Start, Part Eight. The Call. Here we go. Own nothing. Bow to
Joss, blah blah blah. HIRE ME AND ALL THE BUFFY ANGST WILL END
HAPPILY!!!!! YES!!!! GO TEQUILA!
Thanks so much. Please review. It's my air water and food.
Tequila Sunrise
The next morning, Buffy woke and started breakfast. Halfway through the scrambled eggs, and Dawn's light step down the stairs, a knock sounded.
Thinking it Spike, she swung open the door with a smile. "Morning."
A man in a suit stood where Spike should be. "Ms. Buffy Ann Summers?"
Restraining herself from vomiting on the man's shoes from surprise, she nodded, a smile frozen sickly on her face. "Yes... Hi... Um... Hello. Please come in."
He breezed past her, into the living room, looked at Dawn. "Ms. Summers?"
Dawn's chin jerked up in automatic dislike. "Yeah. Dawn."
He waited for her to come down the stairs, and shook her hand. "Charles. Charles Donovan."
As the three moved to the kitchen, the front door slammed open, and Spike walked quickly in. He had seen the social worker's car. Now... it was showtime.
"Platelet! Buffy! Morning, doves!" He walked back into the kitchen, looked confusedly at the man sitting, sipping coffee. "Bullocks! That's today? Does Dawn have to miss? She has a History test today, you know." Spike glanced reproachfully at the man.
"I... Um... Yeah, Will. Um... Mr. Charles Donovan, Wi-"
"William Elliot." He shook the social worker's hand. "Nice to meet you." He held out a brown paper bag to Dawn. "Here's lunch, Niblet. Money in there for milk. You've sculpting classes after school, so I'll pick you and Janice up at four thirty."
Dawn nodded, not letting on her confusion. Art? Milk? Food-? Spike in cargo pants and a charcoal sweater?? Ohhhhh...hehe... She got it. "Right."
"You're sure you feel better, Dawnie?" This, from Buffy.
"She's ill?" Charles looked Dawn over critically.
"I think I ate something bad the other day at lunch, but I feel better. Teenagers. We heal fast, ya know?" She grinned.
Xander's horn honked from the drive, and Dawn shot out after it, grateful, and sorry she left Buffy there to shoulder things on her own. "Love you both. Have good days."
"So... Ms. Summers," Donovan began, "do you have anyone else living here?"
"Um... define 'living'." At his 'look', she rushed on, "Because, well... my cousin and his wife just flew in from... Europe. They're asleep right now, jetlag, you know, but they should only be here a few weeks."
"Hmmm..." He spared Spike a glance. "I'm sorry... Can we help you? This is supposed to be a meeting only with Dawn's guardians."
"And I'm going to be one, -sir-," he said slowly. "Buffy and I are engaged. So, Dawn will then be under my care as well. I'm here to see what can be done to help her."
Charles Donovan's countenance brightened like a child's on Christmas. "Truly? You're engaged?"
Buffy laid her hand on the table, allowing him a good view of the ring.
"It was my Mum's," Spike said softly, "And it went back generations before that."
"It is exquisite." And indeed, it was. Sterling, though an odd choice, was complimented by a sapphire marquise cut, and held to the band by two paper thin wire sterling hearts. It was untraditional, but so had William's line been.
Angel chose that moment to come up the stairs, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "Buffy, where's the-" He blinked at the small man. "Hello."
"Emmm... Angel, this is Charles Donovan. Dawn's social worker. Sir, this is Angel. Liam Angel."
The two shook hands, and chatted briefly while Angel trade blood for a bowl of Lucky Charms. Nodding, he took the bowl downstairs to eat, commenting on his hungry 'wife'.
"Rather dark fellow," Donovan remarked, after Angel left.
"Yes, he is... But we all love him, and he and Dawn get along really well. She was... definitely surprised to see him."
"Yes... Stable family is important at her age... Umm... What was this in your file, a pregnancy?"
