Author: DivaDelilah (divadelilah@aol.com)
Description: Answer to Dramatic Spike's Fic Challenge. (see other parts for requirements)
Disclaimer: I don't even own my house, much less multi million dollar TV shows. Joss is God.
Distribution: Anything I okay, DivaDelilah’s Domain, FFN, various lists, award sites…
Feedback: Feed my addiction and I'll be your friend forever.
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Dawn dumped all of Spike’s junk on the bed, eyeing the different logos warily. “Do I even want to know what you bought at Frederick’s of Hollywood, Spike?”
He winced and grabbed that bag hastily, giving her a glare that could have melted ice. “Keep your hot lil hands out of things you know better than to touch, Bit. And that’s advice you can take to your grave. Trust me,” he said, winking at her.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Do you really think I want to know about you and Buffy doing the Slayer tango? Ew. As if.”
“Look, would you rather be in here sniping with me or out there explaining the Exorcist act out there to Father Giles?”
Dawn pursed her lips. “Good point. Okay, so what do you need me for in this hare brained scheme of yours?”
Spike looked hurt. “Who said it’s hare brained?”
“God, Spike, you’ve never had a plan in your unlife that wasn’t an episode of Looney Tunes waiting to happen. You’re like the Daffy Duck of the vampire set,” she replied, smirking at him.
“Good to know I have some dignity left,” he muttered, rifling through the bags.
Dawn looked over his shoulder curiously, waiting to see what he was so intent on finding. When he brought the object out of the bag, she groaned. “This so means I’m going to bed early again, doesn’t it?”
“Well, I won’t make you, but God knows the Watcher will. It’s going to get ugly tonight, I think.” His grin widened as he turned the box over to read the instructions. “Yep. Didn’t know they made games like the ones I bought for the next few days. Thought I’d cover all the bases,” he said, noting the look Dawn was giving him.
“Do you really think we’ll be here that long?” she asked anxiously.
He bit the inside of his cheek. Should I tell her the truth or- One look at her face told him she wasn’t going to let him bullshit her. “Well, pet, it’s possible. I mean, Angelus can be a wily sonuvabitch when he puts his mind to it. I don’t know how well equipped the cheerleader and their gang are. I just want to make sure whatever time we have to spend here isn’t a completely unpleasant memory.” He ruffled her hair and she scowled at him.
“You know, I’m not five years old. I’m fifteen; one year younger than Buffy was when she decided to find out what demon lovin was like.”
“And we all know how well that worked out,” Spike muttered, sitting on the bed and swiping the magazine she’d left on her bed. He read the title and frowned. “How to Make Him Think You’re Kissing Expert? Bit, does Buffy know you read this trash?”
“It’s Teen People. She bought me the subscription last Christmas,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Buffy even talks to me about girly stuff now. You know… like sex and stuff.”
Spike’s eyes widened and he looked at her in surprise. “She does what?”
Dawn grinned, finally getting the upper hand. “Talks to me. You know, about guys…Angel…Riley,” she said, letting her sentence dangle purposefully.
He stopped flipping the pages of her magazine abruptly, and pinned her with his gaze. “Talked about me, did she?”
Dawn shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe.”
“What’d she say, Bit?”
She stuck her tongue out at him and flopped on the bed. “Do you really think I’d rat on Buffy for you?”
He turned to her, leering mischievously. “I can force it out of you, you realize?” He flexed his fingers and leaned toward her menacingly.
“You cannot, you big old softie,” she said, grabbing the magazine and flipping through it herself.
“Oh, I can so,” he said, reaching out to tickle her sides.
She struggled, giggling and counter-tickling as best she could, but he was too quick for her. “No. No, Spike. Not tickling,” she said, gasping for breath as he continued his onslaught.
“Then give it up!” he replied doggedly.
“Okay, okay! Stop. Stop!” she said, flopping on her back and breathing heavily.
Spike stopped, unable to hide his smirk. “So what’d she say, Nibblet?”
“She said you’re a good kisser,” she said, her eyes twinkling merrily.
His eyes widened and he leaned back on the pillow next to her, waiting for her to continue.
“Better than Angel.”
“Now I know you’re lying, Platelet. Buffy would never put me in the same class as the grand Poofini,” he said, shaking his head and getting up.
Dawn rolled her eyes. “You have such an inferiority complex when it comes to Angel. You know that, right?”
Spike growled and began rooting through the bags again, ignoring her as best he could.
“Oh, for crying out loud, Spike! You are such a baby. Not all women are Drusilla. You may be smaller than Angel in stature, but you are heads taller than him here,” she pointed to her heart, “ and here,” she said, pointing to her head. “And Buffy knows it. Trust me.”
He looked at her, his expression unreadable, and she turned to leave. “Where you going?” he asked, his voice husky.
“To go get this talk with Giles over so it isn’t hanging over my head until I die.”
“Alright. I’ll get all this stuff into the Slayer’s closet so the Watcher doesn’t have a heart attack.”
“Just remember what I said, Spike. And don’t screw it up,” Dawn said, winking at him as she walked out the door.
“Bloody amazing,” Spike murmured to himself.
TBC……….