[A/N: I swear, I’m getting to the good stuff. Trust me. Title is a paraphrase of Oscar Wilde (oh that man was a wit – the quote reads “Questions are never indiscreet. Answers sometimes are.”) and the quotes are as attributed, and nothing belongs to me but the plot and some minor characters, otherwise it all belongs to someone else.]
Previously: Giles has gone back to England with a list of things do. Oz and Tara have bonded; Dawn’s traded the first set of journals for another. This picks up shortly after the last chapter.
Book Two, chapter 3. Indiscreet questions and answers.
An ounce of blood is worth more than a pound of friendship
Spanish proverb
A child can ask questions that a wise man cannot answer
Anonymous
Anya had left detailed lists of instructions on such diverse topics that Spike had no recourse but to smile. Buffy was reading one of the lists, an occasional giggle escaping her. They currently had the shop to themselves, it being too early for the after work crowd just yet and the after-school college kids and suburban moms ending their days.
Spike looked around surprised at how empty the shop was. But it was good, because he didn’t want to have a rush.
“Love?”
“Yeah?” She peeked over the edge of the list she was reading, a smile on her face.
“You okay w’Niblet doin’ this?” He had no idea why he was harping on it, but sometimes his mouth ran ahead of his brain.
“I guess. Just wasn’t really ready, but hey, its gonna be sooner or later, right?” Buffy made a little face her unreadiness showing. “She’s gonna be okay, right?”
“Yeah.” Spike was fully prepared to not allow Dawn to go if the boy proved unworthy, or if something was off, even just a little something.
He was still thinking about just what kind of things he could do to the boy when the phone rang. “Magic Box.”
“May I speak with Rupert Gi . . Spike?”
“Oxford?”
“Yes, its me. How come you are there?”
“Giles left this mornin’.”
“Damn. I was hoping to catch him before he left. He’s got his cell with him, right?”
“Yeah. Oxford, what’s goin’ on?” Spike had picked up on the anxiety in Wesley’s voice.
“Darla’s in labor.”
Spike released a long breath. “What . . Is everythin’ normal?”
Buffy had gotten up, coming closer, listening to his side of the conversation.
“Unknown. We think its normal but we can’t be sure.”
“Keep us posted.”
“Will do.”
They hung up simultaneously.
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Wesley wasn’t sure what constituted normal labor for a vampire – nor had he ever been present during human labor. He had no idea about the mechanics of the process and none of the others were prepared. However, unlike some of the other members of AI, Wesley had at least read a book on the subject. According to their calculations, Darla was about at term, give or take a week. Unsure what to do next since Rupert was currently incommunicado, Wesley consulted “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” and figured they needed to eliminate false labor pains.
Forcing Darla into the shower, Wesley waited, hoping this wasn’t the moment.
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They were sitting at the table talking about Wesley’s phone call, when the doorbell tinkled, signaling a new arrival. Both of them looked up, Spike automatically getting to his feet, while Buffy stared at her sister and the boy behind her. It was obvious to the older two that the teenagers were very nervous. The boy stood to Dawn’s left, his hands stuffed into his pockets, while Dawn shifted her feet, her eyes darting between the two people who held the most control over her.
Taking pity on her sister, Buffy said, “hey Dawn.”
Returning the greeting, she started down the steps toward the table. Throwing a glance over her shoulder to her prospective date, Dawn smiled at him and he followed her slowly. “Buffy, this is Casey.”
The boy Dawn was introducing had sun-streaked blond, kind of wavy hair, dark blue eyes and braces. He was taller than Dawn, about the same height as Spike, kind of on the thin side. His features were even, nose not to big, forehead not to pronounced, chin not too weak. Casey was, all in all, a typical normal teen-aged boy. Taking him in from top to bottom, Buffy had to suppress a giggle. He was so clearly nervous because he wouldn’t look her in the eyes at all, just kind of politely said hello.
“Casey, this is my sister Buffy,” and glancing once at the still form of Spike, continued, “and her boyfriend Spike.”
At the name, Casey’s head reared up, eyes widening slightly at the sight of him. Reaching out a hand, Spike was pleased when the boy took the hint and extended his in a handshake. “Hello sir.”
Buffy suppressed the inappropriate giggle that was threatening. Sensing her amusement, Spike just said hello back to the boy, then sent her a pointed look. Better the boy fear him than think he was a pushover, because this one was all human, not a scent of demon about him, and that meant Spike couldn’t do anything other than intimidate the hell out of him. Which wasn’t hard.
His raised eyebrow was enough to get the boy talking, because he said, “Dawn talks about you. Well, both of you.”
As if embarrassed about mentioning it, Casey looked over at Dawn, smiling at her. She was struggling not to scream at both of them to not make this any harder than it already was, but she grinned a little bit when Casey realized she was struggling with her backpack and he helped her.