Taking a deep breath, she held Spike's hand under the table in a death grip. "Yes.. I'm into my fourth month."
He frowned slightly. "I see... And this is why you and William are- "
"No." Spike's voice was the harsh tone he used with Angel in fights about Buffy. Loud and uncompromising. "I've loved Buffy for a long time. We've been engaged for a year and a half... But after her mother... After Joyce passed, things just got too busy, so we've just now started getting everything in order."
"Hmmm... I see. When is the wedding?"
Spike grinned, thinking back to their conception date. "Oh... March seventeenth, I think. Does that sound right to you, luv?" He brushed his lips over her knuckles, noting how white they were. Mmm... Bad idea. Note to self. Do not tease Buffy when SS guys are here. End note.
"Yeah... The seventeenth. That's right."
He nodded. "Well, I'll be going." They all stood, moving to the door, and Donovan said thoughtfully, "That's very good... Very good. You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that you two are getting married. It makes keeping Dawn in this home so much easier. In fact, I have to type up the paper, but it's my opinion that Dawn is being well cared for and should be kept here for future welfare."
Buffy's eyes welled up, and her knees buckled from under her. On a kneeling position on the floor, Spike instantly at her side, she whispered through her tears, "She's ours? We get to keep Dawnie?"
Donovan smiled slowly, remembering this was one of the reasons he chose this job. The pay sucked, the situations sucked, but sometimes... sometimes, you got genuinely good people trying to make it work. This was it. "Yes, Ms. Summers. Social Services will be leaving Dawn in your custody."
As Buffy wept, Donovan saw something that shocked him. William, on his knees beside his fiancee, to see if she was all right, was crying right alongside her, rocking her in his arms, a jubilant grin spread across his features, and the tears refused to stop falling.
Donovan went to exit quietly, but the couple stood, walked him to the door, and Buffy hugged him hesitantly, saying quietly, "Thank you for not taking my heart."
And Donovan had himself a real good day.
End, Part 8. I hope you like it. R and R. Please please. Next update probably Monday night.
Thanks so much. Please review. It's my air water and food.
Tequila Sunrise
The next morning, Buffy woke and started breakfast. Halfway through the scrambled eggs, and Dawn's light step down the stairs, a knock sounded.
Thinking it Spike, she swung open the door with a smile. "Morning."
A man in a suit stood where Spike should be. "Ms. Buffy Ann Summers?"
Restraining herself from vomiting on the man's shoes from surprise, she nodded, a smile frozen sickly on her face. "Yes... Hi... Um... Hello. Please come in."
He breezed past her, into the living room, looked at Dawn. "Ms. Summers?"
Dawn's chin jerked up in automatic dislike. "Yeah. Dawn."
He waited for her to come down the stairs, and shook her hand. "Charles. Charles Donovan."
As the three moved to the kitchen, the front door slammed open, and Spike walked quickly in. He had seen the social worker's car. Now... it was showtime.
"Platelet! Buffy! Morning, doves!" He walked back into the kitchen, looked confusedly at the man sitting, sipping coffee. "Bullocks! That's today? Does Dawn have to miss? She has a History test today, you know." Spike glanced reproachfully at the man.
"I... Um... Yeah, Will. Um... Mr. Charles Donovan, Wi-"
"William Elliot." He shook the social worker's hand. "Nice to meet you." He held out a brown paper bag to Dawn. "Here's lunch, Niblet. Money in there for milk. You've sculpting classes after school, so I'll pick you and Janice up at four thirty."
Dawn nodded, not letting on her confusion. Art? Milk? Food-? Spike in cargo pants and a charcoal sweater?? Ohhhhh...hehe... She got it. "Right."
"You're sure you feel better, Dawnie?" This, from Buffy.
"She's ill?" Charles looked Dawn over critically.
"I think I ate something bad the other day at lunch, but I feel better. Teenagers. We heal fast, ya know?" She grinned.
