Author's Note: Whee! I'm starting this story up again. Welcome back, readers!

Previously: Whew. A lot. And no one probably remembers it. If you don't, hmm...you should probably re-read. Ah well...

Our band of feisty demon hunters has acquired a book that hopefully will tell them how to kill the Haunting. Unfortunately, no one can read it, so Dawn and Spike's buxom assistant is driving in to the rescue. There's also a big Winter Ball coming up which means many, many people at the inn, which means smorgasboard for the Haunting. And, oh yeah, Dawn and Spike's suspicions have just turned to Rick...

"Nothing."

Veronica's droll comment summarized the past frustrating week only too well.

"I'm starting to really hate this thing," Buffy complained, hands balling into lethal fists that – thankfully – had the presence of mind not to do serious damage to the décor.

Dawn could sympathize with her sister's impatience. Chewing absentmindedly on her much-abused and equally loved 'Mr. Grip' pen, she studied the seemingly chaotic mess of notes before her, hoping that some divine insight might bring sudden clarity to the mystery before them.

"So now we're complaining that this thing isn't attacking us nightly?" Lena's now-familiar nasal voice demanded.

Xel shot his mate a look of pure disgust. "We can't very well kill it if it won't show itself, now can we?" he shot back in the most condescending tone he could manage. He directed a smile in Dawn's direction that was half leer.

Not-so-subtly, Spike inched forward on the couch beside her, blocking the D'vorak Demon's view. Surrogate little sister safely protected from unwanted demon attentions, he turned his focus to the scattered notebooks on the coffee table. "Maybe we should just try to make it decipher your handwritin', luv," he teased with a look of concerted distaste at the chicken-scratch before him. "Send it runnin' away screamin'."

Buffy snickered at the comment before catching herself and placing a hand over her guilty mouth.

Spike looked up in surprise at the sound, only to find her looking everywhere but at him. With a frown, he turned his impatient attentions back to the meeting.

Dawn was just about fed up with the whole situation. While the Haunting hadn't been causing any trouble lately, Spike – and his unwitting accomplice, Buffy – had more than filled the void.

At first it had been humorous, given all of Spike's recent philandering, to see him as shy as a schoolboy with his first crush. Dawn had only seen rare flickers of the William side to his personality since he'd first fled Sunnydale, and it had been a bit of a refreshing break from the nearly-perpetual Big Bad bluster she'd had to put up with for the last five years.

Not that the Big Bad was gone. Oh no, that would be far too simple.

Rather, Spike seemed to be bouncing back and forth between the two now like a ping-pong ball on steroids. He'd been consistently difficult about lending Siggy his car until one day Dawn had randomly caught him in William-mode and he'd caved in in all of two minutes. He'd, shockingly, made no complaint whatsoever when Dawn had dragged him out to get proper undercover clothes for the Winter Ball, but then he'd gone into gloomy tirades about every single endeavor of the next two days.

And Buffy was just as annoying. The two of them had apparently subconsciously developed this system whereby they intentionally drove each other – and Dawn – completely insane.

It had started off with the eye-contact thing. Whenever they were in the same room together now, they'd spend all their time staring at each other...only they'd never let the other catch them at it. Dawn had had to put up with hours of eyeball-tennis where Spike pretended to be studying his boots intently anytime Buffy looked over at him and Buffy found the wall decorations fascinating in an effort to remain nonchalant every time he glanced her way.

It was worse when they were forced to talk. They'd both turned as skittish as scared rabbits and fled the scene the instant their mumbled messages were passed on.

As a result, both were irritable and difficult as only Spike and Buffy could be, but then they were in good company.

"OK, tonight's the big one," Dawn announced to the assembled group. "Since the inn—" she scowled in memory of her futile argument with Ms. Danvers' lawyer and shot Ms. Danvers a nasty look just in reminder, "—refuses to cancel, we're all going to have to be at the top of our game."

"We care, why?" Veronica drawled, nail file in one immaculately well-manicured hand.

"Evil thingy? Making everyone go crazy? Tried to kill you twice already?" Buffy suggested sarcastically.

Spike snickered.

Buffy looked over at him.

Spike looked back down at his boots.

Dawn rolled her eyes.

Veronica gave Buffy a nasty scowl. "But we're not going to do anything," she lamented in a bored drawl. "Why do we even need these meetings anymore?" She studied the sleek black skirt of her evening dress and removed an imaginary piece of lint.

