I’m eighteen now, and with that monumental stroke of the clock, mortal as well. One hundred percent grade-A human. The Powers That Be granting me one last wish-taking the essence of the Key and placing it in some other container.

I’m happy. At least, I think I am. I mean, I’m still me. I have my face, my hair, my body, my memories. I have my love for Nicolas Cage movies and my fascination with old eighties classic rock. I have my knowledge of witchcraft that Tara taught me when Willow left. I have my ability to tune out Anya’s rambling, and I have my supreme skill to read Xander’s handwriting.

I’m still everything that makes me, me. Everything that makes me unique. Everything, that is, except the essence of the Key. And I’m not exactly sure if that means that part of me is missing. On one hand, the Key was with me for three years. On the other hand, the Key had nothing to do with who I am.

My head hurts. Midnight and birthdays are not meant for thinking.

I move over to the window, peering out cautiously. It is midnight, after all. I want to look at the stars and the moonlit street, not creepy skulking vampires. I don’t see anything moving in the shadows, so I curl up on the window seat, tucking my knees under my chin. My thoughts eventually wander, as they often do during my midnight musings, to the old Scooby Gang, or what’s left of them.

Willow left two years ago. She claimed to be unfulfilled with her life, and that she felt Tara was stifling her. After Tara got brain-sucked by Glory, she got restless. Tara’s recovery put too much of a strain on her, and Sunnydale wasn’t enough for her anymore. One day she just up and left, leaving nothing but a note explaining her personal issues, complete with smiley face at the end. Last time we heard from her, she was living in France and engaged to a curator at the Louvre.

Anya and Xander are still here, just not still together. Xander had moved Tara into his apartment when Willow left, since she was still fragile and needed someone to watch over her, and the two of them really hit it off. They became best friends. I always think it had a lot to do with the fact that Tara reminded Xander so much of Willow when she was in high school, and he needed that connection to his memories of Will. Sometimes I also think Xander really wishes Tara wasn’t gay, but he keeps his feelings well hidden and they became inseparable.

Anya, surprisingly, hit it off with Gunn when L.A. met Sunnydale a year and a half ago. That was about the most unlikely match any of us had ever imagined. Gunn had fallen for Anya’s outspokenness, lack of tact, and her insane logic. Anya was fascinated with Gunn’s bald head. I think his baldness reminded her of babies, since they’re bald when they’re born, and that brought out Anya’s maternal instincts. Of course, Gunn just adored Anya even more for that warped train of thought. Anya is now six months pregnant, and the two of them are living in bliss.

The L.A. crew is all still in L.A., except for Gunn, who stayed in Sunnydale when he met Anya, and Wesley. Cordy and Lindsey are still together, which is almost as much of a surprise to all of us as Gunn and Anya were. Somehow Lindsey managed to win Cordelia over, despite his connections to Wolfram and Hart. As they got more involved, Lindsey withdrew further and further from Wolfram and Hart. When he eventually walked away, he cashed in on their connections in Hollywood to land Cordelia a respectable agent before he left. Six months later, the agent got Cordy the romantic lead in a huge movie starring opposite Russell Crowe. Two months after the film’s release, Cordelia was Hollywood’s It Girl and flooded with movie offers from every major studio. Cordy and Lindsey are currently living it up in the Hollywood social circle. Of course, they always come back to Sunnydale to see us when they can, and they spend as much time with Angel and Faith as possible.

Angel and Faith. Whoo boy. The two of them inadvertently caused me more grief than Glory ever could have dreamed of. I guess Angel got his Shanshu thing about six months ago. We didn’t even hear about it until a month later, and Buffy was pissed. She was even more pissed when Wesley, who came to Sunnydale to tell us, also told Buffy that Angel and Faith had been together even before that. They were very careful to avoid what had happened between he and Buffy, but they worked so closely together and identified so much with each other, that things just happened. When Angel became human again, they announced to everyone that they’d already been together for months. They’ve been living together ever since.

Buffy was hysterical when she found out. She hated the world and everyone in it. We all had to keep her from running off to L.A. to kick both their asses. She took out all her anger and pain on me, yelling at me all the time about whatever she could-my grades, my boyfriends, my clothes. I hated every moment I was at home. I got lucky, though. I found out she was over it the day I came home and found her and Wesley in bed together. Although it was probably the most disturbing visual I’ve ever had in my life. I still have nightmares about it.

