Chapter Three: Good Morning, Sunnydale!
The next morning dawned bright and early at 1630 Revello Drive. By seven a.m. the kitchen was bustling with what Spike had once called, "the pitter-patter of clomping teenage girlie feet." Buffy found she was spending more time playing referee than making tactical decisions. Finally, she resigned herself to having a bowl of cereal as she listened to the excited buzz of the Slayerettes.
"Well, I think he's just adorable. Absolutely the dreamiest thing I've ever seen."
Dreamy? Buffy rolled her eyes.
"I don't know," another one intoned, "he's not really my type. A little skinny for my tastes. But his dad is kind of yummy."
"Who . . . are we talking about?" Buffy asked, as she looked up from her cereal.
"Oh. Connor," Amanda answered. "I think he's kind of cute."
"You would," Kennedy said snidely.
"Wait, wait," Buffy interrupted. "When, exactly have you seen his dad?"
The entire group looked at her like she had six heads.
"What? Do I have something in my teeth? A cornflake or something?"
"You don't know?" Rhona asked.
"Know what?" Dawn came breezing into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl from the closet. "What don't I know?"
"Not you. Buffy." Kennedy turned to address Buffy again. "You didn't know that Connor is Angel's son? How could you not know that? You're the Slayer. Aren't you supposed to know everything?"
Buffy put down her spoon and started to laugh. "Okay girls," she said, getting up from the table, "are we going to have to have a lesson in vampire biology? Vampire's cannot father children. It's impossible."
"Yeah," Dawn said as she poured herself some Raisin Bran. "Please, if it wasn't, Buffy would have been popping out vampire babies a long time ago."
"Dawn!" Buffy scolded, horrified.
"Oh please. It's not like we're not all gonna die tomorrow. What are you going to do? Ground me?"
"That isn't funny."
"It's not supposed to be."
"Look," Kennedy interrupted, "you really didn't know?"
Buffy turned her attention away from Dawn. "It isn't possible. I don't know why . . . whoever . . . told you that Angel was Connor's father. But it's not true."
"Yes it is."
Buffy spun on her heals to see Connor entering the kitchen. She stared at him blankly. "What?"
"It's true. Angel is my father. Darla was my mother."
Buffy suddenly felt weak.
Dawn ran forward and helped her sister down onto one of the stools.
"I . . . I don't believe this," Buffy said, the words barely a whisper.
"Yeah, well, it wasn't too easy for me to take at first either. Who want's to know that both their parents were bloodsucking fiends?"
Buffy looked up at him. "Are you . . .?
"A vampire? No. I've got some of their strength, the supersensitive hearing, all that. But no, I'm not a vampire. Thank God, right?"
"Buffy, are you okay?" Dawn asked.
"Me? Yeah. I'm fine. At least, I think I'm fine." Buffy pushed herself up from the chair. "There's work to be done. I'll be in the dining room if anyone needs me. Dawn, when the others come down, send them into see me, okay?"
"Sure Buff. Whatever you say."
"Oh, and find Willow. I need talk to her. It's urgent."
"Can do." Dawn headed upstairs, and Buffy made her way out of the kitchen.
Good God, Connor was Angel's son?! It didn't make sense. But then again, what the hell ever did?
Buffy entered the dining room and sat down to wait for Willow. She needed a shoulder to cry on. At least Willow would understand.
