MANY HAPPY RETURNS
by perletwo
Buffy scurried at the sound of the doorbell. Over her shoulder she mentally counted heads - all accounted for, who could that be?
" 'Appy birthday, luv," said the bleach blond she found lounging in the doorframe.
"What are you doing here?" she hissed, glancing back at the party.
"I was invited," he said, challenge in his voice.
"By *who?* I swear, Spike, if you're here to embarrass me -"
"SPIKE!!!" Dawn came flying down the stairs behind Buffy, elbowing her out of the way to throw herself into the vampire's arms. "You made it, oh I am *so* glad you're here!"
"Dawn?" Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "Something you forgot to tell me?"
"Oh." Dawn sheepishly pulled herself out of Spike's bear hug. "Um, I ah, I invited Spike?" Buffy raised an eyebrow, lips tightening. "Okay, maybe I shouldn't've...but...I was so *pissed* at you guys, and you too, after that Scooby meeting last night that I, I thought it'd be easier for me to get through if I had somebody else here who sees things the same way I do."
"And what way would that be?"
"We both want you all to ourselves, Slayer," Spike answered for the girl whose shoulders his left arm was looped around. "Sod on the Scoobies, sod on all the other vamps an' demons, an' most especially sod on your bloody sense of duty if it means you're gonna go rot in jail an' leave us to mourn you. Again. Sod 'em all." Dawn nodded firmly, leaning into Spike's side.
"So can he come in and join the party, Buffy? Pleeease?" Dawn wheedled, shifting her weight from foot to foot.
Buffy sighed and met Spike's eyes, which remained heavy-lidded and unreadable. "No trouble from you? Of *any* kind?"
"No trouble," he said, and Dawn nodded enthusiastically. "Of *any* kind," he promised.
Buffy sighed and stepped back, ushering him in with a sweep of her arm. Dawn squealed and applauded.
Dawn and Spike entered the living room arm-in-arm, Dawn skipping half from happiness and half to keep up with Spike's long-legged stride, while Buffy crept in behind them, cringing.
The room went silent for a moment as the Scoobies took in the vampire's arrival, most of the gang glancing from one to another to decide how to react.
A rustle of movement from the back of the room broke the tension. Tara made her way forward to meet them with, for her, remarkable self-possession, Buffy thought. "Spike, it's so good to see you. It seems like ages." She held out her hands to him gracefully, and he took them with the humble air of a suitor.
"Has been ages, ducks. Don' think we've talked since the night M'Fashnik tore up the place." He gave her a half-bow, and the shy girl smiled prettily. Willow stared, amazed, then shook off her shock and stepped up as well.
"Heyyy, Spike!" She tried for bubbly, but the break in her voice gave away her unease. "Glad you could make it. I know Dawnie's glad for, ah, some quality time..."
"Sure my invite just got lost in the mail, Red," he answered, eyes narrowed.
Willow chuckled nervously. "Yeah, well, I wasn't in charge of the guest list..." Her eyes unconsciously cut in Buffy's direction. "Good to have you back, anyways."
"So. How you doin'?" He asked, still wary.
"Good!" She pronounced. "Good. Well, except for the, the shakies and the night sweats, y'know, oh, and, and the drooling thing every time I walk into the Magic Box." She grinned weakly. "But I've done, I've done some big things lately, did 'em all by myself, no magic, an' that makes me so proud it makes me wanna keep doin' good, y'know?" Tara beamed at Willow, then glanced back to Spike.
"Yeah. Yeah, Red. I do know." Spike's voice was hoarse, and he covered his shyness by fumbling with a cigarette. Dawn cleared her throat and snatched the unlit butt from his lips, and he shrugged.
Tara bustled Willow away with a question about school, and over the crowd Buffy met Tara's eyes with a quiet look of gratitude. The witch smiled a silent acknowledgement, then turned her attention back to Willow.
"Harris." Spike stepped up to the other man.
"Spike." Xander's posture radiated hostility, and Anya rushed to press a glass of punch into Spike's hand.
"So. Anya got you jumpin' through hoops gettin' ready for the wedding?" Xander shrugged.
"You are still coming, right? You and a date?" Anya bubbled.
