It's Not Where You Start Out (3/17)
by Kelly Frieders
raykel2@cox.net

Genre: Drama, B/S
Rating: PG-13, nothing you wouldn't see on the show
Disclaimer: Spike's not mine. Wish he were, but my husband might object. Buffy and all the rest aren't mine, either. I'm just borrowing them from Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy for a while.

Summary: Post "The Gift." Way post "The Gift," actually. Takes place sometime the following year. There's some new interest in the Key and an old enemy is back in town. Spoilers for everything up to and including "The Gift."

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3.

Dawn surveyed herself in the mirror, frowning. This outfit was awful. What was she *thinking?*

"I'm changing. I look like a doof."

"Dawn, this is like the fourteenth time you've changed outfits. You do *not* look like a doof. Go with it," Buffy said encouragingly. She was lying on her side on Dawn's bed amidst a pile of discarded clothing, watching Dawn get ready for her date.

"I don't know, blue makes me look like such a baby," Dawn said, looking again. Her hair wasn't right, either, and her face? Forget about it. Might as well call the whole thing off.

"No it doesn't," Buffy argued, "it's a good color for you. Brings out the blue in your eyes." Dawn could see her over the shoulder in the mirror as she sat up. "So this guy is really fourteen-outfit-change-worthy, huh?"

Dawn smiled and nodded. "He's soooooo cool, Buffy. I didn't even think he knew I was alive, but he just came up at the Bronze and asked me to dance. I was, like, totally ready to pass out."

"He is pretty hot," Buffy agreed.

"I know. But look at me! He's gonna be here in like five minutes and I look like... something you'd slay in the cemetery."

Buffy got up from the bed to stand behind her. "Oh yeah, you're very demon-like," she said sarcastically.

"I'm getting a zit and my hair is flat."

"I don't see any zit and you're hair is practically glowing. I wish I had such shiny hair. You're gorgeous, okay? *He's* gonna pass out when he gets here."

"Really? I look okay?"

"Really. And you know I'd totally tell you if you looked like crap."

Dawn stuck her tongue out in the mirror and Buffy returned the gesture.

"So you're going to the Bronze, right?"

"Yeah, I told you that already."

"And you'll call me if you do anything after that?"

"Yes, Buffy," Dawn replied wearily. "I heard you the first five hundred times, okay?"

"I'm sorry," Buffy sighed. "I can't help it, okay? I'm new at this. Protecting people, it's kinda what I do. Hard to leave work at the office."

"Okay, that's cool."

Of course, Dawn knew it was more than that. It was the whole Key thing. Dawn worked hard to forget, sometimes successfully for minutes at a time, that she was **the Key.** But Buffy *never* forgot. Not that Dawn could totally blame her. The whole reason Dawn existed was for Buffy to protect her, and after everything they'd gone through last year, all the very real dangers that Buffy had had to protect her from, it was no wonder she couldn't let go and just let Dawn be *Dawn.*

And really, Dawn wasn't always sure who she was anyway. Sometimes she felt like all there *was* was the Key. She had fifteen years worth of memories but knew she'd really only been alive less than too. It would totally freak her out if she thought about it too long. So she tried not to. She tried to be a regular person. Of course that could never happen. She was the Slayer's kid sister, and even without the weird Key stuff, that was enough to make her life permanently weird. But still, she could deal with that. She'd known for years -- well, her memories *told* her she'd known for years anyway -- that her sister was this freaky superhero. She'd even known before their mom, and their dad *still* didn't know. And she'd coped. Even Buffy returning from the dead, which pretty much made them the talk of Sunnydale for quite a few months, was something she could mostly forget. But this Key thing wouldn't go away. It would always be a part of her. And as long as that was true, she'd never really get to be just *Dawn* and Buffy would never be able to just let her go and have fun like Lisa or her other friends.

Dawn looked at her sister, who was trying so hard to fill Mom's shoes, to be parent and sister and Slayer all at once. She was annoying as hell, but she *was* trying. Dawn smiled. "Thanks, Buffy."

"For what?"

"I don't know. For telling me I look okay."

"You do," Buffy insisted. "And I'm glad you're getting to have some fun, really I am."

"Thanks." She leaned into the mirror for one last inspection. "Okay, I guess I'm ready."

"You wanna wait up here or downstairs?"

"Up here. Don't want to be sitting at the front door like I'm too anxious or anything."

"No," Buffy agreed, "better not."

