Chapter Four: Emotional Girl

Dawn gazes out the window watching Madison, she had changed out of her tight jeans into a pair of loose fitting black sweatpants. The lithe redhead was pushing herself through an intense knife form. Without using her hands Madison performs a flawless walkover, landing in a full split her daggers stabbing outwards into imaginary opponents. Her body moves like a finely oiled machine, everything in total sync. One arm gliding forward the other back, her legs move simultaneously with her arms, one front, one back, knees bending she tucks and rolls forward. Coming to her knees, daggers slashing upwards like a crazed windmill, she surges to her feet. Pivoting on her back foot she twirls around in a tight circle left arm slicing high while her right stabs low. With a barely perceptible glance over her shoulder Madison leaps into the air, twisting as she rises up, her right foot lashes in a precise round house kick. Continuing her mid-air spin her left leg kicks backward a moment before her right foot touches ground.

"Right," Buffy says into the portable telephone, "thanks," she finishes as she hangs up.

"Well?" Xander questions Buffy impatiently almost before she was off the phone.

Dawn turns away from window asking, "what'd the council have to say?" She couldn't help feeling sorry for the young girl in the back yard, but at the same time she felt like she had to stay on constant guard around Madison. As if the young girl was just going to attack her at any moment.

"Her story checks out," Buffy answers leaning against the polished door frame. "Her watcher was found dead just over a week ago. Travers had assumed she was dead as well, she vanished from New York the same day and only now turned up here."

Dawn glances to the side, over her shoulder and out the window as she sadly asks, "do they know how he died?"

Buffy nods her head as she replies with a soft, "yeah."

"I'm taking it natural causes not a big part?" Xander comments sarcastically. There was just something he instinctively didn't like about Madison. Something about the way she walked or talked that simply set his teeth on edge.

Buffy continues to look out the window at the young girl as she continues to work the complex knife form, a form that if not for her slayers powers she didn't think she would be able to duplicate without weeks of intense practice. "Not unless they've taken multiple stab wounds out of the murdered category," she replies sadly.

Now Xander allows his gaze to fall on the young girl in the back yard, "when you say stab you mean..."

"Knife through gut, slit throat," Buffy cuts in as she watches Madison while the young girl throws herself backwards even as her knife slices throat high through the air. "Travers said out of all the potentials she's the strongest one out there. Of course he also said she's willful, disobedient, and has caused more then a spot of trouble while she was with Jacob and he'd be grateful if I'd keep in eye on her until they could send out another watcher."

Dawn's head whips around, "she's staying here?"

Buffy nods, "for a little while."

Michael hits the ground hard, face first into the green grass. Instantly he hops back to his knees slamming his fist into the soft ground. It had been years since he had been unable to complete the complicated form he had used to win regional, national, and even a world championship all by the age of sixteen. Now with one little setback he could flush a twenty-four years worth of training down the drain.

"Do it again," Master Shui's thickly accented voice exhorts Michael as the teenager's balance shifts slightly. Not a lot but more then enough for the strict master to call him on it. "I've seen ten year olds hold a stance better then that. You at ten held it better. Now do it again, only do it right," the old Chinese master snarls viscously at his most talented pupil.

Michael stares balefully at the old man, breathing raggedly as sweat drips down his brow. At times like this Michael truly hates his instructor. "I'm doing the best I can," he hisses running his hand through his sweaty, short cropped dirty blonde hair.

Master Shui snorts, his hard breath disturbing the peace of his dark mustache. "You expect to make it to the regionals with a form of that caliber. You'll be lucky to get past the semi-finals with that crap, Now do it better!"

Michael whirls hurling the thick bladed dagger with enough force to embed the razor sharp blade up to its hilt in the bole of one of the trees, that dot the Summers' backyard, some twenty feet away. It had been years, nearly a decade since he had last seen his old instructor, and still the old mans voice dogged him no matter what he did. Nothing had ever been good enough for the old taskmaster, always demanding that he do everything better then he did even when he was doing his best.

Now that he was older Michael better understood the old man's harping. He wishes that they could have parted on better terms, but Master Shui didn't approve of Michael's plan of avenging his parents death. The old man had told him in no uncertain terms that if he went about with his scheme then he would receive no aid. Bitter words had been said on both of their parts. Words that couldn't, or wouldn't, be taken back since both men believed they were right.

Shaking himself out of his melancholy thoughts Michael walks over to the tree that now holds his dagger and tries to pull the blade free. Only the dagger doesn't budge from it's new home. "Need a hand?" Buffy asks from directly behind Michael.

