Part 2: Little Girl
Dylan sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window. Her father hadn't said anything since they had left the school, and she knew he was really mad at her. Him yelling, telling her she shouldn't do things like that, she could take. When he was silent like this…It just wasn't right.
"So, how long am I grounded?" she asked lowly, still staring out the window.
Spike glanced over at his daughter, considering his answer for a moment before saying, "Until I take up sunbathin'."
"Dad," she groaned.
"Don't 'Dad' me, Dylan," he told her. "What were you thinkin'? What have I told you about fightin'?"
"That it's not enough to beat your opponent, you have to humiliate them too," she deadpaned.
"Dylan," Spike said sternly, warning her that he was in no mood for this.
Sighing loudly, she slouched back in her seat. "Not to do in public because it causes too much attention," she repeated the lecture she had received from everyone over the past few years that she had been in school. "But, Dad, you don't know Bobby Martin. He's really the one that started the fight."
"Yeah, and you sure as hell finished it," he added, colder then had meant to be. Dylan shrunk away from the tone and looked as if she might start crying, causing him to sigh. "Look, poppet, I want you to be able to fight and defend yourself, and I'm glad you can. But you broke the kid's arm in three places. I'm probably goin' be bloody sued because of that."
"Sorry," she said lowly, ducking her head. "I didn't mean to hurt him so badly."
Pulling into the driveway, Spike killed the engine. He wasn't so much mad at her as he was worried. She was only seven, but she didn't act much like a kid. Giles had been right about her being smart; she's as sharp as a tack she is. But that intelligence also seemed to isolate her from the other children, besides Jessie and Van who had grown up with her. Throw in the fact that she had inherited his short temper and his and Buffy's superhuman strength that was already starting to show, and you have the makings of a great juvenile delinquent.
"I know you didn't, pip," he told her, touching the side of her head. She smiled gently at him, before he continued, "But you're still grounded for the next two weeks."
"Dad!" she exclaimed, horrified at the idea of being stuck in her room for that long.
"Sorry, pet, but you did break the boy's arm."
Dylan began to pout, causing him to laugh slightly. God, she really did look too much like her mother sometimes.
"That's not goin' to work," he warned, getting out of the car. "Now, come on. Niblet probably has dinner waitin' for us."
"Oh goody," Dylan said sarcastically, getting out the car and walking around it to stand with her father. "Should I go ahead and get poison control on the phone?"
Spike chuckled at his daughter while they headed up the walk to the front porch. "Be grateful, pip. Compared to your mum, Dawn's a five star cook."
"Dad, Gram's coming home soon, right?"
"One can only hope, poppet," he said as they walked into the kitchen that now had an over powering stench of something burning. Never had he been so glad in his life that he didn't need to eat food. "One can only hope."
**********
Buffy walked along the sidewalk quietly. Things seemed different, wrong somehow. For one thing, it was rather warm outside, like a nice fall evening instead of the cold winter one that she knew she had left behind. And it wasn't raining anymore; there wasn't even any sign that it had rained in several days.
A few people passed her on the street, but none of them paid her any attention, not even with the large blood stain in the middle of the shirt. Got to love the population of Sunnydale sometimes. Ignorance is most definitely bliss.
She paused in front of the shop that had been a clothing store yesterday, but today was a book store. Okay, this was really too weird. She had just been in there last week buying Dawn a blouse for Christmas, and now they were displaying their latest shipment of Greg Iles' new book?
"Cash! Cash come back here!" she heard a child exclaim from down the street.
Buffy looked up just as a little boy, maybe four-years-old, came running at her, giggling wildly and completely oblivious to the danger he was in. This was Sunnydale, and a kid was running around outside after dark, alone?! God, were his parents just the stupidest people on the planet?
The little boy had his head down, so Buffy moved back to where he ran right into her. He hit her legs, causing him to bounce back gently and fall towards the ground. She caught him before he hit, and he looked up at her with wide, brown eyes.
"Hey," she said in a soothing tone as she bent down to his level. "What are you doing out here all by yourself so late, huh?"
"Cash!" the other child's voice called again as a young girl of about seven came jogging up to them. "I told you to not to run off like that. Mom and Dad won't like it."
The little girl's eyes became as wide as her brother's when she saw that his path was being blocked by a strange woman. Cautiously, the little girl approached her brother, trying to keep out of Buffy's reach while, at the same time, being able to grab her baby brother. Smart kid. The slayer smiled at the little girl, held her hands up, and took a step back to show her she wasn't going to do anything to them. The little girl wrapped her hand around her brother's wrist and pulled him back towards her like she would be able to protect him from the stranger.
