When In Rome: Little Fibbies
by Helga Von Nutwimple
A/N: Wow, thanks for the e-mail and reviews! I can't really answer most questions without giving away upcoming surprises, but... things will work themselves out.

I rewrote this a bit.

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"Goodnight, Giles."

"Goodnight, Xander, I..." Giles looked off into space for a moment, then shook his head, adjusting his glasses. "Pleasant dreams."

Xander stared at the Watcher's retreating back, the shadows of the cave swallowing him as his form receded. "Sure, yeah... you too..."

"He's hiding something," Xander muttered... then noticed his audience was gone.

"Hey, Will!"

She was heading down the right-hand corridor, her head bowed, her fingertips trailing along the rough stone at her side. Exhausted? Worried?

"Nobody tells me anything," Xander sighed.

He jogged up the passageway, catching her by the elbow. "Will. Hey. Hang on a second."

"Xander, I don't... I'm really tired..."

"I know. Me, too. I've just..." Xander turned her gently, trying to get her to meet his eyes. "You... you didn't tell us the whole truth, back there."

She kept her gaze on her shoes. "Y-yes I did..."

"Will, please. I know you. I can smell your little fibbies, okay? Spill."

Willow's lips twitched. "Remind me to get friends who haven't known me forever."

"Will... I saw your face. You looked... horrified. Way more horrified than you would have been if all you saw was Spike trying to help Buffy. So, what gives?"

"Xander. You... you don't want to know. Not this time."

"Um, hi, I think this is me harassing you? Obviously I do..."

"No, you don't." Willow crossed her arms, her fingers picking nervously at a seam on her jacket. "Look, Xander... the reason that door was nailed shut in Spike's memory was because Spike had it nailed shut. He had a... a spell done on him or something. He didn't want to know what he knew, and... and I can't blame him for not wanting to know. Honestly, I'm thinking about making myself forget it..."

"C'mon, Will, the man drank half of Europe and staked his own mother. What could be that bad?"

Willow sighed. "The... the reason Buffy needed help. The reason she's been... so lost."

"Because we brought her back from the dead! This is not new info! Will, we all feel guilty about that..."

"It wasn't her resurrection. I mean, we all thought it was, but... and that made it worse, yeah, but..." Willow sighed heavily. "Look, Xander. If you never had any memory of having your other eye... would you miss it?"

Xander paused, thinking it over. "I... don't guess I'd know what I was missing..."

"Right. Exactly. I mean, maybe you'd notice you didn't catch balls so great, maybe, but it wouldn't occur to you, y'know, 'Oh! What I need is another eye!', right? You'd have no concept of it."

"Where are you going with this, Will?"

"Okay, um, imagine you die, a-and you go to heaven. Suddenly, wow -- two eyes! And then... and then you come back here, and suddenly, now that you know what being two-eyed is like, you can... you can feel it, y'know? You can feel the empty place where the eye used to be. It'd be depressing... really depressing, right?"

"This conversation is depressing." Xander tapped his eyepatch. "Couldn't you have picked a different metaphor?"

"Right, yeah, I..." Willow suddenly smiled. "Xander? Take my hand."

"Look, I'm already about to go find a quiet spot and give myself some serious friction blisters, I don't think I can take another round of..."

"Shut up," Willow laughed. "What color do you want?"

"What color do I... what?"

"I don't know, I mean, why be normal? We could give you a blue one, kind of a cool two-toned thing, or maybe a nice red one, oooh, scare the kiddies, kind of a, y'know, Mad-Moody vibe..."

Xander stared, comprehension dawning.

"Unless you'd like to match," Willow grinned.

"I... I think I'd like to match."

"Fine. Be boring. Grab on."

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"Well, I guess that's the bonus of jet lag," Dawn giggled around a mouthful of toothpaste, watching the first colors of morning paint the world outside the hotel room window. "I'm on the same sleep schedule as the dead."

A low growl from the interior of the shower.

