Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Don't sue.

Spoilers: I suppose through BtVS S5, but I'm doing some rearranging.

Summary: This is a sequel to "The Great Advantage of Being Alive." If you haven't read it, this one really won't make any sense. In any case, Spike's trying to find out what it means to be a man, and to fight at Buffy's side. Buffy's struggling with what it means to be the Slayer. Dawn wants to know if she's real, and Glory just really wants her Key back.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Archiving: The Sandlot, The Crypt, and anywhere else that already has my stuff.Otherwise, ask and it shall be given to you.

A/N: The title comes from a Pablo Neruda poem. The line actually goes "all the graces of the daybreak" but I liked my pun.
 

Chapter 9: Sometimes It's Not About the Blood
 

"If I can stop one heart from breaking,/I shall not live in vain;/If I can ease one life the aching,/Or cool one pain,/Or help one fainting robin/Unto his nest again,/I shall not live in vain." ~Emily Dickinson
 

Buffy knew she didn't have a choice about telling Spike the truth when she saw his face. He and Giles were sitting with Dawn and Joyce, chatting pleasantly. The way he was looking at her—as though he were terribly disappointed in her—Buffy hadn't thought that anyone but Giles could look at her like that.

"Buffy," Joyce said, smiling. "How was patrol?"

"Good," Buffy replied, glancing at Dawn. The girl rose quickly, slipping past Buffy to head upstairs, without a word to anyone. Spike and Giles exchanged knowing looks, but Joyce appeared bewildered.

"What was that?"

Buffy sighed. "Just sister stuff." She gave both her Watcher and her boyfriend a pleading look. "I'll be right back down."

Joyce noted the look of concern in Spike's eyes as he watched the Slayer head up the stairs. Torn, Spike considered following, but Giles' gentle hand stopped him. With a quick shake of the head, the Watcher held him in place.

Buffy stood in the doorway of her—no, not her sister's—Dawn's room, feeling awkward. She knew she owed Dawn an apology, but it wasn't easy for her to give those out, especially to annoying little sisters.

Speaking of annoying little sisters, if the monks were going to make Dawn up, make up all her memories, why couldn't they make her a little less annoying? A little less bratty? Why did Dawn get special relationships with everyone, including her boyfriend?

Oh, that's right. Because everybody was supposed to want to protect her.

The Slayer stifled her resentment and attempted the apology. "I'm sorry."

"You hurt my arm."

"I'm really sorry." Buffy took a few steps into the room when she realized that Dawn wasn't going to start immediately screaming at her to get out. Faced with the girl, Buffy remembered—everything. She had no idea when the real memories started, though she figured that Dawn had shown up in bodily form only recently.

The memories, even fake ones, were accompanied by feelings though, and Buffy realized what a good job those monks had done. This was about more than duty; it was about love.

Blood didn't have anything to do with it at this point.

Dawn gave her a dirty look. "You acted like a jerk. Even Spike thought so."

"I know." Buffy sat down on the bed next to the other girl.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Did I ever tell you that I have this theory? It's where Mom adopted you from a shoebox full of howler monkeys, only she never told you because of your delicate baby feelings."

"You really can't take an apology, can you?" Buffy suppressed her own eye-roll. "You never could. Ever since—" she broke off as she realized the wrongness of that statement. "I just had a really bad day."

"Join the club," Dawn replied.

"Can I be president?"

"I'm president." Dawn bent. Slightly. "You can be janitor."

"Thanks."

Buffy's hand moved of its own accord to stroke Dawn's hair. "Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"What's wrong with Mom?"