Ah yes, Veronica had been even more uncooperative than usual in the past week, largely because her guaranteed conquest of Spike had inexplicably not occurred yet. He still flirted with her shamelessly, but even more shamelessly he hadn't seen to her needs on any of the nights she'd not-so-subtly invited him back to her room for a drink. Veronica was completely baffled by his reticence.

"Seems to me," Tucker's irritated Southern twang cut in, "that you folks're all talk and no action."

"When we find out how to kill it, we will. We're just waiting for the translator on that spell book," Dawn insisted, exasperated. "But until then, all we can do is try to minimize the damage it causes."

"So you're just gonna party a while and then kill this thing?" Tucker sounded completely unconvinced. "Great plan. Wonder why none of us thought of that." He moved to stride out of the recreation room.

"Well, that was the shortest-lived team effort ever," Lena responded with bored indifference.

"Can't you be polite for just one meeting?" Xel snapped back angrily. He tried to flash an obsequious smile Dawn's way, but Spike was still strategically blocking his view. One glance at the murderous look on Buffy's face had him turning his attentions to Veronica and trying his charms there. He gave her an oily smile.

Tucker scowled in Lena's direction. "I don't need in any smart-aleck remarks from a...whatever you are. You all can have your little club meetin's all you want. Me, I'm gonna put an end to the thing that killed John and Bob." He picked up his rifle from beside the door and shouldered it.

"And you criticized me because my plan was 'just kill it'?" Dawn countered, stepping in front of the door and cutting him off. "You're the only one that's seen this thing kill," she pointed out. "Did you see anything you could shoot?"

Tucker's face fell in response to that.

"And what exactly are you going to accomplish running off half-cocked like this?" she demanded, arms crossed over her chest in a no-nonsense manner.

"Getting' away from bossy little things like you," Tucker shot back. He attempted to tower over her in an intimidating manner.

Dawn, who had once had to stand up to two Breral Demons in full frenzy-mode, didn't even blink. "We're forgetting the lessons we learned from Bob and John's deaths so quickly?" she retorted bitingly.

"The Haunting has taken control over many of us," Rick spoke up in Dawn's defense, his accented voice echoing loudly in the otherwise silent lodge. "We have had some success in overcoming its influence."

"Run out there alone tonight," Spike grudgingly had to agree with the other man, even if the guy was obviously a tosser, "and 'm willin' to bet we'll find out you blew your own brains out come mornin'." He lit up the cigarette between his lips, obviously not caring one way or another which eventuality occurred.

It was this disinterested perspective that convinced Tucker most. The others all had their own reasons for wanting him to stick around, but someone who just didn't give a damn... Well, they had no real reason to do anything but speak the truth.

"That thing's out there," he insisted. "We felt it."

Rick spoke up. "There will be over a hundred people gathered in the ballroom this evening," he pointed out logically. "It is the only place for this Haunting to strike."

Tucker cast a grudging nod in Rick's direction and slumped back against the wall. In the two days since he'd agreed to have a go at being a team player, Rick had been the only person he'd really listened to. He refused to take orders from the "uppity women," and his distaste for "freaks" like Xel and Spike was apparent in every sneer he cast their way.

Present crisis averted, Dawn turned back to the group as a whole. "Since the establishment," she cast a nasty look to where Ms. Danvers was seated in the corner, watching the proceedings with calculated interest, "refuses to cancel this event, the only thing we can really do is try to run interference. Almost all of us have encountered the Haunting in some form or other. We all know what to look for. We have to mingle with the guests and hope we can break up any disturbances before chaos breaks out." Another pointed look in Ms. Danvers' direction. "You do realize how potentially dangerous this could be, right?" she demanded.

"Your job," Ms. Danvers gave her an irritated look, "is to make sure this 'Haunting' or whatever you call it doesn't drive me out of business."

Dawn bit her lip at that because it was true and she felt like they'd accomplished very little so far. She only hoped that when Siggy arrived the day after tomorrow she'd be able to glean some valuable information from the spell book Eustacia Collins had given them.

"Then," Dawn decided with a weary sigh, "I suppose we all just have to get ready for tonight and hope for the best..."

Buffy found it a rather restless afternoon. Aside from their own unusual band of allies, the inn was almost entirely deserted. The hallways seemed to echo with an eerie silence as she walked through them, and whenever she happened upon one of the sparse guests, they both leapt in surprise at seeing another person. It was hard to imagine that in only a few hours this place would be packed. If their Haunting had been waiting for an occasion to cause mischief, that would certainly be it.

