"Dawn in L.A." – chapter 6

Thanks for continuing to give feedback. My original plan was to have a kiss from Dawn unlock the spell and let the flood of memories back in, but it was too reminiscent of Kennedy kissing Willow to break the Warren glamour and I decided it would actually be more interesting for Connor to be forced to accept his true history at face value – to have to take it on faith and then choose what he should do with the information. The plot kind of flowed in a new direction after I decided that.

"Let me talk to him," Dawn said, holding up a hand to stop Angel from charging out of the office after Connor.

"Haven't you already done enough damage," Angel growled but stayed put behind his desk. His face had slipped back into its human form and his worried brown eyes made him look more like the family dog than the scary jungle cat image that his vampire features evoked.

"He'll listen to me," Dawn told Angel with more confidence than she felt. "Just give me a minute." Before Buffy could add her input, Dawn whisked out of the office.

Connor hadn't gone far. From across the lobby she could see the door to the garden still closing and Dawn quickly followed to find him standing in the sunlight, back ramrod straight, hands clenched at his sides, face pointing up to the sky. As she approached, she could hear him breathing raggedly. She was afraid to have him turn around, didn't want to see him this close to tears.

But when he did finally swivel to face her, his eyes were dry and hard, filled not with tears but with accusing anger. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Dawn spread her hands helplessly and shrugged. "How? It's too bizarre for anyone to believe without seeing and I figured you already had enough to deal with. Vampire parents? Just a little over the top."

She came up beside him and ventured to place a hand on his arm. Dawn was a tall girl and able to look Connor directly in the eye without tilting her head to look up. "Believe me, I KNOW how hard it is for you to accept all this. I know from personal experience." She paused to consider then abruptly decided that knowing her similar story might be a comfort to him right now. "Connor, my ... background is as messed up as yours." Dawn searched for words to tell the story clearly and succinctly. "A few years ago there was this hell god named Glory who was trying to find the way back to her own dimension, unfortunately she couldn't get there without a special key to unlock the interdimensional portal ... And could I sound any more like a Trekkie?"

Connor didn't respond to her joke, just stood there and fixed her with his intense gaze, so she took a breath and pressed on. "But opening that portal would not only allow her to leave this world but would let creatures from the hell dimension into our world. It was really important that Glory not find the key." He nodded slightly so she knew he was taking it in.

"So these monks who were charged with protecting the key from her hid it by, uh, changing its form."

"What was the key like originally?" Connor asked curiously, becoming interested in her tale despite himself.

"Kind of a glowy, green energy thingy ... I guess." Dawn became self- conscious as she approached the point of the story. She could feel herself beginning to blush. "Anyway, they hid it in the form of a human being. Then they created memories for that human being and everyone who came in contact with her. They gave her a whole life history down to the tiniest details...." Dawn trailed off. It was easier to think of herself in the third person while telling this, as if it had happened to some fairytale character but not to her personally.

"You?" Connor asked softly. His eyes flicked back and forth across hers as if reading them.

"Yeah," Dawn said ruefully. "The monks thought the key would be safe if they put it in the Slayer's care, and that's how Buffy became my sister."

Connor made an unintelligible sound that translated into, 'wow' or 'holy crap.' Dawn smiled. "So you see, false memories aren't as unusual as you might think." She nudged his arm again. "And I know at first you think it's impossible to live with the ... the knowledge that your life is basically a lie, but...." she shrugged. "You get used to it."

Connor raised his arm and rubbed at the back of his neck, his face contorted into that familiar frown. For one instant Dawn felt as evil as if she'd murdered a nest of baby rabbits. She had single-handedly shattered his illusions, taken the happy, college-bound teenager she had seen at the mall and turned him right back into a tormented warrior for good. Had it really been her right to do that? But then a renewed sense of belief washed over her and she was again convinced that her actions had been not only justified but perhaps even inevitable.

