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Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground	By : cousinjean Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Het - Male/Female > Buffy/Spike(William) > Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 2581 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS) or Angel, the Series (AtS); nor any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
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Dead Leaves & the Dirty Ground

by cousinjean

Chapter Five - When I Hear Your Lips Make A Sound

RATING: R
PREVIOUSLY: Spike & Dawn made plans. Lilah helped. Wesley let her, but he didn't like it.

A/N: Title from the White Stripes. Same song as main title, different lyric.

~*~

Dawn stared at the legislative branch chart in her American Government textbook. She must have read the same square at least twenty times between glances at the clock. "'Just study and do well and don't think about it'," she mimicked. "Easy for him to say." She picked up the phone to make sure it was working, then sighed as she hung it back up.

"Okay Dawn, focus. Just because you're rescuing your sister from hell tonight doesn't mean your test tomorrow will just go away." Satisfied with her pep talk, she placed her finger under the first word on the chart and started to read aloud. "The legislative branch is made up of the Senate and the House of-- oh, thank God!" She jumped up to answer the door. "I was starting to think maybe you'd changed your mind or something," she said as she pulled the door open. "Oh."

"'Oh'?" Xander stepped into the room. "That's the best I get? 'Oh'?"

"Sorry. It's just� I thought you went home."

"I did. But I had to come back today to meet with a client. While I'm here I thought I'd see if you and your roommate wanted to go out to dinner or something."

Dawn forced herself to smile. "Thanks. But Adrienne's at the library, and I have a big test tomorrow."

"Yeah, but I figured a break would do you good. We won't stay out long." Xander hovered in the doorway, keys in hand, waiting for her to move. When she didn't, he shoved his hands in his pockets and slumped against the door frame. "Call me wacky, but I'm sensing that you have other plans."

"Yeah, actually. Spike's coming over."

"Oh, sure. He ignores all my invitations to go hang out, but you he has time for."

"Xander�"

He waved a hand to cut her off. "I'm kidding. I know you two need some quality time. That's why I won't invite myself along."

Still smiling, Dawn leaned forward to hug him. "Thanks."

"No problem. I'm just glad Spike's not sitting in the dark somewhere, brooding about� y'know." Xander squeezed her. "Hey, you don't suppose Adrienne would want to go to dinner anyway."

Dawn giggled as she let him go. "Her boyfriend probably wouldn't like that."

"No, of course he wouldn't." Xander sighed. "Maybe I can go pester Angel or something."

"That's always fun."

"Heh, yeah, and if I catch him while he's busy it'll be even funnier. Especially if he tries to be polite."

Dawn forgot herself and laughed. Then the phone rang, and she froze, remembering what she was going to do tonight. "I'd better get that," she said.

"Right." Xander backed out of the room. "You and Spike try and have fun tonight." Sadness filled his good eye as he looked at her, and Dawn suddenly felt bad. This anniversary was hard for him, too, and he shouldn't be alone. But if she and Spike succeeded, this day would become a day to celebrate. Xander shook his head. "God knows you both need it." With a wave, he shut the door behind him. Dawn ran to the phone.

"Hello?"

"Got everything. Can't fit it all on the bike. Mind picking me up?"

"Yeah," said Dawn. "I mean, no. I don't mind. I can be there in 20 minutes."

"Right. See you then." Spike hung up.

Dawn set the phone in the cradle, then took a moment to breathe as the enormity of what they were about to do washed over her. In a matter of hours, if everything worked like it was supposed to, she'd have Buffy back. And then this whole year really would be nothing more than a nightmare.

***

Dawn sang "I'm Just a Bill" to herself as Spike walked in a large arc, drawing the protective circle. It seemed funny to him, pouring colored sand on top of yet more sand, but at least he wouldn't have to worry about cleaning it up afterward. "Got the candles?"

