Chapter Twenty-One
Dawn slammed through the door with Buffy hot on her heels. This time, instead of letting the girl disappear upstairs to her room and headphones, she gripped her sister’s arm and spun her around. Angry, hazel eyes clashed with equally angry, blue eyes.
“You. Sit. Now.” Buffy said, staring holes into the seventeen year old. Dawn hesitated for a second, then turned on her heel with a disgusted huff to flop on the couch. “Don’t fucking move,” Buffy warned, turning and stalking into the kitchen. If she didn’t get away from that brat for just a few seconds, she was going to do something that she would regret. She walked in circles around the kitchen, running her hands through her hair, barely resisting tugging it out by the roots. *Of all the. . .* her mind started, conjuring up the scene that had played out barely a half hour ago.
When Buffy had walked into the office at Sunnydale High School, the first thing she saw was Dawn, sitting in the chair outside of Snyder’s office, looking decidedly guilty. She looked up at Buffy for the briefest instant, before finding something on the toe of her shoe extremely interesting. The second thing Buffy saw, was Connor McKenna. Younger brother of one Angel McKenna, ex-boyfriend extraordinare. If it weren’t for the fact the Buffy actually LIKED Connor, she would have been even more pissed than she already was, and that was a considerable amount.
“What the hell did you do?” the blonde hissed at her sister, after telling the secretary who she was. Dawn just clenched her teeth so hard, Buffy could practically see the dentist bills in her head. Connor looked extremely guilty, ducking his head, so his longish dark hair covered his face from her view. Buffy looked between the two expectantly, waiting for ONE of them to answer her.
Connor had glanced over at Dawn, and then up at Buffy, opening his mouth as if to spill. Just then, the office door swung open, and his parents stormed in. James and Darla McKenna strode straight past the sputtering secretary as if she were invisible and came to a stop next to Buffy. The older Summers had a hard time keeping the look of annoyance at the children on her face, now that she had to deal with the parents of her former boyfriend. She glared at Dawn for good measure, even though the girl had yet to look at her. Connor had also gone back to brooding at the floor, his face set in a hard mask of teenage rebellion.
“Should have known she’d be involved,” Darla sniffed, looking down her nose. Buffy turned and stared openly at the older woman, a gold brow arched into her hair line.
“Excuse me?” she asked, her face daring Darla to say that again. James glared at everybody in the small group, not caring who was the responsible party. He just wanted to get back to work. You don’t get paid if you don’t work.
“Darla, don’t start,” he said, turning his dark eyes to his wife. The blonde woman didn’t even acknowledge that he had spoken, but she didn’t say anything more. So, there the group sat, waiting for Snyder, a tense silence weighing heavily on them. Buffy kept stealing glances at the people who sired her ex and her sister’s partner in crime, wondering how two such different people had managed to meet and marry. It was no wonder where Angel and Connor had gotten their dark, handsome looks. They were both the spitting image of their father. But where Angel took after their mother, with all her haughty, hoish ways (it was no secret in town where she spent her Wednesdays, when she was supposed to be playing bridge. She was over at the butcher’s shop, playing hide the salami in the back room. That’s why Buffy only shopped at Safeway.) Connor was more like his father. Quiet and almost shy, he rarely talked unless asked a direct question, and even then, it was usually monosyllabic. He didn’t play football, like Angel did, and he didn’t cater to his mother’s every whim like his brother did either. He had his own plan, even though nobody knew what it was. And he and Dawn had been best friends since freshman year. Buffy had almost laughed at the irony.
“Mr and Mrs. McKenna, Ms. Summers. Please, come in,” Snyder said when he walked out of his office a few minutes later. Buffy wondered who he was trying to fool with his congenial, ‘hey, we’re in this together’ demeanor. Certainly not her, who had only escaped his reign of terror a few short years ago.
After they were all seated in his office, and the teens in question were standing against the back wall, Snyder sat behind his desk, and rested his chin on his steepled fingers.