"I'm comin', yeah. A date - well, I'm still lookin' f'r what I did with that little black book when I moved into the crypt, darlin'. Hope it didn't get mixed in with Giles' stuff." Anya snorted, and Spike gave an evil grin. "Then again, hangin' out with the kinda birds I keep in my little black book might do Rupert some good." She nodded cheerfully, and even Xander unbent enough to grin.
Dawn sighed happily. She hadn't wrecked it. The party was going to be okay after all.
Much later, Buffy was in the kitchen putting together doggie bags of birthday cake for all the guests, preferring not to keep that much sugar in the house with an already excitable teenager, when she became aware of voices wafting in from the back porch.
Peeking around the curtains, she saw Dawn sitting hunched over on the back steps. Spike sat beside her, leaning back on his elbows against the porch landing and pulling lazily at a cigarette. He gazed idly up at the stars and sneaked surreptitious glances at the girl beside him as she talked.
Leaning against the wall, Buffy attuned her Slayer hearing to focus on their voices.
"...so she says, like, 'I'm sorry, Dawn.' And I just, I let her have it, Spike, I was so *mad*! I said she wasn't, that she didn't want to be here, she didn't ask to come back, she wanted to stay where she was, she'd rather be anywhere but here. And I ran out." Spike stroked her forearm, comforting. "I mean, I know it's my fault, y'know? I know she doesn't want to be around me, like, ever. But I, it's so much worse when she pretends to be nice to me, I wish she'd just yell at me and just, I don't know, just hate me..."
"Okay. Two things." Dawn turned to look at him, hearing the decisive note in his voice.
"First off, it wasn't your fault. She was determined, Niblet, up on that tower. An' she was determined before that, long before she ever saw you up there. Her last words before she led us off to find Glory were, I'll kill anyone who goes after Dawn. An' just before that, she asked me to promise 'er I'd protect you - an' it was just - understood - that protectin' you from any'a the Scoobies that got it in their 'eads to save the world at the last minute was part'a the promise. There was things goin' on when we were preparin' for war you weren't aware of, Little Bit."
He took in a drag of smoke, reached up and tweaked a lock of Dawn's long hair. "An' there's things goin' on with her now that you're not aware of either. Remember 'ow she was when she got back? All numb an' unfeelin'? Well, that's mostly passed - she's feelin' things - but she's drownin' in 'em, Niblet, she's strugglin' all the time 'cause her emotions are all over the place. An' she thinks it'd freak you out if you saw 'er like that, so either she hides it or - if she can't - she goes where you won't see 'er. Someplace safe for her to let it all out."
Dawn shook her head and started to speak, but Spike waved her down, smoke wafting from the cigarette with the motion of his hand.
"An' on top'a all that, a lotta those emotions that've broken loose? They're messy. They're dark. They're - inappropriate. So on top'a feelin' the things themselves, 'stead'a just acceptin' 'em, she feels guilty about feelin' 'em in the first place. Tries to punish 'erself for feelin' em. That's what made 'er pick that freak show she's at to work in, I think. An' when Warren mucked with 'er 'ead like that, he 'appened to hit on the exact sorest spot'a her psyche right now, so she was gonna let the cops punish 'er."
He rubbed lightly at Dawn's back. "But - look at me - I promise you, Dawn. Nobody - nothing - is gonna take her away from us again. Not like Glory did. I won't let 'em. Not while I can stop it 'appenin. I may fail - I may screw it up - I may get it all wrong, God knows I 'ave before, an' I did this time for sure. But I *promise,* I'll do everything in my power to stop 'er bein' taken away from us like that again."
Buffy saw Dawn turn to smile at him in the half-light.
"Spike?"
"H'm?" He stubbed out the cigarette on the step between them.
"I've been thinking. About this Social Services lady." Spike turned to look at her, but her face hid behind the curtain of her hair, unreadable.
"What about 'er?"
"If - if it comes right down to it? If they try to take me away?" She brushed her hair back to meet his eyes, a plea in hers. "Can I come stay with you? Hide out 'til I'm eighteen?"
He met her eyes seriously, giving the question its due weight.
"You know you're askin' a big thing here, right, Bit?"