"Aw, c'mon, Spike, it's a road trip," Dawn teased. "Snacks, mix tapes... memory potions... gotta have the basics, right? Besides, just think of it as a sort of... after-school-special kind of warning. Don't take drinks from dangerous women."

"Y'know, between you, Zombie Wesley, and Illyria, I'd rather thought you were the least of my problems, Bit. Obviously, I'd forgotten. Maybe you ought to dose me up again, eh? Seem to be right fond of the hobby."

She heard the water shut off behind her; Spike pulled a towel into the shower with him with an angry snap.

"Y'know, you should think about growing your hair out," Dawn smiled. "Your crazy-in-the-basement hair was way sexy."

"You never saw my crazy-in-the-basement hair."

"That's what you think."

Spike's face popped out from behind the shower curtain. "That -- that was really you? I thought you were one of the creepy crawlies."

"What... you thought 'the First' would sit with you, bring you blood, eat a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich and ask you for advice about its History teacher?"

Spike stepped out of the shower, a towel around his waist, rubbing his hair with another. "Well, I can't imagine I gave you very good advice, did I? Wasn't my most Oprah moment."

"Actually, you did. You said it didn't matter, because the school was going to collapse into rubble. Which was true, wasn't it? And you sang. You have a nice voice."

Spike gaped at her, the towel hanging off his head for a moment before he went back to drying with a vengeance. "Buffy'd beat you brainless if she found out, y'know. How'd y'know I was down there, anyway?"

"Which is why I didn't tell her... duh... and hey, did you see how surprised I acted when you showed up? I should totally have tried out for the play." Dawn set her toothbrush down. "And... this dead cheerleader in the lunchroom told me."

Spike fixed Dawn with a glare. "Right. Now... one little question... did you come down to the basement in spite of the fact that I was bug-shaggin' crazy... or because of it?"

Dawn dropped her eyes. "Because of. I thought... I thought maybe, if you were really crazy, you'd..."

Spike hurled the towel down. "D'ya know what the best thing about bein' dead was, Bit? Not having this bloody conversation with you."

"Can't blame a girl for trying," Dawn said sheepishly.

"Oh, don't you bloody dare look all cute at me. I'll blame you all I want! Kick a man when he's down, why don't you? I go off my rocker and you jump me? Your concern for my mental health touches me deeply."

"I didn't really... jump you, so much... I... well... I did cut myself and hold the wound up to your face..."

Spike stared at her in undisguised horror. "Bit, you wretched bitch."

Dawn crossed her arms defiantly. "I want to help my sister. You want to help my sister. You know it would work."

"Nibblet..." Spike sighed wearily, sitting down heavily on the toilet lid, "I've told you and told you... I don't know any such thing. I was a big poesy-spoutin' poof as a human, and look what I turned into. Look what happens to Angel, look what happened to Dru..."

"Yeah, but..."

"Bit... I had to stake my own mum. You don't... you can't know what that did to me. I couldn't do it again, not to you."

"But..."

"I know you're biased, Bit. Can't say as I blame you. Angel, Anya, Clem, me... no wonder you don't take demoning proper serious. We're not the norm, love, not by a long shot. The norm is what your sister puts her life on the line to stake every night. The norm is everything that's ever kidnapped you, terrorized you, hurt you..."

Spike dropped his head, sighing. "I know you like my stories. You think they're ghost stories, and that's my fault -- that's how I tell 'em to you, innit? But those were real people I killed. Real people with feelin's and families and... pet dogs and heartbeats and things they wanted to be when they grew up -- d'ya get that? I ate babies, Bit. And I laughed while I did it."

"You turned into what you became because of Angelus and Drusilla. I'd be with you."

Spike caught her wrist roughly, pulling her to him. "No. Dawn, listen to me. I turned into what I became because I lost my soul and became a demon. Peer pressure doesn't cut it -- don't delude yourself. Five years ago, I'd have killed your sister. Gleefully. Do you understand that? Try to understand that. I love you, and I hope... I pray I'm a better person now, but..."

"We tried it your way! Why can't we try mine?"

"Because your way would destroy you!"