"You two shouldn't be running around after dark," Buffy warned. "It's dangerous out here."
"We know," the little girl answered. "But our Mom's store is right here, so she'll be able to hear us if we scream."
Buffy knew that the child was trying to warn the adult that others would come if they called, but, in Sunnydale, they might not ever get the chance.
"Well, I think it would be a good idea if you go to your Mom's shop and wait inside with her."
The little girl nodded at the suggestion and practically was dragging her little brother with her as she ran back down the sidewalk. A car backfiring distracted Buffy for a moment, and by the time she turned back around the children had disappeared into one of the shops. Satisfied that there were no vamps around that could have grabbed the kids, she continued down the street towards the Magic Box.
There was something familiar about those kids. She couldn't shake the feeling like she had seen them before. Maybe it was when she was at the doctor's office when she took Dylan for her booster shot. Yeah, there had been a lot of kids there that day. She must have seen them there. After all, it wasn't like Sunnydale was that large of a town. It was possible that she had seen them before.
Buffy ignored the 'Closed' sign when she reached the Magic Box and walked inside without a thought as to when Giles had gotten a new hand carved sign for the store. The bell rang out brightly when she stepped inside, and was soon followed by a rather annoyed grunt.
"Can't you read?" a man asked her, stepping out from behind the counter. "We're clo-"
He paused mid-sentence when he saw who had just walked into the store, his eyes like saucers as he stared. Buffy's brow grew into a straight line when she saw the strange blond man that the voice belonged to. "Who are you?"
"I-um…you…." his voice cracked several times before he gave a nervous glance over his shoulder towards the storage room. "Anya," he squeaked before he cleared his throat and called with more confidence, "Anya! Get in here! Now!!"
From the back room, Buffy heard some movement, then the familiar little girl's voice. "But, Mom, he was the one that ran off!"
"I don't care, Jessie," Anya answered, as she appeared in the doorway, the little girl and boy with her. "I told you to watch him. You didn't. Xander says that means you have to be punished."
The little girl groaned loudly in aggravation while Buffy could only stare. That was Jessie? But Jessie was just a baby, not a little girl. No, there must be some mistake.
Anya jerked to a stop behind the man when she saw why he had called her. Her once short blonde hair had grown back out to the long dark hair she'd used to have, and her clothing was much more suited for a sensible business woman than the young woman Buffy remembered.
Still, the ex-demon shifted her weight onto one foot, crossed her arms, and asked with a sigh, "You just can't stay dead, can you?"
Buffy jerked her head up to meet Anya's gaze, confusion etched on the slayer's face. "Huh?"
**********
Dylan lay on her stomach, stretched across her bed with her laptop opened. With her grounding officially starting tomorrow, she figured she might as well get in some quality time with the machine before it found its way into her father's closet for the duration of her punishment. If she had to use the computer, she would have to use the family one downstairs, and would be checked in on to make sure that she was using it for nothing but school work. Getting punished really sucked, but the look on Bobby Martin's face when she waylaid him was worth it. Show him for being a bully to all of them 'baby second graders'.
Dylan smiled as she watched the computerized chessboard and her opponent move his Rook, leaving his King open. She moved in for the kill shot, and smiled when she put him in checkmate.
The instant messenger popped up at the bottom of the screen.
ChessMaster: Nice move, Poppet.
Poppet: u know better than leave your King open like that, ChessMaster. u made it too easy.
ChessMaster: Sorry you think that. I'll try and be tougher on you next time.
Poppet: that might b awhile. I'm grounded.
ChessMaster: Grounded? Another fight?
Poppet: yeah. got suspended too. guess how well my dad took that?
ChessMaster: He's just worried about you.
ChessMaster: Did you win?
Poppet: u know it. LOL.
A gentle knocking came from the door, drawing Dylan's attention away from the screen. Her father stood in the doorway with a half smile. "Time for bed, pip."
She nodded her head, then typed; Poppet: got to go. warden says it's time for lights out.
ChessMaster: Alright then. Goodnight, Poppet.
Poppet: night, ChessMaster.
As Dylan signed off, Spike walked over and sat down beside her on the bed. "I still don't know how you and the Niblet can spend all hours of the day on those damn things. What can you possibly do for that long?"
"Well, I don't know about Aunt Dawn, but I mostly play chess," she told him as she twisted on the bed and crawled under the covers. "I got kind of tired of always kicking yours and Grandpa Giles' butts."