"Yeah. I do. I know I'd be a pain and, and an inconvenience and I've got no right to ask at all. But -"
"But if it came right down to it. If they were gonna send you away from Sunnydale?" He stroked her hair. "Yeah. I'd hide you so you could stay here, Dawn. You'd hate it, I'd ride you hard on mindin' my rules. An' Big Sis'd still get the final say in the big stuff where you're concerned. But I'd let you stay with me."
She hugged him hard, and Buffy turned away, fighting to maintain her composure.
Even later still, after the supernatural party crashers had been dealt with and everyone was finally free to leave, Buffy saw everyone except Willow out at the door.
Spike was the last to go, and he shut the door and drew her down on the bottom stair. She looked at him in surprise.
"Just wanted to say, now that I've got you alone a minute..." He swallowed, and Buffy held her breath. "...I'm sorry I didn't get you a gift. Dawn came round too late with the invite, an' -"
She cut him off with two fingers against his lips. "You got me a gift."
"I did?" He looked puzzled. "W'l not screwin' up the party doesn't really count, luv..." Her head shook from side to side.
"I heard you. Out on the back steps, with Dawn." She looked down shyly, gave him a chaste peck on the lips. "*Best* gift."
"Oh." Spike considered this. " 'Ow much'a that did you hear?"
"Enough. Most of it, I think. I came in at Dawn saying she knew I hated her." Buffy's mouth twisted at the sound of the words.
"I never know if I'm doin' right with 'er, Slayer. I just - play it straight with 'er, most'a the time, an' hope she'll meet me 'alfway." He grinned. "An' she usually does, my girl."
"Yeah. She does." Buffy rose, pulling him to his feet along with her. "Goodnight, Spike."
He bent, kissed her cheek. "Many 'appy returns, luv."
And at the very latest, the Slayer trudged wearily up the stairs to her room, listening to the comforting sounds of the house and its inhabitants settling in for the night.
She sighed. Even with the party crashers, it had been a good night. A Scooby bonding experience. The only really tense moment had come when Dawn denied getting her a gift, lower lip sticking out in the Summers pout. But that too had passed without incident.
She opened the door to her room, and a squeak escaped her from the shock. Vaguely she registered the sound of Dawn's door opening behind her, and the familiar scent and feel of her sister standing behind her to peer over her shoulder.
Her room was completely redecorated.
The bed had moved at a right angle from its niche under the angled wall to rest where the low white bookcase used to sit. The bookcase had moved under the window, making a very convenient top step for anyone entering or exiting that way, and had been painted dark green. Her shabby antique dressing table had been replaced with a sleek, modern-looking wardrobe with long mirrors set into the doors.
The walls were painted a deep mulberry red shot through with pink veining like marble, and adorned with new pewter light sconces, fluted bulbs casting a warm, soft glow over the room. A curio shelf on one wall held her knickknacks, and framed family photos mingled with formal flower prints and small framed mirrors on the walls.
The bed was dressed in an elegant cream-and-gold on deep red floral comforter, and her stuffed animals had been replaced with coordinating throw pillows; only Mr. Gordo remained, resting in a place of honor against the pillows.
In place of her flimsy student desk sat an oversized armchair - chair-and-a-half, were they called? - covered in a stripe that picked up the colors in the walls and comforter. In the chair, loose-limbed and comfortable, sat her favorite bleach blond vampire, picking through a magazine from the small rack by the chair and trying not to look smug.
Buffy felt Dawn's hands on her shoulders. "Spike's and my real gift," she said softly. "We worked on it all day while you were at work. Tara helped me shop, and I even got Xander to help out rewiring the lights. Willow helped keep you busy and make sure you didn't come up here too soon."
"How - why -" Buffy broke off and hugged her sister, hard, half-laughing and half-crying.
"Happy birthday, Buffy," Dawn said, and Buffy drew back, wiping her eyes, to turn to Spike.
Who wasn't there anymore.
"Oh well," said Dawn. "Big Bad hates the mushy girly stuff, I guess."
"Never mind," Buffy answered, settling on the edge of the bed and stroking the pillows. "I'll find a way to thank him later..."