"I don't know." Buffy put her arm around Dawn's shoulders as the younger girl leaned against her. "I don't know."

~~~~~

Buffy passed her mom on the stairs on her way down, and she paused to wish her a good night. "Love you."

"I love you too, sweetie," Joyce replied. "Oh, and Spike and Giles are still downstairs. They said they wanted to talk to you."

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I figured. I'll let them out."

She found both men drinking tea in the dining room when she got there, speaking in low voices, their conversation intense. Two pairs of eyes found hers as she sat down next to Spike. "Slayer?"

"I'm sorry about earlier," she said softly. "I've already apologized to Dawn."

"That's good," he said, his face still not losing its grimness. "I'm still waitin' to hear what that was all about."

"Did it have something to do with the spell?" Giles asked. "You said it didn't work."

Buffy hesitated, then nodded. "I couldn't see what was wrong with Mom, but I could see what was up with Dawn. Her picture was flickering in and out, her room wasn't really there—it was a storage room. And then, when I saw Dawn, it was like she wasn't real."

"Not real?" Giles said. "What do you mean?"

Briefly, Buffy described her encounter with the monk and the woman, telling them what he had said about Dawn. Spike was shaking his head before she was done. "No. I can't—I remember, Buffy! I—"

"I remember when Mom and Dad got divorced, Dawn cried for like a week." Buffy met his eyes. "You're not the only one who's finding this hard to swallow."

Giles pulled off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. "Dawn doesn't know?"

"She thinks she's my kid sister," Buffy replied. "We have to keep her safe."

"That goes without sayin'," Spike rumbled. "We gonna tell her?"

Buffy shook her head. "How can we? She'd freak, and that's the last thing anybody needs."

Giles frowned. "This—woman. She knows you now. Should we be thinking about sending Dawn away?"

"Where?" Buffy asked.

"Your father's?" Giles suggested. Buffy and Spike let out twin snorts.

"I wouldn't send that wanker a puppy," Spike muttered.

Buffy gave her boyfriend a half-hearted smile. "What Spike means to say is that my father is in Spain with his secretary, living the dream. I called to let him know Mom was sick, and he didn't even—"

When she faltered, Giles grimaced. "Of course. I'm sorry, Buffy. What will we tell the others?"

"Nothing," Buffy quickly replied. "They'd act weird around her. The fewer people know about this, the better."

Spike nodded his agreement. "Gotta go with the Slayer on this one. Between the three of us we should be able to keep Dawn safe an' the others in the dark. At least for the time being."

"I think that's wise," Giles agreed. "We should also make every attempt to discover who this woman is, and what she might want Dawn for. If she comes after you..."

"She'll come," Buffy said quietly, knowingly. She looked towards the stairs where Dawn lay sleeping by now, and felt Spike's strong hand close over hers on the table. "It's just a matter of time, but she'll come."

~~~~~

Tara looked down at the spell book, thinking about the ramifications of the binding spell—what she'd need, how she'd do it, what kind of power it would take. In some ways, she'd taken a page out of Spike's book. He had come to terms with his place in the group, largely by forming connections that were unique to himself. He had made himself indispensible, although the witch wasn't sure Spike had figured that out yet.

He had just wanted to be useful; well, so did she.

"You coming to bed?" Willow called. She was already under the covers, waiting for the other girl.

Tara looked over her shoulder at her. "I think I'm going to read for a while longer. I just want to get this figured out."

Willow made a face. "You've been spell-gal lately."

"I want to keep up with you," Tara explained. "And I want to be useful. You know, I just want..." She trailed off.

Willow gave her a sympathetic look. "You're not useful. You're essential."

Tara smiled shyly, and ducked her head, remembering what Spike had said to her. "Yeah."

"Are you ready to have a happy birthday?" Willow asked.

A shadow fell across Tara's face as she remembered what turning twenty was supposed to mean, and the fact that she hadn't shared her secret with Willow yet. "I guess." Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her lover. "Can I—I need to tell you something."

"Okay," Willow said, pushing herself up into a more upright position on the bed. "As long as it isn't about you breaking up with me, I can handle anything."

Tara gave a little shake of her head. "No, it's not that. It's about—" She had no idea how to start. How did you tell your girlfriend that you'd thought you were a demon until an ex-vampire had convinced you otherwise? "Do you remember when Spike was really sick last spring, and you guys went and fixed up his apartment while I sat with him?"

Willow nodded, remembering. She also remembered that Tara'd had a different light in her eyes over the subsequent days. She'd looked happier or something, and Willow had wondered why Spike would have been the cause. "Yeah. Spike didn't—I mean, he wouldn't—"

"No, he was..." She sighed. Slowly, she repeated their conversation verbatim, every word having been burned upon her memory. "Up until then I always thought there was something wrong with me," she explained. "I mean, I knew it would come out eventually, and it's supposed to come out on your twentieth birthday."

