"Thank God," Dawn muttered, rolling her eyes as she opened the passenger side door to Tara's car, almost before it had stopped rolling into the driveway. "I couldn't stand another minute in that house with *her*."

The distasteful, resentful way she said the last word was slightly amusing, but more than a little unsettling to Tara. Amusing, because in a way it sounded like such a typical reaction of a teenager to their older sibling, especially an older sibling who had been thrust into a position of authority over her.

But on the other hand -- the things Tara knew about Buffy made Dawn's desire to be away from her more than a little troubling in her mind.

*Buffy would never hurt Dawnie,* she told herself firmly. *Spike -- Spike was different -- Buffy thought she could get away with it because he's a vamp -- but not Dawnie. She *died* to save Dawnie, there's no way she'd...*

"Well -- you're quiet."

Tara shook herself out of her thoughts, glancing up at Dawn for a moment, and then back to the windshield -- almost surprised to see that she had already started driving in the direction of the movie theater on Main Street.

"Sorry, Dawnie," she said with a soft, apologetic smile. "Just -- drifting, I guess. I've got -- a -- a lot on my mind, lately." She laughed ruefully as she glanced at the girl again, meeting her eyes for just a moment before focusing her own back on the road. "Guess I need this movie night as much as you do, Hon."

"Looks like," Dawn grinned, glancing back at the windshield. She paused for a moment, silent, before glancing back at Tara hesitantly. "You know you could -- talk about it. If you want to." When Tara did not look at her, she shrugged slightly, going on, "I mean -- you're always sitting there listening to *my* problems -- I just want you to know -- I mean...I know I'm just a kid, but...I can be a pretty good listener..."

Tara smiled at her again, a little sadly, as she sighed, "Maybe someday, Dawn. Not -- not today, though..."

Dawn studied her expression for a moment longer before nodding her acceptance and looking straight ahead again. "Boy, we're just a barrel of laughs," she remarked dryly after a moment.

Strangely, it was that comment that managed to pull a genuine giggle out of Tara, and it was her answered, mildly sarcastic, "Aren't we always?" that brightened Dawn's expression, as she smiled and shook her head in good-natured defeat.

This was the third time since Spike had left town that Tara had come by the house to pick Dawn up, taking the younger girl out somewhere fun and relaxing, where she could just get away from the house -- from her sister -- for a little while. Tara did not actually come inside when she came to pick her up, not really wanting to come face to face with Buffy any time soon.

The first time, she had called Dawn from her cell phone and told her to come outside.

The other two times, Dawn had been waiting, out the door before she even had time to call. Slightly suspicious, Tara had asked Dawn if Buffy even knew she was going at all, and Dawn had informed her flatly that Buffy didn't really seem to care what she did lately. She had told her older sister that she was "going out" and Buffy had barely acknowledged her with a nod, let alone asked where she was going.

Tara decided that it was just as well, as she really didn't want to face Buffy, and Dawn clearly needed a little companionship.

"Did you like the movie?" Tara asked the younger girl as they walked out of the theater a couple hours later.

Dawn shrugged. "I guess."

Tara was silent a moment, before asking a second question, a sort of wry, almost sad amusement in her voice. "Do you even remember what it was about?"

Dawn glanced up at her, mildly surprised that the older girl had noticed her distraction, before shrugging slightly and responding, "There were people. I'm -- pretty sure there were people." She nodded with exaggerated thoughtfulness, as she added, "And there might have been a talking dog. Was there a talking dog?"

Tara grinned at her as they made their way across the street to the little outdoor burger stand where they usually got milkshakes after the movie. "Yes," she nodded. "There was a talking dog."

"Good," Dawn sighed with relief. "I was afraid for a minute there I might be actually losing my mind."

"What's wrong?" Tara asked, as they sat down at a small circular table with a large sun umbrella over it. "I mean -- besides the usual unpleasantness lately. You seem like something specific is bothering you today."

