“So that’s the deal,” Dawn finished outlining her proposition for the demon sitting across the table from her, and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest and trying to appear nonchalant, though her heart was racing with a mixture of adrenaline and fear.

Anya sat beside her, not really participating in the negotiations, leaving it in Dawn’s hands. After all, this whole thing was Dawn’s “baby” so to speak, anyway. Anya just sat there and warily observed the creature sitting at the table with them, silently listening to Dawn’s offer.

Arashmar was a shape-shifter, and at the moment the form he was in was what he probably thought passed for human. And it did…mostly. His façade was nearly flawless – except for the chilling opaque blackness of his eyes, devoid of any light or color to betray his thoughts or emotions – assuming he had any. Like the cold, dead eyes of a shark.

Dawn forced herself to meet those terrifying eyes, even though she felt a shudder of fear run through her at the sight of them. Maybe it was because, although she had thought she could handle this, she was *not* her sister, after all, and did not have the experience Buffy had with creatures such as this one.

Or maybe it was simply because it was utterly impossible to read anything, any reaction or feeling whatsoever, in the depths of darkness in Arashmar’s eyes. However, she knew that he, on the other hand, would be able to read a lot from her inability to look him in the eye, and she steeled herself to meet his unsettling gaze.

“Sounds promising,” Arashmar conceded, his tone noncommittal. “I’ve only got one question for you, girl.” His deep, low voice was calm, and he smiled a chilling smile as he asked quietly, “Why should I wait a week to *pay* you for this deal – when there’s a perfectly good prospect sitting right here in front of me – alone and unclaimed – unprotected?”

Dawn felt her heart jump up into her throat, but forced herself to keep her expression cool and composed. “Because I really don’t think you want to give the Slayer a personal vendetta against you.”

“The Slayer?” he scoffed. “This is the Hellmouth, child,” he informed her derisively. “It takes more than one missing girl to bring down the wrath of the Slayer. I seriously doubt she’s going to go out of her way to come after me because of *you*!” His tone was full of contempt, and unmistakable menace.

“Yeah?” Anya broke in, a smug smirk on her face as she spoke for the first time during the conversation. “One missing girl might be *exactly* what it would take to bring the Slayer down on you…if the girl happens to be her little *sister*!”

Arashmar leapt suddenly up from the table, overturning his chair behind him as he did, staring open-mouthed at the girl sitting calmly in front of him.

“You’re the – you’re the *Slayer’s* sister?” he sputtered in a mixture of anger and fear, the intense dramatic tone of his voice dropped. He no longer sounded the least bit intimidating to Dawn. “This conversation is *over*!” He swept his hands out in front of him in an emphatic gesture. “Making a deal with you could end up getting me killed!”

“*Not* making a deal with me *will* get you killed,” Dawn immediately replied, her voice quiet and a calm smile on her face. Anya’s eyes shot to hers in surprise at the hard note that was suddenly in her voice. “I promise.”

Arashmar stood there for a moment, staring back at her. His eyes were of course blank and expressionless, but his fear and frustration at the little girl’s threat, and it’s very real power, were both obvious to Dawn.

“Why don’t you sit back down?” she suggested innocently, her eyes sparkling with triumph as he slowly complied, his dark, unsettling eyes locked on her in suspicion.

Dawn was practically bouncing in her seat with satisfaction and a childlike glee that was vaguely unsettling to both the demons sitting with her. Anya was impressed. Dawn was standing up to this considerably intimidating creature – and completely turning the tables on him. Now *he* was the one sitting down and listening meekly, and little Dawnie was in control of the conversation.

*Must run in the family,* Anya thought with a slight shrug.

“So. Do we have a deal?” Dawn asked softly, still smiling brightly at him.

There was a long pause before Arashmar grumbled in a low voice, “I suppose we do.” He looked down at the table for a moment, frowning thoughtfully, before looking back up at Dawn. “I just don’t see what you’re getting out of this,” he went on, suspicion in his voice. “I’m the only one who seems to be benefiting from this little deal, and I know better than to trust that. That sort of thing is always, *always* too good to be true. What’s in it for you?”

Dawn’s smile widened, and her voice softened in a chilling way, full of a menace that was frightening in the voice of a girl so young, as she replied immediately, “Revenge.”


“Well. Go, Dawnie,” Anya said as they stepped out of the bar onto the busy street and headed back toward the house. “Where’d you learn to be so freakin’ scary?”

“Hmm…let’s think, Anya,” Dawn said in a dry, overly patient voice. “My sister’s the Slayer, and my best friend’s a master vampire. Where do you think I might have picked the scariness up?” Then she smiled, her eyes suddenly warm as she looked at Anya. “It’s all coming together,” she said in a confiding tone, her excitement evident. “I think we’re actually ready. Is the place all set up like I asked you?”