To tell the truth, this place was giving her the creeps more every day. Like Dawn, she had the inescapable feeling that something bad was coming, and the longer she was trapped within these walls, the more in danger she felt.

Even the elation at seeing Spike and Dawn again was beginning to wear off. Even though it had only been weeks, already it felt as though they'd spent eternity here, as if time stretched out longer in this place, allowing them to live years in a matter of days.

She was frustrated that nothing seemed to be happening with Spike, of course. Their occasional moments of camaraderie were always interrupted by long stretches in which he seemed not even to be aware of her existence. All his flirtations lately had been directed at Veronica, with even occasional comments thrown Lena's way, but he shut up like a clam around her. It was more than infuriating.

And the frightening part was that sometimes she wondered if it would just be better if nothing happened between them. He had obviously gotten on with his life without her, and he didn't seem to have feelings for her anymore, so why shouldn't she just let him go off and be happy after this mission was over? After all she'd put him through back in Sunnydale, he surely deserved to get away from her if that was what he wanted. And, given the way he acted most of the time, she was almost confident that was what he did want.

But, then, every so often...

They were just glimpses, really, maybe nothing more than some kind of intuition, but they gave her hope that some of the fire that had once burned between them was still there, and it was just waiting to engulf them once more.

What was most frustrating was that she hadn't been able to get in a good talk with Holden about her various life dramas for almost a week now. For some unknown reason, cell-phone communication seemed to be spotty at the lodge. It got worse whenever it snowed, and the flurries of the past few days had made reception impossible.

She'd thought of going to Dawn to talk a couple of times, but she wasn't sure it would be a good idea. The two of them had certainly learned to work together over the past couple weeks, and they'd even shared a few laughs, but Buffy sincerely doubted that Dawn would support her attempts to start up a relationship with the vampire again. Dawn's loyalties were clearly with Spike now, and she knew only too well how badly Buffy had hurt him in the past.

In fact, there was only one thing that managed to calm her mind now when everything became overwhelming. It was the reason she strolled the hallways aimlessly whenever she began feeling restless. Her efforts were in vain this afternoon, of course. The piano had been moved from the sitting room to the ballroom for the celebration this evening, and so many people were working on setting up the festivities there that Buffy doubted that even her favorite phantom would be able to sneak in for a quick tune.

Veronica hadn't been quite correct when she'd said that nothing supernatural had occurred in the past week. Buffy had heard the soft music nearly every night when she returned to her room. She still felt guilty for not divulging this information to the group, but deep in her heart something told her that it was no one else's business. The music was only for her to hear, and it was an aide, not a danger.

With a wistful sigh at the silent piano, she began to hum the now-memorized tune and headed over to Spike and Dawn's suite to hear Spike swearing up a storm...

"Bloody, buggering..."

A loud roar, and a dress shoe flew through the open door to Spike's room, sailed in a perfect parabolic arc through the common room, and hit the far wall with an ungraceful 'thunk'. Dawn watched it fall to the floor in a dejected manner.

"You're gonna need both of these," she provided, nervously dangling the shoe back into his room.

He snatched it from her with a growl and turned back to his arch-nemesis – a black tie – with a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

"You want me to get that for you?" Dawn offered, desperately trying to suppress the urge to laugh.

"Don't need your help," he insisted stubbornly, forcibly ejecting her from the bedroom and slamming the door shut.

Dawn rolled her eyes as the swearing resumed within with newfound intensity. "Why me?" she sighed.

A knock at the door saved her from having to deal with ultra-pissed-off Spike for the moment.

"Mind if I come in?" Buffy asked after the door had been opened.

Dawn waved her inside in perfect time with a new string of Spike's invective.

Buffy's eyes widened when several crashes sounded from the bedroom. "Is he killing something in there?" she inquired curiously.

Dawn giggled. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?" she agreed.

Buffy blinked.

"He's getting dressed," Dawn explained.

Unbidden, a snicker escaped Buffy's lips.

"You think that's bad, you should hear him after I've eaten all the chocolate ice-cream," Dawn provided with a wink.

"Die, you filthy, soddin' git!" sounded from the bedroom.

"I can imagine," Buffy agreed with a giggle.

"So, what brings you here?" Dawn inquired, absentmindedly rearranging the research books on the coffee table. "You as bored waiting as I am?" Dawn had managed to slip into her evening dress of lavender satin in all of five seconds.

