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It's Not Where You Start Out (4/17)
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."
----------
4.
Dawn sat in the kitchen alone eating cold cereal for breakfast. It was still
early, likely hours before Buffy would wake up, which suited Dawn just fine. She
wasn't mad at Buffy, not really, but she just didn't want to talk to her right
now. She should've know that neither she nor Spike would understand. They were
freaks too, only they kinda liked being freaks, so how could they possibly
relate?
What she really wanted to do was talk to Lisa. She should've called her last
night, but she'd been mad after things went badly with Buffy and Spike and she
hadn't felt like talking to anybody, not even her best friend. Now, however, she
was anxious to be able to vent with someone who might actually *get* why Dawn
hated her life. Unfortunately, it was Sunday and Lisa's family went to church on
Sundays, so Lisa wouldn't even be home until after noon sometime. And the
prospect of sitting around the house until noon was not appealing to Dawn. Buffy
probably wouldn't sleep *that* late and Dawn didn't want to run into her first,
before getting to sort things out with Lisa.
She finished the last of her cereal then put the bowl in the sink. Maybe if she
grabbed a quick shower she could be out of the house before Buffy woke up. She
could go hang out in the park or something. In fact, if she remembered
correctly, Lisa's family went to that Baptist church that was right near the
park. She could wait there and catch Lisa when services were letting out, rather
than waiting for her to come all the way home first. Maybe they could even grab
lunch together at the Expresso Pump or something.
Pleased with her plan, Dawn went upstairs and took a hasty shower, dressed, then
headed back downstairs. She was on her way out the door when she stopped. Buffy
would go nuts if she just wasn't there. She'd think Dawn was pissed, had run
away or some other thing. She was *always* assuming the worst. Better leave her
a note so she wouldn't freak. She went back to the kitchen and wrote a hasty
note letting Buffy know she'd gone to Lisa's and would be back for dinner.
Sticking the note to the refrigerator with a magnet, she left the house through
the back door.
----------
Finally, after two full days of watching patiently, God provided. He had missed
an opportunity last night when she'd come home from her engagement early and
unexpectedly alone. He'd been caught off guard, but today he had been granted a
second chance. As he stood concealed in the line of trees that stood behind the
house, his patience was rewarded, proof of God's mercy and forgiveness.
Muttering a quick prayer of thanks, he watched as the girl came out of the back
door and bounced down the steps and onto the lawn. At last the time was near; he
would be able to correct what had been done to her. He would make it all right
again, undoing the disaster the apostates had wrought. Smiling, he followed her,
being careful to stay out of sight.
----------
It was a beautiful morning. The sun was bright and warm and it made Dawn feel a
little sorry for Spike, who could never enjoy the daytime. It was weird how that
never seemed to bother him. He never seemed bothered by his situation, not even
in regards to Buffy. How he could be so in love with someone and not let it
bother him that she didn't love him back Dawn would never understand. She only
*liked* Jeff and it was killing her that he didn't like her, or at least he
wasn't really interested in her as a *person.*
Dawn sighed as she approached the park. She had hoped Spike would be the one
person who would understand, but instead he'd been all "get over it." It was
infuriating. How exactly was she supposed to get over the fact that everything
about her life was a total freak fest?
She found a bench near the edge of the park near the little Baptist church Lisa
and her family attended. She could hear the lively Gospel music coming from
inside. Dawn's family had never been church-goers, but she'd been a couple times
with Lisa's family. She'd felt weird, not only being a non-church person but
also being one of the few white people there, but mostly it was kind of fun.
Lots of cool music anyway. Too bad she hadn't gotten up earlier or maybe she
could have gone with them this morning. It might have taken her mind off of Jeff
and being the Key and the Slayer's sister and everything.
"Excuse me, are you Dawn Summers?"
Dawn looked up to find a man dressed in a rough brown robe, like a priest or
something, standing over her. He had dark hair and soft dark eyes and spoke with
an accent that sounded sort of Russian. Dawn was pretty sure he wasn't from
Lisa's church since she'd never seen anyone there wear robes like that.
"Who wants to know?" she asked suspiciously, some of her sister's paranoia
rubbing off on her.
The man smiled warmly and sat down on the other end of the bench. "Forgive me, I
was so pleased to find you I forgot my manners. My name is Brother Ondrih. I am
a monk from the Order of Ochrana in Czechoslovakia. You are familiar with us,
no?"