Having not heard her approach, Buffy's sudden question causes the red hair girl to jump with a startled gasp, "Jesus." Michael spins around on Buffy angrily inquiring, "do you practice giving people heartaches or is something that just comes naturally?"

Buffy smiles able to look the light eye girl in the eyes because she was wearing platform boots while Madison had been training barefoot. "It's a talent," Buffy says moving the young girl out of her way.

Michael smirks as Buffy grabs hold of the hilt, "I really don't..." Buffy pulls the dagger free without so much as a hint of strain. Turning to face Madison she hands her back the dagger, "thanks," Michael replies coolly accepting the hilt.

Buffy takes a step towards the house before turning back around, arms folded over her chest. "I just got off the phone with the council," Michael blinks at the importance of the words he didn't understand. "They're going to be sending you another watcher as soon as one becomes available until then you're welcome to stay here," the slayer says turning back around.

"Tell them not to bother," Michael growls. "I'm more then capable of taking care of myself, and what I don't need is some stick up the ass Brit who knows squat about fighting trying to teach me how to defend myself." He knew he was taking a chance assuming this council of watchers was actually composed of Englishmen but he couldn't help it. Just the word watcher drove his temper to the edge. In a way he blamed Jacob nearly as much as he blamed Madison for the death of his body. If the old man had been even half as good at training her how to fight as he was at getting gutted in his own house then maybe he would still be in his body.

He didn't know why it was getting to him so much today, he was usually better able to hold his anger in check. True when it broke it was like standing in the path of a class five tornado, but actually getting it to break had always been harder to do then it was today. Shrugging off his more turbulent emotions, whatever was bothering him he'd figure it out eventually, he brings his attention back to Buffy.

"That was pretty intense, what you were doing earlier. Not exactly watcher certified though," Buffy comments watching the young girl stiffen at her words.

"I wouldn't have a clue what's watcher certified or not, my cousin taught me everything I know about fighting," he easily lies to Buffy.

Buffy sighs more then slightly annoyed with Madison, "look. You have an obligation to prepare yourself in case you're ever called. The world may one day be resting in your hands," she informs her. "Starting tomorrow I want to see working the drills I set..."

"Fuck you," Michael snorts. "Until you go out and win yourself a world championship you can take your drills and shove them up you ass," he says unable to stop the angry words from flowing out of his mouth.

"What was that?" Buffy questions as the redhead turns away from her wondering what Quentin Travers had meant when he said the girl was willful and headstrong not to mention disobedient. From what she could tell the girl was going to be handful, possibly even more then Faith had been.

"You heard me," Michael answers still walking away from Buffy unconcerned with weather she heard him or not.

Michael sits on the floor, head resting back against the bed, eyes sealed tightly shut trying to stem off the stream of tears that slide down his face. His knees were propped up, heels planted into the floor, and his thin, black electric guitar, with red flames jetting up the bottom half of the body and thin neck, resting in his lap. His fingers made a lazy cadence as they danced across the strings as he tried to halt the flow of tears leaking out from under his closed eyelids. No matter how hard he tried to stop crying the more the tears flowed. He never, ever broke down and bawled his eyes out like some little girl. Aside from the occasional flash of temper, he had never been someone that showed their emotions, at least he hadn't before he got stuck in the body of a fifteen year old girl.

The room belongs to someone that lived in the house, but wasn't staying here right now. Dawn had mentioned something about them being at a retreat in England recovering from a breakdown or something like that. He knew he should have been paying more attention while they had explained things to him. They had been generous enough to allow him to use the room during his stay, however long that was or until the room's occupant, a girl named Willow, returned from England.

A soft knock at the door was followed by the door opening quietly as Dawn sticks her head into what had been Buffy's room. "Hey," Dawn says cautiously seeing Madison sitting on the floor with cheeks wet from the tears streaming down her face. "You alright?" She asks stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.

"Just great, isn't it obvious?" Michael answers with biting sarcasm, then grimaces. "Sorry," he apologizes quickly looking up at Dawn. "I'm not usually this bitchy. Its just everything feels all, argh," he growls not knowing how to describe what he's feeling.

"Oh," Dawn says with sudden understanding as her eyes widen slightly. "That time of the month," she adds nervously.

Michael looks up at her with confusion, "what the hell are you talking about?"

"You've never..." Dawn stops embarrassed at even having broach the subject. How was she suppose to go about asking a girl, that has quite possible never had her period, if she was having her period.

"I've never what, Dawn?" Michael asks suddenly worried about whatever it was that Dawn was having problems trying to ask him.

"You know that time, comes once a month, last about three days, all mothers talk to their daughters about it, doctors ask lots of embarrassing questions on the subject, and you still have no clue what I'm talking about do you?"

