Temptation

(A/N: Note that Dawn is 16 or 17 in the story - eventual teacher/student underage sex)

(co-written with Vikingprincess)

(The characters are not ours, they are Joss')


Getting to Heathrow airport had been an absolute bear. Spike cursed the entire way as bumper to bumper traffic delayed him and he worried about being late to pick up the new students. They'd probably come off the plane and panic if no one were there to greet them... strangers in a strange land. He knew all about that.

As he stood at the Gate, holding up a sign for Redondo Beach High School, he recalled how confused he'd been when he'd awakened on a cold floor, with no memories other than the sun burning him to ashes. The Watchers had come for him then, brought him to London... explained the miracle of shanshu.

What they hadn't been able to explain was his blasted memory loss. He'd scoured their books, read about his past... sometimes in horror, other times in disbelief. Maybe it was part of the gift... to forget.

Dawn wearily stood at last, stretching muscles that were cramped and sore from six hours of flight from California to New York City, and then another weary seven hours on top of it to get to Heathrow. She supposed she should be glad that Buffy had agreed to let her attend the exchange program in London this year, in spite of the fact that everyone was still trying to regroup and recover from the little matter of Sunnydale falling into a crater. Hell of a way to close a Hellmouth!

She supposed she had Giles to thank for where she was now, more than anything. He’d argued that she should have her chance to live a non-Slayer-shadowed life, and that guilt card had played pretty well on Buffy, who always wanted to protect Dawn from herself and the things that went bump in the night.

But that wasn’t all there was to it. Giles and Dawn had kept a small, little secret from Buffy. Dawn was starting Watcher training, there in London, along with her normal junior year studies. It was time for Dawn to stop being someone’s little sister, and take a shot at being Someone, herself. Besides, she had more practical experience than most of the Watchers’ Council, let alone the junior watchers! Giles had asked her to shake them up a little.

Finally, she got off of the plane with her fellow transplanted Californians, and spotted a scholarly type in a dark blue blazer and cool purple shirt, with a classier tie than she would have expected, holding up a sign with their high school’s name on it. Brownish hair with blonde streaks all through it was neatly combed back, but she couldn’t get a good look at him, with the crazy Heathrow crowds milling all about. Plus, hello, jet lag! It was hard to focus on anything much at the moment! “Guys,” she said, tugging on Jeanine’s sleeve, “Over there.” The herd moved through the horde to their pick-up guy.

Spike raised his hand and waived the chattering kids over. "Come on then, this way." There were four of them, two girls and two boys. He eyed their luggage, wondering if it would all fit into his boot, or whether they'd need to make other arrangements.

Dawn shifted her backpack from her shoulders to ride atop her roller suitcase. As she did, her purse slid from her shoulder to the floor. "Oh, man," she grumbled, turning and bending at the waist to snatch it up from the tiled floor. Jeanine sniped, "That thing falls off every time you move, Dawn. Come on, already! I'm starving!"

Spike's gaze unwittingly slid down long legs that had obviously seen the California sun. Tanned. Smooth. Dragging his gaze away, he looked at the rest of the group. "Right... if we're lucky, I should have you to the dorms in an hours or so. But if we're not, be prepared for a three hour ride. And... welcome to Old Blighty.”

Dawn straightened again. That voice sounded awfully familiar! But she'd been listening to Giles for years, Spike too, so it wasn't too surprising that an English-accented voice made her feel less far from home. Slinging her purse strap across her shoulder again, she turned back toward the group, starting to say "I vote for the one hour option, thanks." But she never finished the phrase, never even really started it, once she got a first good look at the teacher who was there to meet her group.

Wide pale blue eyes locked onto bright blue ones, darted wildly across chiseled cheekbones and pale sun-starved skin, took in the strong graceful body covered in a classy suit, and the slightly longer, slightly curling hair, with a few familiar streaks of platinum blonde still frosting the browner strands. "Sp-Spike?"

He was rushing the others along but turned at the sound of her voice and raised an eyebrow. "I forgot to introduce myself, but it seems you're well informed. Do call me Mr. Spike or Mr. William at the school. Though they are a bit informal in that they've done away with surname requirements..." he spread his hands. Something was vaguely familiar about her, and it wasn't the look he'd sneaked at her legs.

“Don’t you—“ She’d started to say, remember me, but years of practice in hiding Slayer stuff from the world outside of their home kicked in. “—Know our names yet? I mean, come on, only four to learn, right?” She pasted a sunny smile on her face. “I’m Dawn, the cranky hungry one is Jeanine, and those’re Paul and Josh. Hi… Mr. Spike.” He’s alive, he’s alive, omygod he’s alive, why didn’t Giles tell us he’s alive?

