Dawn heard anxious rapping on the door. "Let me in, niblet, befor I'm dust on your doorstep!"
Dawn didn't hurry to the door, but she did open it. "Next time, come visit us during your regular buisness hours."
"Well, I wanted to see you," Spike said, hanging the smoking blanket on the Summers coat rack.
"Me? Why?" Dawn ignored him and went and sat down on the couch.
"Thought, since the Slayer is probably knocked out, you could use a little, uh, company."
"Yeah, sure, whatever. Hungry?"
Spike smiled and nodded.
"Hm, what to eat, what to eat?" Dawn leasiurly strolled to the kitchen, digging through the pointless amount of food stored away in the refringerator.
"Got any... candy?"
"No, Buffy ate it."
"What about... Cookies?"
"No, Buffy ate it."
"Pudding?"
"Buffy."
"What do you have to eat then?"
"Apples and ice."
"Give me an apple."
"You're seriously hungry enough to eat an apple?"
"Yeah, I'm out of money. Butcher won't give me blood with a decent bushle of cash."
"I see. Thirsty?"
"Got Kool-Aid?"
"Buffy drank it."
"Milk?"
"Buffy drank it."
"Apple juice?"
"Buffy."
"Well, what do you have then?"
"Water out of the faucet."
"Not that thirsty, luv."
"Me neither." Dawn emerged from the kitchen, tousing him a green apple. She held a golden one.
"Right, I get the green one. Don't I feel special."
"I could have given you the bruised one."
Spike gave her a scowl and then sat down on the couch, kicking up his heels to rest on the coffe table.
"Hey, Dawn, do you, uh, wanna go to the Bronze tonight?"
"Why are you asking me this?"
"Well, I haven't, uh, seen you up there, uh, lately, so I, uh, thought you might be in need of some fun."
"Yeah, sure. Pick me up at eight?"
"At eight."
Spike got up, throwing his apple core on the table. He grabbed his blanket, opened the door, and started smoking. He ran back in, panting. "Uh, Dawn?"
"You can stay here 'til eight."
"Thanks." Spike sat down and watched cartoons with Dawn, feeling better than he ever had in his entire unlife.
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