"Oh." Willow blinked. Her scientist's mind was trying to come up with an explanation, working out all the possibilities. "Well, I mean there are some genes that are carried by males but only expressed in females. Or vice versa. I guess it would be—" She stopped, seeing the look on Tara's face. "Oh! But I don't mean that with you, sweetie! It's not like you're a demon or anything."

Tara gave her a pained smile, her carefully constructed reasoning as to why she couldn't be a demon suddenly very shaky. "But I could be."

"So what if you are?" Willow asked fiercely. "It doesn't matter. I mean, Spike was a vampire, and Anya was a vengeance demon. Nobody cares about that. It's about what you do."

Tara wasn't so sure. And even if it was true, what did she do, anyway? What could she hope to contribute to the others?

Willow, sensing her girlfriend's turmoil, grabbed her hand and tugged her to the bed. "Tara, sweetie, I love you. You know that."

"I know," Tara replied.

The redhead hesitated. "You've never really said much about your family. Was it—was it bad?"

"Not so bad," she replied. "No worse than anybody else's house, I guess."

It wasn't precisely true. Tara hadn't actually known how bad it was until she got to college. Although she might have a tendency to fade into the woodwork, the people had treated her differently, Willow and her friends most differently of all.

Including Spike. Spike was actually the first guy she wasn't afraid of. The day she and Willow took him shopping, his eyes had been so wounded, all she'd wanted to do was to protect him. He'd always been so gentle with her, Tara didn't think she could be afraid, but that hadn't always been the case.

Tara wanted to belong somewhere, to belong to someone. She just wanted a family.

~~~~~

"What are you goin' to do now?" Spike asked.

Buffy had insisted on walking him back to his apartment. Despite the lateness of the hour, she needed to be with him, needed reassurance that he was on her side, and more than willing to brave hell itself for her.

She was suddenly grateful that he'd been there at the end of the spell, that she'd been forced to tell him the truth about Dawn. Otherwise, it would have been far too easy to convince herself of how much better it would be not to tell him.

The burden of keeping it from him would have weighed heavily on her shoulders.

"I'm going to move back home," she said after a moment's silence. "Me being in the dorms just isn't safe for Dawn. Plus, with Mom not feeling well right now, it gives me a good excuse."

Spike nodded. "Probably not a bad idea.An' Dawn?"

"I'm not going to let her out of my sight?" Buffy said, a questioning note in her voice. At Spike's raised eyebrow, she sighed. "I don't know, Spike. That's pretty much the best I can come up with right now."

"Why not let me take on part of that too?" he asked. "Tell her to come to the gallery after she's done with school, or I can take a bit of a break an' pick her up."

Buffy winced. "I don't know. I mean, it's great that you want to help, but—" She stopped, and she could hear him sigh next to her.

"You can say it, Buffy-luv. I'm not strong enough."

Hearing the resignation in his tone, the Slayer squeezed his hand. "I wasn't strong enough," she reminded him. "She was giving me a very thorough ass-kicking. I don't even want to know what she could do to you. You didn't see the monk."

"No, I didn't," Spike agreed. "But I don't need to. Look, pet, you know that if you start keepin' strict tabs on the Bit, it'll look out of place. She'll figure somethin' is up, an' so will everybody else. Then you'll have to answer their questions. Better if you let Giles an' me split duties. If you're not goin' to send her away, you can't single her out."

Buffy knew he was right. There was elegant logic to his argument, and she reluctantly agreed. "So, you and Giles help with Dawn-duty." She let out a bitter little laugh. "Why am I suddenly afraid that I'm never going to get to see you?"

"It'll pass, luv," he replied quietly. "Give it a bit of time, an' it'll pass. We'll figure out this new big bad, an' see that the Niblet is safe. Won't take any time at all, you'll see."

Buffy wanted to believe him. She really did. Duty had come crashing down on her shoulders, however, and it was heavier than she ever remembered it being before. She had a bad feeling about this one, as though she sensed it was going to get ugly before it even started.

"Right," she finally replied, taking a deep breath, somehow knowing that Spike understood how she was feeling. "Business as usual on the Hellmouth."

~~~~~

"Okay, I think that's most of it," Buffy said, leaning back into Spike's chest as his arms came around her waist. "Remind me to thank mom for feeling well enough to give you the day off."