Dawn shook her head.
"I'm sorry, I understood that you knew the truth. About your origins."
Dawn's eyes widened and she involuntarily slid back on the bench away from the
monk. "Y-you made me! You made me from the Key!"
He smiled kindly. "Yes, it was some of the brethren from my order who created
you."
Dawn stood up, backing away. "What do you want?"
"Dear child, please do not be frightened. I do not wish to hurt you. I wish only
to correct what has been done to you."
This stopped her backwards movement. "Correct what has been done to me? What do
you mean?"
"I wish to return you to normal. I wish to remove the Key."
----------
"So how did it go last night?"
Buffy settled the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she dug out the last
scoop of Cherry Garcia left over from last night.
"Not good, Will," she replied. "Dawn's pretty upset."
"Dawn?" There was a slight pause from the other end of the phone. "Why? He
didn't take off, did he?"
"No. It was Dawn who left actually. She thought he wasn't interested in her,
just all the weird stuff in her life. Like he was a wannabe or something. Kept
asking her about me and vampires and stuff instead of being interested in *her*
as a person, you know?"
There was another pause, longer this time. "Buffy, are we having the same
conversation?"
Buffy frowned. "We're talking about Dawn's date, right?"
"Okay, now this is kinda making sense. I was talking about Spike. Your
conversation with him last night."
Buffy threw her head back and groaned. "Oh damn. No, we never did talk."
"You chickened out, didn't you?"
"No, I didn't," Buffy answered defensively. "I was actually just about to tell
him when Dawn came home early from her date. She was pretty upset so we talked
with her for a bit, she stormed off, then Spike went out patrolling alone."
"Oh no, Dawnie's date didn't go well?" Willow asked.
"No, it didn't. Like I said, he kept going on about vampires and stuff and she
got mad and left. He's got her back on the 'I'm not a real person' track." Buffy
sighed. "I thought she'd finally gotten used to it, you know? Now this."
"I'm sorry, Buffy. Hey, I could do a spell on him. Something involving
pus-filled lesions?"
Buffy made a face. "Okay, *that* was gross. You looking for another invite from
D'Hoffryn to do Anya's old vengeance demon job?"
"Okay, okay. Sorry. I just hate to think that someone hurt Dawn."
"You and me both. And if Spike didn't have a chip Jeff would be vampire food
right about now."
"Which brings me back to my original topic," Willow prodded.
Buffy sighed. "I know, Will, I know. I still need to talk to him. And I will,
okay? I just gotta get the Dawn boyfriend crisis straightened out first.
She head the front door open and Dawn's voice calling her name.
"In the kitchen!" she shouted back, covering the mouthpiece of the phone with
her hand. Then into the phone she said, "Speaking of which, she's home. I'll
talk to you later, Will."
"Okay, bye Buffy."
Buffy hung up the phone as Dawn came rushing into the kitchen. Buffy was
surprised to see that instead of looking down or sullen she looked excited.
Could one talk with Lisa have done this much good?
"Buffy! There you are! You aren't going to believe what happened today!" She was
practically bouncing up and down, looking even more excited than she had at the
Bronze on Friday night when Jeff first asked her out.
"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Buffy prompted.
"I met one of the monks that made me out of the Key. He wants to do a spell on
me that would separate us. He would remove the Key completely and I could just
be a regular person!"
Buffy frowned as warning bells went off in her head. "Okay, hold on a sec Dawn.
Start from the beginning."
Dawn sat down across from Buffy, her enthusiasm unabated. "I went to the park to
kind of chill, maybe catch Lisa after church. I was just sitting there and this
guy comes up to me. His name is Brother Ondrih and he's one of the monks who was
protecting the Key. Order of Okna or something like that. Anyway, he told me
that he could make me normal again, remove the Key."
"And how would he do that?"
Dawn shrugged. "A spell of some kind. He told me it was kinda hard but that it
would be completely painless. He and a couple other monks would put me in a
circle with candles, you know, the same kind of stuff Willow and Tara do."
"I don't know, Dawn, I don't like the sound of this. First of all, I thought
Glory killed all the monks that were protecting the Key. How do you know this
guy is really who he says he is?"
