Buffy the Vampire Slayer Preferences + imagines/one shots

Spike & Dawn - Babysitting

set in season 5, sometime between Fool for Love and Into the Woods 
(THIS IS NOT A SHIP IMAGINE)

"Look, Bit, I'll be straight with you. Uncle Spikey's not feeling his best, so would you be a pet and go up to bed? I know it's only ten, but, beauty sleep and all that. Yeah?"

Dawn searches his eyes and concludes that he's being genuine. He's not pulling some bull that Buffy would, when she just doesn't feel like spending time with her only sister. Her only sister, who, by the the way, is totally awesome. Although, Dawn is finding that harder to believe these days. 

"Yeah, Spike. 'Course. Hope you feel better soon."

His smile is grateful and almost makes Dawn blush. She disappears upstairs and softly shuts her bedroom door. Another night of being babysat by Spike, while Mom's in hospital and Buffy's out as always. She's fourteen, it's not like she'll burn the house down while making toast. Although, that almost did happen that one time, but that was one time.

As she changes into her pyjamas - sushi ones that used to belong to Buffy - she second guesses whether Spike is actually poorly. It's very probable that he's sick of her too. It would only be a matter of time.

She hopes, most of all, that Tara won't get tired of her presence. Although she would never say it publicly, Tara is definitely her favourite of Buffy's friends.

Spike is a close second, though. 

She ponders if vampires can even get sick as she tucks herself into bed.

Hang on. That's a good point.

Vampires don't get sick! He's lied to her face, like everyone else does in her life. She thought he was different. He never treated her like a child, like she was naive and didn't know a thing about magic or demons or what goes on in R-rated movies. 

How embarrassing that she thought he'd be any different. 

She throws the covers off but doesn't feel cold as she springs up and marches to the door. Despite being angry and hurt, and fully set on confronting the vampire downstairs, she opens the door quietly out of habit. Her footsteps are equally as quiet as she pads down the stairs. It might be good to make him jump anyway, she figures. 

But when she gets to the open living room door, her plan crumbles. 

Is he...?

He can't be.

The lights are off and it's tricky to tell but...

Nope, he definitely is.

"Spike?" The way she says his name is tentative but, although she doesn't mean for it to be, caring.

He turns his head to Dawn for a fraction of a second, as if to check it's her, but hides his face in his hands again. His voice is thick as he says, "Oh, Bit. Sorry, l-" she can hear him swallow, "Go upstairs, pet."

"What's wrong?"

She can feel her heart pick up. Spike doesn't cry. He's the big bad. Something must be really wrong. 

He sniffs, loudly, straightening his shoulders. "I'm being a bloody baby. Pay me no mind. Do you need anything? Water?"

Cautiously, like Spike could run away at any moment, she walks towards him. She sits next to him on the sofa and he shifts his hunched-over body away from her. 

"What's wrong?" she repeats and Spike sighs, but doesn't reply. "Has something bad happened? Is it Mom?"

"What? Oh, no. No, your mum's fine, pet."

"Oh, okay." She feels a pang of guilt for asking a question so self-centred. Of course, Spike has a life of his own, things to feel sad about that she hasn't even considered, although she could if he told her. Another stab of guilt when she realises he wasn't trying to get rid of her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He lets out  a choked laugh which sounds more like a sob. "You're too sweet." 

She would smile if she wasn't so worried. 

--------------------------------------

Spike won't look at her, but he knows she's looking at him. Probably all big, doe eyes, shiny with innocence and a care that makes him feel things he hasn't in such a long time. Is it dangerous that he's starting to care for the girl as if she were his own sister? 

He wipes his hand over his face again, until all the tears are gone. He's grateful that he no longer gets red and blotchy when he sobs. 

He doesn't want Dawn to see him like this. A pathetic mess, crying over her sister, the bleeding slayer. 

He shouldn't have tried to kiss her. 

He's ruined everything.

Dawn shifts, settling into the sofa. 

Of course, he can't tell her any of this. Can't confess that he's - through a cruel twist of fate - in love with Buffy. Can't tell her that the slayer thinks he's beneath her, that he's like all the other vampires she kills on a nightly basis. Maybe she's right.

Dawn is a child. He can protect her from the horrors of love and actually bloody caring about someone for a little while longer.

He opens his mouth to try and dismiss her again, but feels a small, warm hand on his shoulder. It takes all his might to not break down again. 

Their eyes meet, a small smile tugging on her lips. He can't help smiling back and, to his surprise, it isn't forced. 

He puts his hand over hers - it's so small - and says in a voice that is supposed to be stern but sounds more defeated than anything, "Dawn." 

"It's okay." 

Spike doesn't trust himself to say anymore without crying or confessing, so they sit like that in a comfortable silence. For ages. Her presence next to him gives the illusion that she actually cares but he can't believe it's true, even if part of him wants to. 

He senses her heartbeat start to slow and he dares to glance over. She's fighting to not close her eyes. 

He gets up and fetches a blanket, splaying it out over their legs. Dawn leans back and it only takes a minute for her to fall sound asleep.

She's such a sweet girl. 

After some time, the front door unlocks quietly and Buffy comes into the living room with a busted lip and frown. 

"Why isn't she in her bed? Did you let her stay up late again?"

He clenches his teeth. "Yeah. Sorry, slayer." he says, although it's not an apology, "Fell asleep during a film."

"I hope it was PG-13."

Spike rolls his eyes as he gets up to leave. He doesn't want to look at Buffy for longer than he has to.  

"Thanks." he hears her say softly as his foot is out the door. 

He pauses. Sighs. Turns back around. "I can patrol on Fridays. Spend some time with your sister, yeah?"

He doesn't wait for a response before leaving, thoughts of self-pity and anger for Dawn in his head. Sweet girl doesn't deserve this.