Father of the Brat

Disclaimer: I don't own anything affiliated with Buffy. It all belongs to Joss Whedon. I just borrow it. I'm not making any money from this, it's purely for fun.

Spike’s eyes flew open when he heard the door slam. For one brief moment, he was afraid that Buffy had left. The tension that had come with that thought vanished as he looked down at the woman nestled against his side. She had an arm wrapped around his waist and her head was resting against his shoulder. He started to close his eyes again before he realized that the door slamming could only mean one thing.

Dawn was home.

Gently, he pulled away from Buffy and carefully eased himself out of bed. As he reached down to grab his jeans, he took a moment to be grateful that he’d had enough sense to gather their clothes sometime last night after they’d come into the room. As much as he’d have loved to stay in bed with her, right now the more important thing was Dawn. He yanked a clean shirt over his head as he pulled the door open and strode out, shutting it quietly behind him.

He raised an eyebrow as he saw Dawn about to go into her room.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” he asked, just managing to refrain from using the word ‘bloody’ when he spoke. She jerked, startled, and he couldn’t help the small bit of satisfaction he got from knowing he had surprised her. But really, what was she thinking? Trying to sneak in. Sort of. As if Spike hadn’t done that before. Her surprise didn’t last for long and when she turned back towards him, her attitude was firmly in place.

“Gee, that’s funny. It looked like I was going into my room.” Dawn looked at him as if she thought he was a complete idiot.

“Not just yet, you’re not. In the living room. Now.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, her tone suggesting that she couldn’t believe he had just told her what to do.

“There’s nothing wrong with your hearing Dawn and I’m not going to repeat myself.” Spike said evenly before turning and walking into the living room without bothering to check if Dawn would follow. She gaped at him for a moment before she frowned and followed him into the living room.

“What?” she said, crossing her arms and stopping when she had gotten only a few feet into the room.

“Where have you been? I looked for you all night last night. Been worried sick.” As he said this, Spike almost congratulated himself. He thought he was doing a fairly good job of not losing his temper, even if it’d been a close one.

“Somewhere that is else.”

“Dawn…” Spike said this in a warning tone. Dawn sighed.

“Look I was at this poetry thing.” Spike stared at her in disbelief.

“This poetry thing?” he asked. He shook his head. Did she really expect him to believe that? Dawn rolled her eyes. What was the guy, deaf?

“Yeah, you know, like a poetry slam. It’s where—“ She was cut off by Spike.

“I know what a bloody poetry slam is.” Not that he was going to admit it but there’d been a brief period in high school when all he’d written in his free time was poetry. He’d been using it as an outlet to get over how pissed he was about moving to America. All of his poems had been a secret until he’d accidentally forgotten his notebook somewhere and a girl named Cecily had found it. And suddenly there had been talk (in a mocking British accent) about his “bloody awful poetry.”

He could’ve killed her.

He’d gotten over it though as the weeks had passed and moved on, completely leaving that behind him.

Spike gave himself a mental shake when he heard a familiar voice coming from the hall.
“Spike? Was that Dawn?” Buffy asked as she walked into the living room, wearing nothing but the button-up shirt he’d worn yesterday. She froze at the sight of Dawn while Spike was trying to fight the impulse to drag her back into the bedroom. Dawn’s eyes widened as she saw Buffy and then she spun back around to Spike.

“Worried sick about me huh? Looked for me all night? Right, I’m so sure. I mean really. I bet you had a hard time finding me in her pants.” Dawn sneered.

If he hadn’t seen the betrayal in Dawn’s eyes, if he hadn’t seen the hurt, Spike would’ve probably snapped at her. He saw that Buffy was holding herself back from going to Dawn and from saying something. Instead, Spike took a deep breath.

“Look, Dawn, the fact that Buffy and I…” He paused, unsure of what to say. “Just because Buffy and I slept together doesn’t mean we weren’t worried when we couldn’t find you last night. I know you’re hurt, but that doesn’t give you the right to speak to either of us like that.” Once again, Spike thought he was showing great restraint when saying this.
Dawn stared at Spike before switching eyes full of anger, hurt, and betrayal on Buffy who didn’t even flinch when she met Dawn’s gaze. Dawn stared at her a moment before looking at the floor and Spike took that as his cue to start talking again.

“So this poetry slam…where was it?” he asked. He still wasn’t sure if he believed her or not. And he didn’t know if that was part of the parenting thing or if it was just because they had gotten off to a bad start with the occasional fight once things had settled down. He just didn’t know.

“UC Sunnydale.”

Now Spike did raise an eyebrow. UC Sunnydale? “You were at the college?” he asked. Dawn narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah, what of it?” she demanded. Spike shrugged a bit.

“Nothing, I just find it hard to believe that you managed to make it to the college, sit around at some café, listening to poetry all night?”