Buffy nodded, hiking up the skirt of her own emerald green dress as she sat back on the couch. More inventive invective shook the suite. "Men," she teased. "They always take forever to get dressed."

Dawn laughed at that. "I offered to help him, but..."

"As stubborn as ever, I see," Buffy agreed.

Dawn nodded. "I don't know why I bother to put up with him..." Another crash and the tinkle of broken glass. Dawn sighed. "I'd better go get the broom and dustpan from the front desk again before he cuts himself," she decided. "Hold the fort for me, will ya?"

Buffy promised and flipped absentmindedly through the spell book that supposedly held the key to their mystery while Spike got progressively more furious in the other room. She started at the knock at the door and went to let Dawn in...only to find that it wasn't Dawn there.

Rick looked visibly flustered to see her. "I'm looking for your sister," he provided.

Buffy let him in. "She should be right—"

"Bloody, buggering fuck!"

"—back," she finished through Spike's swearing. She cast an annoyed glance in the direction of Spike's room and stalked over to it. "You need any help in there?" she demanded, rapping on the wood with her knuckles.

"Bugger off!" he shot back.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Well, can you at least try to keep it down? I could hear you from down the hall."

Mumbled cursewords, but he seemed to be attempting to be quieter for the moment.

"Sorry about that," Buffy said, turning to face Rick...and finding that he was gone. She frowned for a second. "That's odd..."

"What's odd?" Dawn returned to the room at that moment, broom and dustpan in hand. She walked over to Spike's door and began banging on it. "You're cleaning up that glass," she informed him before turning back to Buffy. "What'd he do now?" she asked curiously.

Buffy shook her head. "Not him," she corrected, "Rick. He was here just a second ago, and—"

"You let him in?" Dawn asked, slightly concerned.

"Just for a second," Buffy insisted. "I just turned my back, and then he was gone."

"He was probably just in a hurry," Dawn assured her, but there was still a frown on her face.

Buffy shrugged and put the matter out of mind. She moved to sit back on the couch.

Dawn continued to wait impatiently outside of Spike's door. "I need to return this stuff soon," she provided through the door.

"Well then, bring it in!" he retorted. "'m not goin' out there starkers with half the world watching on."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "This'll probably take all afternoon," she informed Buffy. "I probably won't be the best entertainment."

Buffy nodded. "I can go find Rick and see what he wanted."

Dawn nodded slowly. "That's a good idea," she agreed. "You do that." With that she disappeared into Spike's room, cleaning implements in hand.

Buffy shrugged and let herself out. She couldn't find Rick, though. He seemed to have vanished into thin air...

"How did you manage to unlive this long?" Dawn demanded when she and Spike finally emerged from his room, tuxedo finally properly arranged.

He grumbled and pulled at the collar like he was choking, even though he didn't need to breathe. "Didn't dress up in monkey suits," he grumbled under his breath, plopping down on the couch that Buffy had vacated over an hour before.

"Yeah, yeah," Dawn said, "and the punk look never dies." She checked her watch. "Only forty-five minutes to spare. You know, it's supposed to be my job to make us late..."

"Whatever you say," Spike grumbled and picked up the book on the top of the pile. And frowned. He put it back down and began riffling through the pile.

"You know, you're starting to drive me crazy," she informed him with a huff.

His search of the table unsuccessful, he got up and walked over to the weapons' bags and began digging through them. "Well, I told you it was a bad idea for us to be cramped up together in the middle 'f nowhere all winter."

"All winter?" Dawn repeated with a roll of her eyes. "And you never said that."

"Well, I meant to..." he trailed off with a frown, scanning the room.

"Uh-huh," she teased, "sure. 'Cause your foresight's always 20/20."

He ignored the jibe as the frown on his face grew. "Bit..." he began hesitantly, "where'd you put that book the Collins woman gave us?"

"I left it right on the table," Dawn insisted and then also noticed that the book that had been on the top of the pile was gone. She frowned and searched through the books there slowly. "You're sure you didn't move it?" she asked.

"Left it right there," Spike insisted.

"Well, so did I," Dawn countered, "and the only other person who's been in here is Buffy..." Her eyes widened. "And Rick!" she added, looking around frantically now.

They both scrambled to search the room frantically at that, but the book was gone. There was no question whatsoever that it had been stolen.

And the next chapter already awaits you...