Two, well, almost three points in the boy’s favor. Spike was quickly re-assessing his original thoughts about the boy, worried that Dawn would have brought home, at worst, someone with demonic origins, if not an outright demon. In one respect it would have been easier, because he could take care of demons but on the other, it wouldn’t have been good for Dawn or Buffy.
Casey shifted his feet, nervous now that there was no conversation, unsure of what to do or say. Throwing a nervous glance at Dawn, he sat down after she did, his hands clasped loosely on the table in front of him.
God this is so awkward. Why did he want to do this? Dawn sent a frosty glance at Spike, which he completely ignored. Instead, he tried to come up with something to talk about.
It was Buffy who finally broke the ice. “Casey, did you grow up in Sunnydale?”
“No, we moved here from New York about six years ago.”
Spike’s ears perked up at that. “Where ‘bouts in New York, I lived there for a bit, long time ago.”
“Um, outside of the city. We lived out on the island.”
Leaning against the ladder, Spike said, “lived down in the village.”
Buffy cleared her throat, forestalling any real sharing of Spike’s memories of the village, and he just grinned at her, knowing full well what she was doing.
“When’s this dance, Ni. . . Dawn?” Spike was done with the conversation, moved to let the boy off the hook by the expression on Dawn’s face, when things started getting uncomfortable again.
“Saturday” was Casey’s answer, which surprised everyone, including himself.
“Doesn’t give you much time to get ready.” Buffy looked at him, wondering how much money this was going to cost both of them, and how much they actually had to spend on this.
“I was afraid Dawn was going to say no.” The boy looked a little embarrassed to admit it, but the smile on Dawn’s face was enough to tell Spike that he had been foolish to worry about it.
“Can we go?” This was torture and she had to get out of there, otherwise she was going to end up shrieking the shop down, piercing eardrums for a five hundred yard radius.
“To the dance?” Spike looked at the pair of them, then Buffy. Waiting for a signal from her that she was okay with this, Spike smiled when she reached for his hand. “One condition.”
“Spike.” Dawn’s soft whine was all she would permit herself in front of Casey, but it got her point across.
“No debatin’ it.” He crossed to where Buffy was sitting, his hands dropping to her shoulders, an implacable look on his features.
Sighing loudly, she gave in. “Okay what is it?”
“I’ll pick you up when its time to leave.”
At least he’s not insisting to be there the whole time. “That’s it?” It was better than what she’d first thought he was going to say or what he might have said to Casey. Looking toward her date, she wondered what he was thinking about all this, but he stayed silent, looking to her for an okay on this condition. “Okay Spike.”
“Good.” He squeezed Buffy’s shoulders, gazing down at her, a smile playing about his lips. “You girls goin’ shoppin’ then?”
Knowing he’d managed to please one of the girls in his life, Spike did what he could to ease the thoughts of the other. “C’mere, pet.”
Effortlessly helping her to her feet, Spike led Buffy over to the counter, whispering the whole way. “Watcher left some extra dosh in case we needed it. Got it here. Take her out for a bit, and I’ll worry ‘bout the rest later, yeah?”
Winding her arms around his neck, Buffy kissed him, whispering back, “thanks for not going so hard on her about this.”
“I get a reward for bein’ good?” He leered at her, his tongue against his teeth, mischief clear in his eyes.
“Later. . . . promise.”
“C’mon Dawnie, we’re going shopping.” Buffy collected her bag, motioning for her sister to get up. “Casey, it was really nice to meet you.”
“Thanks.” Looking at Dawn, Casey said, “I’ll call you later, okay?”
Spike watched as the girls walked out the door. Calling the boy back to talk to him for a minute, Spike waited until the girls were gone before speaking.
“Dunno what she’s told you ‘bout me, but you don’t wanna get on my bad side. You take care of my girl, treat her right an’ you won’t have to worry ‘bout it. Hurt her, an’” he didn’t let the demon out, but Spike got a flinty look in his eyes, “you won’t know what hit you.”
To his credit, Casey didn’t back down, didn’t flinch at all when Spike started speaking. His only comment to Spike was, “I’ll do my best.”
And Spike let him go, knowing it was the best he could do.
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Instead of heading to the mall, remembering the disaster that was their first shopping expedition, Buffy headed to some of the smaller dress shops that were on Main Street, not too far from the Magic Box. Dawn was trailing behind her, watching over her shoulder for Casey to leave. She was kind of worried what Spike was gonna say to Casey when he was alone with him, knowing the vampire wasn’t going to let things go as easily as they had. He’d just been playing nice for her sake, to not embarrass her in front of him.