"No need," he replied. "Already done." Spike could feel the tension in the Slayer. She was still wound tight over this whole Glory mess, and he couldn't blame her. He was a bit on edge himself. The worst of it was knowing that he'd be of little use if it came down to a fight. He could carry his own weight, but he was a human, with human limitations.

They had manged to get everything out of Buffy's dorm and back into her room, however, and he'd helped with that. At least he could still move stuff. "Where to now?" he asked.

"Magic Box." Buffy pulled away slightly, giving him a smile. "There's research to be done, and Giles to check up on. You don't have to come, you know. If you just want a break—"

"Not come?" Spike asked, giving a mock-gasp of pain. "Slayer, you wound me! As if I would have anything better to do with my time than be with you."

Buffy stared at him, then a large grin broke out over her face. "You know, you are really good with the sweet talk. Keep that up and I may just have to do something about it."

"That a threat?"

"A promise," she assured him, still grinning.

They drove over to the Magic Box in the DeSoto, Spike doing his best to make her laugh. He would do everything in his power to lighten her load, and he loved to hear her happy. She grew a little more serious as he parked, however. "Spike?"

"Yeah, luv?"

"Have you gotten anything for Tara's birthday yet?"

Spike looked over at her, scarred eyebrow cocked. "Sure. Went shopping about a week ago. Why?"

"I have no idea what to get her," Buffy confessed. "I mean, she's really nice, and I like her. I just don't get her sometimes."

Spike frowned. "Don't get her?"

"Like today, with the comment about the 'insect reflection.' I just—"

Spike made a face. "She has a rare brand of humor, Buffy, but the comment was funny if you understand the context."

"I know!" Buffy replied. "You laughed. You got it. It's just—I don't. All I really know about her is that she likes Willow and she's into the Wicca thing."

He sighed. "If Tara were getting you a present, what would you want from her?"

"Huh?"

Spike looked at her patiently. "Somebody who didn't know you well needed to get you a gift, what would you want?"

The Slayer gave that a moment's consideration. "I don't know. Something everybody likes, I guess. Bath stuff, or candles, or maybe a gift certificate."

"She might like one of those," Spike acknowledged. "Tara doesn't have a lot of spare cash. She might appreciate the chance to treat herself to somethin' nice."

"That just seems so—impersonal."

Spike rolled his eyes. "You can't have it both ways, Slayer. You don't know someone well, chances are your gift's goin' to be a bit impersonal or totally off the mark."

Buffy got out of the car, looking at him over the hood. "Okay, so what did you get her?"

He shrugged. "Got her a book of magical recipes and remedies. She likes that sort of thing, an' it's goin' to be handy if she keeps hangin' around us. We'll need her skills at some point."

Buffy made a face. "You know, I'm not sure what it says when your boyfriend is more sensitive than you are."

"I am not sensitive," he replied hotly. "'m very manly."

She grinned, glad to have riled him a bit. "One hundred percent, sweetie."

"An' don't you forget it," Spike said, following her into the store. Xander was soon moaning about not knowing what to get Tara too, and Spike gently steered him in the same direction he had the Slayer. He'd seen the shy witch's longing looks and regretful glances when he went shopping with her and Dawn. She didn't have a lot of money, but she was as generous with her time and her abilities as anyone he'd ever met. If anyone deserved a bit of a shopping spree it was her.

Honestly, Spike didn't understand why the rest of the Scoobies had such a difficult time understanding Tara. Unless, of course, it was because they couldn't see much outside the confines of their little group. Not that he disliked any of them, really, but they were an insular lot to be sure. He thought it only right that the outsiders looked after each other.

Speaking of outsiders—Spike looked over at the young man browsing the shelves. There was something a little off about him. If he'd still been a vampire, Spike would have snapped his neck without bothering to drink.

Without giving the appearance of staring, Spike kept one eye on his book and one eye on the young wanker. His unease was confirmed just a few moments later. "These all magic books?"

Giles looked up at the potential customer, used by now to impertinent (and stupid) questions. Quite a few visitors to the store didn't take its inventory seriously. "These are part of our private collection. The ones for sale are on the shelves over there."