“Ready to go,” Anya affirmed, nodding. A slight frown creased her brow as she looked Dawn in the eye with some concern. “I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t let me just do it all…just like that,” she said, snapping her fingers. “I mean, you could have wished it all into being without having to do all the tedious set up and meeting with demons in demon bars and all.”

“I told you already, Anya,” Dawn reminded her quietly, turning away and walking again down the sidewalk. “This is personal. I want for Warren to *know* exactly why this is happening to him. I’m gonna make him pay *myself* for what he did to Spike.”

Anya was silent, not having any response. It bothered her to hear the cold, bitter sound in the young girl’s voice. She agreed that Warren deserved to suffer, and badly, for the cruelty he had inflicted on Spike.

She just wasn’t so sure that it should be at Dawn’s hands…for Dawn’s sake.

“Well, let’s do this then,” Dawn said suddenly, stopping in mid-stride on the sidewalk and turning to face Anya again, looking her in the eye with a firm resolve of determination. She hesitated for just a moment, before she began solemnly, “I wish…”

“Wait a second,” Anya cautioned her, suddenly feeling very apprehensive about the whole affair, thinking fast to come up with a reason to stall the girl, not even knowing exactly why she wanted to stall her. “Don’t you think..don’t you think you should find out what Buffy’s planning before we do this? If she does something and finds out what you’re doing before it’s done, it could really mess things up. These vengeance wishes are very touchy…any interference could be pretty dangerous.”

Dawn frowned, impatient and frustrated, but seeing the reason in the words Anya had just happened to come up with off the top of her head. “You’re right,” she grumbled, her lips turning down in a pout. “You suck…but you’re right.”

She perked up a little as she looked back at Anya and declared firmly, “But first thing tonight…when Buffy leaves for work and everyone goes home…we’re doing this. No more putting it off. It’s time for Warren to pay.”


“Oh, shoot!” Buffy gasped, suddenly yanking herself out of Spike’s arms and scrambling awkwardly to her feet, looking wildly about them for her discarded clothes.

She didn’t remember dozing off, in the blissful haze that had surrounded them, but somehow she was just now waking up…and it was exactly an hour since she had told Xander to get the gang together.

Spike let out a disgruntled little whimper of protest at the loss of contact. “Buffy,” he mumbled sleepily, a slight whine in his voice and a pout to his lips as he looked up at her – and she found neither annoying, and both absolutely adorable.

“We’re late, Baby,” she explained quickly, giving him a soft, apologetic smile, as she pulled on her shirt and hurriedly buttoned it, then swore softly and tore the buttons open again to rebutton the shirt correctly. “Everybody’s gonna be at my house waiting for us, and we’re gonna come waltzing in late looking like – like…”

Her eyes fell on him, and her words broke off at the look in his dark blue eyes.

He was leaning up on one arm, watching her boldly as she dressed, unashamedly admiring her with a look that was worshipful and wicked in his eyes, a slight smirk playing about his perfect lips. “Like we just shagged each other silly for an hour?” he supplied helpfully.

Her expression slowly softened to a smile as she met his gaze, and shrugged. “Well… yeah,” she replied, her voice low and husky, as she knelt down on the mat beside him, leaning in close and putting one arm around him with a wondering expression in her eyes – as if seeing him for the first time…again. She knew she had to get ready to go, that they were already ridiculously late, but suddenly she just wanted to be close to him again.

“And that would be bad?” he questioned, reading the awe and adoration in her eyes and matching it with his own, feeling a thrill at realizing again the depth of affection she had for him.

She shook her head and whispered, “No…not bad…” as she leaned down to kiss him, slowly, thoroughly, and he fell back down onto his back on the mat.

When she pulled away from the kiss to look him in the eyes again, he whispered in a voice that was both teasing and affectionate. “Well…in that case…maybe it’d be even better if we’d been shagging each other silly for *two* hours?”

She laughed softly, a low, sensuous sound in her throat, as she kissed him again. “But by then they’d be gone…and they’d miss the whole thing anyway,” she pointed out.

He shrugged. “Can’t say that I’d mind. Give us more time to ourselves.”

She sighed in a resigned sort of way and pulled back reluctantly. “No…we’ve gotta go on over there. Everyone’s meeting to plan a way to get rid of your stupid chip…and then get rid of stupid Warren. We can’t really skip out.”

She got up and pulled her skirt back on, as he slowly rose from the mat behind her, a thoughtful frown on his face as he considered her words.

“Buffy, love,” he said quietly, a little hesitantly, as she turned to face him once she had finished dressing. “Is there…do you really think…”

“What?” she pressed him gently, coming close to him and putting her arms around his waist in an affectionately possessive manner.