Dawn was quiet for a moment, opening and closing the paper menu that neither of them would be using, staring at it intently, a slight frown of thought creasing her brow.

"I don't know," she finally shrugged. "It's just -- I want to think that everything's all right -- but something seems -- off lately, you know?"

"With Buffy?" Tara asked, cautiously seeking clarification. If that was what Dawn meant, then she was pretty sure that she understood.

"Yeah," Dawn nodded, still not looking at her. "I mean -- you know she's been weird ever since -- since she came back. But -- lately it's -- different."

"Different -- how, Dawnie?" Tara pressed her gently when she stopped talking, a fearful fluttering beginning in her stomach as she silently prayed that her assumptions about Buffy not being willing to hurt her sister had been right. "What do you mean?"

"Well -- this past week -- it's like she doesn't even realize I'm here, you know? She's so -- distracted, and -- just weird..."

"Upset?" Tara suggested, frowning. It would make sense if Buffy was upset, she thought with a flare of righteous anger, considering that she'd just lost her favorite punching bag.

"No," Dawn shook her head as she slowly replied. "Actually, not upset at all. She almost seems -- happier. It's just -- she used to always be so strict, so protective, about what I did, where I went. Now it's like -- she doesn't even care. I try to talk to her, and she gets all evasive, and she's got this like...weird smile..."

"Weird smile?" Tara echoed, puzzled -- and increasingly concerned.

"Yeah," Dawn nodded, finally meeting her gaze. "I know that sounds funny -- but it's almost like -- she's not really listening to what I'm saying, what I'm saying doesn't really matter -- 'cause she's got this secret thing that's got her always going around humming and happy and stuff. It just -- has nothing to do with *me*."

Tara felt her heart soften even further toward the girl at those words. Although Dawn was obviously not quite expressing herself as well as she wanted to, Tara understood what she was saying. Although Dawn had often complained about Buffy's strictness before, it seemed that now, she missed being the focus of her sister's world.

And Tara could not help but wonder, with a strange sense of foreboding -- what had recently taken the girl's place at the forefront of her sister's mind?

"You know," Dawn went on softly, almost as if she had read Tara's thoughts, "I never thought I'd actually *miss* her whole over-protective act, you know? It always made me mad before when she'd tell me I couldn't go here or I couldn't do that..." She paused, swallowing hard, an expression of pain in her eyes as she added just above a whisper, "Now...I just wish she cared *what* I did -- you know?"

Tara nodded, reaching a sympathetic hand across the table to cover Dawn's.

"I care, Dawn," she reminded her simply. "I -- I know it's not the same -- not nearly good enough -- but I *am* here for you."

Dawn gave her a grateful smile, blinking back tears in her eyes, before looking down and replying softly, "Thank you. But -- I guess you're about the only one who is, lately. Buffy's all -- weird, and Xander and Anya are all with the wedding plans...Giles left, and Willow..." She glanced sharply up toward Tara apologetically. "...sorry..."

"It's okay," Tara shook her head, dismissing the remark with a smile that was a bit forced, although it did not look it to Dawn. "Go ahead..."

"Well...everybody's got their own stuff going, except you. Even Spike..."

Tara frowned slightly, looking up at the girl sharply, wondering how much, if anything, she knew about the situation. "Spike?" she repeated leadingly.

"Well, I guess he finally up and left." Dawn's voice sounded tired and dull, and she was staring listlessly at the table again. "Guess he got tired of Buffy ignoring him and all, and once it sank in that she was never gonna give him a chance, he had nothing left to stay here for."

The hurt was obvious in her voice, the underlying statement being that she had *thought* that she might have been something he cared about enough to keep him there. Tara's heart ached, longing to let Dawn know that he had not left out of a lack of concern for her -- that he'd really had no choice; it had been a matter of survival.

