Once he’d loaded up the old DeSoto with what he considered to be a mind-boggling amount of baggage for such a short trip, the drive went surprisingly quickly. He had been a little worried about what he and Buffy would find to talk about, actually--but he’d somehow forgotten that Dawn could single-handedly carry the conversation for all three of them. After she’d regaled them with versions of every song in the traditional Disneyland canon, from the grating "It’s a Small World After All" to something involving a Tiki Tiki Tiki Tiki Tiki Room, she then moved on to all of her gossip from school, her opinion of her teachers, and various theories on the inner workings of the world. Somewhere around the forty-seventh minute of nearly uninterrupted Dawn monologue, Spike was seriously questioning the wisdom of voluntarily trapping himself in a small space with a hyper sixteen-year-old. Still, overall, he supposed it was worth it to see her happy. And Buffy was relaxing, too, inch by inch, as if every mile they put between them and Sunnydale drew some of the tension out of her body. And that was, in Spike’s world, unquestionably a good thing.

Both girls were sleeping now, Dawn sprawled across the back seat (seatbelt securely in place, at Buffy’s insistence), Buffy curled against the passenger door. It was a strange feeling, having them both there in the car with him, knowing he was responsible for them, knowing they were safe. Every once in a while he took his eyes off the road to glance at Buffy, watching for any sign of nightmares. But she just looked peaceful, her long lashes resting on her cheeks, shorn hair spilling over the darkened window. Looking at her, he ached with the need to touch her.

But you won’t, he told himself firmly, wrenching his gaze away from her and clenching his jaw. Even if it kills you--again--you won’t. He’d made himself that promise, even as he was planning this little weekend jaunt. This was supposed to be a vacation for Buffy, from everything in her life that was weighing her down. And, as much as he wished it wasn’t the case, he knew that their… relationship, whatever it was, was one of the things causing those shadows beneath her eyes. So, even though he had no intention of staying away from her permanently, he’d promised himself he’d let it go for these two days, make things easy for her. It was the least he could do, seeing as part of her suffering was his fault--he had a feeling he’d spend a good portion of the rest of his unlife trying to make up for failing to keep his promise. Failing to protect Dawn. In any case, Buffy deserved two days of freedom, and he was going to make sure she got them. Even if it drove him mad with wanting her.

He pulled into the hotel a little after nine o’clock, let both girls continue sleeping while he checked in. It had been a long time since he had done something so mundane as checking into a hotel; it felt strange, and made him wish for half a second that he could be human again. Then, looking at the pasty-faced front desk clerk, he remembered--Oh, yeah. Weakness, fear, pain, eventual death. Maybe not. He almost smiled dangerously at the clerk, just to watch him squirm, then thought better of it; he didn’t want to draw attention to them, or cause trouble for Buffy. Still, he was grinning as he headed back out to the car.

He slid into the driver’s seat, reached over to touch Buffy’s shoulder. She woke with a start, blinking fuzzily at him. "Spike? Where are we? Is Dawn--"

"Right behind you. Sleeping," he assured her quickly.

"Mmm." She was still half-asleep, rubbing her eyes like a child. "I thought… for a second… that night with Glory… and we were running…"

Damn, but she broke his heart sometimes. "You’re safe, love," he soothed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Then, as he could see the alertness returning to her eyes, he withdrew his hand and tried to sound more businesslike. "We’re at the hotel. Thought you’d rather sleep in a bed than in the car."

"Mmm," she said again. "Good idea."

She yawned and stretched, slowly, and lust shot through him. Gonna be a long sodding weekend, he thought ruefully, as he reached back to nudge Dawn. "Wake up, Niblet. We’re here."

"Mmmph." She batted his hand away.

He shook her a little. "Come on, Dawn. Time to go inside."

She rolled her shoulder, snuggling deeper into the seat. "Doanwanna," she mumbled indistinctly. "Sleeping."

He sighed. It was going to be one of those nights, apparently. He levered himself out of the car, opened Dawn’s door, and caught her as she slumped towards him. He unlatched the seatbelt and lifted her out of the car. She didn’t even stir as her foot caught the side of the open door. "Sleeps like the bleeding dead," he muttered to Buffy, "and I would know. Good thing she’s so light." She was giving him that appraising look again. "Get the door, would you, pet?" He jerked his head towards the car door, and Buffy slammed it shut. "Bags are in the back. I’ll come back out for them."

Buffy didn’t say a word, just followed him inside, into the elevator and down the hallway to their room. She watched in silence as he set Dawn carefully on the bed. He tried to tell her to stay put while he fetched the bags, but she just ignored him, heading back out towards the car. Finally, as they dropped the last of the bags on the floor of their room, she spoke.

"Spike."

"Yeah?" Truth to tell, he’d been a little afraid she was going all catatonic again. It was a relief to hear her speak.

She looked at him, hitching a shoulder. Looking incredibly vulnerable, though he knew she wasn’t. "Why are you doing this?"

He shrugged, uncomfortable. "I told you. You’re not happy. Either of you." Never been good at the touchy-feely stuff, have you, mate? "And that’s my fault, at least some of it. I know this is hard for you to believe, but… I want to help you, Buffy. And… this is the only way you’ll let me."

She just kept looking at him, till he couldn’t meet her eyes anymore. Then, so quietly he might not have heard it without his enhanced senses, she whispered, "OK."

He cleared his throat. "Right. Well. My room’s the next one over. Here’s an extra key." He held it out to her, and she slipped it in her pocket. "I’ll be right there if you need anything. Shuttle leaves every fifteen minutes in the morning, and here--" He shoved a small roll of cash into her hands. "For food, souvenirs, whatever."

"Food," she repeated, as if the thought had just occurred to her. "What are you going to eat?"

He grinned at her, glad for the change of subject. "Butcher shop down the street, luv. Refrigerator in the room. All the comforts of home."

"Oh. Good plan."

They stood there, the time stretching out, neither one speaking. Finally, he forced himself to speak.

"Well. Didn’t get my beauty sleep today, so… And no doubt she’ll have you up first thing in the morning." He gestured vaguely at Dawn. "Well." He realized he was making very little sense, told himself to wrap it up before he made even more of a fool of himself. "See you tomorrow night, then. Check in when you get back, so I know you didn’t get ambushed by any nasties."

He turned, started for the door. Then he felt her hand on his arm, and she was turning him around, stepping into him--

He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Virtue intact, remember, luv?" he whispered harshly. The two points of contact between them seemed to heat up instantly, and it cost him nearly everything he had to keep her those vital six inches away.

But it worked. She nodded, looking dazed, then nodded again. "Right. Sorry."

He smiled, and he was proud that it was only a little twisted with pain. "Right." He moved to the door again. "’Night, Slayer."

"’Night, Spike."

Out in the hall, he rested his forehead against the door briefly, trying to recover. "Good plan," had she said? Oh yeah, brilliant bloody plan. Spend two nights one room away from a woman you love but can’t touch. Hell of a holiday, that.

He yanked open the door to his own room, flung himself on the bed. Despite the fact that he hadn’t slept in nearly two days, he grabbed the remote and switched on the telly. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be sleeping much tonight.