Title:  Pillow Talk

Author:  Miss Murchison

Rating:  Moving deeper into R territory.

Disclaimer:  All characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.  Only the lame plots and dialogue herein are mine.

Notes:  A Spuffy story that starts in early Season 6 before deviating from canon.   A slight change in circumstances, a different decision or two, and you wind up with very different results.

Thanks: To Keswindhover and revdorothyl for the beta.

The story begins here.

Chapter 24

"So, have you and Spike done it yet?"

Buffy stared at Dawn, the slip of paper with its silly non-fortune still in her hand.  The dryer started to thump with its load of jeans and the old washer was shaking again. 

"Where did that question come from?"

Dawn shrugged.  "If you can make weird cookie comments, I can change the subject.  Come on, have you done it yet?"

"What?"

Dawn picked up a pile of clean towels and started up the stairs.  "You know what.  Come on, you were in bed together when I peeked in this morning."

"That was just—just—"  Buffy gave up.  "I don't know what it was. But we didn't do it."  We just got very, very close.

She followed her sister into the dining room, where Dawn set most of the towels on the table before taking the dishcloths off the top of the pile and going into the kitchen.  She dropped most of them in a drawer and started drying the plates Buffy had washed earlier.

"Why not?" she demanded.  She made it sound as if sleeping with Spike was a perfectly reasonable thing for Buffy to do.

"I thought it was gross when I kissed guys?"

"That was so eighth grade, Buffy.  I'm over that now."

And into a wildly curious stage.  Yay.  Buffy went to the sink and started working on the dishes she'd left to soak.  "I know you like him, Dawn.  And, okay, I do too these days, whenever he's not making me want to hit him.  But after my fiasco with Angel--well, my series of fiascos with Angel--I don't have any delusions about how a star-crossed affair with a vampire is romantic.   It's just a load of pain, even when he has a soul, which Spike doesn't."

Dawn gave a derisive snort.  "Yeah, and everything ended so well with Riley, too."  She put the dishes in one cabinet and looked around at the counters.  "You had a disaster with a vampire and a disaster with a human.  I think the odds are even."

"That was different."  The water in the sink was getting distinctly yucky, so Buffy drained it.

Dawn was rearranging some bowls in another cabinet.  "Yeah, you didn't really love Riley."

"What makes you think I'm in love with--?"  Buffy remembered Dawn had been watching the scene in the butcher shop, and realized the question would only get her an uncomfortable response.  She gave up.  "Whatever.  I'll keep you posted, okay?"  She filled the sink with clean soapy water and stared washing glasses.

To Buffy's surprise, Dawn seemed to accept this.  To her even greater surprise, when she turned around after washing the glasses and setting them in the drain board, the counters were clean and Dawn was wiping down the inside of the microwave. 

"Huh," said Buffy as she went to get a broom. 

Dawn dashed down the stairs to switch more laundry, carried the latest clean pile upstairs along with the towels, and started straightening the living room. Buffy gave the kitchen floor a quick mop before starting to dust the other rooms.  She stopped when she reached the coffee table, and stared at the couch.  She could have sworn she'd put that pillow on her bed. 

"Hey, this place doesn't look bad," Dawn said in surprise. 

"No, it doesn't," agreed Buffy.  The pillow wasn't important, she thought.  Dawn and I are actually getting along and getting things done.  That's important. 

The dryer buzzed again, and Dawn went down to the basement.  Buffy went to fetch the vacuum cleaner, which had somehow wandered into Dawn's room, although there was no evidence of recent vacuuming.  Still feeling an odd burst of energy, she straightened the bed and ran the vacuum over the floor, then did the same thing in her own room. 

She did notice her pillow was definitely no longer on her bed.

Buffy pulled the vacuum out into the hall and regarded the door to Willow's room.  It was still shut tight.  She swallowed hard and started to walk forward.

Dawn ran up the steps, intercepting her.  "She's asleep.  I checked when I put the laundry away.  And I've got the clothes I bought at Goodwill.  You'd better make sure they fit before you have to get ready for work."