"So, what are your powers now?" Connor asked, dropping his hand to his side again. The frown cleared from his forehead leaving him grimmer and older looking, but not despondent. "What can a former 'key' do?"

"Research," Dawn responded promptly. "I told you, my sister's the one with super strength and stuff. I got jack. There's a lot more to the whole Glory story but the upshot is that without a door to open I'm just an average girl." She made a face, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head. "As normal and boring as mud."

Connor smiled slightly. "I don't think 'boring' is a word that could ever be linked with you." Dawn felt her blush deepen.

Then he shook his head. "This is a lot to take in all at once." His mouth opened and closed as he searched for words. "I mean, what am I supposed to do with all this information? Let it change my life?" He looked at Dawn fiercely again. "I'm supposed to ... what? Skip college and become a full time monster killer or whatever? And what do I say to my parents, my family? Do I just keep on pretending...?"

"It's not pretending!" Dawn interrupted. "You can't think of it that way. I used to drive myself crazy with that, trying to figure out my place in the world. But it comes down to ... the connections you have with people. Whether the memories are manufactured or not, the feelings you have for your family are as real as ... as anything. They're REAL!" Dawn insisted as if Connor had argued with her. "Buffy is as much my real sister as if I'd been born in this world the normal way. And my mom.... Do you think it didn't rip my heart out when she died just as much as if I were her flesh and blood daughter?"

Dawn could hear her voice rising and feel her emotions spinning out of control but was powerless to stop the flow of words. "So your family is still your family. No one is telling you to stop loving them or to cut them off, but now you know that there's more to who you are and that there are some decisions you'll have to make. Yeah, you could pull a Peter Parker and continue with your college life by day and crime fighting at night or something, but I can tell you from Buffy's experience, it's not easy. Once you realize all the work that needs to be done, how much help people need...." Dawn trailed off, realizing that she was beginning to sound like a religious zealot. She found that she was kind of in Connor's face, so she backed off a few paces and looked aimlessly around the garden in her embarrassment.

"My head aches," Connor announced suddenly. He squinted his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Can we, like, take a time out for a minute."

"Of course," she replied. "Our food should be here by now. You'll feel better after you eat something. Come on. Let's go back inside."

He nodded and followed her into the Hyperion for the second time that day.

During their lunch, they managed to keep the conversation as mundane as possible. Connor asked questions about the fall of Sunnydale as he nibbled his sandwich and snuck glances at Angel, who was sipping suspicious red liquid from a mug.

Dawn and Buffy tag teamed their way through their explanation of The First and its attacks on them through minions and psychological games and finally by opening the Hellmouth itself. Buffy was spare in her description of the battle while Dawn enthused over Willow's part in redistributing power throughout all the potential Slayers. As they got closer to the climax of the story, Buffy became increasingly brief in her answers, obviously reluctant to relive it.

"And then we found out what the amulet was for," Dawn told him excitedly. "It focused the light throughout the entire chamber and burnt up all the Ubervamps at once. Then things started collapsing and Buffy barely got out in time."

"What about the guy?" Connor asked. "The one wearing the amulet, uh, 'Spike' was it?"

Buffy and Dawn fell silent, each waiting for the other to answer.

"He died," Angel said shortly, pushing off from the wall against which he was leaning and going to refill his mug 'o blood.

With Angel temporarily out of the room, Connor felt some of his nervousness lift. He felt free to ask the question that had been bothering him. "So, some vampires have souls and then they aren't evil any more and run around trying to make up for all the bad they did," he confirmed. "What about my ... mother? Did she have a soul too?"

"No," Buffy said. "Only Angel, because he was cursed with one, and Spike, because he fought for one."

"Fought for a soul? Why would an evil being do that?"

Buffy took a sip of her soda and didn't answer, but Connor thought her huge eyes looked infinitely sad.

"For love," Dawn answered quietly. "It seems like a paradox, but evil things can love," she continued. "I'm sure your mother loved you. Angel told us she sacrificed her life so you could be born."