Finally realizing Dawn wasn’t walking beside her, Buffy turned around and headed back to where the younger girl was standing. “Dawnie?”
“He’s still in the shop.” Turning to her sister, Dawn asked, “do you think he’s gonna scare him?”
“Maybe. Just a little bit?” Buffy wasn’t sure either, but as they were discussing it, the shop door opened and Casey walked out, in one piece and not looking too scared.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Dawn watched as he headed off toward his house, never once realizing the girls had been watching for him the whole time. “Let’s go.”
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Dealing with the smaller shops had been a smart move. They found a dress for Dawn in the second shop, shoes and the rest in the next shop. Easier than last time. Buffy was so embarrassed about that, she’d made Dawn promise she wouldn’t ever tell anyone, not even Spike. Bags in hand and a plan for dinner, they made their way back to the shop, chattering excitedly at each other. But in the back of her mind, Buffy was still thinking about what had happened that first time, realizing she was making progress.
Then, the bright lights and all the people had sent her into a panic, causing her to hyperventilate and nearly pass out in the middle of the mall. The really embarrassing part was that she had just stood there, crying, unable to tell Dawn what was wrong and the whole time every bit of her had been screaming silently for Spike. Dawn hadn’t known what to do either and in her confusion she’d started yelling at Buffy and the situation had just gone from bad to worse. “Dawnie? I’m sorry about last time.”
“No biggie. I goofed too.” Smiling over at her, Dawn made a face. “Guess you weren’t ready then.”
“Nope. But I had fun tonight.” With a cheerful answering smile, Buffy continued, “major shopping goodness, since we got everything you need.”
“Yup. Do you think Spike’s gonna wig when he sees the dress?”
“Dunno. We’ll just have to hide it from him until Saturday.”
Dawn had found a dress, but it was blue, which just brought back memories of Glory and she’d balked until they found a similar dress in red, well it was more of a wine color. She just hoped Spike wouldn’t give her a hard time about it.
Three days until the dance. “OH! What about my hair?”
Putting their heads together, the girls headed into the shop, talking about hairstyles and makeup.
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Willow had watched them say goodbye to Giles in the airport, a calculating look upon her face. She’d followed them to the Magic Box then left to head back home.
One support gone. Giles leaving was of the good. He’d set up wards around the shop and his apartment and started setting them up around Buffy’s house. All they did was prevent her from wandering in as invisible girl, so they weren’t even all that elaborate.
But they existed. And Willow knew they were aimed specifically at her.
It wasn’t time yet. Soon enough and she’d prove to Giles that his little wards weren’t enough to keep her out and then she’d prove to Buffy that Spike was only playing at being a good guy.
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Rupert couldn’t help thinking that he was leaving too much undone. Even though he’d checked everything more than once. He still had that tingle at the back of his neck that always signaled bad news. Perhaps it was just what had transpired the last time he was on a plane or perhaps it was trepidation over dealing with the Council.
Or maybe it had been the look in Buffy’s eyes.
She was obviously very upset at his leaving. And nothing he’d said had reassured her in the least. Thank heavens for Spike. If the other Englishman wasn’t around Giles’ fears over leaving would have increased immeasurably. His unwavering support of Buffy in the last couple of weeks solidified Giles’ belief that the vampire would do anything to keep the girls safe.
When he’d first pitched the idea of him working, Spike had just kind of looked at him strangely. But as he’d laid out his reasons to the younger man, Giles had seen the moment Spike understood.
He was only asking Spike to do it for now, while Buffy got used to being back, and then Buffy would take over. This way, she’d have some money coming in and she wouldn’t have to worry about the utilities or the mortgage. It would also put the mail order and the shop in trusted hands.
Rupert focused on the list, instead of that sense of impending doom. It was going to be hard enough keeping things from the Council without the added distraction of worrying about what he’d left behind.
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They were out patrolling. Tara was downstairs studying. It was now or never. The wait had been too long anyway. Dawn locked the door to her bedroom and fished out the last journal.
It was easily the smallest and latest of all the books she’d chosen so far. Closing her eyes in a silent prayer that the answers would be found within, Dawn settled herself on the bed and began to read.
Four hours and thirteen minutes later, she found what she’d been searching for. It was there. The answers.
And it had been just as she’d suspected.
The damn monks had engineered it all somehow.
From the placing of the Gem of Amara in Sunnydale – to Spike’s discovery of it; from the Initiative capturing him – to their taking of all sorts of DNA samples.
They’d done it all.
Taken something of Spike’s and something of Buffy’s . . . . and magically constructed her.
Now that it was there in black and white and in Prior Raymond’s handwriting, Dawn almost didn’t believe it.
She was theirs.
Their flesh.
Her blood.
Dawn laid down on her bed and cried.
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