"Yeah." Dawn followed him, placing and lighting pillars at each of the four compass points. When they finished, they both stood back to examine their handiwork. Dawn chewed her lip. "Maybe we should've gotten Willow for this."

Spike shook his head. "The fewer involved, the better. You wouldn't be here if there was any way to do it without you." He stepped inside the circle and found the center, then sat down and spread the ancient pages out before him. He glanced at Dawn. "Coming?"

She looked at their surroundings. "You sure this is the right place?"

Was he sure. Like he hadn't seen it every night in his dreams. He only nodded.

"One patch of desert looks like the next to me." She made no move to join him.

Spike stared at her, long and hard. "Nibblet," he said gently, "if you've changed your mind--"

"No!" She stepped inside the circle and came to kneel a few feet across from him. "I just needed a minute."

"Right." Spike took some rune stones out of the bag he carried. He handed some to Dawn, and together they encased the pages inside another, smaller circle that stretched between them, about four feet in diameter.

"So, that's it?" asked Dawn. "You don't have to say anything?"

"Nope. Magic's locked inside the pages. All we need now's the Key." He drew out an ornate dagger, its sterling surface reflecting the moon and candlelight. He paused to consider the knife; then he looked Dawn in the eye. "It's not too late to change your mind."

She shook her head and extended her arm. "Do it."

He took hold of her wrist and guided her hand over the first page, letting the blade rest against her palm. "Listen, Bit. Something goes wrong, it's all on me. You're just here as an ingredient. I want you to remember that."

She stared at him a moment, swallowing hard. He could feel her pulse racing under his thumb. Finally, she nodded.

He tightened his grip on the dagger, but paused again. "And if something comes out of that portal other than Buffy, you run like hell and lock yourself in the Jeep while I fight it."

"I could help fight. I'm not a total virgin, here."

Spike raised an eyebrow.

"Slay-virgin," she clarified.

"Yeh, well� either way, run. I can't fight well if I'm worried about protecting you."

"Fine. But what about Buffy? What if she's� what if she can't fight?"

Spike pursed his lips. "If you can, take her with you. I'll draw off the beastie while you get her to safety."

"Sounds like a plan," said Dawn.

"Right, then." Without further ado, Spike drew the blade across the fleshy part of her palm. She hissed, sucking air in through her teeth, but made no other sound. It took a moment for the blood to well up. Spike tilted her hand and guided it, letting a few drops land on each page.

When it was done, he released her. She cradled her hand against her stomach and watched, expectant. After a moment she asked, "Are you sure we did it right?"

"Uh� hang on." Spike drew the file from his bag and double-checked the ritual. "Yeh, that should've� hold up. Something's happening." He and Dawn leaned in over the pages until they almost butted heads. Her blood started to seep into the pages, into the words, bright crimson overwriting black until it got to the last letter on the last page, then starting all over again in a bright, golden, white, until all of the pages glowed. Then, starting from the center, the letters began to swirl.

A pinpoint at first, as the center letters spun they drew in more and more of their neighbors, a pinwheel of ancient text opening up a void, spinning round and round until the entire area inside the runes was a gaping hole in the earth. An eerie, reddish-purple light illuminated the edges, then shot up out of the hole into the sky, knocking Spike and Dawn back.

Dazed, Spike rolled over and got to his feet, then ran around to help Dawn to hers. They stared up at the vortex. It widened as it reached for the sky, like a tornado of evil light. It sounded like a tornado, too; or like a freight train, at any rate, but that was what everybody always said tornadoes sounded like. The ground shook, sending them both sprawling on their asses.

"How do we stop it?" Dawn screamed over the din.

"We have to stop the bleeding," Spike shouted back as he crawled over to her. He tore off his outer shirt, wadded it up, and pressed it to Dawn's palm. He held it there, keeping a wary eye on the portal in case anything came out of it. Then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Some distant part of his mind observed how it looked just like in Raiders of the Lost Ark, the way the vortex reversed and sucked itself back into the ground inside the circle of runes. And when it was gone, a figure lay curled up in the circle. Small. Human.