They were all silent a moment and the sound of Angel's cell phone ringing and his voice answering could be heard from the little kitchenette off of the office. Almost simultaneously, the main phone at the front desk began to ring.

"Should we get that?" Dawn asked, exchanging looks with Buffy.

Buffy shrugged, picked up the extension on Angel's desk and pressed a button. "Angel Investigations. Uh, We hope the help ... I mean, we help the hopeless."

This was followed by a series of 'yeah' and uh-huh' and 'how many' and "what did they look like" after which Buffy scribbled down something on the blotter of Angel's desk.

"Okay. We'll be right over. Just barricade the basement door until we get there." She hung up the phone.

"What?" Dawn asked promptly.

Buffy read her notes. "About a foot tall, six legged, yellow fur, lots of teeth and claws. Maybe a half dozen of them. They're locked in a basement right now but the man said it sounds like they're chewing their way through the door. It's wood."

Dawn looked eager. "Did they burrow into the basement?"

"I don't know. The guy didn't say."

""Sounds like an infestation of Yarrow demons." Dawn leaped to her feet. "Let me just check it out in Rosewell's Compendium to make sure that's what we're dealing with. If it is, you don't want to just cleave them in two all willy-nilly it only makes more. Like Mickey's brooms in The Sorcerer's Apprentice."

Without waiting for an answer, Dawn left to go to her room for her reference book.

Angel re-entered the office in a hurry, tucking his phone back in his breast pocket. "There's a ... situation going on that I have to attend to," he explained to Buffy and Connor. "It's kind of delicate. There are some trans-dimensional immigration issues involved and important clients that we have to appease at the same time that we stop them from transporting illegals into this world. Already there've been attacks over on the east side and we have to do something before it escalates into invasion proportions." At the blank looks on both of their faces, Angel waved a hand. "Long and involved story. The gist of it is, I'm needed at the office."

He faced Connor. "I know this is incredibly bad timing. You have all these questions and we should spend time talking ... but I kind of have to go."

"Of course," Connor answered.

"There are clients you have to 'appease'?" Buffy interrupted. "Angel, that is so not good. Listen to what you're saying."

"We're not having this discussion again," he snapped. "Not right now." He headed for the office door.

"Well," she returned, "while you're off 'appeasing clients', we'll take care of your business here. I guess you forgot to disconnect phone service for Angel Investigations because we got a call a minute ago. There's a family in trouble with some Yarrow demons."

"Yarrows?" Angel stopped on the threshold. "You have to be careful with those. If you cut them up they'll...."

"Make more. Yeah. That's what Dawn said."

"Good. Thanks for dealing with that," he responded. "And, Connor, I'm sorry about leaving but if you can stick around a while longer, I'll come back as soon as I can and we can talk about ... everything."

Connor nodded. "No problem. I'll, um, help Buffy and Dawn with the ... with the Yahoos."

Angel hesitated. "It's ... really good to see you again," he said, offering an almost shy smile. He spoke haltingly, "I'm really glad that you've been, uh, happy with your ... family, and I hope you can understand why I did what I did."

"I do." Connor managed to quirk his lips into an answering smile. "I get it. It's just ... a lot to process all at once, you know?" He felt a sudden rush of pity for this hulking stranger, who came across all bad-ass cool but seemed sort of lost and lonely underneath.

Angel nodded once and walked from the office in a swirl of black leather coat. Connor wondered absently if vampires were prone to be chilly, because it was over eighty degrees outside. Then he wondered how Angel was able to move around in daylight and he opened his mouth to ask.

"Special glass on his Viper and on all the windows at Wolfram and Hart." Buffy guessed his question and answered before he could speak.

"Where'd Angel go?" Dawn asked, glancing over her shoulder, as she came back into the room lugging a thick, leather bound book.

"Wolfram and Hart," Buffy answered, the name sounding like a sneer.