Knowing she was accepting this excuse too eagerly, Buffy turned back to her own room. The clothes fit well enough, although there was quite a lot of shirt to tuck in and she would have to wear boots with heels instead of her sneakers until she could hem the pants.  Which might be forever, because the last time I tried to sew I wound up bleeding more than I had in a month of patrolling.  She congratulated Dawn on her choices, checked the clock, and decided it wasn't worth changing back into her other clothes. 

"Good," said Dawn.  "Because they didn't exactly match.  I was worried you were taking fashion advice from Anya."

Buffy looked down at the pink top and green pants she'd picked out at random when Willow knocked on the door and found herself laughing.  She clapped a hand over her mouth and stared in the direction of Willow's room.

Dawn was suddenly very serious.  "Yeah.  Let's go downstairs and finish up."

As Buffy turned off the vacuum cleaner in the living room a few minutes later, it occurred to her that her sister shouldn't have the monopoly on awkward questions.  "Dawn, why did you say before, 'I didn't steal anything?'"

There was a long silence, long enough for Buffy to wrap up the cord and stow the machine away in the hall closet.  When she turned around, Dawn was standing in the hall next to her, looking embarrassed.

Buffy was relieved.  If it was something really bad, she'd either be giving me an innocent look or crying already.

"I took some stuff.  After mom died.  From Tara and Willow, and the Magic Box, and from Xander's place."  She ducked her head down, apparently studying her shoes.  Her voice dropped to a mumble.  "And maybe a few other places."

Keep calm, Buffy.  Shouting never works with her.  "Why?"

"I didn't know when I was doing it, but after Spike caught me and made me promise to leave all the stealing in the family to him, I talked to Tara.  She said she did something like that too when her mother died.  She said maybe because stuff had been taken from me, I was trying to take stuff back."

Ignore the disturbing Spike quote for now. This is about Dawn.  "The first kind of stuff being mom?"

Dawn nodded.  Her gaze was fixed firmly on the floor and her hair had fallen in front of her face so Buffy couldn't read her expression.  "And you.  After Tara said that, I didn't want to do it any more.  So I gave the things back.  Everyone was okay, except for Anya.  She went kind of batshit, but Xander talked her down."

"Okay."

Dawn looked up.  "That's it?  Just 'okay?'"

"It sounds like an old story now," said Buffy slowly.  "It also sounds like the others took good care of you while I was gone."

Dawn frowned.  "Yeah, they did.  They were okay.  They were kind of great even, until—"

Buffy finished her sister's sentence.  "Until they brought me back."

Dawn looked frightened at where the conversation was going, but before she could say anything, the doorbell rang.  Buffy, who had just realized what kind of scary territory they were entering, ran eagerly to answer it.

A plump, middle-aged woman with a purse hooked over one arm and a briefcase in her other hand was standing on the porch and scanning the yard as best she could in the twilight.  She turned to face Buffy.  "Hello."

"Uh, hi," said Buffy. The woman seemed to expect her to know who she was.  "Uh—"

"Ms. Kroger!"  Dawn's voice came from over Buffy's shoulder.  "Uh, hi, Ms. Kroger.  You remember my sister, Buffy.  You know, from your last social worker visit."

Buffy froze.  She remembered Willow boasting about how she'd programmed the Buffybot well enough to fool the PTA and a social worker.  She also remembered discussions of another visit looming in the near future.  She'd let the words float over her head, because it sounded like the Scoobies had a plan, and she didn't have the energy to get into a whole big discussion where she'd be expected to have opinions and ideas.

"Of course," said Ms. Kroger impatiently.  She stared at Buffy.  "May I come in?'

"Uh, sure."  Buffy stepped back.  The date.  The date.  When was the home visit scheduled?  Oh, no the date!  She forced herself to smile.  Now I feel like the White Rabbit.

Ms. Kroger stepped into the hall and looked around.  Buffy shut the door and turned, blinking with surprise at the condition of the house.  In her shock at realizing she'd forgotten this important visitor, she'd somehow also forgotten that she and Dawn had just cleaned the place up. 