“Do you think there even *is* a way to get this soddin’ chip out, love?” His eyes were wide and wondering, searching hers. He hadn’t really even considered the possibility since his rescue from Warren’s house. The thought had honestly not crossed his mind.

Buffy’s face hardened slightly into a firm resolve, but her eyes were still warm and reassuring as she said quietly, “There has to be. And I’m gonna find it.” She shrugged after a brief silence, before suggesting, “Maybe there’s a spell or something. If there is, Willow and Tara can find it. Or…or a doctor, or…”

“No Initiative doctors, Buffy,” he said quietly. “Don’t want anyone poking around in my head anymore, love.”

“No, of course not,” she assured him, reaching up a hand to run her fingers gently through his hair. “You’re right. But there has to be a way. We have to get that thing out, so no one can ever control you again, Baby.”

He didn’t reply, just looked at the floor for a moment, before pulling gently away from her embrace to finish getting dressed. As they finished getting ready to go, he could tell that his silence concerned her. She was worried about him, wondering what he thought about the idea of having the chip removed.

The truth was, he really didn’t know what to say at all.

He didn’t even know what to think.

For years all he had wanted, all he had thought about, was getting the bloody chip removed. Now, the thought of it actually taking place, of Buffy *helping* him make it happen, simply floored him…as did the thought of actually being free from the tiny piece of silicon and wire that had dominated his life for so long.

It had become so firmly entrenched in his life, his mindset, that he hardly remembered what it was like before he had had it.

And as he began to remember what it had been like, an uneasy feeling began to come over him, as the beginnings of new worries began to take shape in his head.

For her part, Buffy managed to somehow keep silence, to not push him to tell her what he was thinking about, what was bothering him. She was learning to resist the urge to attempt to control him, to press him to go along with her wishes, and allow him to make his own decisions and assert control over his own life.

Finally, just as they were about to walk out into the Magic Box, he said quietly, and a little reluctantly, “Buffy…”

“Yes?” she asked him, her voice soft and neutral, but with an expectancy that she couldn’t hide.

“Are you sure…are you sure you *want* to…to get the chip out?”

The question stunned her, and she turned quickly to fully face him, her green eyes full of confusion as they searched his. “Of course I do,” she finally answered, after a silence in which she tried to understand where this was coming from. “But…this is about what you want, Spike. Don’t you want it out?”

He did not respond for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Yes, love. I want the thing out. But – but if it is…then…will you…” He hesitated, not sure how to say what he was thinking, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

And suddenly she understood.

Her expression softened with the comprehension of what was troubling him, and she reached a hand to tenderly touch his cheek, drawing his eyes back up to meet hers. “Spike,” she said softly. “I trust you.”

He shook his head, starting to interrupt, looking down again.

“No,” she said firmly. “I trust you, Spike. I know that you don’t need that chip to keep you from hurting people. That chip hasn’t worked on you with anyone but Warren in a long time, and you’ve been free for almost a month now…and you haven’t hurt anyone.”

“ ‘Cept Xander,” he pointed out, his voice low.

She suppressed a smile and conceded, “Except Xander. But you know he had it coming real bad.”

“Bloody right he did.”

She let out a soft laugh, before it faded out and her eyes became serious. “Spike…look at me,” she said in a quiet, firm voice, and he obeyed, his blue eyes anxious and troubled. “I know that you can do good, without the chip. I know you can. And you have to be able to defend yourself.”

“If there’s one thing this whole thing has taught me…it’s that humans can be every bit as evil as demons,” she went on, her tone somber and sad. “You have the right to protect yourself from Warren or anyone else who tries to hurt you. And just because you can, doesn’t mean you’re going to go back to the things you used to do.”

She paused before continuing, her deep gaze penetrating and seeking. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be completely honest with me,” she said softly.

He nodded, swallowing hard as he bravely met her gaze.

“Do you *want* that, Spike? Do you want to be the way you were before the chip?” she asked him simply.

He looked at her for a moment, before shaking his head slowly. “I don’t want to be a killer, love. Not anymore. I – I guess I haven’t really wanted that for a long time…long before all this.”

She looked deep into his eyes for a moment, then nodded, satisfied. “Then that’s it. You don’t have to be. You control your own life, Spike…from now on. And I believe in you. I believe you can do this, without the chip, without anything holding you back but *you*.”

His eyes welled with tears at the simple words that meant so much to him. She believed in him; she trusted him to be the man she wanted and deserved, all on his own without anything forcing him to be.

And as he put his arms around her, embracing her, unable to express in any other way the depth of love and gratitude he felt for the gift of her trust that she had just given him, he made a firm determination in his mind. He would be what she needed, and prove her trust well-grounded.

He would never let her down again.