Dawn folded her arms. "I don't know, maybe it was the brown robe? Buffy, he's on
the level. I mean, if he wasn't, he could've just grabbed me and run, right? But
he didn't. He told me to think about it, talk to you, and he'd be in touch. He
was really nice, kinda cute, too. He said that not all the guys from his order
were there when they made me and when Glory went after them. They had some sort
of disagreement, I guess. He said some of them thought the Slayer should protect the Key and the others, the ones Brother Ondrih was with, thought there
were better ways. But when Glory showed up, the one group panicked and did the
ritual to make me anyway. It took the others this long to find out exactly what
had happened and Brother Ondrih said he feels really bad that I got used this
way. He wants to remove the Key and take it back to Czechoslovakia." She paused to catch her breath.
"Czechoslovakia, Buffy! That is like the other side of the *world* from
Sunnydale! I could be Key-free! I could be normal again."
Buffy started to remind her that she was never normal to begin with, but
decided that was the wrong thing to say. But this whole thing sounded
very dicey to her. "I don't know, Dawn, this sounds really weird to me.
How do we know if it's even possible, to remove the Key from you without
hurting you? And if he's so interested in helping you, why didn't he
come to the house and talk to both of us? Why did he approach you in
the park and how did he find you there anyway? Was he following you?"
"I *knew* you'd be negative about this!" Dawn cried. "This is only the
thing I want most in the world, do you even get that?"
"I get that, Dawn," Buffy replied, trying to keep her temper in check,
"and I'm not being negative. I just think we need to think about this
before we do anything. Let's talk with Willow and Tara, maybe Anya too--"
"Why, so you can *all* gang up on me?"
"No," Buffy said, "because they all know a lot about spells. We could
all meet with this guy and make sure he's on the level. If he is, then
he wouldn't mind Willow and Tara and Anya coming along."
"He's a *monk,* Buffy. They're not usually big on Witches and ex-demons."
"I don't care, Dawn! I mean you don't really think I'm gonna let some
stranger do a spell on you without knowing exactly what it is and how it
works, do you?"
Dawn jumped up from her seat. "It's my life, not yours! It isn't your
decision to make!"
Buffy rose from her seat as well. "YES, it IS," she replied coldly,
losing all patience. "I am *responsible* for you, Dawn. Like it or
not, you're stuck with it."
Dawn glared at her. "I could always go live with Dad."
"Oh, now *there's* a brilliant suggestion! Dad doesn't *want* us, Dawn.
He doesn't give a damn about us! And even if he did, he doesn't even
know about *any* of this stuff. You think Dad's gonna say, 'sure Dawn,
go and have some monk perform a de-Keying spell on you.' It would take
a month just to explain to him what the hell the Key is in the first
place!"
Dawn put her hands on her hips and stared at Buffy angrily. "It isn't
enough that it's your fault I'm like this in the first place. Now you
have to ruin my ONE SHOT at having a real life. Thank you *very* much,
Buffy." Turning on her heel she stormed out of the kitchen through the
dining room. Buffy followed.
Dawn!" she called out, but her sister wouldn't stop. She rounded the
corner and Buffy heard her slam open the front door.
"Where do you think you're going?" Buffy called as she reached the
doorway. Dawn was already halfway down the sidewalk to the street.
"I'm going to Lisa's!" she called back without stopping.
"No, you're not!"
Dawn stopped. "What are you gonna do, *slay* me?" Then she turned and
kept walking.
Buffy paused, unsure what to do. She could catch her sister easily and
could force her to return back home. But then what? Would that help?
Would that make any difference? She remembered when her mom had freaked
when she'd first found out Buffy was the Slayer. Buffy had started
leaving, off to save the world -- *again* -- and her mom had threatened her, telling her that if she walked out the door not to bother coming
back. Had that stopped her? Of course not. Would threats stop Dawn?
Not likely.
Buffy slammed her fist on the door in frustration. God, she missed her
mom. She closed the door, then went back to the kitchen and picked up
the phone, dialing Lisa's number. Lisa's mom answered.
"Mrs. Johnson? Hi, this is Buffy Summers."
"Hello, Buffy, how are you?"
"Well, actually, uh, could you do me a big favor? Dawn and I just had a
fight and she left to go to your house. Can you call me when she gets
there? I just want to make sure she's really going where she said she
is."
"Sure, honey. Want me to send her home?"
"No," Buffy replied, "that's okay. I just want to make sure I know
where she is."
----------
Spike sat in his easy chair in his dark flat, the piece of parchment
Ethan Rayne's had given him held lightly in his fingers. He wasn't
reading it; almost didn't need to. He'd read it over so many times
since Friday night that he practically had the thing memorized.