“I’m afraid I had to call you today, because Connor and Dawn were caught smoking on school grounds,” he began, Darla immediately began to sputter, insisting that it was mistake. HER son would never have such a filthy habit. Buffy barely managed not to roll her eyes, allowing them to drift close so she could prepare herself for the rest. James just sat in his usual stony silence, anger plainly written across his features.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. McKenna. It is not a mistake. They were caught, together, by the janitor. But I am afraid that even as serious as this charge is, it was not enough to call you for.” Snyder was almost giddy as he said this. Buff had never seen a man so happy to get kids in trouble before. She pushed away several violent thoughts and waited. “You see, they were caught in the boys room on the second floor. Now, where that is a place for Connor, I can assure you, we do not allow our girls into those areas, Ms. Summers.” He looked directly at Buffy, his eyes a font of disapproval.
“Maybe the girls room was full,” she offered before she could stop herself. The sharp intake of breath to her right, let her know that Darla didn’t appreciate her humor. *Oh well, bitch,* she thought nastily.
“That’s neither here nor there Ms. Summers. The point is, she had no business being in there. And the only reason we can come up with as to why, is that they were going to engage in something more. . .inappropriate than smoking.” Buffy’s mouth dropped at that. Just what was that troll implying?
“We so were not,” Dawn protested, her slim body shaking with rage. She’d only slipped in there so they could have a smoke. The bathroom was empty, and it wasn’t her fault her best friend happened to have a penis. And it was either there or the girls room, but Connor had some weird fear of ‘girl spaces’.
“We were only talking,” Connor added, saying the most that Buffy had ever heard him say at one time.
Snyder glared at both of them, silencing them, before turning back to the adults.
“Now, seeing just how serious this is, we are going to have to suspend them.” That sent Darla off into another tizzy, her annoyingly shrill voice grating on Buffy’s last, barely hanging on, nerve.
“Why does our son have to be punished because she’s a slut?”
“What the fuck?” The older Summers spat, turning to glare daggers at Darla McKenna. “Who do you think you are? My sister is NOT a slut. Troubled, yes. But not a slut.” Snyder had been struck silent by the vulgar word that had fallen from Buffy’s mouth, and Darla’s mouth had snapped shut with a clack. James didn’t react at all, feeling that his wife’s assumption about Dawn was wrong.
“Ms. Summers, you will refrain from using that language in this office.”
“Or what? You’ll suspend me? Sorry, I graduated already,” she snapped, sitting up straighter in her chair.
“I expect that sort of talk from Dawn, not her guardian, who is supposed to be an adult.” Buffy just looked bored at that, anger simmering just beneath her skin. She was so going to kill Dawn for making her deal with this stupid crap. Snyder blew everything out of proportion, getting his jollies off making kids squirm.
“Oh, I am an adult, Mr. Snyder. Which is why I can speak however I want. How long is she suspended?” She was tired, and wanted to get out of here, before she was tempted to smack him over his balding head with his brass nameplate.
“Three days. And she will not be allowed to make up the work. She will have to take the zeros. And I am afraid that will not bear well with her already sagging grades.” That one sentence let Buffy know just what he thought of her parenting skills. She set her chin, and arched her brow at him, staring him down until he looked away. “The same punishment will be applied to Connor as well,” he told the McKennas. Darla surged to her feet, her blue eyes snapping with indignation.
“I will be calling the school board, Mr. Snyder. I will not have my son’s reputation sullied because of some trampy orphan.” *That’s it,* Buffy thought, shooting out of her chair.
“Do you believe the stuff that rolls out of your mouth? Or do you just not care? My sister is not a slut, a tramp, unlike some people in this town, or an orphan. And it might do you good to remember that, before you start hurling insults around.” The innuendo that Buffy’s statement produced was enough to have Darla snapping her mouth shut. Her eyes shot electric sparks as she glared at the younger woman. Buffy smirked, and turned back to Snyder.