Female.

They stared for a moment in stunned silence. Then Dawn exclaimed, "Buffy!" and started to rush forward.

Spike grabbed her and held her back. "Let me make sure," he murmured, still dazed by the whole thing.

The woman in the circle lay with her back to him. She moaned and stretched out as he crept toward her. She was clad in skins cobbled together from various animals. No, wait. Demons. Her hair was a wild mass of tangles.

Spike knelt behind her and rolled her onto her back. He let out something between a choked sob and a laugh at the sight of her face, then scooped her into his arms and cradled her to him. Dawn ran to them then, dropping to her knees beside them.

"Her hair," she said, resting a hand on her sister's head. Not a trace of the familiar golden blonde remained in Buffy's long tresses.

Spike blew out a long breath as the implication hit him. "How long were you there, Pet?" He stroked her hair back from her face. She was filthy, with mud caked in the creases, but she didn't seem to have aged any.

Another moan, then a gasp, and her eyes flew open, darting around wildly at her surroundings.

"Shhh, Buffy, shhh. It's okay." He laid her back on the ground, grabbing hold of her wrists to keep her from struggling.

"Doesn't she know us?" Dawn asked, sounding very much like a frightened little girl. He couldn't blame her for being scared. She'd heard the stories, same as him, about how Angel was when he'd returned from hell. But he'd gotten better. That was the main thing.

Spike caught both of Buffy's hands in one of his, and stroked her face with the other, hoping to calm her. "Buffy, look at me. Do you know me? Do you know who you are?"

Her eyes narrowed, full of mistrust as she looked up at him. Then they widened with recognition, and tears welled up in them. It was all the confirmation he needed. He loosened his grip on her hands. She slid one out and raised it to his cheek. Placing his hand over hers, he buried his face in her palm. He knew he was crying, making a sodding fool out of himself in front of Dawn, but he didn't care. Buffy was here. She was touching him, and she knew him, and everything would be okay.

He registered the coolness of her skin against his, and for the first time realized how chilly the desert had become. "We should get her inside," he told Dawn, "get her cleaned up, let her get her bearings."

Dawn nodded. "I brought some clothes for her. They're in the Jeep."

At the sound of Dawn's voice, Buffy turned her head and reached out. Dawn took her arm, and she and Spike helped her to her feet.

"I'll bring the Jeep over," he said, reluctant to tear himself away from Buffy even for a minute. "We passed a motel a couple miles back; we can take her there." He let go of her, letting Dawn support her weight. Buffy leaned into her sister gladly and stared into her face.

"Dawn," she managed, her voice cracked and weak, like it hadn't been used in God knows how long.

Dawn smiled, and kissed her on the cheek. "Welcome back, Buffy."

***

Willow sat at her work station, chair pushed back, arms braced against the edge of her desk as she breathed hard, trying to figure out what had just happened.
When she'd woken up that morning and remembered what today was, she'd called in and claimed to be working from home, then she'd gone back to bed and tried to shut out world and memory by pulling the covers over her head. But instead she just played that final spell over in her mind, again and again, wondering what she could have done differently. If she could have stopped sooner. If�

But "if" was a huge waste of time, so she'd gotten up and decided to throw herself into her work. Spend the day on mind- and hand-numbing code and algorithms, the more complicated the better. When her apartment had become too suffocating, she'd moved to the office. She'd meant to stay late, but not quite this late. All her coworkers had gone home hours ago, the cleaning staff had come and gone, the overhead lights had gone out, and Willow had been oblivious to it all.

But this, she noticed. A change in the air, a crackling vibration of energy that she had always taken for granted before, until it was gone.