Dawn went back to the bed and shoved the discarded clothes aside so she could sit down. "So where's Spike? I thought he'd come by to do the whole scowl and glare thing at poor Jeff."

Buffy laughed, but Dawn could tell something was up. Her sister looked suddenly uncomfortable. "He's coming by. Later. You know, patrolling."

Dawn cocked her head. "Okaaaay." She considered asking Buffy what was up, but then thought better of it. It was so obvious her sister had a thing for Spike and just refused to admit it and Dawn didn't want to freak her out by pushing the issue. Although she should. Buffy was clearly completely out of her mind. Here she had pretty much the coolest guy in the world totally in love with her and she didn't want to do anything about it just because he was a *vampire.* Like *that* was any big deal. For Angel she'd made exceptions. Angel who was cute but really mopey and boring. And every day was just a huge crisis, which, come to think of it, was probably why the vampire thing was such a problem with Spike. But really, any moron could see he was totally different. He was, well, *fun.* And if Buffy was too stupid to see it, well, her loss. But Dawn couldn't help but hope her sister would wake up and smell the Starbucks. And soon. It would be so cool if her sister and pretty much her favorite person in the world got together. And he'd be *so* happy. More than anything, except maybe not having to be the Key, Dawn wanted Spike to be happy. He'd gone through so much for them, he really deserved it.

The doorbell rang and Dawn's heart froze. "Oh geez, he's here!"

Buffy smiled. "Don't panic, you look awesome."

"Okay," Dawn said nervously as the two of them went downstairs together. "You're not gonna, you know, hang around the door are you?"

"What, I don't get to meet him?"

"And make him think this is like a big deal? Are you serious?"

Buffy sighed. "Okay, fine. I'll just go sit on the couch and pretend I'm watching TV."

"Don't watch us through the window though."

"You suck the fun out of everything," Buffy mock-complained. But when they reached the bottom of the stairs she dutifully went into the living room and flipped on the TV, pretending to ignore Dawn.

Satisfied, Dawn opened the door and Jeff was there, looking as cool as always, dressed nicely in a dark shirt and jeans. "Hey Dawn," he smiled as she opened the door.

"Hey Jeff."

"You look great!"

Dawn beamed. "Thanks! You too!"

"So, you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go."

Dawn turned as she walked through the door. "See ya Buffy!"

"Bye Dawn," Buffy called back, almost convincingly indifferent.

----------

He watched as they left the house together, the girl and her gentleman caller. So young, so innocent. It was so hard to believe she was anything other than she appeared. She seemed like any ordinary teenage girl, at least what teenage girls were like in this country. It was so hard to believe she was anything *but* normal. Poor thing. If only he could find her alone.

Patience.

----------

Buffy paced the floor of her living room nervously. It wasn't bad enough that her sister was out on a date, but she had to make this whole night one huge nightmare by promising Willow she'd talk to Spike. What had she been thinking?

It was stupid, being so nervous. Spike being in love with her was nothing new. Her not returning the feelings was nothing new, either. In fact, he'd probably look at her like she was an idiot for even bringing it up. A total "well DUH" moment. Except then it would make things all ooky and uncomfortable and instead of a nice fun time wreaking death and destruction upon the demon population of Sunnydale they'd both be all awkward and untalkative and it would be awful.

So why was she doing it? Because Willow was right. She *had* been sending mixed signals. She'd allowed herself to get so comfortable and friendly with Spike that she'd let those lines blur and it really wasn't fair to him, to let him think there was a chance when there wasn't. And there wasn't. A chance. Not a chance in the world.

She sighed. Still, she'd never been so reluctant to have a conversation like this in her life. She'd turned down guys before and it had never been a huge deal. She'd even turned down Xander when he had a thing for her back during their sophomore year, and that hadn't been bad even though he was one of her best friends in the world and she had not  wanted to lose his friendship. So why did she feel so neurotic *this* time?

A knock at the door ended her anxiety and sent her into something like full-blown panic. //Stop it!// she ordered herself. //You're being ridiculous!//

She opened the door to find Spike there.

"Hullo Slayer," he said casually, stepping past her and into the house. Although vampires needed to be invited into a human's residence or they were physically barred from crossing the threshold, once they received an invite it was permanent. Only a de-invite spell could bar them again. Willow and Tara were quite proficient with the de-invite spells and over the years had performed more than a few on Buffy's house -- one time for Spike, even -- but Buffy had re-invited him in just before they'd gone to fight Glory together, the very night Buffy had died, actually. He'd been welcome ever since and now didn't think twice about entering her home. At least he knocked now.