“Fine, three days. No makeup. Got it. That all?” Snyder’s eyes narrowed at her flippant attitude, his distaste for the woman complete.
“Yes, that’s all. Another incident, however, and she could be removed from this school permanently,” he warned.
“That won’t happen,” Buffy promised, turning on her heel and storming out of the office, never questioning that Dawn would be behind her. The car ride home had been done in silence, Buffy too mad to speak, and Dawn too busy acting uncaring.
And now, here they were. Dawn on the couch, waiting for her sister to come back in and let her have it, and Buffy was in the kitchen, fighting the nervous breakdown that was inching closer by the second.
With one more push of her hands through her hair, she took a deep breath and went back into the living room to face her sister.
~*~*~
Dawn sat on the couch, waiting for her sister, trying to keep the look of bored disdain on her face. She knew she was up shit’s creek without a paddle, but showing fear was not an option. The fact that she hadn’t even been smoking wasn’t even brought up. Connor was, as he listened to her tale of seduction gone wrong, trying desperately not to laugh in her face. He got in a couple of “I told you so’s” before the janitor busted them, and dragged them straight to Snyder’s office.
She could only imagine what Buffy was going to say. She’d royally screwed up, twice, in less than twenty four hours. This wasn’t going to be fun. Then again, nothing had been fun between them since their mother died. Dawn had gone straight into ‘poor me’ mode, making life harder on Buffy than necessary. She knew it, and no matter how many times she had tried to curb it, the pain would make her lash out again, and she would get in trouble once more. She had a feeling that this was it, though. Buffy wasn’t going to put up with her crap anymore. She just didn’t know how far her sister would go to prove it.
Dawn looked up when Buffy walked in the room, the fury radiating off of her in waves. Giving a large huff, she shifted, and slung her jean clad leg over the other one, looked away, fighting the fear that clawed at her chest.
“Dawn. Look at me.” Buffy’s voice was calm. Dead calm, and that sent another rush of apprehension through the young girl. Forcing an eye roll, she looked over at her sister, and arched a brow.
“What?” she snapped, hoping she still looked bored.
“Don’t ‘what’ me, little girl. You are in so much trouble right now, you’re going to need a forklift to get out of it. I’ve tried to be understanding, Dawn. I really have. But, now, I’m done. There is no more understanding. You have been acting like a spoiled, self centered little brat since Mom died.” Grief lanced through both of them at the mention of Joyce, but Buffy pushed past it and went on. “This is not the first time you and Connor have gotten busted doing something stupid, and I’m tired of it. Yes, our mother died. It sucked. And we both miss her. But, Dawnie, life doesn’t stop because someone dies, no matter how much you think it should. Maybe you should have asked Spike about that last night instead of trying to play grown up and sleep with him.” Dawn’s face flamed at that, and she looked away. Tears burned behind her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to get rid of them. “I’m not going to ask what you were thinking with that little stunt, because I know what you were thinking. I hope you realize now how wrong you were, and that you could have possibly destroyed a very special friendship.” She waited a beat for an answer, not really expecting any. Sighing, she started to pace, gearing up for the big guns.
“There’s going to be some changes around here,” she began, using her fingers to tick them off. “First, you will start helping around the house more, and cooking dinner at least twice a week. I have a full time job, plus I have to help at the gallery when Giles needs it, so you need to start doing your share. Second, homework is to be done, and shown to me every night before you even think about getting on the phone. That is, when I decide to give you that privilege back. Third, if your grades don’t start to show improvement by the next report card, you can forget about Prom.” Dawn started to protest at that, but the words died when Buffy leveled her livid hazel eyes at her. “And, finally. If you ever pull another stunt like the one you did last night, or get in trouble at school one more time, I will call the social worker myself.” Dawn’s eyes widened to comical proportions at that.