Michael shakes his head, "parents died when I was six. Michael took me in until I was nine, from witch point I was raised by Wyatt. Visits to the doctor were never that big a part of my life, unless I was seriously ill," he tells her impatiently. "So whatever it is your trying to say just say it please," he practically pleads.

"Menstruating," Dawn rushes out still finding the topic disturbing. She had been chagrined when, at thirteen, her mother had decided it was time to discuss female issues with her. Just like six months later when she had her period for the first time, it was the most mortifying experience of her life.

"Hugh?" Michael asks eloquently.

Dawn rolls her eyes as she mumbles, "god is it a requirement for slayers to be as dense as a block of granite," loud enough to be heard by the young girl whose long fingers continue to move up and down the fret board. "PMS. Your period," she says meaningfully to Madison and a sound like a dozen cats being skinned alive jumps out of the small amp as a look of pure horror blooms over Madison's face before it hardens like somebody getting ready for battle.

After a moment the music begins flowing out of the amp once again. This time it takes on a deeper tone, a more morbid, almost funereal quality as Madison drags every once of misery out of each note she can before moving onto the next. Dawn listen in as the young girl mumbles, "I can handle this. Knew it was going to happen eventually, but why now, why not later. Much, much, much later," her words were soft, some so soft that Dawn couldn't even hear them, but when she can't she can fill in the missing words with her own imagination.

Deciding to take pity on Madison and offer her what support she can Dawn sits down next to her. Wrapping her arm around Madison's shoulders Dawn says, "its not that bad. All of us go through it, and in a few days you'll be back to yourself. Which for you might not be any different," she jokes lightly trying to cheer Madison up.

Michael looks at Dawn with something close to terror flashing through his eyes as she first puts her arm around his shoulder giving him a gentle hug, he had completely forgotten she was in the room with him. Then he felt a not so gentle stirring deep in his core. Letting his head fall back onto the mattress he groans softly as he mentally berates himself for his body's reaction to Dawn. After all she was a sixteen year old girl where as he was a twenty eight year old man trapped in the body of a fifteen year old girl. All the time he listens to what she's saying which causes him to laugh which threatens to send him into a fresh fit of sobs. "God don't make me laugh, I'll start bawling my eyes out again," he breathes out in a ragged breath.

"Got a smile though," Dawn replies with a soft laugh before becoming serious again. "This is your first time, hugh?"

Michael shudders, "it's that easy to tell?"

"Hey just think. This could just be stress, normal teen angst, or the beginnings of something like bi-polar disorder," Dawn suggest happily.

Michael gapes at her before shaking his head, "your just a font of rosy information aren't you?"

Dawn smirks as she replies, "just trying to keep things in perspective."

Michael grins still enjoying the feel of Dawn's soft body pressed against his. Coming to a decision he becomes serious as he turns slightly so he can look at Dawn, "there's something I need to tell you and I'm hoping you don't freak out because of it," he says honestly.

"This sounds serious," Dawn responds shifting to face Madison.

Michael nods, "it is," he replies nervously. Having to tell somebody he was going to be living with that he was gay was infinitely harder then blurting it out to someone that he was never going to see again. There was also the fact that he still thought of himself as a man, no matter how many times he saw himself naked. Saw his breasts, his vagina, his lack of a penis, he still saw himself as a him.

"Whatever it is Madison, I promise I'm not gonna freak out," Dawn vows smiling warmly.

Michael takes a deep breath, exhales slowly then inhales again, "I'm gay," he says in a rush waiting for the eruption he was sure was about to happen any moment. Only there was no eruption.

Instead Dawn simply, calmly asks, "how long have you known?"

Michael blinks at her response. It was far from the reaction he had been expecting. Without thinking he answers Dawn's question by saying, "I've always been attracted to a pair of tits in a nice tight mini skirt," he then blinks and he can feel himself color at the words that had just slipped out of his mouth. After a moment he adds, "not quite the reaction I had envisioned."

Dawn shrugs, "you expected me to go screaming from the room?"

"Pretty much."

"Sorry I was raised by two lesbians for over a year, plus there was that time Buffy and Faith were hanging out all the time," Dawn comments blandly as she watches Madison's face light up slightly. "Don't go getting your hopes up. Buffy's about as straight as they come."

Michael smirks, a mischievous little grin slipping across his lips as he asks, "what about you?"

Dawn colors slightly, using her long hair to hide her face, she rises to her feet. Aside from one vampire she had never had anybody hit on her so blatantly before. She quickly walks to the door and stops as she opens the it, "I just came up to tell you suppers almost done. Buffy's cooking so you might want to skip it," she says before slipping out of the room.

