Buffy took one look at Dawn’s tear-streaked face and Spike’s stricken expression and froze in the doorway to the living room, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice heavy with worry. “What happened?”

Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Dawn looked with an expression of dread and pleading toward Spike, waiting for him to speak and pronounce her doom, but he couldn’t seem to find the words. Really, it was nearly impossible to know where to even begin to explain.

When neither one of them seemed eager to respond, Buffy sighed and headed for the one who appeared to need comforting at the moment – her little sister. She moved to put her arms around her as she sat down in the space between them on the couch. Dawn allowed the embrace, breaking into fresh tears at the gentle touch.

Spike observed them for a moment, expressionless. “Yeah,” he said dryly with a sarcastic smile to Buffy. “Do that. Then get as bloody far away from her as you can so you don’t choke the life out of her when I answer your question.”

Buffy frowned again, pulling away a little to give her sister a questioning look. She looked back at Spike warily. “Will one of you just tell me what’s going on here?” she finally said in exasperation.

Dawn burst into tears again, and Buffy was surprised at the utter lack of sympathy she seemed to be receiving from Spike. Come to think of it, it was unusual that Dawn had been crying when she walked in, and Spike had still been sitting far enough away from her that she could fit between them, not making any effort whatsoever to comfort her.

She turned suddenly suspicious eyes on her little sister, frowning. “What did you do?” she asked slowly, understanding beginning to dawn on her.

“Oh, right!” Dawn replied in a voice of trembling, defensive sarcasm. “Just assume I *did* something! What if I didn’t do anything? What if – if *Spike* did something?” she suggested, eyebrows raised in an indignantly challenging look through her tears.

Buffy and Spike turned matching withering stares on her…and she wilted.

“Okay, so I *did* do something,” she admitted miserably, sniffing back tears. “But I had to! I was only trying to help!”

“Something tells me that whatever it was, it didn’t work,” Buffy said darkly, standing and moving around the coffee table to stand facing her sister, her arms crossed over her chest.

“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Spike muttered.

“Will one of you just tell me what’s going on?” Buffy replied in exasperation.

Spike saw that Dawn had no intention of being the one to do it, so he took a deep breath in preparation to speak the words he was dreading – and then didn’t speak them. He just didn’t know how to start.

“Well,” he began finally. “Right, then. Um…Buffy…first of all…there’s something you should know…about Anya…”

Buffy frowned. “What does Anya have to do with this?”

Spike hesitated for a moment, trying uselessly to think of a way to put it carefully, before he blurted out, “Oh, bloody hell! She’s a vengeance demon again!” He ignored the dirty look Dawn shot in his direction at his revelation of Anya’s secret.

*Buffy wouldn’t hurt Anya…won’t reject her just because of what she is…wouldn’t reject *me*…now that I’m…*

“What?” Buffy interrupted his thoughts in a stunned voice. “Since when?”

“Since she was given a reason to want some vengeance of her own, I’d wager,” Spike shrugged, trying to appear calm and casual, though his mouth was dry and his hands were trembling with anxiety. “At any rate…that’s why she came back here. To…to…” He stopped, his eyes dropping to the floor, unable to finish the sentence.

“For you,” Buffy finished it for him, her eyes widening with realization. “She came here to grant a vengeance wish for you against Warren.”

He nodded slowly, not looking up…and therefore not seeing the slow smile that spread unexpectedly across her face as she took in the words he had just spoken, not even hearing his hurried attempts at defending the vengeance demon. “She hasn’t hurt anyone, though, Buffy…besides Warren of course, and he’s still alive. And – and I think she’s trying to be good, Buffy, so you don’t have to get slay-happy on her…”

“What did you wish for?” Buffy interrupted suddenly, in a soft, oddly pleased sort of voice.

He looked up at her suddenly, startled by the tone of her voice. “I – I didn’t,” he replied, his wondering blue eyes focused on hers, trying to read the expression there. “I – couldn’t.” He paused before adding softly, “Dawn did.”

Buffy was silent for a moment, surprised. “Oh,” she finally responded, at a loss for words, her eyes widening as she looked between her boyfriend and her sister, one looking concerned and apprehensive, and the other appearing more miserable and guilty by the moment.

Suddenly, the darker implications of the various possibilities began to occur to her, and she realized that her almost gleeful reaction at the thought of Warren’s being punished was probably not exactly an appropriate response, at least not in front of her impressionable little sister who probably needed to be disciplined for actions that had arisen from exactly her same way of thinking.

“Oh,” she repeated, her voice heavier as she met Spike’s eyes in a moment of understanding.