“You wouldn’t,” she gasped, her lip starting to tremble. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Buffy would willingly send her to foster care? Impossible.
“Try me. I’m tired of this Dawn. And maybe I’m not the right person to be raising you if you hate it here so much. It’s up to you.” There, she was finished, and she had actually gotten the threat out. She had started to waver on it, before the call from Snyder had come in. Now, she knew it was needed. Dawn had to be let in on the fact that she couldn’t do whatever she wanted and not pay the consequences.
“I hate you,” Dawn spat, tears leaking from her eyes. Buffy merely tilted her head to the side, and regarded her with cool eyes.
“And I’m all you’ve got,” she said simply, the truth hitting Dawn painfully in the heart. She was right, she knew, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow.
“Fine,” she spat, pushing up from the couch and stalking upstairs, needing to get away from her sister. Buffy let her go, feeling the fight drain out of her. She hadn’t meant to be that harsh, but dammit, that girl had to learn. With a tired sigh, Buffy went over the couch and sank down into the soft cushions, wondering just when life got so complicated.
~*~*~
“Well, er, Anya. I was wondering i-if maybe, you would like to join me for dinner after work,” Rupert asked his reflection in the tiny mirror in his office. He scowled at his trial run, wondering why he sounded like such a git. *Because you are a git, old chap,* he told himself. He couldn’t believe that he was looking at his reflection, and practicing asking a woman out on a date. No, not date. Just dinner between co-workers. That’s all. Right.
Giles was feeling like a foolish old man. He hadn’t done this in years, and the last time eye had gone out with a woman, had been with Rosemary. There had been nobody since, and he had been relatively sure that there would be nobody after. But then, Anya had started making her intentions known. Nothing overly obvious. Just a brief touch here, or a well placed word there. He did find her classically beautiful, and she was witty and smart. They often had conversations about the art that filled the gallery, and he found her knowledgeable. He didn’t know why, but he felt comfortable enough around her to tell her what he had done to his son that morning, and they had shared a chuckle over it.
The only thing that Giles was still having a problem with, was their age difference. He was almost forty six, and she couldn’t be much older than Will. He felt like a dirty old man when he allowed himself to entertain thoughts of the romantic nature, and he didn’t know if he would ever get over it. Not to mention, he was terrified of what his son might think about him dating another woman. They had never talked about the possibility, both believing that it would never come up. But now that it had, Rupert was afraid that his child would turn on him.
“Rupert?” Giles spun around guiltily, and watched her enter his office. She looked stunning in her peach suit, her hair done up in a twist, and her makeup done with a light hand. She knew how to enhance her beauty, without making it look overdone.
“Er, y-y-yes, Anya. What is it?” he stammered. She smiled at the nervous habit, and handed him a clipboard. She was hoping he’d get over his shyness soon and ask her out. She didn’t think that he would survive if she took the initiative.
“I need you to sign off on the new shipment of Incan pottery,” she told him, raising her eyebrows expectantly, when all he did was stare. Giles blushed when he realized what he was doing, and immediately looked down at the clipboard in his hand, fumbling for a pen.
“Of course.” He quickly signed the paper and handed it back to her, their fingers brushing during the transfer. Their eyes locked at the surge of electricity that shot up their arms, and they stared for a long moment.
When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to say anything, Anya gave him a smile and turned to walk away. She vowed to herself that she would give him another week, then she was going to ask him out herself.
“Anya?” he called, not allowing himself to think. She turned slowly back to him, the discreet slit in her skirt exposing her leg up to her thigh. She smiled when she saw his eyes drop to study the limb before looking back up at her.
“Yes, Rupert?”
“Would you have dinner with me tonight?” he asked, amazed how easily the question flowed from his lips. Her smile spread wide, taking his breath away.
“I would love to.” She gave him a long, lingering look, then turned to leave to the office. Giles stood watching her, his own smile curling his lip.