"Why is it all you Americans choose Spike over William?" he gave her a half smirk. "Unfortunately, due to an administrative fuck-up... pardon my French... they didn't get the list to me yet. Nice to meet you. This way to the car park," he sheparded them along.

Dawn. She couldn't be that Dawn, could she? Sister to the Slayer. Someone he'd reportedly been close to... protected... been a father or a brother to? Stealing a glance at her bright face peering through a curtain of dark hair, he was quite sure he could never have had familial feelings toward her. This was going to be a bloody long semester.

Dawn giggled a little giddily, partly from jet leg and partly from the mind-numbing astonishment at seeing Spike! Alive! "I guess it's more memorable, Mr. Spike," she said. "Where does that nickname come from, anyway?" She followed along, long legs propelling her past the other kids, who had more bags anyway. Morning sun was starting to dapple the cars outside. She hoped the car park was covered!

His mouth flattened for an instant as thoughts of where he'd gotten the nickname came to mind, but he shrugged them off. "I'm quite sure there's good reason for the name, but I'll let you figure it out for yourself."

He pretended not to hear the snicker from Jeanine as she whispered something that had to be quite lewd to her fellow classmates. However, he did notice Dawn turning... and the way her cheeks flushed. She couldn't be that Dawn... she'd better not be. Nah... she would have said something.

Lengthening his strides, he started to cross the street to the car park.

Dawn's hand snapped out and caught Spike by the wrist before he could step into the weak, but still deadly, morning sunshine that gilded the London streets outside of Heathrow. "Are you crazy," she hissed. "You can't just walk out there like that!" Through the fog of panic at losing Spike just when she'd found him again, lack of sleep, jet-lag, and all the other assorted wearinesses of long travel, a curious sensation penetrated through her grasping fingers.

His wrist was... warm! "Oh my God," she breathed in wonder, her clutching turning to a caress, sliding her hand into his and lifting it before her eyes. "You... you Shanshued! Oh, Spike!" Sheer exuberance danced in her eyes, and she squeezed his hand tight in hers, then let go, all before the other students came up beside them to cross the street. This was, like, the best news ever!

Her hand slid across his skin and sent messages skittering through his system. This was unreal. He got a grip on himself only long enough to process her words... she knew him... she knew him. It was that Dawn....

For a long moment, he stared down at her. Hoping... hoping he'd remember, because if he remembered, surely this madness would stop. As his pulse kicked up a notch, he dragged his gaze away. Breathless, she stared back, hoping for… she didn’t know what. "I've had an accident. I can't remember much of my past," he explained in a low voice, then reached the car and opened the boot... stepping back as the kids hauled their stuff inside. "Mind you stack them right so they'll fit."

Dawn flung her bags into the trunk --boot-- not caring if they were smushed by the others' luggage. "Shotgun," she stated in a tone that brooked no argument. Being the Slayer's little sis had definitely kicked up her stubborn factor, and the boys already knew that arguing with her was an exercise in futility. And she was going to get to know this new Spike before he could get fucked in the head by Buffy! Jeanine pouted briefly, until she realized she'd be sandwiched between Paul and Joshua in the back seat. She circled to the right side of the car, blushed, and went to the actual passenger side, on the left, instead. Spike didn't remember... but he knew some things, that was clear. She opened the door and sat down, crossing her legs and smoothing her short skirt into place, waiting for the others to enter the car.

From inside the car, he made the mistake of looking over to the passenger side... where her hand was smoothing her skirt... brushing against firm tanned thighs. Fuck... his body was reacting. Wiping his hand over his face, he let out a breath.

Dawn shook her hair back over her shoulders, and recrossed her legs in the opposite direction, thighs now canted toward Spike instead of away. Open body language. She reached back for her seatbelt, arching her back a bit to reach it, and looked over at Spike as she clipped it closed between them. "An hour drive, huh?" Hair fell into her eyes, and she stroked it back again. "Gonna educate us, Mr. Spike?" She paused. "About London?"

God help him, he wanted to educate her.

Biting his lip, he looked in the rear view mirror and pulled away from the curb. As he shifted, he was extremely aware of how close his hand was to her knee... even thought he felt heat emanating from her.

No. He had to get a hold of himself. He had to. Clearing his throat, he kept up a light banter for the rest of the way, describing the location of the school, what they might expect, and a bit of history.

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