And why did we do that?  It's not exactly normal behavior for the Summers girls.

Ms. Kroger didn't wait for an invitation to go into the kitchen and take a look around.  She opened a few cabinets, peeked inside the microwave, and didn't seem bothered by the glasses left on the drain board.  The only thing to cause a look of dismay was the very empty fridge.

If I say that I won't be able to afford groceries until I get my first paycheck, she’ll think I’ve been starving Dawn.  Buffy said weakly, "Well, at least it's clean."

Before Ms. Kroger could respond, Dawn rushed in.  "We had to toss all the food because we got sick with some horrible stomach thing the other day.  We were afraid it was from something in the fridge, so we got rid of it all.  We were going to go shopping later."

Buffy gazed at her sister in admiration.  She's so much better at lying than I am.  "Yes."  She rushed to back Dawn up.  "It was probably that echo laxity thing."

Ms. Kroger gave Buffy a look that convinced her to leave the rest of the lying to Dawn.  "You mean e-coli?"

Buffy just nodded.

To her relief, Ms. Kroger abandoned the topic, quickly checked the rest of the downstairs, peeked at the basement (fortunately cleared out just a couple of weeks ago after a flood), and started toward the staircase.

Dawn beat her to it.  "Uh, Ms. Kroger, do you remember our friend, who was here last visit?"

Ms. Kroger looked at her clipboard. "Oh, yes, Ms. Rosenberg.  The very nice young woman who shares the house with you.  I checked her references.  She's apparently one of the best students at the University."

"Yeah, well, unfortunately, right now she's, like, one of the sickest.  She's in her room, and we're not sure what she's got, and we think it may be contagious."

"Oh."  Ms. Kroger thought a moment, and then said.  "I won't disturb her.  Her room was fine last time.  I'll just check your rooms and the bathroom."

We didn't clean the bathroom! thought Buffy.

Dawn to the rescue again.  "Oh, the bathroom!  Um, I heard Willow in there just a few minutes ago.  It sounded like she was puking again."

"Oh."  Another pause.  "Well, that was fine last time too, so I'll just peek at the other bedrooms.  Why don't you come with me, dear, and we can talk while I do that."

Something was looking out for us today, Buffy thought. She sank down on the couch.  I wonder what it was.  And I hope it keeps looking after Dawn while that woman asks her questions.

Eventually, Dawn led Ms. Kroger back to the living room, where the social worker settled on the couch next to Buffy with a sigh, leaning back on a pillow.  "I'm glad to sit for a few minutes.  I had that terrible stomach virus too, and I'm still tired. It's nice the place is in such good shape I don't have to walk around writing up violations."

Buffy caught herself before she agreed enthusiastically.  There was no point in creating any suspicions that the place didn't always look this way.  It might lead to something really disastrous like the social worker opening a closet door or peeking under a bed.

Ms. Kroger was examining Buffy's clothes.  "That's a very conservative outfit."

"Oh."  Buffy looked down at her shirt.  "I wasn't trying to impress you."  And you have no idea how true that is.  "I have to go to work in a little while.  I'm a waitress."  Ms. Kroger was writing on her clipboard, which somehow compelled Buffy to dredge up more details.  "At The Hill of Beans."  More notes were made.  "Downtown."   She forced herself to stop before she could mention the nice demons who ran the place.

Ms. Kroger was nodding solemnly and didn't seem to expect any more.  "I'm glad you've found a job."  Her pencil made a decisive tick on the paper attached to the clipboard.  She looked up, catching Buffy trying to read the form, and smiled.  "Don't worry."

That was asking a bit too much, but Buffy did look up at Dawn to exchange a reassuring smile with her.

Now the social worker was standing and gathering up her purse and briefcase.

I think we did it! Now, if we can just get her out the door before Willow comes out of her room crying. As long as no one shows up at the last minute to wreck things, we should be fine.

The back door opened.  "'Lo, ladies!" called Spike. 

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