“You calling me a liar? Because I’m not lying, pal. You can call up the café and check yourself or actually go to the freakin’ college for all I care. And, by the way, it’s called a bus.” Moron. she added silently. Before Spike could reply, Buffy spoke.

“Actually, Spike, I think Dawn’s telling the truth.” When he turned to look at her, she nodded. “There’s often poetry slams there. I didn’t think that someone Dawn’s age might be there but I probably should’ve. It’s rare but there are times where you do find someone from the high school there.” Spike nodded and turned back to Dawn.

“So you really like poetry?” he asked. It appeared he had more in common with his daughter than he thought. Dawn shrugged.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. I like a lot of different poetry. Like some of the old stuff…you know, Browning, Dickinson, and stuff like that. But I like newer stuff too. Like Robert Frost.” Spike smiled.

“Good choices.” was all he said. Dawn looked a bit surprised herself.

“You like poetry?” she asked. Spike nodded.

“Used to write it. You tell anyone I said that though and I’ll not only deny it, but I’ll have to kill you.” Dawn grinned.

“Yeah.”

“I will. Don’t think I won’t.” Dawn snorted.

“Sure, Spike.” Spike glared at her a bit.

“We’re off topic though. We’re going to have to set some rules around here.” Before Dawn could protest, Spike held up a hand. “Don’t start. Rules for the both of us.” Spike almost couldn’t believe he was doing this but after having his daughter on the streets for a night, there was no bloody way he was going through that one again. Dawn paused and considered this.

“Like what?”

“Let’s start with clothes. You’re going to start wearing clothes that actually fit. Nothing that looks painted on and nothing that looks like it’s going to fall off any second. I, in return, will start wearing colors other than black.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow at that. She couldn’t stop the remark that came from her lips. “The apocalypse must be coming.” Dawn turned and smiled a bit while Spike narrowed his eyes at her.

“That’s not all though. You’ve got to start reading something other than magazines. One non-school book a week.” He looked back at Dawn who thought about it and nodded. She was a fast reader so she knew she could finish a book quickly. “And I’ll read a book a week too.”
Again, Dawn nodded.

“You, uh, might want to start with 'Pride and Prejudice'. It’s pretty good.” She suggested. Spike smiled.

“Yeah, I read it when I was fifteen.” Dawn’s smile widened.

“I really liked Darcy.”

“Me too. Always liked that bloke.” His gaze lifted towards Buffy. “Always liked Elizabeth as well.” he said. Buffy glanced away. One side of Spike’s mouth lifted in a half smile before he turned back to Dawn. He didn’t notice Buffy slipping back into the bedroom.

“Think you can live with those rules?” he asked, looking down at her. Dawn shifted on her feet before she looked back up at him and nodded.

“Yeah. I can live with those.” She replied. She grinned as a thought occurred to her. “Hey, can I help you pick out your new clothes?”

Spike froze and suppressed a shudder as he thought of what it would be like to go shopping with a teenage girl. Some of the horror he felt at the thought must have showed on his face though since Dawn started laughing. He shook his head.

“Very funny. I can barely stand, I’m laughing so hard.”

“I thought so.”

Spike was about to say something when he noticed Buffy coming out of the room fully dressed. He paused and raised an eyebrow at her. Dawn turned and tilted her head to the side as she considered something. She’d been pretty ticked at the thought that Spike had just been lying when he said they were worried but she’d been able to tell by the looks on their faces that they really had been. And it’s not like she was blind. She’d seen the way that they had looked at each other when Buffy had come over for dinner and she’d seen the look on Spike’s face when he’d come back after walking her down to her car. She wasn’t stupid. Plus, she did like Buffy. So she figured it was cool for her and Spike to be together.

“I’ll just head to my room.” She said, already moving in that direction. Spike nodded as Buffy began heading towards the front door. As she passed him, he reached out and put a hand on her arm.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.” Buffy told him. She turned so she could look at him. “I have to, Spike.”

“Why?”

“Because this shouldn’t have happened. Because last night was—“

“Don’t even think about telling me that last night was a mistake.” Spike practically growled. “It wasn’t. We’ve got something here, Buffy. You and me. You can’t deny that.”

“No. I can’t. But I can make sure that nothing happens between us again.” She shook her head before Spike could say anything else, pulling her arm from his grasp and backing towards the door. “I won’t deny that I enjoyed last night. We’d both know I was lying. But it won’t happen again.”

“The hell it won’t.” Spike retorted. Buffy shook her head, putting her hand on the doorknob as Spike took a step towards her.

“Don’t call me again unless there’s an emergency with Dawn.” She told him softly. Spike stopped and Buffy saw the hurt that crossed his face at that. But this is the way it had to be. “I’m sorry, Spike.”

Turning, she walked out the door, leaving Spike staring after her as she left him. A determined look crossed his face to mix with the hurt.

He wasn’t letting her walk away from him. Not a chance.