She looked slowly back at Dawn, trying to make her expression stern, though the idea of Warren’s finally facing the suffering he deserved for what he had done to Spike made her want to laugh out loud. She knew that she hadn’t heard the whole story yet, but so far, she was having a hard time seeing the badness in the situation.

“What did *you* wish for?” she turned the question on her sister, trying not to look too eager to hear the answer.

But Dawn was very perceptive, and couldn’t have missed the fact that her sister seemed almost pleased with the idea of what she had done. Maybe, if she played this right, she could manage to keep it that way once Buffy learned the full truth of the story.

“I didn’t want Warren to ever be able to hurt Spike again,” Dawn explained cautiously, meeting her sister’s eyes and pleading silently for her understanding. “and I wanted to make him go through what he put Spike through – at least a little – to make him see how it felt.”

Spike let out a little hiss of disgust, shaking his head as he looked away. His expression was unreadable to Dawn, and for a moment she felt a little hurt, thinking that the disgust in his eyes was aimed at her.

But then she saw the meaningful look that passed between Buffy and Spike, just before her sister looked back at her and put into words the feelings expressed in Spike’s look.

“That’s just not possible, Dawnie,” she said in a soft, sad voice.

Dawn was silent for a moment before she replied quietly, “I know. But everybody else…the courts, even Spike…was just gonna let him get away with it.” She paused. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

Buffy was watching her intently, silent, expectant, waiting for her to answer the question she had asked her.

Dawn glanced nervously at Spike, who flinched almost imperceptibly in anticipation of Buffy’s reaction to the news that the chip was gone for good. He was trying desperately to hold onto his faith in the love she had for him, but struggling with the rising fear that it would not withstand this test.

Dawn took a deep breath before she reluctantly admitted, “I – I wished the chip out of Spike’s head – and into Warren’s.”

Silence fell over the room for a long moment as Dawn and Spike both waited uncertainly for Buffy’s reaction. Her mouth fell open a little in surprise, and her eyes grew wide, as she slowly processed the information, the tense seconds ticking by interminably for her nervous sister and lover as reality sank in for the stunned Slayer.

And then a slow, satisfied smirk spread across Buffy’s face.

“Now that’s what I call justice,” she said softly, her eyes glittering with a sense of triumph as she suppressed a laugh. “Go, Dawnie.”

Spike looked up at her sharply, surprised by her response, relieved, but a little concerned. “But that’s not all there is, love. Go on, Bit. Tell her the rest,” he said pointedly, catching Buffy’s eye in a silent message, willing her to understand the need to make Dawn see the gravity of her actions.

“I – I took the controller,” Dawn confessed. “That’s why it went missing. I – I had Anya chain Warren up in Spike’s old crypt, and I took the controller from Spike’s pocket, and went down there to – to teach Warren a lesson.”

Buffy looked stunned for a moment at the extent to which Dawn had taken things, but more by her sister’s personal involvement in the vengeance. Somehow it was infinitely more disturbing to her to hear that Dawn had been carrying out her vengeance *herself* than to think that she had simply made a wish and allowed Anya to make it happen.

Then Buffy frowned, confused, remembering her sister’s previous explanation for the missing control device. “I thought you said the controller was on the floor in Spike’s closet.”

Spike spoke up then, wincing slightly and closing his eyes as he hesitantly began his confession, terrified of her reaction to his dishonesty. During his captivity, the slightest offense had always been swiftly and savagely punished, without thought of mercy or compassion…certainly not forgiveness.

In spite of the kindness and love he had experienced since his rescue, he still did not see forgiveness as something that he was deserving of, and found himself expecting the worst. “I – I’m sorry, love. I wasn’t – I mean – I…” he fought to get the words out, his voice shaking dangerously.

“It was my fault,” Dawn broke in urgently, seeking her sister’s eyes, wanting to rescue her friend from the difficult admission he was struggling to make, and to be sure that her sister understood that he was not the one to blame. “I lied, Buffy. I’m sorry. I said that he’d found it so that you’d stop looking for the controller – but I had it all along.” She paused, dropping her gaze from the hurt and anger she saw in her sister’s eyes. “I didn’t tell Spike what I’d told you. So when you asked him about it, it was the first he’d heard of my story. He just – just didn’t…”

“I’m sorry, love,” Spike broke in, his voice soft and trembling, his eyes on the floor. “I should have told you the truth immediately. I just – I just didn’t know what to…” His voice broke off; his excuses and reasons did not sound strong, especially to himself. He felt a sense of shame washing over him, overwhelming him. He was undeserving of her love anyway, and here he had despised that gift enough to lie to her to her face.