Of course it wouldn't work. It obviously was very incomplete; Rayne
would've been beyond stupid to give him the whole spell. But what was
there looked possible. Not that he was a Witch or had any real depth of
magical knowledge. However, a fella didn't spend almost a century and a
quarter in the presence of all manner of supernatural beings without picking up a pretty decent basic understanding of spells and how they
worked. He knew enough to know a real spell from a bad chemistry
experiment, and this one looked real enough. So if that was the case,
then the whole spell must exist *somewhere.* And here Spike was, living
beneath what was easily the most comprehensive collection of books on demonology and spells in the whole bleeding region. And he with nothing
to do those long hours between closing and sunrise.
He tapped the paper on the arm of his chair. The real question was, why
should he bother? What would he do if he *did* find the spell, or one
like it? It was a bloody certainty that the lovewiccas wouldn't do the
spell for him. Of course, he could always find some less scrupulous
ones, ones like that Rayne pillock, and pay them to do it for him. L.A.
would be crawling with that type and it would probably cost him a few
bob less than five hundred dollars, too. He'd have to avoid Angel's
territory if he went that route, but that should be easy enough. L.A.
was a big city after all. And he had the money, too. The demonette
pretty much paid him jack for watching the place after hours, but then
again he didn't exactly have a lot of expenses. Room and utilities were
free, which left paying the butcher for blood and entertainment money.
Well, that and the bribe money he paid the intern at the blood bank when
he was hungry for something a little richer than pig's blood. Even that
wasn't much, though, and there was enough left over from the Magic Box
money to squirrel away some. And of course he supplemented that with
the occasional liberation of some hockable items he ran across from time
to time -- though never at the Magic Box; their trust had been too hard-won for him to ever betray it by stealing from Giles and Anya. So he
had the cash, and with a little patience and determination he could
likely find the spell and a Witch to perform it and presto, no chip.
The real question was, would he do it?
The quick answer, the one that seemed most natural to him was hell yes
he would do it! After well over two years of being completely -- well,
let's call a spade a spade -- *impotent,* he could be free again. No
pain, no fetters, nothing keeping him from being the vampire he was.
Nothing but Buffy.
But why should he let *her* stop him anyway? It was a foregone
conclusion she'd never love him, not really. She had befriended him,
she even felt attracted to him, but she would never love him. And it
was doubtful whether she'd trust him at all without the chip in his
brain. So what was the point?
The point was *he* loved *her.* The fact that she didn't return his
love was irrelevant. It was pathetic, and he knew it, but there it was.
Loving her had changed him. Or maybe he'd been able to love her because
he'd changed. Didn't really matter. He loved her and he liked loving
her. He liked his life and had no interest in being the vampire he once
was. The last time he'd even seriously tried was last year when
Drusilla had come back looking to reconcile with him. She'd convinced
him that the chip didn't mean anything, that he was still the same Big
Bad. He'd wanted so badly to believe her, too. They'd gone to the
Bronze and Dru had pointed out a couple making out upstairs. He could
remember how excited he'd been, almost delirious with hunger. It had
been a year since he'd fed out of something other than a plastic bag and
he remembered his mouth practically watering in anticipation. They'd
gone upstairs and he'd let Dru outpace him and reach the couple first.
They were so into each other they never saw her coming. With brutal
precision she'd yanked the girl away, snapped her neck, and tossed her
to Spike. She'd then fed off the bloke and for the first time since
he'd known her -- since she'd *made* him what he was -- he was repulsed
by her. Once watching her kill had been a thing of immeasurable beauty;
she was like poetry. Now it was nothing other than ugly. Unthinkable,
that a vampire should feel that way! However, the girl in his arms, so
freshly killed her heart was still beating, had made him so ravenous
that he'd fed anyway, letting himself become the very thing that was so
ugly in Dru. It was the last time he'd fed off a human, the last time
he ever wanted to. But god it had been a nearly rapturous experience.
He tapped the paper on the arm of the chair harder, his hand suddenly
filled with nervous energy at the memory. He'd turned his back on Dru
later that night, turned his back on everything she stood for as well.
But the hunger, the hunger would always remain. Which begged the
question, if he was done with the Big Bad thing, if he really didn't
want to go there again, why even consider the spell? Why face a world
of temptation, a world he once described as teaming with six hundred
billion people, all Happy Meals with legs?
