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Birthday Girl, "Excuses"
"What?" Giles asked calmly as his slayer stood there, her hand in a fist around the sleeve of a red shirt and her knuckles turning white.
"Spike. He's alive."
"How can you be sure? You said yourself that he burned from the inside," Giles tried to reason with her. He could see the fire of longing coursing through her green eyes and knew this would be a battle she would try to win.
"I had a dream. I woke up in Sunnydale, and I kept going through different rooms, and a red shirt was under my bed, and everyone talked real cryptically. Then, I realized, everyone was saying his last words."
"Yes, but that doesn't necessarily mean that-"
"Then, when I woke up, this was under my bed," she said, cutting him off as she handed it to her Watcher. He took the shirt and examined it.
"Still, you may have worn it out one night..."
"Giles, smell it. It reeks of Scotch and cigarettes," she began. "You KNOW who it belongs to. Plus, I can pretty much tell you that it was not there when I went to bed last night."
The four of them sat silent for a few minutes. Andrew shifted uncomfortably in his chair a few times. He tried his best not to look at Buffy directly. The thoughts of his trip to Los Angeles played over and over in his mind. Buffy let out a sigh and glanced at him.
"Andrew?" Dawn asked as he jumped in is chair.
"What?! Um, I mean, yes, Dawnie?" he replied.
"How's Dana?"
His eyes grew wide. This was the very moment that he didn't want to talk about ANYTHING pertaining to his trip to Wolfram and Hart. He made a promise to keep a secret, and he intended to, but as many of them knew, Andrew was terrible at keeping those secrets.
"Um, she's doing better, her delusions are becoming more and more stable. Her memories and the visions of past slayers are mixing less and less. We've moved her to a facility just outside the city, so that Buffy, Vampyr- Slayer extraordinaire, could possibly visit and work with her a bit, like we discussed."
"Huh?" Buffy asked. She had been deep in thought about her dream and the shirt. "Oh. Actually, I think I'll go see her this afternoon."
"Buffy," Giles began. "Please, don't automatically think that your dream is a prophecy. It may just be... your feelings may have been locked up and this could be a manifestation coming forth."
"Giles, this was too real. If I just push this aside as a normal everyday dream, I'd be making excuses for myself," she replied as Andrew excused himself and went into the den to use the phone.
"Please don't take this too hard, Buffy, but maybe Giles is right," Dawn said gently as she sat down. "Maybe it's your heart telling you that you've held on too long and you need to let go."
"But it still doesn't explain the shirt," Buffy retorted. They sat in a fleeting silence as Andrew entered the room again.
"It's all set. Your appointment is for one-thirty."
"Thanks," she replied quietly, looking down at the shirt. Thoughts passed throughout her mind and she couldn't keep them straight. "Dawn, don't you have school?"
"Saturday," she answered as she popped a piece of prociutto ham into her mouth.
"Right. Saturday," Buffy said softly as she ran her fingers over the stripes in the shirt.
"We'll leave you two alone. Andrew and I have some lessons to go over," Giles said as he rose and motioned for Andrew to leave the room.
"Buffy, are you going to be okay?" Dawn asked her sister gently.
"I don't know."
"Is there anything I can do?"
Buffy thought for a moment. Suddenly it came to her. The amulet. It came from Wolfram and Hart. They gave it to Angel and he brought it to her, and she placed it in the hands of Spike. They had to have information on it, and with luck, they might give her something on it.
"Yeah. After we all leave, call Wesley. Ask him if they have any info on that amulet, and tell him that it's important. I want to know what they know."
"Sure. Not a problem," she replied. Buffy rose from the table and took a sip of her coffee.
"Thanks, Dawn. I'm gonna go take a shower."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dawn checked her watch. 1:30. The others had been gone over an hour. She put down her book and picked up the phone and the phone number that Buffy had left for her. She carefully dialed the number and waited for someone to pick up the line.
"Wolfram and Hart."