The Watcher caught a glimpse of the look on Spike's face, and was taken aback. He had a feeling that Spike would be growling if he could have managed it with the same effect as in the past. The stranger looked at the books on the table with barely concealed disdain. "So you can do spells with these books? Turn me into a frog?"

"Yeah, that's what we do," Xander replied drily. "We're making a whole army of frogs in our spare time."

"Might be an improvement," Spike said quietly, in such a low voice that only Buffy caught it. She gave him an alarmed look, and then glanced back at the man. It was unusual for him to be so hostile to a stranger. Spike worked in her mom's art gallery with weird customers all day and managed to be invariably polite.

Buffy watched as Spike smiled politely at the man, his hostility thinly disguised, and the stranger seemed to deflate slightly. Whatever else might have been said was interrupted by the bell over the door, and Willow and Tara walked in laughing and talking.

Spike's sharp eyes didn't miss the way the blonde witch seemed to sink into herself as soon as she caught sight of the strange man, nor the almost unholy light in the man's eyes. "Well, hey, Tara!" he said, sounding jovial. "You got a hug for your big brother?"

"H-h-hey, D-Donny," Tara said, giving him an awkward hug. "H-how did you find—what brings you here?"

Donny grinned, and Spike could see the power behind the expression. It was the smile of someone who was confident of their place and was accustomed to putting other people in theirs. "Well, duh, birthday girl. We came in the camper. We been all over campus lookin' for you." He looked around at the others. "You know these folks?"

"Uh, y-yeah."Tara glanced over at her girlfriend. "Willow, this is m-my b-brother, D-Donny. And these are my friends."

"This is more people than you went to high school with," he replied, laughing. Willow and Spike's eyes met. Now that they both had some inkling that Tara's homelife hadn't been all roses and no thorns, they knew there was more to this than older brother greeting younger sister. Neither had missed Tara's aborted question of how they had found her.

"It's nice to meet you," Willow said, though her smile was slightly strained.

The bell over the door rang again, and a middle aged man in a starched white shirt entered. Spike thought he looked as though he he had something rammed up his ass. "Hey, lookit what I found!" Donny called.

"Uh, dad, hi."

"Hello, Tara." He stepped aside to reveal a young woman about his daughter's age.

"Cousin Beth," Tara's voice was still quavering, and Spike edged a little closer to her, ready to intercede if things got weird. Not that they weren't weird already.

"Hey." The girl didn't appear any more pleased to see Tara than she was to see her family.

Mr. Maclay looked at his daughter. "We went by your room. Some of your dormmates thought we might find you here."

"Oh, yeah, uh, this is Mr. Giles, and these-these are m-my friends," she explained. By this point, everyone in the shop had caught on to the weird vibes, and there were a few very subdued hellos given.

Mr. Maclay sized them all up in moments, and didn't appear too impressed with what he was seeing. "Well, I don't want to disrupt your plans, but I thought we might have dinner tonight."

It wasn't actually a request, and Tara nodded quickly. "Sure."

"I'll pick you up around six then," he stated. "You'll forgive me for running off, but I'm double parked."

All three trooped out, and Willow came to put an arm around her girlfriend. "You don't have to go with them tonight if you don't want to, sweetie. Or I could go with you if—"

Tara shook her head. "N-no, I-I'll be fine. It-it's okay."

Spike came to stand next to her. "Listen to me, luv. Family isn't 'bout the blood, yeah? Whatever they been tellin' you all these years, it's a bunch of lies."

"Lies?" Buffy asked. "What—"

Tara shook her head. "I-I should go." She gave Spike a grateful look. "I know."

"Just so you remember," he warned her, and then watched as she left with Willow.

"Uh, what was that all about?" Buffy asked.

Spike hesitated. He didn't want to spill Tara's secret, but at the same time she might end up needing the support of the whole group. While the Scoobies were insular, they were also very attuned to doing the right thing for the underdog. They would do the right thing now. "Glinda grew up thinkin' she was some sort of demon."

"What?" This came from Buffy, Xander, and Giles.

"What kind of demon?" Anya asked interestedly. "Because I've known some very nice half-breeds. I've known fewer nice humans, actually."

Spike gave her a humorless smile. "Well, they had her convinced she was evil, or some such rot. Thought I'd disabused her of that notion last spring when she told me, but..." He trailed off. "Least evil girl I've ever met," he grumbled.

