Baby Steps
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, they are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy ex al. Except for Cady.
Okay, I have a basic plot, and it's based, loosely, on gidgetgirl's 'Legal' challenge on CCS archive. So *nods* to gidgetgirl, thanks for the borrowing.
*
"The femur's connected to the, thigh bone, the thigh bone's connected to the hip bone, the hipbone's connected to-"Dawn paused in her hum-age and absently stopped flicking through the files to tug at her shirt. Just what was the darn hipbone connected to?
"Dawn, have you pulled up that list yet?" Harmony strode into the room, and bestowed a beaming smile on her brand new minion...underling...intern. Dawn rolled her eyes as a response. When Angel had offered the internship at Wolfram and Hart as a way of making quick summer cash for school, she'd jumped at the chance. Where else was Ancient Sumerian a viable plus on her job prospects? Unfortunately, the fine print of the contract had been, 'Harmony. Work under.'
Harmony sighed heavily, tapping one pale pink Barbie-esque heel on the Record Department's cream coloured carpet, and Dawn knew without even looking that she was pulling the 'I'm waiting, so you'd better hurry up, or else, in the nicest possible way' face. Harmony had never really managed the whole minion-control thing. Not, Dawn silently corrected herself, that she, Dawn, was anything resembling a minion. It had been hard enough to get Harmony off her happy of 'Minions? I get minions now?' kick, and persuade the blonde vampire that two years of service at Wolfram and Hart did not equate with a bonus of one summer minion.
"I haven't, yet," Dawn said finally, turning to face the vampire. Truth be told, digging through stacks of paper in an area of Wolfram and Hart built before the concept of air-con had been conceived, in blazing July-time heat was not her idea of the Dawnie-party-time. Harmony frowned, and took the top stack of documents from her, and then broke into a happy smile.
"Cute outfit."
Dawn looked down at herself, reminding herself of the oh-so pretty white and blue sundress that she'd sneaked from Buffy's closet pre-internship packing time. Oh yeah, way with the sneaky Dawn. She grinned back at Harmony. It wasn't often that you found a boss whose mood would lighten based on your almighty fashion sense, she added to her inner monologue. In some ways, Harmony was pretty cool. For one thing, you'd never end up making her coffee and fetching her a doughnut.
"Okay, I need fifty copies of each of these," Harmony said, with another bright smile, handing Dawn a stack of papers that she could barely see over the top of. Photocopying in internships, Dawn finished internally, was universal.
Staggering toward the Xerox machine, she piled the papers on a side table, and leant against the copier, ready to baby-sit the machine for the rest of her afternoon.
*
"You nearly done?" Dawn almost fell off her seat as the cute other-intern, the one who had bright blue eyes, a gorgeous smile and the job under Wes that she'd wanted, grinned at her, indicating a stack of books under his arm ruefully. "My Wyndham-Pryce wants these done by five."
"Yeah," she managed, spinning around to gather the sheets together, and knocking over a pile of them in the process. She winced, and began gathering them together, cute Intern Guy bending to help her.
"Thanks," she began, ready to dazzle him with the hair flip of the century, matched only by her, 'you want to ask me out' smile, when the name on the top of a piece of paper lying in front of her made her stop.
'Summers, Ally and Hank (m)'
Hank Summers? Hank was way up there on the common American names list, as was Summers, but Hank Summers? And Ally – briefly, Dawn remembered being ten again, and squished behind the banisters as Buffy and Mom had a blazing argument.
'Your father is still shacked up with that little slut of a secretary, Ally Miller, so don't expect him to come running.'
Ally Miller, and Hank Summers. Her ears roaring, and feeling slightly dizzy, Dawn picked up the sheet, and scanned it.
"Summers, Ally and Hank(m)
Children – one – Cadence Annabel
DOB – 17/10/98
P - 7
Paid - $500,000'
Cadence Annabel, the seven-year-old daughter of her dad and his secretary? What did they call her, Dawn wondered wildly, her mind fuzzy, Cadence was too long for her dad to manage, and they'd always been 'ies' to him. 'Buffy', 'Dawnie', even 'Joycie' when he had had too much wine at a dinner party. Cady? Annie? Cadence sounded like the name a trashy secretary would choose, Dawn decided, aware of not being rational right this minute. It didn't even sound like a name. Was Cadence a legitimate name? At least she hadn't been called after one of the 'Friends' girls, Dawn reasoned. A little sister named 'Courtney', 'Monica', 'Rachel', or 'Phoebe' would be way more difficult to deal with than seven-year-old little Cadence Annabel who had appeared out of no-where.
It had to be her dad's kid, she realised. Annabel Summers was the name of her grandma on her dad's side. Annabel was too classy a name for a twenty-something secretary not above stealing dads from their kids.
A small thought poked up from deep inside her, a thought Dawn squished instantly, the kind of thought left over from their move to Sunnydale, when Buffy had been little Miss Popular, and Dawn's classmates had laughed at her, for being the L.A girl, and having a sister who got kicked out. The thought was persistent though, sneaky little thought, and wriggled into her mind.
Maybe the reason her dad hadn't gotten in contact with her was because her didn't want her any more? Cadence was his new little girl, and he didn't need his gawky nine-year-old because he had a brand new cute baby, who didn't have braces, and didn't knock stuff over all the time.
She balled the page, and held it in her fist. This was a Buffy-sized moment, and brand-new sisters appearing out of nowhere was her forte, not Dawn's.
*
The muscles of his shoulders glistened under dark chocolate coloured skin. He turned, his face and torso marked with the ritual scars and blood of the ceremony and the ceremonies before.
He raised the vessel above his head, and let one drop of the deep red liquid spill into the fire. Acrid smoke billowed, and he smiled, a horrible expression in the marked face.
'Ai ismar tatha'ii el,' he bellowed the sounds, and they echoed deep into the stillness.
"It's nearly time," he whispered.
*
A/N: Next chapter, what exactly were Hank and Ally being paid for, Buffy and Angel meet for the first time in two years, as does Spike.