And yet here he was, holding an incomplete spell in his hands, planning
ways to find the complete spell and have it cast upon him. He should
just throw the thing away, forget the whole sodding business. And yet--
There was a knock on his door and Spike jumped. Quickly he slid the
piece of paper into his pocket then flipped on the telly as if he'd been
watching it. "Yeah?" he called out.
The door opened and Xander poked his head in. "Hey evil undead. You
wanna give me a hand upstairs? Anya's been bugging me to fix the fan in
Buffy's training room and I could use some help."
"It's Sunday, lackbrain. I thought we got Sundays off," Spike grumbled,
but he rose from his chair and joined Xander anyway.
"Yeah right, like I *ever* get a day off," Xander replied.
"Don't see how that's *my* problem. You're the one who's marrying her,
not me."
"No, but if I'm gonna spend my Sunday afternoon fixing stuff then I'm at
least owed the fun of making *you* miserable."
Spike glowered at him by way of response.
The Magic Box was closed on Sundays, a concession Anya had made to
Xander, who'd insisted that she needed to take at least one day a week
off from work. After Giles had sold her half the business and gone back
to England, she'd refused to leave its management in anyone else's
hands, even one day a week, so Xander insisted that they close on
Sundays so she could take a break. She'd pointed out that when the
store was closed she wasn't making any money, and next to having sex,
Anya liked making money more than anything. Xander had won that battle,
but it hadn't really turned into a real day off. Most Sundays not only
were Anya and Xander there, the other Scoobies were often found hanging
about. Today was no different, Spike noticed as he and Xander emerged
from the basement. Tara was sitting in the little reading nook near the
basement door, studying, and a notebook and a few books were scattered
next to her in front of an empty chair with a fuzzy purple sweater
draped over its back, meaning Willow was probably holed up in the stacks
somewhere. Anya was at the counter, pouring over records of some sort.
Receipts, knowing her. Buffy was missing, he noted with a little
disappointment as they crossed the store and entered the training room,
but she rarely took a day off from working out back here, so she'd
likely be along later. He wondered if Dawn was feeling any better after
her bad date, or if perhaps she was the reason Buffy wasn't here.
Xander pointed out the fan that needed repairing and Spike helped him
drag over a ladder. The work went quickly, and Spike had to grudgingly
admit that the whelp had become quite the skilled carpenter, builder,
and all-around handyman. They were just finishing up when they heard
Buffy enter, using her key to come in through the back door near the
workout room.
"Hey, it's the Buffster!" Xander called down amiably from the ladder.
"Hey Xander!" Buffy called back, poking her head into the training
room. She sounded a little weary.
"What's wrong?" Spike asked, walking towards her. "Little bit still
upset about that stupid wanker?"
"Oh, we're past that upset and into a whole new world of upset," Buffy
grumbled. She headed into the front part of the store, Spike trailing
behind.
"Uh, a little help putting the ladder away?" Xander called out, but
Spike ignored him.
Buffy flopped down in a chair at the big table they usually used for
research and Spike sat down across from her.
"Hi Buffy!" Willow called down from the loft above where, as Spike had
guessed, she had been pouring through spell books.
"Hi Willow," Buffy replied, then looked at Spike. "You wouldn't
*believe* what happened today." Spike just looked at her expectantly.
"Someone claiming to be one of the monks who made her into the Key
approached her today when she was in the park."
Spike's back stiffened. "What!"
"You're kidding!" Willow added as she came down the ladder and sat down
on the bottom step right next to the table, a heavy spell book in her
lap. "I thought Glory destroyed them all."
"So did I," Buffy answered.
"What happened, is Dawn all right?" Spike asked, alarms going off in his
head.
"She's fine, just really pissed at me."
"At you? Why?" Willow questioned.
Buffy leaned forward. "This guy, he said his name was brother Andre or
something like that. He told her that he was here to help her. That he
wanted to take the Key out of her and make her normal."
Spike frowned. "That even possible?"
"I don't know," Buffy shrugged, "but I didn't like the sound of it. I
certainly wasn't going to just let her go and have some stranger perform
an unknown spell on her. So of course she got mad at me." She flopped
back in her seat again and let out a breath in frustration. "I didn't
say we couldn't look into it, I just said we'd have to check it out with
you and Tara and Anya first," she said looking at Willow. "But after
this disaster date last night she didn't want to hear it. She's so bent
on being normal, all she heard was this guy promising he could make it
happen."
