn’s lips turn up in a half smile, her free hand clapping over her mouth, eyes squeezing tight, stifling the giggles.
Buffy: Humph! I came back wrong, not stupid. Besides, don’t they say no pain, no gain?
Dawn’s eyes fly open, her head tips up and her hand slides down until just her fingertips covers her lips, a breath away from a scream.
Spike: You know how to hold a bloke’s feet to the fire. Next you’ll fancy me holding the sacrament in my mouth while we do it.
The backpack slips from Dawn’s fingers, both hands clamping over her mouth, her body convulsing in a struggle to control her gag reflex.
Buffy: Not a bad idea. I have some in my Slayer Starter Kit and I’ve never known what to do with them.
Spike: There’s a starter kit?
Buffy gives Spike a long look.
Buffy: Ready for Round Three?
Spike: Last pin was mine, so give it your best shot.
Dawn back peddles, tripping over the shovel, clattering to the ground, but it’s drowned out by their mutual thrashing. Picking herself up, Dawn runs blindly from the crypt, through the cemetery and only stopping at the end of the shipyard pier. She leans in, pressing her cheek against a post. Her knees buckle and she slides down, clutching her legs to her chest, resting her forehead on her knees and rocking back and forth, oblivious to the dead dock men strewn along the pier.
Scene III
Drusilla kneels next to Dawn, stroking her hair.
Dru: What have we here? Such a sad little girl-doll.
Dru’s head tips slightly, as if listening to the wind.
Dru: With good reason.
Dawn: How, hic, how could they?
Dru: Tinkerbell came back. Too much clapping. Like the waves that called me here. And you too.
Dawn looks up at Drusilla.
Dawn: I could pirouette naked on our mother’s grave and she wouldn’t notice! (Teeth Clenched) Too busy taking care of a vampire!
Dru: I wasn’t called up to the Dance either.
Looking out across the water, Dawn’s eyes narrow.
Dawn: She is so in trouble. I’ll tell Xander and Willow and… and… Giles!
Dru puts her index finger under Dawn’s chin and turns her head until Dawn is caught in her gaze.
Dru: Would they doubt you? (As Dru fingers the earring dangling from Dawn’s ear.)
Dawn: Doubt me.
Dru: (Staring intently at Dawn) A compass is always drawn to true North.
Dawn stares back at Dru, eyes becoming big pools.
Dawn: Vampires!
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