Title: Machina

Author: Stonewar

Timeline: in between 'Older and Far Away' and 'Hells Bells' or

(Late Feb early March 2002)

Summery: Afternoon at the Magic Box. New neighbors

Author's note: This is a sequel to a story I haven't written yet that's set Pre season 4 premiere of

Angel.(yeah, wrap you mind around that timeline) I'm thinking of calling it 'Deus Ex' but frankly

its awfully self indulgent and may never make it to page. So?I?m dropping broad hints, whatever you

think it might be, is.

I'm having a good day today. All the afterschoolers showed up so no double shift Buffy!

After a quick stop home to scrub away various clingy greasy smells I walked to the Magic box where

Dawn is serving punitive time. Originally Anya planned to have Dawn work off her debt but decided

she didn't want her sticky fingers touching anything. So her community service was transformed in

to an Anya-supervised-grounding. It seems to be working out quite well because there is

nothing for Dawn to do but sit at the main table and do her homework.

I hum along with the door chime as I walk through the door but my stride falters a bit when I see

awn. She has baby in her lap. About 4 months old and a boy judging by all the blue it?s wearing. I

crack wise as I approach the table to cover being surprised, since Dawn is usually the youngest

person to set foot in the spooky magic store.

"I know I haven?t been that attentive these last few months but you didn?t go and give birth to get

back at me, did you?"

Dawn just rolls her eyes. "I'm auditioning for a babysitting job." She turns the baby to face me

and introduces us. "This is Connor MacNessa. His Mom is in downstairs in the storeroom with Anya."

'Pleased to meet you, Mr. MacNessa." I say as I shake his warm little hand. He grins and blows a

spit bubble at me. Uh-oh here it comes. My Big Ben of a biological clock just started up.

THUMP.....THUMP....THUMP Must...hold...baby.

I tentatively hold out my arms but Dawn looks reluctant to give up her prize. Connor however had no

such qualms and lunged across the table to me. Luckily slayer reflexes prevented any injuries.

Sitting next to Dawn I settle him on my lap as she tries to distract him with bright noisy toys.

"Anya took a customer to the basement? That?s unusual" I observe.

"Maeve is used to be this big high priestess for a coven in England and she's opening a witches

school. So she will be spending lots of money, buying lots of supplies for lots of student witches."

She responded, obviously parroting something Anya said.

She must have seen the look of horror on my face as the thought 'lots of spells going wrong' crossed

my mind.

"Oh! It's not going to be here." She hastily assured me. "It's like a cross between Hogwart's and

that Online University we see commercials for all the time. I think it?s a pretty cool idea since

you find lots of magic stuff on the internet anyway. You may as well learn it the right way."

Realizing what she said she backtracked. "Not that I've gone looking for that sort of thing."

Noise from the basement stairs alerted us of the return of Anya and the little tikes mom. Dawn

leaned in as whispered. "Don?t get her started on the dangers of the self-taught witch, cuz you

know, preachin' to the choir."

Anya is chattering about wholesale discounts when they come into the main shop area. I am a little

stunned. The last person I expected to follow Anya was a Samantha Stevens clone, not that she's

blonde or blue eyed because she's not. She does however look like she's just stepped off the pages

of "j.jill". Perfectly coiffed, make-up just so, a stuffed-to-the-gills ?Mommy purse in one hand and

a palm pilot in the other. I guess I am a little biased. I expected another ?oh goddess' hippie

chick like Tara and Willow.

"Was he a good boy, Dawn??" Maeve asked as she lifted him from my arms. She doesn't have an accent.

I though she said she from England.

"He was a perfect angel." Dawn smiled. I know that smile. She?s sucking up. She really wants this

job. I chuckle a little under my breath at her comment. One of the hazards of knowing someone named

Angel who is less than an angel. It kinda skews the whole definition of the word for you. I noticed

Maeve did the same.

As she straps her son in to his stroller Anya recounts the order to her. "The rush order you want

sent to your hotel, right? I can have that delivered tomorrow afternoon. The rest of the order

should be ready in about two weeks and I have that delivered to the Crawford Street address."

"Perfect. I just need to clear the infestation and I can start remodeling. I can't believe the

bargain I got on that house. It's a work of art. The Gothic slash Art Deco style is very unusual.

I?ve never seen anything like it before."

"You will call the contractor I recommended?" Anya needled.

"Yes, I will give your fiancee's firm every consideration. It was nice to meet you girls."

Dawn waved good-bye as the MacNessas left the store. Anya rush behind her counter to start filling

out order forms. Something from their exchanged bothered me so I asked. "She just bought a house but

she?s staying at a hotel. Does it need that much repair?"

"She's has a 'mosquito' problem at her new house." Anya chuckled at her own joke.

"We don't have mosquitoes around here." Dawn argued.

"Yeah we do. Great big ones," I gestured above my head.

"What's with the code? Couldn't have you just said vampires?" She complained

"She started it," I pointed at Anya.

"Darn! I should have offered your services. It was a perfect opportunity for you to get paid for

slaying. Maybe you should contact the real estate agent an offer to clear out squatters from the

houses that are sitting vacant."

"What was that address on Crawford Street again?" I asked ignoring her suggestion yet again. You

can't be paid for something and still have a secret Identity. Xander has explained to her that is

why Superman had to have a second job at the Daily Planet. Doublemeat Palace sucks. I need a cool

secret identity job.

"936 Crawford St."

"That's Angel's old place. I wonder why he sold it."

"I don't think he ever owned it. He was still Angelus when he started living there." Dawn pointed

out.

"No, I doubt that one would be too concerned with legalities of the real estate market." Anya

observed. "How un-American."

"But he isn't. Buffy, isn't he Irish?"

I'm not having such a good day anymore.