Buffy hears Madison's soft footfalls as she comes to a stop a few feet behind her after entering the kitchen. "Something you want?" She questions shortly, still angry despite Dawn's explanation.

Michael suppresses a start. He didn't know how she had heard him, he had thought he was being as quiet as he had ever been. Pushing his surprise to the side he flippantly begins answering her question, "for my enemies to suffer an agonizing fate before meeting a gruesome death. And to say I'm sorry, not about what I said, but how I said it to you. You're just trying to help..."

"Listen," Buffy cuts in as she turns around to face Madison. "Dawn told me what's going on. I'm not saying its an excuse, but with everything else you've been going through. It's understandable. So this is what I suggest, take a few days, catch your breath. Then we go out and see what you got."

Michael shrugs, "I just want to find the bastards that gutted Michael," he snarls savagely. Then as an after thought he adds, "and killed Jacob."

"Michael?" Buffy inquires thinking it might have been her boyfriend.

"My cousin," he replies softly the lie burning his throat causing his voice to catch giving the statement more emotion.

Buffy's eyes widen at the answer remembering what she had said earlier, "the one that taught you how to fight?"

Michael nods slightly, "he was with me when they attacked," he says with a quiet hardness.

"They killed him," Buffy states sadly remembering what it felt like having found her mother's body after she died. She had absolutely no idea what it would have felt like to have been present when her mother had passed away, helpless to prevent it from happening. It was rather impressive that it had only taken her a week to get here from New York.

Michael nods his head once as he answers, "none of them survived him long," he says grimly.

The tiny slayer watches a single tear roll down the young girls hard face, "I'm sorry," she states not able to think of anything else to say.

"If you don't mind I'm going to go wash up for dinner," Michael excuses himself again leaving without a reply from Buffy.

Supper was going well so far as Buffy was concerned, Xander like normal was having dinner with Summers sisters. It was a rather subdued group sitting around the dinner table enjoying the meal consisting of meatloaf, mash potatoes, and string beans. Madison had been quiet, hardly touching the food on her plate, just moving it from one spot to another. Dawn for some reason kept glancing at Madison from across the table without saying anything and without trying to look to obvious. Buffy tried filling the silence up with meaningless chit chat, only the moments of silence drag on a little bit longer after each of her comments.

"That's a nice car out there," Xander remarks suddenly trying to draw Madison into a conversation.

"The 'vette?" Michael questions barely aware of the conversation.

"Yeah the black one out front," Xander continues not even waiting for Madison to nod her head before going on. "Seems a little expensive for someone your age to own?" He questions suggestively.

Hearing the innuendo in Xander's voice Michael replies naturally with a light shrug, "you'd be surprised what you can get for a good screw these days." Xander blubbers for a moment his face going red, Buffy chokes slightly on mouthful of meatloaf, while Dawn covers her mouth with her hand as she covers up her laugh with a fake cough. "I'm sorry," Michael apologizes, "that was kind of rude of me. Just blurting that out, no manners what so ever."

"That's okay," Xander gasps after taking a deep gulp of water.

"Truth is I rolled some guy for twenty bucks and his car keys," he sates with dead seriousness as Xander is taking another drink of water. He smiles victoriously as Xander swallows to quickly and coughs slightly. "Sorry," he apologizes again. "I don't know whats coming over me. I better go before I say something truly embarrassing," he says getting from the table leaving a choking Xander, a slightly shocked Buffy, and a smiling Dawn in his wake.

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Emotional Girl - Terri Clark

I've been looking at you looking me
Bet you're thinking that what you get
Is what you see
But underneath this cool exterior
A raging river flows
So before you get any nearer
I better let you know


I'm an emotional girl
I can't help myself
Sometimes I laugh
Sometimes I cry
Sometimes I do both and I don't know why
I got a Passionate heart
And that's just the way things are
You and me could give it a whirl
But I'm warning you, boy
I'm an emotional girl

I like music that's loud and lights down low
I like driving my car too fast
And dancing slow
Some folks may say I? too extreme
?ause I can? stop once I start
But I never could do anything
With half my heart

I'm an emotional girl
I can't help myself
Sometimes I laugh
Sometimes I cry
Sometimes I do both and I don't know why
I got a Passionate heart
And that's just the way things are
You and me could give it a whirl
But I'm warning you, boy
I'm an emotional girl



I'm an emotional girl
I can't help myself
Sometimes I laugh
Sometimes I cry
Sometimes I do both and I don't know why
I got a Passionate heart
And that's just the way things are
You and me could give it a whirl
But I'm warning you, boy
I'm an emotional girl

You and me could give it a whirl
But I'm warning you, boy
I'm an emotional girl