Willow leaned back in her chair and got her breathing under control. She looked at the pen lying on her desk. On a hunch, she focused on it. The pen lifted into the air, then stopped, hovering before her at eye level. She made it go higher, above the low walls of her workstation, where she made it do cartwheels in mid-air. Willow stood to watch it and saw that it wasn't alone. A pen or pencil floated above every workstation in the office, mimicking the movements of her pen. She realized she was smiling -- grinning like an idiot -- and laughed.

Then the implications hit her.

Willow sat down, hard, barely hearing the clatter of a hundred pens falling to their respective desks.

"Oh, crap."

***

Buffy kept silent on the way to the motel. Even when Spike went inside to arrange their room, she only stared out the window. Dawn sat with her in the back seat and talked enough for the both of them. She filled Buffy in on the last year, told her what the gang had been up to, what she'd been up to, what college was like so far. She also told how Spike had shut himself off from the world, refusing to stop until he'd found a way to save Buffy.

If Buffy heard any of it, she gave no clue. She never looked at Dawn, never reacted, hardly even blinked. A couple of times it seemed to Dawn that she even forgot to breathe. It reminded her uncomfortably of the last time, but then Buffy had at least asked a few questions. It's different this time, Dawn reminded herself. Buffy didn't die. For her, this was worse.

Spike returned and drove them to their room, a tiny bungalow in the back, as far from the other occupants as they could get. Once they were parked, he came around to open Buffy's door. "Still cold," he said as he took her hand to help her out. "Reckon a shower'll warm you up."

"Bubble bath," said Buffy.

Spike smiled. "Don't know about the bubbles, Love, but a bath it is." He tossed the room key to Dawn. "Can you get it started for her?"

"Sure." She opened her car door and grabbed the backpack she'd stashed behind the seat, then went ahead of the couple to open up the room and turn on the lights. They were probably dying for a minute alone together. Hell, probably for way more than that. She took her time in the bathroom, making sure the tub was clean and getting the water to just the right temperature before she filled it. Then she emptied the bag she'd brought, laying out the fresh clothes. She'd also packed makeup, hair products, and her favorite shampoo and conditioner, which also happened to be Buffy's favorite. She'd packed all this stuff partly for her own sake, not knowing for sure how long she'd be gone; but she'd also figured that Buffy would need to get cleaned up, and had wanted to make her sister as comfortable as possible.

Once the bath was drawn and everything was arranged, Dawn ventured out of the bathroom. Buffy sat on the foot of one of the double beds. Spike hovered nearby, not invading her space but not straying too far, either. That also reminded Dawn of the last time. He'd already emptied his pockets out onto the nightstand, and now he paced the length of floor between the beds, his nervous energy filling the room.

"Bath's ready," said Dawn. She stepped out of the way as Buffy got up and approached the bathroom. Spike followed her to the door.

"Need any help?" he asked.

Buffy turned around and looked from him to Dawn. Then she smiled, sort of, like she was trying to remember how. "I got it."

"Everything you need's in there," Dawn told her.

"Thanks." Buffy went inside and shut the door.

Spike and Dawn looked at each other, and suddenly they both blew out long sighs, as if they'd been holding their breath all this time. It made Dawn giggle.

Spike grinned. "What're you laughing about?"

"What do you think?" She rushed forward and hugged him. "We did it. She's really here."

"Yeh." Spike gave her a squeeze. "'Bout time, too."

"She seems okay," Dawn said, sitting on one of the beds. "Don't you think she's okay? I mean, considering."

He shrugged. "Thought so last time, 'til she finally told me otherwise. We'll have to wait and see." He stared at the bathroom door, like he was trying to see through it and make sure Buffy was all right. "Think we should wait on telling anybody," he said, finally turning his attention back to Dawn. "Let her make the call, when she's ready. Don't want everybody swooping in and overwhelming her."

Like last time, Dawn knew he meant, though neither of them said it. "Good idea. Let her get her bearings first." Spike nodded, but his thoughts were back on now. He started to pace in front of the bathroom door. He needed a distraction. They both did. Dawn hunted around until she found the TV remote. "Think this place gets cable?" she asked as she settled back on the bed.