He did not deserve her forgiveness.

And he did not expect it.

Buffy *was* a little upset that he had not been honest with her, but between their two halting, disjointed explanations, she had been able to piece together a sketchy picture of just what had happened, and in thinking back over the sequence of events, she could see how Spike had been caught off guard and caught up in Dawn’s little plan, feeling pushed into covering for her devious little sister. And it was obvious by his voice, his demeanor, that he was beating himself up over it even now.

No, Dawn was the one who had told the lie to begin with, who had been lying for weeks, apparently. As the story began to come together in her mind, she was beginning to understand why Spike had seemed so concerned by the whole situation when she had first walked in.

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, an unspoken reassurance, and he looked up at her through wide, vulnerable eyes, surprised at the gentle touch, the evidence of her acceptance and forgiveness. His eyes welled with tears of immense relief, and he lowered his head, drawing in a deep shaky breath to steady himself.

Buffy turned toward her sister with a tight, angry expression on her face. “I understand,” she said quietly to Spike, though she was not looking at him. “You were just put on the spot. Dawn, on the other hand…thought out a deliberate, complicated *lie* and told it to me.” Directing her words to her sister now, she added, “You thought it out, and *decided* to lie to me, Dawnie.”

There was no denying the accusation in her voice, or the fact that it was true.

“I’m sorry,” Dawn whispered. “I’m sorry, Buffy. I – I lied to Spike, too. I told him the controller didn’t even exist anymore – that I’d wished it out of existence. I just didn’t want either of you to stop me before I get done with Warren…”

“Wait a second,” Buffy interrupted suddenly, a little sharply, her eyes narrowing on her sister as something she had just said struck her. “So you’ve got Warren chained up in Spike’s crypt *right now*?”

Dawn’s total silence was all the response she needed.

It was true, she had fully intended to kill Warren herself for the horrific crimes he had committed against the man she loved. But she was just as disturbed as Spike had been by the idea of Dawn’s committing the act of murder, or torture, of another human being.

“Dawnie, do you know how dangerous this is?” she fairly exploded, her tone incredulous. “Do you know how much trouble you could have gotten in if you’d gotten caught?”

“I know!” Dawn moaned, frustrated. “Spike said the same thing…I’m *sorry* already, okay? But you know as well as I do that he deserves it!”

“I know,” Buffy admitted softly, meeting her sister’s eyes honestly. “But you don’t, Dawnie. You’re too young to be…throwing away your…your *humanity* on a creep like Warren who’s *so* not worth it.”

No one said anything for a few moments, each caught up in the turmoil of their own thoughts.

But then, Buffy finally spoke, softly and clearly, with a determination in her eyes. “But you’re right, Dawn. He does deserve it. And you said it before, Spike,” she went on, meeting her lover’s eyes gently. “As long as he’s alive…none of us are safe. He’s a psycho who’s gonna keep looking for a way to hurt us until he finds one. And he has to be stopped.”

She turned back to Dawn, her eyes shining with tears, and full of her deep love for her sister. “I know why you wanted to do it, Dawnie. But you know I can’t let you do that to yourself.”

Dawn nodded silently, swallowing back a hard lump in her throat as she blinked back tears.

“You mean so much more to me than that. And you’re so young, Dawnie,” she repeated, shaking her head slowly and sadly. “You shouldn’t have to give up your youth and innocence over a piece of garbage like Warren. You shouldn’t have to take on something like that, not ever.” She paused, before speaking her next startling words.

“That’s *my* job,” she said softly, in a voice of quiet determination.

“What?” Dawn’s eyes widened in surprise, and not a little worry. “Buffy, what are you going to do?”

“Do you have a key to the chains?” Buffy asked her, ignoring her question completely.

Dawn nodded, frowning slightly in confusion. “Why, Buffy?” she asked softly.

“I need it,” Buffy went on firmly, still not really answering her question.

“What are you going to do?” Spike asked her, his voice low, quiet and concerned, searching her eyes with a slight frown on his face.

“I’m going to take care of this mess,” Buffy replied grimly, not quite meeting either of their eyes.

Dawn took the key from her pocket and placed it in her sister’s outstretched hand, an expression that was both fearful and trusting in her emerald eyes. “What are you going to do, Buffy?” she asked again. “Why do you need the key?”

Buffy was already headed toward the front door. She paused at the door, her back turned to them, as if considering whether or not to answer the question. Then she finally replied, her voice quiet and hard with determination, “So I can get rid of the evidence.”

And with those startling words, she disappeared out the door into the night.