"I would certainly agree," Giles said. "She said it was just her? But her brother—"

"That's what I said," Spike interrupted. "'less she wasn't her father's daughter, 's impossible. It was some rot story. You saw her brother."

Xander frowned, unwanted memories in his eyes. "He kind of reminded me of someone I don't like." He looked around at the others. "So what are we going to do?"

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "What we always do. We protect our own, and Tara's one of us now."

~~~~~

Tara kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she headed towards the Magic Box. After her conversation with her father, she wasn't feeling very good. Her dad seemed so sure—about her, about her mother. She couldn't believe that all magic was evil, not when she'd seen Willow and her friends use it to help people.

Not when she'd used it to help people.

Plus, Spike liked her, and he had known before Willow even. He seemed to think it was all a lie. Even if Willow thought it was possible she was part demon, she hadn't seemed turned off by the idea. Her girlfriend had been just as affectionate with her today as any other day.

Still, the spell had been tempting. If she could just hide it for a little while, until her family was gone and the danger was past—but it wouldn't be right. Besides, if Spike and Willow knew, and the others probably did as well.

That knowledge gave her the strength to tell Beth she wasn't going home, and was why she was now hurrying to the Magic Box. She needed her friends around her when she stood up to her father. She wanted witnesses.

The store was in chaos when she arrived though. Lei-ach demons seemed to be overrunning the place, and Buffy and Spike had their hands full holding them off. "Tara!" Willow called when she spotted the other witch. "Hurry!"

Tara raced over to her, joining their hands, focusing on one of the remaining demons attacking Spike. They had been practicing over the last few months, and the spell worked better than it had in the past, the demon freezing in mid-swing. Spike used the respite to slice through its middle with his ax, calling a brief thanks over his shoulder before going over to help Buffy.

The last demon had managed to evade the Slayer, heading for Mr. Maclay as he came through the door. "What—"

His surprised cry was ignored by the others as Buffy tripped the demon and stepped on its neck, the sharp crack sounding through the suddenly quiet shop. "What is this?" Tara's father demanded.

"Demons," Spike replied laconically, giving Donny and Beth amused looks as they stared at the carnage in horror. "Real ones."

Mr. Maclay stared at him and then looked over at Tara. "You will be coming home with us, young lady. We know what you are. We can deal with it. Staying here, you'll just put your friends in more danger, and—"

"We're already in danger on a regular basis," Buffy interrupted. "Tara being here or not wouldn't change that, but she could be a big help."

"Besides," Dawn said, piping up from behind the store counter where she'd been hiding. "Tara belongs here. We want her."

Beside Tara, Willow gave her hand a squeeze. "I don't want you to go. No one does."

"We're your family!" Mr. Maclay protested. "Your blood kin! You people have no right to interfere in Tara's affairs."

"Sometimes blood isn't everythin'," Spike said.

Tara met Willow's eyes and then looked over at Spike. Seeing the support there, she nodded. "I'm sorry, Dad, but I'm not leaving. This is my home now."

"You're not gonna let her get away with that, are you?" Donny demanded. "Tara, I swear if you don't get yourself in that car right now, I will beat you down!"

Spike had never claimed to be the kind of guy that thinks everything through. He was often led by passion, and this time passion led him to throw a mean left hook. Donny never saw it coming. "You want to try threatenin' anybody again?" he invited softly. He stared into Mr. Maclay's eyes. "You're not welcome here."

"Tara, you're not going to let them do this, are you? For eighteen years, we supported you and took care of you, and now—"

"Dad, just go." She didn't say it without a sense of sadness. You didn't say goodbye to the family of your birth without a longing for what had never been. To break ties also meant to accept what would never be.

But there was a freedom in accepting what was.

She watched her family leave, and then turned and gave Willow a kiss, too happy to say anything at all. Behind her, Giles was talking to Spike. "You know, normally I would tell you that violence doesn't solve anything, but I rather wanted to plant a fist in that wanker's face myself." Then, recalling who was present, he said, "Forgive me, Tara."

"No, it's okay. He is a wanker." She looked over at Spike and smiled. "Thank you."

Spike smiled and shrugged. "What else is family for?"

Tara gave him a knowing look. It seemed she'd at last found a place to belong.