"Your way nearly destroyed you!"

Spike shrugged. "I deserved it."

"Spike... I shouldn't exist. Part of me knows it, part of me can feel that, it's... squirming in my brain all the time. All that damsel-in-distressing... me laying on the railroad tracks, going to your crypt in the middle of the night... don't you understand? I have a death wish, and I can't control it. My soul -- the part of Buffy's soul they took from her and stuck in me -- it knows it doesn't belong there. It's trying to get back."

Dawn sighed heavily. "It's... always trying to get back."

"I'm not vamping you, Bit. Don't you ever get tired of this little discussion? And that little restoration potion was a dirty little trick."

"You made yourself forget. I wanted you to remember."

"I wanted to forget! I wouldn't have had the bloody spell done if I hadn't wanted to forget!"

"She couldn't take what she needed from you, because what she needs, what she's missing, is in me! Spike, you think you care about me -- you don't! You care about her. That's all I am. Her. A part of her she needs back."

"And you're just so bloody sure that if you give up the bit of her soul you've got, it'll what, go sailin' across California and fly up her nose? If it wants to be whole so badly, why didn't it all... fly into you when she died?"

"She wasn't all the way dead. It's why Willow could bring her back... and not Tara."

Spike shook his head. "This discussion is over."

"Spike..." Dawn said quietly, "If you don't vamp me... I'll... I'll get another vampire to."

"Oh, you're going to, what -- walk into a vampire lair and ask 'em nicely?"

"If I have to."

"You'll be dead before the door closes."

"And Buffy will have her whole soul back. Mission accomplished, right?"

Spike growled.

"Spike... I don't want another vampire to bite me. I want you to do it. You told me... vampires are bound to their sires. I want to be bound to you, not someone else. I know you'll keep me safe, make sure I stay good..."

"And how am I supposed to do that, eh? Plant a chip in your head? Sorry, love, don't think they have 'em in your size at The Gap..."

"You got a soul! Why couldn't I get one?"

"I got my own soul back! You don't have a bleedin' soul of your own!"

"Aha! I got you to say it!"

Spike cradled his head in his hands. "Bit, shut the bloody hell up..."

"Maybe I could get another soul. Someone else's, someone who's not using it. I mean, there are thousands and thousands of vampires, right? That means there's thousands and thousands of souls just going to waste..."

"Bit, I've had a very bad day and you're makin' it worse. It's time for bed."

"Spike... Buffy will never be happy, never be whole, until I die. You tried to make her comfortable in the dark, it didn't work. You tried to replace what she was missing... it didn't work. I need to die, I-I want to die, but I... I'm scared of... not existing. You have the ability to free Buffy's soul and make me still exist. It's perfect."

"It's not anything even approachin' perfect, which is probably why I've spent four years sayin' no. I'm goin' to bed. Close your eyes, I'm puttin' pants on."

Dawn shut her eyes... then opened them, coming up behind Spike, sliding her hands around his waist. "Spike... I'm the part of Buffy you could never touch. I'm the part she gave to Angel, started to give to Riley, and could never give to you... because she didn't have it anymore..."

Spike shut his eyes painfully. "Bit... stop it."

She let her fingers play over his stomach muscles, dropping her voice to a sultry register. "I know you want that part of her. Need that part of her. And guess what? That part of her... me... loves you. Wants you. Always has. Always will."

"Bit, I don't want to hurt you, but I'm about to toss you clear across this bathroom..."

"You don't want to do that," Dawn whispered. "Spike... I love you so much. Put me back in her, and she will too. Love you the way she wants to. Love you the way she needs to."

"She loves Angel," Spike gasped, grabbing both of Dawn's wrists and holding them away from him.

"No, she doesn't. She did. She thinks she does... and of course she thinks that. It's the last time she was ever able to really love, with her whole soul. She can't feel as strongly about you as she did Angel, because she just can't feel that strongly. Not while I'm still alive..."

"Spike..." Dawn brushed her lips over Spike's shoulderblades, feeling him shudder. "... kill me."

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