"Bet she's hungry."

"Huh?"

Spike hardly seemed to hear her as he went to the nightstand to retrieve his wallet and keys. "You want anything?"

"What is there? Not much around this place."

He looked thoughtful. "Well, there's a Waffle House down the road. Or I'm pretty sure I saw a Super Wal-Mart not too far from here, had a McDonald's sign out front."

"A burger sounds fine."

Spike chewed his lip for a moment, then nodded. "Right. Won't be gone long. Will you be okay? If I go?"

"We'll be fine. Knowing Buffy, she'll still be in the tub when you get back. And my phone's in the Jeep. We can call you if we need anything."

"Right. Good." He started to go, but turned back as he opened the door. "You good, Bit?"

Dawn grinned at him. "Never been better."

He returned her smile. "Wash that hand soon as you get a chance. I'll pick up some clean bandages and stuff."

"Thanks," she said, but he was already gone.

Dawn turned her hand over to study the bandage they'd slapped on at the ritual site. Some blood had seeped through, despite the butterfly strips Spike had so carefully applied, and was already drying a crusty brown. Gross. She flexed her hand, expecting it to hurt worse than it did. Would it leave a scar? That could be cool. Hard to explain, though.

With a shrug, Dawn picked up the remote and quickly discovered how much the cable selection at this motel sucked. After about twenty futile minutes of trying to find something to watch, she tossed the remote aside and picked up Spike's lighter from the nightstand. She entertained herself by flicking it on and off, then left it on and passed her fingertip back and forth through the flame. She was about to test the flammability of a strand of hair when the bathroom door opened and Buffy emerged.

Dawn sat up. "Hey!"

"Hey," Buffy managed, but she just stood there in the doorway, looking uncertain as she rubbed her hands over the olive cargo pants Dawn had given her. "Wh--" She cleared her throat. "Where's Spike?"

"Oh, he went to grab us all something to eat. He should be back soon."

Buffy nodded.

Dawn got up from the bed. "You look a lot better." The pants and plain Gap tee-shirt weren't really Buffy's style, but Dawn thought they'd be comfortable, and they were a big improvement on that leathery, scaly thing Buffy'd had on before. With all the dirt scrubbed from her face she looked a lot more like her old self, even though her hair was only a shade or two lighter than Dawn's. She'd pulled it back and braided it into a plait that hung past her waist.

"How's my makeup?"

Dawn blinked, not sure she'd heard right. Then she almost laughed as she realized that Buffy had indeed made herself up. Only her sister would come back from a hell dimension and be so worried about her appearance. "It's fine. Just, your blush is a little dark, and you've got a little�" Dawn pointed at the corner of her own mouth, and Buffy's fingers flew to hers and started wiping. "Here." Dawn went to her and tried to wipe away the stray lipstick, but frowned. "We need a tissue."

"Guess I'm out of practice."

Dawn smiled. "It's okay, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it again in no time. This is an easy fix. C'mon, I can have you looking gorgeous by the time Spike gets back." She brushed past Buffy and into the bathroom. Realizing she still held Spike's lighter, she set it on the counter as she rummaged through the makeup bag. "You always wore warmer colors than these, but I'm sure we can make something work." Dawn glanced up at the mirror and saw that the bathroom behind her was still empty. "Buffy," she called, turning around, "are you com--"

Buffy stood right behind her.

Dawn's hands went slack, the makeup bag she held falling and spilling onto the floor.

"No, Buffy."

Buffy tilted her head and smiled. It would have been sympathetic if not for the fangs.

"Yes, Dawnie."

~*~
A/N the second: Hey, don't look at me just because you assumed that the dark part I was talking about in my first A/Ns was Buffy being stuck in hell.

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Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground

Dead Leaves & the Dirty Ground