"Where is she now?" Spike asked.
"She stormed off to Lisa's. I called Lisa's mom and she called me back
when Dawn got there, so at least I know she didn't go off and do
something stupid, but she's so mad at me. I don't know, maybe I'm just
being paranoid. Maybe this monk is on the level."
"No, he's lying."
They all looked up to find Tara standing beside the table. They had
been so busy talking they hadn't heard her approach from the other end
of the shop. Normally quiet and sheepish, she now looked alert and
concerned.
"Who's lying?" Xander asked, joining them from the training room.
"Dawn met a guy who claimed to be one of the monks who made her and he
said he wants to take the Key out of her and make her normal again,"
Willow informed him.
"It's not possible," Tara insisted.
"How do you know?" Buffy asked, and Spike could hear the tension etched
in her voice.
Tara sat down. "Humans can't just *create* life. At least not outside
of the regular way."
"She means by having sexual intercourse," Anya supplied helpfully from
the counter, then she added, "Only not in her case, obviously."
"Thank you for pointing that out, Anya," Xander called back to her.
Tara, however, unusually for her, was unperturbed. "Life is energy, one
of the most complicated types of energy there is. Spells can't create
energy, especially life energy. They can only *transfer* it. Like in a
transmogrification spell."
"Or making a vampire," Spike nodded in agreement.
"Exactly," Tara said. "Vampires aren't *created,* they're *transformed*
from human life to demon life, such as it is."
"And Dawn was created out of the Key," Willow said.
"Which was 'living energy,'" Buffy finished.
"Right," Tara said. "She was made *from* the Key, meaning the Key's
energy was transformed into life energy, human life energy."
"But why does that mean he can't undo the spell?" Buffy asked, puzzled.
"Oh, I'm sure he *can* undo the spell," Tara corrected. "In fact, I
would think that's exactly what he hopes to do. But it wouldn't have
the results Dawn is hoping for." She paused, trying to sort out how to
explain herself. "You can transform one kind of energy into another,
but you can't then *remove* the energy from the thing you transformed it
into and have both still exist as complete entities. It would be
like... like trying to remove Amy out of the rat."
Spike frowned, trying to puzzle out that one, until he remembered the
rat Willow kept in her dorm room. If he was remembering the story
correctly, the rat was actually a Witch named Amy who had transmogrified
herself into a rat to escape a mob on a literal witch hunt. Willow had
kept the rat, hoping to find a spell that would turn her back into a
human.
"We can find a way to turn the rat back into Amy," Tara continued, "but
we couldn't *remove* Amy from the rat and still have a rat left.
They're one and the same, the same life energy. Either she's a human or
a rat; not both."
Buffy's eyes widened in alarm as she made the connection. "So it's
possible for the monks to reverse the spell and turn Dawn back into the
Key, but not without Dawn, the human, ceasing to exist."
"Yes," Tara replied, relieved that she'd made her point.
"You're sure about this?"
"Yes," Tara replied confidently and Spike believed her. Though not as
personally strong a Witch as Willow, Tara had a much broader background
in Wicca and magic and had been practicing longer.
"Buffy, she's right," Willow agreed.
"Then this guy lied to Dawn," Buffy said.
"Blighter wants his Key back and doesn't care that he has to obliterate
Dawn to get it," Spike spit, fury rising.
"Okay, we need to find this guy, see if there are any more with him.
But first I want Dawn to hear this. Maybe she'll believe you guys."
She rose from her seat and went over behind the counter and grabbed the
telephone to call Dawn's friend's house.
"If this guy got close enough to Dawn to talk to her, why didn't he just
grab her?" Xander wondered.
"Prob'ly a hell of a lot easier to do a spell on a willing participant
than a captive," Spike mused. "And if he'd managed to convince Buffy,
too, less risk of getting his ritual interrupted by a crossbow."
"Makes sense," Xander nodded. "Man, why can't these bastards just leave
Dawn alone. Hell gods, knights, and now monks. Poor kid."
"Yeah," Willow agreed somberly, "I feel--"
"Oh my god!" Buffy cried out behind them. Spike's heart twisted
in his chest as they all turned toward her. Her face had gone
deadly pale and she was clutching the phone in a white-knuckled
grip. "What do you mean she's gone?"
NEXT
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