"Hey Spike," she said, trying to force a casualness into her voice.

"Platelet get off on her *date* all right?" he asked her, with so much distaste on the word "date" he might have been describing rancid meat. Buffy had to smile.

"Yes, she did, your disapproval notwithstanding."

He gave her a sneer. "Well then, off we go, eh?"

Buffy's stomach plunged to her feet. "Uh, hang on a sec, Spike."

He looked at her quizzically, waiting, and then frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she began, but he leaned a little closer to her and she involuntarily took a step back.

"Nothing? Why're you all twitchy?" Then he smiled. "Look at you, you're all goosey over kid sister's big date!"

"I am not," Buffy huffed defensively.

"Yes you are!" He chuckled tauntingly. "Oh yeah, you're a piece of work! Throw a mucus-dripping demon with two-foot claws at you and you don't even blink, but send kid sis out on a date and you're a wreck!"

"I am *not* a wreck," Buffy argued. "And you should talk, Mr. 'I-don't-like-the-looks-of-him.' You would beat up every teenage male that got within a ten-mile radius of her if you could."

"Well, *yeah,*" he said as if that were the most reasonable response imaginable. "But I'm evil. I'm supposed to assume the worst in people. Especially teenage hormone-ridden male people."

"Oh yeah, you're so evil. Miss Kitty Fantastico is scarier than you are," Buffy scoffed, referring to Willow and Tara's pet cat.

"Hey! You take that back!" Spike roared.

"What, can't handle being so cute and *kitteny?*" she baited.

"Kitteny!" He took a step toward her, hovering over her dangerously. She didn't back down. "Scared you good and proper last night."

*Now* she backed down. Flustered, she beat a hasty retreat.

He gave her a smug smile, but then noticed her more-than-usual unease and faltered. "What?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"Spike, I--" Buffy began, but was cut off by the door suddenly slamming open. Dawn burst into the room, home barely two hours after she'd left and clearly upset. She stopped short when she saw them standing there.

"Don't ask. I don't want to talk about it," she said tersely, then disappeared down the hall and into the kitchen.

Buffy caught Spike's eye and he looked as perplexed as she felt.

"I *told* you that wanker was no good. *Now* can I eat him?"

"No, you can't, because you can't hurt living humans. *I'll* kill him, and *then* you can eat him."

"Now you're talking!"

Buffy sighed. "I should go see what happened." She headed into the kitchen, Spike trailing behind, where they found Dawn helping herself to a pint of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food. Without looking at them she said "I told you, I don't want to talk about it." She pulled a spoon out of a drawer and sat down at the kitchen table.

Buffy and Spike exchanged glances, then Buffy asked, "You gonna eat that all yourself or will you share?"

"I'm eating it myself," she growled. Then after a moment she looked up. "But there's some Cherry Garcia in the freezer."

Buffy nodded and got up to get the ice cream in question, then helped herself to a spoon and sat back down across from Dawn.

Spike stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do. "Why don't I head out to the cemetery. I can handle the patrolling myself."

"I saw some leftover buffalo wings in the fridge," Dawn offered without looking up. "You know, if you want a snack before you go."

It was all the invitation Spike needed. He found the half-full bucket of wings, put a few on plate and tossed them into the microwave. He joined them a couple minutes later, taking a stool next to Buffy, and the three of them ate together in silence. Spike looked a little perplexed by the odd ritual, but Buffy shook her head slightly, hoping to indicate that he should stay quiet and let Dawn take the lead. Of course she was dying to know what exactly had happened and just how badly she was going to have to kill this Jeff guy, but she knew that Dawn would tell the story in her own time, or else she wouldn't have invited them to the snack fest in the first place.

About halfway through her pint of Ben and Jerry's, Dawn muttered "I am so sick of being a freak."

So that was it. Jeff must've heard some of the stories about the Summers girls and bailed. "You're not a freak, Dawn, you know that," Buffy said soothingly. "You're life is--" she hesitated, searching for the right word, then settled on "different. If Jeff can't handle that, then too--"

"Oh, he could handle it," Dawn said darkly, her head snapping up. "In fact, it's all he wanted to talk about. 'You've really seen vampires? Someone really kidnapped you last year? Your sister really returned from the dead?' Oooh, *cool.*' GAAAAAAAAH!" she cried, digging her spoon into her ice cream with more force than necessary.