Xander's horn honked from the drive, and Dawn shot out after it, grateful, and sorry she left Buffy there to shoulder things on her own. "Love you both. Have good days."
"So... Ms. Summers," Donovan began, "do you have anyone else living here?"
"Um... define 'living'." At his 'look', she rushed on, "Because, well... my cousin and his wife just flew in from... Europe. They're asleep right now, jetlag, you know, but they should only be here a few weeks."
"Hmmm..." He spared Spike a glance. "I'm sorry... Can we help you? This is supposed to be a meeting only with Dawn's guardians."
"And I'm going to be one, -sir-," he said slowly. "Buffy and I are engaged. So, Dawn will then be under my care as well. I'm here to see what can be done to help her."
Charles Donovan's countenance brightened like a child's on Christmas. "Truly? You're engaged?"
Buffy laid her hand on the table, allowing him a good view of the ring.
"It was my Mum's," Spike said softly, "And it went back generations before that."
"It is exquisite." And indeed, it was. Sterling, though an odd choice, was complimented by a sapphire marquise cut, and held to the band by two paper thin wire sterling hearts. It was untraditional, but so had William's line been.
Angel chose that moment to come up the stairs, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "Buffy, where's the-" He blinked at the small man. "Hello."
"Emmm... Angel, this is Charles Donovan. Dawn's social worker. Sir, this is Angel. Liam Angel."
The two shook hands, and chatted briefly while Angel trade blood for a bowl of Lucky Charms. Nodding, he took the bowl downstairs to eat, commenting on his hungry 'wife'.
"Rather dark fellow," Donovan remarked, after Angel left.
"Yes, he is... But we all love him, and he and Dawn get along really well. She was... definitely surprised to see him."
"Yes... Stable family is important at her age... Umm... What was this in your file, a pregnancy?"
Taking a deep breath, she held Spike's hand under the table in a death grip. "Yes.. I'm into my fourth month."
He frowned slightly. "I see... And this is why you and William are- "
"No." Spike's voice was the harsh tone he used with Angel in fights about Buffy. Loud and uncompromising. "I've loved Buffy for a long time. We've been engaged for a year and a half... But after her mother... After Joyce passed, things just got too busy, so we've just now started getting everything in order."
"Hmmm... I see. When is the wedding?"
Spike grinned, thinking back to their conception date. "Oh... March seventeenth, I think. Does that sound right to you, luv?" He brushed his lips over her knuckles, noting how white they were. Mmm... Bad idea. Note to self. Do not tease Buffy when SS guys are here. End note.
"Yeah... The seventeenth. That's right."
He nodded. "Well, I'll be going." They all stood, moving to the door, and Donovan said thoughtfully, "That's very good... Very good. You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that you two are getting married. It makes keeping Dawn in this home so much easier. In fact, I have to type up the paper, but it's my opinion that Dawn is being well cared for and should be kept here for future welfare."
Buffy's eyes welled up, and her knees buckled from under her. On a kneeling position on the floor, Spike instantly at her side, she whispered through her tears, "She's ours? We get to keep Dawnie?"
Donovan smiled slowly, remembering this was one of the reasons he chose this job. The pay sucked, the situations sucked, but sometimes... sometimes, you got genuinely good people trying to make it work. This was it. "Yes, Ms. Summers. Social Services will be leaving Dawn in your custody."
As Buffy wept, Donovan saw something that shocked him. William, on his knees beside his fiancee, to see if she was all right, was crying right alongside her, rocking her in his arms, a jubilant grin spread across his features, and the tears refused to stop falling.
Donovan went to exit quietly, but the couple stood, walked him to the door, and Buffy hugged him hesitantly, saying quietly, "Thank you for not taking my heart."
And Donovan had himself a real good day.
End, Part 8. I hope you like it. R and R. Please please. Next update probably Monday night.