"Uh, yeah. Can I speak to Wesley Wyndam-Pryce?"
"Can I ask who's calling?"
"Dawn Sum-"
"Dawnie?!?!" the receptionist cut her off. Dawn pulled the phone away and looked at it confused.
"Who is.."
"It's Harmony! How are you?"
"Uh, Fine," she replied, confused as ever to hear THAT voice on the other end. "Listen, Harmony, I'd really like to chat, but I do need to talk to Wesley."
"Sure, I think he's in his office, Hold a sec."
Dawn took a deep sigh as cheesy elevator music played over the line. Finally someone picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Wesley?"
"No."
"Is Wesley there?"
"He's down in the training center. This is Spike," the other line echoed. Dawn dropped the phone loudly on the floor and her eyes grew as wide as tortillas. She cupped her hand over her mouth and a tear fell from her cheek as she heard him call out into the phone. She bent down gently and picked up the receiver as Giles and Andrew came in the room, causing her to hurriedly hang up.
"Dawn? Are you alright?" Giles asked her. She snapped back to reality and nodded. How could she tell him that Buffy was right, when they had been so skeptical?
"Yeah, I was, just... calling Maria, my friend... from school," she stammered. She looked past him to Andrew, who was munching on bread from the bakery down the street. Giles nodded to her and excused himself upstairs.
"Mr. Giles has to send a watcher to retrieve a trainee. Here's the paper." Dawn took the newspaper from his hands and read the headlines aloud.
"Boy survives van accident, so?"
"He was walking to his car when a van came out of nowhere and slammed him into his garage. He walked without a scratch and the driver of the van died."
"Oh... that IS something," she said, a bit shocked. She looked back down at the phone in her hands and took a staggered breath.
"You really weren't on the phone with a friend were you," Andrew said, breaking the silence.
"I was, honestly. I needed to know about my History assignment," she lied, but could tell that Andrew knew something was up.
"Excuses, excuses," he sighed as he patted her on the shoulder and went upstairs.
Birthday Girl, "Excuses"
"What?" Giles asked calmly as his slayer stood there, her hand in a fist around the sleeve of a red shirt and her knuckles turning white.
"Spike. He's alive."
"How can you be sure? You said yourself that he burned from the inside," Giles tried to reason with her. He could see the fire of longing coursing through her green eyes and knew this would be a battle she would try to win.
"I had a dream. I woke up in Sunnydale, and I kept going through different rooms, and a red shirt was under my bed, and everyone talked real cryptically. Then, I realized, everyone was saying his last words."
"Yes, but that doesn't necessarily mean that-"
"Then, when I woke up, this was under my bed," she said, cutting him off as she handed it to her Watcher. He took the shirt and examined it.
"Still, you may have worn it out one night..."
"Giles, smell it. It reeks of Scotch and cigarettes," she began. "You KNOW who it belongs to. Plus, I can pretty much tell you that it was not there when I went to bed last night."
The four of them sat silent for a few minutes. Andrew shifted uncomfortably in his chair a few times. He tried his best not to look at Buffy directly. The thoughts of his trip to Los Angeles played over and over in his mind. Buffy let out a sigh and glanced at him.
"Andrew?" Dawn asked as he jumped in is chair.
"What?! Um, I mean, yes, Dawnie?" he replied.
"How's Dana?"
His eyes grew wide. This was the very moment that he didn't want to talk about ANYTHING pertaining to his trip to Wolfram and Hart. He made a promise to keep a secret, and he intended to, but as many of them knew, Andrew was terrible at keeping those secrets.
"Um, she's doing better, her delusions are becoming more and more stable. Her memories and the visions of past slayers are mixing less and less. We've moved her to a facility just outside the city, so that Buffy, Vampyr- Slayer extraordinaire, could possibly visit and work with her a bit, like we discussed."
"Huh?" Buffy asked. She had been deep in thought about her dream and the shirt. "Oh. Actually, I think I'll go see her this afternoon."
