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Birthday Girl "The Songbird"
"I'm home!" Buffy called shakily as she entered the villa and dropped her keys on the table next to the door. She sauntered into the kitchen, where she found Andrew wearing an unusually frilly apron and engrossing himself in a cookbook. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, just whipping up a bit of penne pomodoro a la Andrew for dinner."
"I'm now officially frightened. Where's Dawn?"
"In her room, I think," he replied. He noticed the nervousness that poured off of her as she left the room. Something was definitely up. Perhaps Dana told her about Spike being alive, or maybe she was too incoherent to tell her anything at all.
Buffy reached the top of the stairs and stepped in front of Dawn's door. She tapped lightly with her fingers until summoned to come in. She turned the knob slowly and poked her head into the room.
"Hey," said Buffy.
"How was Dana?" Dawn replied.
"A bit incoherent, but I think I got what I needed, except..." she trailed off. She took out her notes, sat down on the bed and showed them to Dawn. She ran her fingers across the scribbles until she found the poem. "This. She recited this."
"The songbird? What's that supposed to mean?" Dawn asked.
"I don't know, but sunshine city?"
"Los Angeles" Dawn recalled.
Buffy and Dawn walked through the tunnel and entered the bright lights of the Los Angeles Airport the next morning. Their flight was arduous and the food wasn't all that great either. They walked down and grabbed their bags from the turnstiles and rested a moment to gather their thoughts.
"You think we should just head straight for Wolfram and Hart?" Dawn asked.
"Maybe we should find a hotel first," Buffy replied. They gathered their stuff and started for the security check when Dawn spotted a souvenir stand.
"Hold a sec. Andrew said if I don't bring him something he would throw a temper tantrum when we got back."
"And I so don't need that headache," Buffy added.
As Dawn entered, Buffy spotted a familiar figure at the register buying a pack of cigarettes. He was unmistakable. The loud Hawaiian shirt, the fedora, the rat face. She stalked up behind him and poked his shoulder forcefully, causing him to jump and whip around to face her.
"Whistler, should have known."
"Hey! My, you're all grown up! What brings you here?"
"That was gonna be my question. But then again, I think I just figured out my cryptic message."
"I hate those," he said with a grin as he took his change from the clerk. "I figured you'd be here sooner or later. How's Dana?"
"How do you know about Dana?"
"It's my job to know about these things," he replied as Dawn rejoined her sister. He stuffed the cigarette pack into his pocket and motioned them to follow him out the door. "Let me guess, prophetic dreaming?"
Buffy stopped for a moment. She looked at Dawn, who was fidgeting with the bag she acquired at the souvenir stand.
"Dawn, why don't you go on ahead and talk to Wesley. I'll catch up to you a bit later. If you need me, call," Buffy said gently to her. She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and watched the teenager walk off to get a cab. "Okay, I'm listening," she began to the human-faced demon, "why are you here?"
"To give you your birthday present. I know it's a bit late, but... you want to see this."
Birthday Girl "The Songbird"
"I'm home!" Buffy called shakily as she entered the villa and dropped her keys on the table next to the door. She sauntered into the kitchen, where she found Andrew wearing an unusually frilly apron and engrossing himself in a cookbook. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, just whipping up a bit of penne pomodoro a la Andrew for dinner."
"I'm now officially frightened. Where's Dawn?"
"In her room, I think," he replied. He noticed the nervousness that poured off of her as she left the room. Something was definitely up. Perhaps Dana told her about Spike being alive, or maybe she was too incoherent to tell her anything at all.
Buffy reached the top of the stairs and stepped in front of Dawn's door. She tapped lightly with her fingers until summoned to come in. She turned the knob slowly and poked her head into the room.
"Hey," said Buffy.
"How was Dana?" Dawn replied.
"A bit incoherent, but I think I got what I needed, except..." she trailed off. She took out her notes, sat down on the bed and showed them to Dawn. She ran her fingers across the scribbles until she found the poem. "This. She recited this."
"The songbird? What's that supposed to mean?" Dawn asked.
"I don't know, but sunshine city?"
"Los Angeles" Dawn recalled.
Buffy and Dawn walked through the tunnel and entered the bright lights of the Los Angeles Airport the next morning. Their flight was arduous and the food wasn't all that great either. They walked down and grabbed their bags from the turnstiles and rested a moment to gather their thoughts.
"You think we should just head straight for Wolfram and Hart?" Dawn asked.
"Maybe we should find a hotel first," Buffy replied. They gathered their stuff and started for the security check when Dawn spotted a souvenir stand.
"Hold a sec. Andrew said if I don't bring him something he would throw a temper tantrum when we got back."
"And I so don't need that headache," Buffy added.
As Dawn entered, Buffy spotted a familiar figure at the register buying a pack of cigarettes. He was unmistakable. The loud Hawaiian shirt, the fedora, the rat face. She stalked up behind him and poked his shoulder forcefully, causing him to jump and whip around to face her.
"Whistler, should have known."
"Hey! My, you're all grown up! What brings you here?"
"That was gonna be my question. But then again, I think I just figured out my cryptic message."
"I hate those," he said with a grin as he took his change from the clerk. "I figured you'd be here sooner or later. How's Dana?"
"How do you know about Dana?"
"It's my job to know about these things," he replied as Dawn rejoined her sister. He stuffed the cigarette pack into his pocket and motioned them to follow him out the door. "Let me guess, prophetic dreaming?"
Buffy stopped for a moment. She looked at Dawn, who was fidgeting with the bag she acquired at the souvenir stand.
"Dawn, why don't you go on ahead and talk to Wesley. I'll catch up to you a bit later. If you need me, call," Buffy said gently to her. She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and watched the teenager walk off to get a cab. "Okay, I'm listening," she began to the human-faced demon, "why are you here?"
"To give you your birthday present. I know it's a bit late, but... you want to see this."