Giles is probably the least changed of any of us. He lives by himself in that apartment, and he still runs the Magic Shop, only with Wesley instead of Anya. Surprisingly, they don’t bicker very much at all. Although, I’ve caught Giles mumbling “bloody poof” at him on more than once occasion.

Sighing, I let my thoughts turn to Spike. I hate that I miss him so much, but I do. I’ve only seen him twice since he moved to L.A. to fight evil. Once was when everyone from L.A. came to Sunnydale to help destroy the big bad of the year, and the other was at Cordy and Lindsey’s wedding. Each time he was friendly and teasing with me, but it was obvious he was still hung up on Buffy. I wanted to yell at him that Buffy had never felt the same way about him as I had, but those were a couple of the rare times that I was able to keep my mouth shut before it got me in trouble. Although at the wedding, he did dance with me. And he said something, something that I have kept close to my heart and daydreamed about when I let myself. When we were all getting into the car to head home, he hugged me tight and whispered in my ear, “One of these days, Little Bit, we’re gonna quit standing still.”

When I let myself hope, I imagine that he meant that one of these days, he’s going to do something about those feelings that both of us know are there, but neither have acted on. In my sane moments, I figure he meant that eventually we’ll be more important than we are right now. At least he understands what no one else does, that I still feel like a kid and like everyone else still thinks they’re superior to me just ‘cause they’re older.

A movement in the front yard has me jumping away from the window before I can think. I see a shadow crossing the porch, and I’m so tense I could scream. I close my eyes and will the stupid thing away. I know it has to be a vampire. I mean, who else would come to my house at twelve-thirty in the morning?

When the knock sounds softly on the door, I stare at it in disbelief. Okay, now they’re knocking? Who ever heard of a polite vampire? But when I remind myself that it can’t get in, not even enough to pull me out, I decide to satisfy my curiosity and open the door. Thank God Buffy is asleep, or she’d have my head for being so dumb. So I cross to the door and pull it open, and I don’t think my jaw could drop any further.

“Spike!” I squeal, jumping at him and throwing my arms around him.

“Hey, Little Bit,” he chuckles. “How’s the birthday girl?”

Dropping back to my feet, I scowl. “Still the youngest one around here. And distinctly lacking presents,” I add.

Spike laughed and started to move forward, only to be stopped by that invisible barrier. Buffy never had that thing removed? Weird. “Come on in, Spike,” I invite, and he does. I follow him into the living room, where he sits down on the couch.

“Well, Bit, I’m here to give you a present,” he says with a smile, and immediately I’m twelve again, jumping up and down and letting an excited grin spread over my face.

“What is it?” I ask expectantly.

Instead of answering, he grabs my hand and pulls me down next to him on the couch. “See, I don’t think it’s fair that I tell you just yet,” he teases, and I pout again.

“Spi-ike!” I whine. “Come on, it’s not like it isn’t my birthday already.”

“But there’s so many things to talk about,” Spike says with a grin. “We haven’t seen each other in quite a long time. Shouldn’t we catch up before we get onto trivialities like birthday presents?”

“Birthday presents are not trivial,” I insist, tilting my head up and looking down my nose at him. “Especially when they’re mine.”

Spike chuckled. “You really want to know what your birthday present is, Pet?” he asks, pretending to be uncertain about telling me.

“Yes! Spike, tell me what you brought me!” I beg, bouncing slightly on the couch.

I’m completely unprepared for the look that comes over his face. All the laughter is gone, and his eyes are burning into me. With extreme care, he lifts one hand and tangles it into my hair, pulling me towards him. I can’t help but widen my eyes. What is he doing?

“Me,” he whispers, before bringing his lips down on mine.

Oh hell yeah. I’ve been kissed before, but never with this much intensity, and God, never with this much skill. Before I realize what I’m doing, my hands have gone up to his shoulders, pulling him closer as I fuse my lips with his. I’m embarrassed when I moan a little bit, but Spike only smiles against me as he kisses me harder. I feel desperate as I tangle my tongue with his, sucking hard, whimpering as one of his hands roams down the side of my body to rest at the curve of my hip.

My eyes fly open when I hear a gasp, and I pray that I won’t see Buffy hovering over me and Spike, ready to kill us both. Who I see over Spike’s shoulder is almost worse. Tearing my lips away from Spike’s, I groan. “Wesley!”