Buffy frowned, confused. "So, you're upset because he thinks you're cool?"

"No!" Dawn shouted. "He doesn't think *I'm* cool. He doesn't even know me! He's not even *interested* in knowing me. He just wants to hear about vampires and stuff." She gave up on the ice cream and pushed the carton aside. "I mean, I have actual *interests,* you know? I'm a *person,* not just Freaky Chick Who Has a Weird Family and Hangs Out  With Vampires."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Spike put in.

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy said offhandedly. To Dawn she said, "I'm sure he was just curious."

"Yeah, but not about *me,*" Dawn insisted. "I mean last night, yeah, I thought it was cool. He knew all the weird stuff -- well some of it, anyway -- and it didn't bother him. But tonight the **whole time** it was 'I wanna meet your sister, can I see some vampires, blah blah blah.' I could have been *anyone,* as long as I knew all about the Hellmouth. He could've been on a date with *Xander* for all he cared." She looked up at the ceiling in frustration. "My whole life, or at least since I found out you were the Slayer, I wanted to be you, Buffy. I thought it was so unfair that you got all the cool superpowers and stuff and I was just some normal dopey kid. Except my "whole life" has really only been less than two years and now I'd give *anything* to have just **one part** of my life be normal."

"Dawn--"

"No," Dawn cut her off. "I know the drill, okay? I know you're not normal either, but it isn't the same. I used to think it would be so much better if you'd never been chosen, if you'd just stayed a regular kid and then I wouldn't have had all this weirdness in my life. Except the thing is, if you'd never been chosen, I wouldn't be your sister anymore. I wouldn't be Dawn Summers, I'd be someone else's sister. Whoever the Slayer was. I'm only me because you're you. If you weren't  the Slayer you'd still be *Buffy.* You'd still be you. If I weren't the Key I wouldn't *exist.* And I'm just so tired of being defined by other stuff. Because I'm the Key, because I'm your sister. I just want to be *Dawn.* I want to be *normal.*"

Buffy tried to think of a response, but she was at a loss. Spike, however, was not similarly afflicted. "Well, you're not, niblet, so get used to it."

Buffy and Dawn both turned sharply to him and Buffy shot him a warning glance, but he ignored her. "You know what another word for 'normal' is? 'Common.' And trust me, honey, you don't want to be common. Most people spend their entire lives just trying to prove they're *not* common."

"Yeah, but most people are really people," Dawn objected.

"Still singing *that* tune, are we?" He pushed his plate away from him and leaned across the table toward her. "You wanna make a fuss about how long you been here or how you came to be here, be my guest, but you know deep down that it's all rot, Dawn. The only thing that's real is **right now.** Not what you were, not what you'll be tomorrow, but what you are **right now.**" He pointed his finger down on the table top for emphasis.

"What difference does it make what I am right now if no one lets me forget what I was?" she protested, then turned to Buffy. "Does even a second go by when you don't think of me as this *thing* that was sent for you to protect? I mean, I know you're not mom and it's weird being all parenty, but do you honestly think you'd have been all freaked out about me staying the night over at a friend's house last night if I were just a regular person? If a hell god had never wanted to drain my blood to open her stupid portal?"

"I was not freaked out, Dawn."

"You're missing the point, sweet bit," Spike cut back in. "It isn't about us forgetting you're the Key. You *are* the Key. I'm a vampire, she's the Slayer. It's who we *are.* Why should we forget that? Why should we reject who we are?"

"I'm more than just a Key," Dawn bit out through clenched teeth.

"Damn right you are," Spike agreed. "But it's not an either-or proposition. Being the Key doesn't make you less *you.* It's part of what *makes* you."

"But I don't *want* that part of me."

"Some things we don't get to choose, love. It wasn't Buffy's choice to become the Slayer, it wasn't my choice to become a vampire, it sure as bloody hell wasn't my choice to get a chip stuck in my brain, but we all have to play the hand we're dealt. You take the Key and you take the memories the monks gave you and you make it into what *you* want it to be." He leaned back again. "Trouble with you is that you're letting wankers like that lackbrain you went out with tonight define you. Way I figure, they wanna see only one thing, be it the Key or the Slayer's Kid Sis or even Cute Teenage Girl, then it's their bloody loss. You're all those things, but none of them is what makes you special."