"Buffy," Giles began. "Please, don't automatically think that your dream is a prophecy. It may just be... your feelings may have been locked up and this could be a manifestation coming forth."
"Giles, this was too real. If I just push this aside as a normal everyday dream, I'd be making excuses for myself," she replied as Andrew excused himself and went into the den to use the phone.
"Please don't take this too hard, Buffy, but maybe Giles is right," Dawn said gently as she sat down. "Maybe it's your heart telling you that you've held on too long and you need to let go."
"But it still doesn't explain the shirt," Buffy retorted. They sat in a fleeting silence as Andrew entered the room again.
"It's all set. Your appointment is for one-thirty."
"Thanks," she replied quietly, looking down at the shirt. Thoughts passed throughout her mind and she couldn't keep them straight. "Dawn, don't you have school?"
"Saturday," she answered as she popped a piece of prociutto ham into her mouth.
"Right. Saturday," Buffy said softly as she ran her fingers over the stripes in the shirt.
"We'll leave you two alone. Andrew and I have some lessons to go over," Giles said as he rose and motioned for Andrew to leave the room.
"Buffy, are you going to be okay?" Dawn asked her sister gently.
"I don't know."
"Is there anything I can do?"
Buffy thought for a moment. Suddenly it came to her. The amulet. It came from Wolfram and Hart. They gave it to Angel and he brought it to her, and she placed it in the hands of Spike. They had to have information on it, and with luck, they might give her something on it.
"Yeah. After we all leave, call Wesley. Ask him if they have any info on that amulet, and tell him that it's important. I want to know what they know."
"Sure. Not a problem," she replied. Buffy rose from the table and took a sip of her coffee.
"Thanks, Dawn. I'm gonna go take a shower."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dawn checked her watch. 1:30. The others had been gone over an hour. She put down her book and picked up the phone and the phone number that Buffy had left for her. She carefully dialed the number and waited for someone to pick up the line.
"Wolfram and Hart."
"Uh, yeah. Can I speak to Wesley Wyndam-Pryce?"
"Can I ask who's calling?"
"Dawn Sum-"
"Dawnie?!?!" the receptionist cut her off. Dawn pulled the phone away and looked at it confused.
"Who is.."
"It's Harmony! How are you?"
"Uh, Fine," she replied, confused as ever to hear THAT voice on the other end. "Listen, Harmony, I'd really like to chat, but I do need to talk to Wesley."
"Sure, I think he's in his office, Hold a sec."
Dawn took a deep sigh as cheesy elevator music played over the line. Finally someone picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Wesley?"
"No."
"Is Wesley there?"
"He's down in the training center. This is Spike," the other line echoed. Dawn dropped the phone loudly on the floor and her eyes grew as wide as tortillas. She cupped her hand over her mouth and a tear fell from her cheek as she heard him call out into the phone. She bent down gently and picked up the receiver as Giles and Andrew came in the room, causing her to hurriedly hang up.
"Dawn? Are you alright?" Giles asked her. She snapped back to reality and nodded. How could she tell him that Buffy was right, when they had been so skeptical?
"Yeah, I was, just... calling Maria, my friend... from school," she stammered. She looked past him to Andrew, who was munching on bread from the bakery down the street. Giles nodded to her and excused himself upstairs.
"Mr. Giles has to send a watcher to retrieve a trainee. Here's the paper." Dawn took the newspaper from his hands and read the headlines aloud.
"Boy survives van accident, so?"
"He was walking to his car when a van came out of nowhere and slammed him into his garage. He walked without a scratch and the driver of the van died."
"Oh... that IS something," she said, a bit shocked. She looked back down at the phone in her hands and took a staggered breath.
"You really weren't on the phone with a friend were you," Andrew said, breaking the silence.
"I was, honestly. I needed to know about my History assignment," she lied, but could tell that Andrew knew something was up.
"Excuses, excuses," he sighed as he patted her on the shoulder and went upstairs.