Summary: A Shanshued Spike awoke in the custody of the Watchers’ Council after his fiery sacrifice at the end of BtVS Season 7. Although he does not personally recall his prior life, he has been told about it by the Council, who also set up him as a teacher in London’s public school system. Dawn comes overseas for a semester as an exchange student at the school where Spike works.
"You said you'd show us the buildings, not that you'd point and shoot! Come on, Spike. I won't bite if you don't want me to...." She blinked solemnly at him.
"What?" He blinked at her boldness. Before he could answer, he became extremely aware of how close she stood. With every breath, he took in her clean scent... strawberries and bubble gum, blast it.
This was so wrong... so wrong. He needed to pull back, to get her out of his personal space so he could bloody well think again.
"I know you won't," he muttered. "Just didn't think you'd need it. It's right over there." Lightly touching her back, he started across the campus. The quicker he dropped her off, the quicker he'd find some peace.
Just the hint of warmth, the light pressure from his hand in the small of her back, was enough to make Dawn go a bit weak in the knees, and she had to slow down a little, walk more deliberately. The subtle shifting of his hand over her back, its warmth, and the occasional brush of his suit-clad shoulder against her white blouse, were her entire focus. She was sure that, if he had cared to, he could have counted every delicate hair rising on her arms as a shiver ran along her spine.
He felt her shiver, glanced down to see what was wrong. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out... especially when he was having problems of his own. Pulling his hand back might be to concede that there was something... some sort of force between them. Instead, he kept his hand where it was, wishing he wasn't wishing he could just lean down and kiss her throat... just once. The view from above was just...
He took a deep breath. "Here you are. Have a good day, Dawn." Now that he moved away, he was able to smile. "Don't get into any trouble."
Even though she was pouting at the brush-off, Dawn couldn't help but respond to the pull of that smile, so familiar and yet all new. "Who, me? I grew up on the Hellmouth," she joked with a certain naive insouciance. "I had sleepovers with Trouble all the time!"
"Did you now? I'm not even going to ask who this boy named Trouble is," he grinned, then sobered. "Sometimes it drives me mad that I don't remember. If I seem different... you understand why?"
Touched, she nodded. It probably took a lot to admit that to someone whom he didn't really remember. Wait. He didn't really remember! Her eyes lit with mischief. "I'll talk to you about anything you want, Spike," she promised, turning to go into the building. As she opened the heavy door, long legs helping to pull its weight out of her way, she tossed him a grin over her shoulder. "Sometimes you were Trouble," she stated, and went inside.
His mouth dropped open... or would have, if he weren't quick to shut it. Damn her... now he was going to have to run back to his place and try to ease the strain in his pants to mental images of the sorts of trouble he might have brought her. Fuck... fuckity fuck... did she know what she was doing to him? Did she have an inkling? He let out another breath, and turned to go.