"Hey now. We let you win, you know."
"Dad, you haven't let me win since I was five," she pointed out, raising one eyebrow as if he were insane.
Spike chuckled at the girl. Sometimes she was a little too smart, or observant, for her own good it seemed. Yes, he didn't particularly like loosing to his seven-year-old daughter in chess, but he knew the Watcher hated it even more when she beat him at chess when she was still only five. He had wished he had a camera when he saw Giles' expression when the old man realized she had him in check mate for first time, and Dylan was sitting there clinging onto Mr. Gordo, not understanding why Grandpa Giles was so upset.
"No, Giles' hasn't let you win since you were five. I just haven't been playin' you since you beat me," he told her, grabbing Gordo off the floor and resting the stuffed pig in her arms. "Speakin' of Giles, I talked to him earlier, and, since you'll be havin' some extra time on your hands this week, you'll be spendin' it helpin' him index and categorizin' those Watcher Diaries of his."
"What?!" she exclaimed, sitting up slightly in bed. "Can't I just train or something?"
"It's called a punishment, pet," he said. "Think of it as an add on to your original punishment since you felt compelled to not only break that boy's arm, but in three places no less. So you get to be grounded at night, and be helpin' the Watcher in the day when I'm asleep and the Bit's at school."
"S'not fair," Dylan pouted, falling back into a comfortable position in bed.
"No one said anythin' about life bein' fair, pip," Spike said. Or your Mum would be here doin' this instead of me, he added silently. He bent forward and kissed the girl on her forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow before Dawn takes you over to Giles'."
"Okay," she smiled, nestling into a comfortable position. "Night, Dad."
"Night, poppet."
"Night, Aunt Dawn," she called towards the doorway.
Spike turned around and found that they had an audience for the bedtime talk. Dawn smiled at him sweetly, then said to her niece, "Night, Dill."
He stood from the bed, turned off the tableside lamp, and grabbed the computer off the end of the bed before joining Dawn in the hallway. When the door clicked shut, she said, "Giles just called. He wants us both over at the Magic Box ASAP."
"Not another bloody apocalypse," the vampire said, sounding more annoyed than afraid.
"Na. I don't think it's that," she told him. "Though, he did sound kind of freaked about something."
"So, who's goin' to watch the poppet?" he asked, nudging his head back towards the door.
"Mrs. Montello's already waiting downstairs." When he raised an eyebrow at her being able to get someone so fast, she added, "See, help someone out and they'll return the favor."
He shook his head at her before the two set off for the Magic Box.
**********
The boy sat in front of the chess board, staring at the pieces while the firelight played off them. Their shadows battled on the black and white checkered board in an endless, silent war. Black and white, good and evil, one pinning their strategy against the other in an effort to rule the board; that was the game of chess. He had been told that people with a mind of strategies were people to be fear because strategies are everything in the game of life. Chess, he had been told, is like life like that. You don't learn how to play the game; you learn how to win.
He heard a constant clicking sound approaching, but didn't look up even when the large shadow was cast across the board, killing all the other shadows in a single swoop. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the light reflect off the silver, panther head cane that had caused the clicking sound.
There had been many a day he had spent studying that panther head cane. Some days, it was for pure fascination of the piece. It was sleek, elegant, something a true gentlemen in his upper years would use. Other days he had gotten a closer look when he hadn't wanted to. It was a painful source of discipline, but he had always deserved it. He knew his place and the panther head cane had shown it to him.
"How much longer will we be staying here, Grandfather?" the ten-year-old boy asked, his voice control like he was speaking with a commanding general.
"Not long, Sebastian," the old man answered, finally moving out of the firelight and taking a seat across from the boy to where he was on the other side of the board. He examined it, and discovered the boy had moved into a position to where the old man was in check. He countered the move, then said, "It will not be long until you will have someone else to play this game with."
Sebastian made his move, then looked up at the old man at this. "Then, she will be coming soon?"
He chuckled lightly before moving his Queen to where he put the boy's King in checkmate. "All in due time, my boy. All in due time."
**********
Spike hadn't felt the air so charged since…well, he hadn't felt it this charged in a long time. There was definitely something up this night. Something was coming, or was already here. He glanced over at the Bit as they approached to door to the Magic Box. She felt it too; he could tell by the way she was fidgeting with her hands.