Spike’s eyes widen and he turns to look at Buffy’s livid boyfriend.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, Dawn?” he bites out. “May I remind you that it is a vampire you’re sitting there, making out with?” he says in a sour tone.

Spike’s amused. “Piss off, you bloody git,” he taunts Wesley.

Wesley sputters and draws himself up to his full height. “I don’t appreciate being spoken to in that manner by someone who is invading my home!” he spouts.

I roll my eyes. “Wesley, did anyone ask you to come down here?” I ask. “No? All right. Why don’t you go back upstairs and do whatever it is you do when you’re awake and Buffy isn’t, and leave us alone. Okay?” I ask sweetly. Wesley looks like he’s about to protest, but I harden my eyes. “I am eighteen years old now, Wes. Don’t try and play Dad to me, because you never will be, and it’s not like I ever listened to my own father anyway. Now, shoo.” I make a waving motion with my hands, and Wesley indignantly turns around to go upstairs, muttering several British epithets under his breath.

“Now where were we?” I question with a grin when I turn back to Spike. I’ve never seen that look in his eyes. Well, okay, I have, but never directed at me. It was the look he always gave Buffy. With that reminder, I can feel myself getting insecure. I pull away from him and pull my knees up to my chin. “Why are you here?”

Spike gently caresses my hair. “I’m here for you, Dawn,” he says quietly.

Glaring at him in disbelief, I mutter, “Yeah, right,” under my breath.

Spike cups my chin with one hand and pulls my face towards his, looking into my eyes. “It’s the truth, Bit,” he assures me. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to grow up? Ever since that whole disaster with Glory. I’ve been wanting to come to you and tell you that it's you, not Buffy. However, I knew I’d get my bloody arse kicked and possibly staked if I made a move on you before you were legal,” he says ruefully.

I want to believe him. “You wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true, would you?” I ask fearfully, looking into his eyes, looking for a sign that he’s just screwing with my head.

“Not a chance in hell,” he promises. “I nearly gave my unlife to protect you, Dawnie. Do you really think I’d save you, only to hurt you later?”

“But you love Buffy,” I point out in a wounded tone.

Spike chuckles. “Not a bit, Bit,” he laughs. “I admire Buffy, yeah. Who wouldn’t? For a time I thought I loved her, but it was only because I needed a strong woman in my life and thought I’d found it in her. Except the real strength was in her sister,” he says quietly.

I blink rapidly, trying to push back the tears that are forming. No one has ever loved me. Not once they met Buffy. All my old boyfriends couldn’t stop gushing about how amazing she is. I always think I’ll live in her shadow for my entire life. Now, suddenly, someone who used to want her, wants me instead?

I look at Spike wordlessly, and he smiles. “Now are we going to quit standing still, Dawn, or are you going to let me walk away?”

He always knows exactly what to say. With that one little sentence, he’s reminded me of that day at the wedding. He means it. He’s telling me the truth. And I’m not going to be too afraid to hold on to him.

Throwing my arms around him, I bury my face in his chest. “You may start walking, but I’m going with you,” I promise, my words muffled by his duster.

He chuckles and wraps an arm around me. “I always did give you credit for being the smart one, Bit,” he says in amusement.

Sitting up, I stick my tongue out at him. “Egomaniac.”

“Slayer’s sister.”

“Vampire.”

“Teenager.”

“Bicentennial man.”

“Hey!” he says in mock outrage. “I’ll have you know that’s Angel’s department, not mine. I’m a dashing 130,” he sniffs.

Laughing, I smile up at him. “How about you tell me something normal?” I request with a grin. “Because hearing my boyfriend tell me he’s 130 is definitely not something I’d classify as normal.”

Looking thoughtful, he settles back on the couch, pulling me with him. I rest my head on his chest and look up at him. “Well, have you heard from Angel or Faith in the last week or so?” he asks curiously.

I shake my head. “No way. We haven’t heard from them since last month.”

Spike smiles at me. “Well, Faith’s pregnant. How’s that for a bit of normalcy?” he asks with a chuckle.

“WHAT?”

Both of us turn and groan. “Hi, Buffy.”

While my sister rages about both Spike’s appearance and the news of Faith’s pregnancy, I smile. Buffy will get over it. She has Wesley now, and she’s happy. But for once, I have something to hold on to, someone to help me through her moods. So what if he’s a 130-year-old vampire? Normalcy is overrated.