"Dawn, I want these dishes clean by the time I get back!" Buffy called out as she walked into the Summers' sun-lit kitchen, dressed in a black skirt and a white blouse. Her heeled shoes clicked on the tile floor.
"How long do you think your interview will take?" came the disembodied reply from the living room. Dawn, Buffy's teenaged sister, was lounging on the couch, watching TV.
Strategic ignoring of chore mentioning, Buffy thought, so not going to help."Can't say for sure. I guess as long as it takes to convey to the interviewer that I'm a hard-working, responsible employee, who's not at all prone to leaving my post at the drop of a hat for world saveage, and please, please, please hire me or else me and my dependent sister will starve? Dishes, Dawn. Clean dishes are A Good Thing."
"Okay, Martha, I'll do the dishes," Dawn said, strolling into the kitchen, where Buffy was putting on her official job interview earrings. "Hey, after the interview, which you're totally going to ace, can we go see a movie or something? My summer vacation is rapidly becoming a blurry nightmare of endless Road Rules marathon-watching."
Buffy, walking into the entrance hall to check the mirror, tossed a smirk at her sister. "We'll see. If this interview doesn't go well, even watching a shirtless Vin Diesel play spy won't be able to take my mind off the vast emptiness that is our family coffer."
Buffy evaluated her appearance in the mirror with the ruthless scrutiny of a former fashion plate. Clothes, earrings, makeup …classic, neat, scream responsibility, yes, all of the good. Buffy felt a quick pang of nervousness in her midsection. Sometimes she wondered how she could fight all manner of evil things with cool, steely resolve, but go all clammy hands and butterfly stomachy over a job interview. Wouldn't it be embarrassing if that third-time's-the-charm death occurred in some tastefully decorated personnel office somewhere, her having keeled over from the stress of having to name her worst flaw? That'd probably be a first in Slayer history. And, anyway, why couldn't the interviewer just sense that she was a good person who deserved a non-fast-food-serving, non-soul-deadening job? Why did there have to be questions and noncommittal mm-hmms and talking about yourself using only action words?
"What company is this interview for again?" Dawn asked from the kitchen. She was currently foraging for something to eat but, due to the aforementioned broke-ness, she wasn't finding much.
"Some company that just opened a new place in Sunnydale. Umbrella Corporation. They have a lot of positions open. I'm applying for a security position."
Dawn raised her eyebrows at that. "Security, huh? I thought it'd be a clerical job or something."
"Well, I figured, what with the Slayer strength and all, I could handle whatever kind of security situation they could throw at me. Barring hellgods, maybe." Buffy glanced at the clock. "Okay, I've gotta get going. Dishes, yes?" She paused, then said, "Oh, and go ahead and look up the movie times. I think today should be Vin day after all."
Dawn grinned. She had predicted that Buffy would be unable to resist the lure of inexplicably attractive machismo that was The Diesel. "Good luck in the interview!"
Buffy picked up her keys and purse, smiled at her sister, and walked out the door.