"Dawn -- maybe he had a good reason," she shrugged, careful to keep her voice calm and even, trying not to give too much away. "I mean -- you never know what might have made him decide to go..."

Dawn's eyes suddenly shot up to hers, narrowing slightly in suspicion. "Do *you* know why he left?" she asked point blank.

Tara cursed her complete and utter lack of any kind of poker face, feeling her heart sink as her face flushed, self-conscious. "O-of course n-not," she stammered, looking away from Dawn's piercing gaze. "Why would I know?"

"First of all -- you were *so* not surprised when I said he'd left town," Dawn pointed out, sitting up and leaning across the table, with the first spark of excitement in her eyes that Tara had seen that day. "And second -- you are *not* a good liar, Tara. Or even a good liar-by-omission. You know something -- don't you?"

But Tara suddenly looked distracted, thoughtful, a slow frown forming on her face as something Dawn had said began to register with her. "Dawnie -- what makes you think he left town?" she asked softly, a troubled expression in her eyes. "I mean -- just because you haven't seen him in a while..."

Dawn shook her head, cutting her off, "His crypt's all cleaned out. TV and everything. Only stuff left is the stuff too big to fit in that crappy old car of his -- like the bed and stuff, you know? So he must have left town."

Tara's frown deepened, a sick feeling beginning in the pit of her stomach.

Spike had left town straight from her house; he hadn't gone back to the crypt at all -- had he?

*Buffy's got a secret...a secret that's got her all distracted and happy...*

"Tara?"

Dawn's voice had lost it's sharp, slightly accusing quality and was now softer and anxious, as her wide blue eyes searched those of the older girl, worried by the look of fear that was slowly building on Tara's face.

"Tara -- what is it? What's wrong?"

***********************************

By the time Tara and Dawn were enjoying their third movie-and-milkshake night, Spike's injuries had all nearly healed. Pig's blood was nowhere near as effective as the human variety in promoting vampire healing, but it was certainly better than nothing.

However, the added blood had done nothing to help his other problem -- the problem below his waist that kept him from being able to logically consider his situation, or any way of escape, or anything but his current physical suffering...

...the problem that Buffy had still not seen fit to do anything about.

*Don't want her touching me anyway,* Spike thought with a bitter, defensive resentment, mingled with a terrible sense of fear. In truth, the thought of having her hands on him made him feel sick at his stomach.

But he knew full well that she would not be allowing him to do anything about it himself, not anytime soon -- and by this point, the purely physical need of his body for release was almost unbearable.

When he heard her soft, measured footsteps on the stairs, Spike could not help a wild flash of hope that maybe, maybe this time she would grant him the relief he sought. And immediately following that thought was a sense of shame at his own desperation, his own weakness that made him both dread and long for her touch.

"Wow," Buffy said lightly, as he heard her footsteps slowly circle him with a sort of predatory ease. "You're looking good, Baby." She paused, moving in close to him, and he flinched as he felt her feather-soft touch on the underside of his excruciatingly engorged member. "Well," she amended with an almost audible smirk, "mostly, anyway."

To both his relief and his despair, she removed her hand from his erection, reaching both hands behind his head to unbuckle the gag in his mouth. As she did, she spoke in a casual, matter-of-fact voice.

"Rules are gonna be a little different today," she informed him. "Now, if you scream -- raise your voice at all -- try anything stupid..." She jerked his head back, increasing his feeling of vulnerability, as she leaned in close to his ear to whisper, "...I'll put this gag right back on...and then I'll take one of those cute little bottles of holy water I always carry around...and I'll burn your little problem there right off...got it?"

Spike nodded frantically, terrified by the horrific threat, one that she sounded all too willing to carry out.

"But you *are* allowed to talk today," Buffy conceded quietly, as she took the gag from his mouth completely. "Without getting permission, too, provided you're respectful. After all," she placed a tender kiss along his jaw line, whispering in a voice full of seductive menace, "if you can't talk...you can't beg."