He paused, turning his attention to Buffy a moment, thoughtful. Looking back at Dawn he asked, "You know what makes her special?" He cocked his head toward Buffy.

"Well, it's either the creepy superstrength or the blond hair and perky breasts," Dawn said snidely.

"Hey!" Buffy protested.

Spike sneered at Dawn. "Wrong," he said, but then added glancing sideways at Buffy, "although they certainly have their attractions."

Buffy fumed and shot stakes at him with her eyes. If he wasn't going somewhere with this she was going to kill him.

"In my time I've come across, what, half a dozen slayers?" he said, attention back on Dawn. "They were all strong, they were all pretty, they all had some... spark. Something that set 'em apart. But the lot of 'em could never touch your sister. They never had what she has." He glanced at Buffy, and she wasn't sure whether she was more curious or terrified what he'd say next. "She had friends and a family," he continued, "and she refused to give 'em up just because a pack of stuffed shirts in England say that's not what a slayer is. She never let being the Slayer define her. Watchers on one side saying 'you're the Slayer,' telling her what a slayer is and what it isn't, mum on the other side saying 'you're my daughter, try not being the Slayer.' And somewhere in the middle, she defined her*self.*"

He looked at Buffy again, his expression serious and his eyes lit with just a touch of admiration. She felt incredibly self-conscious as he kept his eyes on her while addressing Dawn, his voice soft, almost tender. "It took her six years and dying twice to really get that, to stop fighting it and just *be* who she is. More than 'Buffy,' more than the Slayer. Because she owns it all."

Buffy swallowed hard as he looked at her a moment longer, until he flicked his eyes down before turning back to Dawn.

"So accept what you are and accept what you're not and then define your*self,* pidge. Because that's what makes *you* special. And sod the wanker."

Dawn gave a sheepish smile at that last comment, but it faded quickly. "It isn't that simple, Spike."

"Nothing bloody is."

"You have no idea what it's like."

"Yeah, you're right, my life has been the very picture of monotony," Spike scoffed.

"You're like a hundred and fifty years old! Do you even *remember* being fifteen?"

"When I was fifteen children knew their place," he said dangerously.

"See? You have no idea what it's like to not have any friends because everyone thinks you're a freak."

At this Spike started choking. Buffy decided it was time for her to rein in the discussion. "Dawn, you have friends. Lisa, Renee, Sharon--"

"Notice the conspicuous lack of *guys.*"

"So? I don't exactly have them beating down my door these days either," she snapped back, then regretted her words when she saw Spike flinch. //Okay, one crisis at a time, Buffy, let's stick to Dawn//

"Oh please! One off year -- and you could change it anytime you wanted to," Dawn replied, glancing at Spike, who looked away. "I mean, c'mon Buffy. Tyler back in L.A., and that other guy, the one who looked like Luke Perry. And since we moved here it was Angel, then Scott, Angel again, then Parker and Riley -- you had 'em lining up. I'm *never* going to have that. Being the Slayer is *sexy.* Being the Key is just weird."

Buffy rested her elbows on the counter, trying to organize her jumbled thoughts. "Okay, first Dawn, this is *so* not about me and my dating history. And second, those are some *brilliant* examples of successful relationships. Yeah, you really wanna model *me* in that department. And third-- I don't even have a third. We're trying to help you, okay? I'm sorry it didn't work out with Jeff, but it's his loss."

"Still doesn't make me any less alone," Dawn replied sullenly. Without saying another word she slid out of her chair and left the kitchen.

"Well, that went well," Spike said sarcastically.

Buffy sighed. "Remind me why I don't ship her back to Dad?" She turned to face Spike. "Thanks, Spike. For everything you said."

"Obviously nothing got through that thick head of hers," he grumbled.

"Of course not, she's fifteen. But actually, I think it did. She'll think about it later and realize you're right." She hesitated, wanting to say more, wanting to thank him specifically for what he'd said about her, but he got up, grabbed his plate, and headed for the kitchen sink.

"Listen, why don't I take care of the slaying tonight. You stay home, in case kid sis cools down and needs to talk more."

Buffy glanced over her shoulder, out the kitchen the way Dawn had left. "Yeah, I guess I'd better." She looked back at Spike and smiled. "Thanks again. You're... you're really good with her."

He smiled. "She's a good kid. Most of the time." He turned toward the back door.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?" he responded, turning back.

"You still can't eat Jeff."

He snickered. "Sod off, Slayer."

NEXT

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