"Oh." Dawn thumped the book down on the desk and flipped it open to a page somewhere in the middle. "There's your culprits. They actually look kinda cute, don't they? Like big, fluffy kitties ... but with the extra legs."

Connor stepped up behind her to look over her shoulder at the illustration. "Yarrows," he read, "tunneling demonoids of the Promod genus. Destructive to property but essentially non-threatening to humans. However, will inflict severe bites and scratches if cornered. Propagate by division. May be eradicated by submersion in water."

"We have to cage them and drown them?" Buffy exclaimed. "That's terrible!"

"WE don't have to do anything," Dawn said. "You're the Slayer. You take them out."

"I love my job," Buffy muttered. "So where do you suppose Angel keeps the live traps?"
That afternoon Connor learned that heavy work gloves were a good thing to have when trying to catch Yarrow demons. Unfortunately, he wasn't wearing any gloves and by the time the last of the creatures was caught and shoved into the dog cage they had picked up at a pet store, his arms and hands were shredded and bloodied.

Dawn slammed the cage door shut as Connor pulled his hand out, just missing his fingers. "There! That's the last of 'em."

Buffy was searching the far corner of the room with a flashlight just to make sure.

Connor wiped the blood away from his torn skin so he could examine his wounds. "They aren't like fluffy kitties at all, Dawn," he said dryly. "And I don't have any qualms about drowning the little bastards. Do you think these scratches will get infected? I mean, we don't know what kind of bizarre enzymes or whatever these things have on their claws. My skin might start dissolving or something."

"Don't be such a baby. We'll ask Mr. Dorman for some hydrogen peroxide and douse you and Buffy good before we leave. It's the least the guy can do for us for exterminating his Yarrows."

"They're not exterminated yet," Buffy said, coming over to look at the cage of spitting, screeching demons. "Now we have to take them to the docks and drop them in the harbor."

"Why do I feel like the Mafia?" Dawn asked.

Buffy and Connor used a broom handle as a pole to push through the loops at the top and lift the heavy, demon-laden cage. They struggled awkwardly up the cellar stairs and carried the trapped Yarrows to the back of the van they were borrowing from W&H.

"Thank you, so much!" the elderly man exclaimed. "I had no idea such things existed in the world. I don't know what I would have done without you to help me. I called animal control and the man took one look and left. I was desperate!"

"Well, sir," Dawn said politely. "Yarrows aren't the only monsters in this world and they're certainly not the most dangerous. So you keep your eyes peeled when you're out at night and take care not to go anywhere alone. And if you ever see anything that seems out of the ordinary or just plain 'not normal,' please call Angel Investigations right away." She whipped out one of Angel's old business cards with a flourish.

"Our rates our reasonable," she added, before turning to join Buffy and Connor in the van. "Cordelia was a genius," she announced over the clamor of the Yarrows in the back as she took her seat. "Buffy, you should have been charging a fee for your services all this time. What you do is a real job and you should be compensated for it! I know Anya thought so too."

"It's not a job. It's a mission," Buffy said firmly. "I can't collect money from people who are in trouble. It's just not right."

"The police get paid," Connor pointed out. "And firemen, all kinds of rescue workers and medical personnel. Even Red Cross workers get paid. I think it's reasonable."

"Superman doesn't get paid. Batman, Spiderman ... uh, the Incredible Hulk...." Buffy argued.

"Superman and Spiderman have decent paying day jobs. Batman is independently wealthy and you aren't a comic book hero anyway," Dawn countered. "Besides the Watcher's Council manages to make money – how do you think they do that and why isn't it shared with any of the Slayers?"

"Well, it will be now that Giles and I are reorganizing," Buffy's tone ended the discussion.

The mention of Giles and the upcoming move to England shut Dawn down. With every day that passed she was becoming more certain that she didn't want to leave sunny California for soggy wet England, but how to convince Buffy.

To be continued....