Niblet wanted Peaches Junior there, but the boy had gone home from college for the weekend. He still wasn't sure how those two had been able to convince the poof that it was a good idea for his kid to come to UC Sunnydale instead of UCLA, but that was the power of persuasion Dawn possessed. When she wanted something, she was usually able to talk her way into getting it. She would have made one hell of a politician, but her heart was set on becoming a photo journalist. Well, she could use that skill for investigative reporting, he supposed. So, instead of being in on the corruption, she would be exposing it.
"Guess it's time to see what nasty evil we get to stop this week," he said dryly, opening the door.
If he thought the air outside was charged, the air inside the shop was explosive. Every Scooby present, and their emotions were running on overdrive, slapping anyone who ventured inside in the face. He winced from it for a second, then stepped inside.
Harris sat the table with Oz, both men trying to calm a crying Willow. They had all been a bit apprehensive about the ex-witch rejoining the group, her being the one who was most against it. She had blamed herself for what had happened for years, no matter what the others had told her. It had gotten so bad, that she had done some stupid things and had the scars on her wrist to prove it. If it hadn't been for Xander and Oz and Tara, she would have never made it.
Something bad was going on, and Demon Girl wasn't there clinging onto the Whelp? That meant she had gone home to take care of the kiddies. Spike liked Anya, he really did, but there were times he was glad when she wasn't around as often as she used to be when bad things would go down. Now if he could just get rid of Harris, he would be set.
Andy was standing over by the stairs, his arms crossed and looking paler than usual. Spike still wasn't quite sure how the ex-Troika had become a sort of 'Scooby in Training.' They had first 'faced off' with him and his geek brothers, Warren and Jonathan, about a year after Buffy had died. They were a joke really; more of an annoyance than an actual threat, but that Warren fellow had surprised them in the end.
Johnny Boy and Andy had ended up in jail after being picked up for being caught red handed at the scene of a crime, but Warren had managed to get away. They had thought that they were through with them after that, but Warren had come back to the shop and…Poor Glenda. Faith, who had come back to Sunnydale after Buffy left, had been the one to stop the Troika that night. The head geek didn't take kindly to that. Robot Boy had been after Faith, and Spike had tried to protect Tara who was with them. But the bullet went straight through his shoulder. He still had the scar, a little reminded of someone else he had failed to protect.
Warren had gotten away from them that night, but hadn't made it through the night. Sodding idiot thought he could actually make it at Willy's and ended up being some vamp's dinner.
Andrew and Jonathan were released soon after the incident. Lack of evidence is what the cops had said. The two high tailed it out of town after that, only to show up a few months later looking for penitence for what they had done. Well, Jonathan had been look for penitence, and Andrew had just come along for the ride. Johnny Boy had been killed in a car wreak soon after they came back and Andy had been driving. He had felt so guilty he had actually stayed and continued on with Jonathan's mission to be one of the good guys again. After pestering them for awhile, and getting more in the way than actually helping, Anya had proposed that he work for her and participate in the Scooby meetings. She had argued that he did have a vast knowledge of demons and might provide some useful information. Spike secretly thought that Anya just enjoyed having someone to push around and them not being able to say anything back. But, ever since then, Andrew had worked right there in that shop.
Giles was standing off beside the counter, his back to the pair that had just walked in, but he was looking over his shoulder at them. He had been talking to someone, but they were covered from their sight by the Watcher. Like the others, he looked as if he didn't quite know what to think or say.
"Okay, why does everyone look like someone just died?" Dawn asked confusion on her face she looked from friend to friend. When the rest of the group exchanged a look, the girl's face fell into shock and horror. "Oh, God, who died?"
"No one died," a voice answered. "More like, undied."
She step out from behind Giles, and Spike would have sworn the world stopped then and there. There she was, standing there as if the past seven years hadn't happened all. That same nervous smile he had seen her use countless times when she had a secret she was sharing. Her arms locked behind her back, making her look like an innocent school girl who was nervous about meeting her first date. Those hazel eyes that would lock onto you and could burn a hole through you with anger or engulf you with the feelings of love and sympathy. It was her. It was impossible, but it was her.
"Hi, Dawnie," Buffy said before turning her gaze to Spike. "Hello, Spike."
**********
(Okay, I know Dylan doesn't sound much like a kid, but I figured that since she was smart, she might not sound much like a normal seven-year-old. Just to let y'all know is all. Oh, by the way, to all you people in England who wrote about the Dover thing, blame it on me being a stupid American who's never been out of the country. But, hey, thanks for reviewing and to everyone else who reviews too. It makes me happy to hear from all of you.)