Hank

By "Painbow"

Summary: Buffy's dad returns; S6, post DoubleMeat Palace

Disclaimer: I don't own Hank or Buffy or Spike (::sob::) or Dawn. Actually, I don't own any of the characters...yet! Mwahahaha! ::ahem::


Chapter 3

Buffy walked through Restfield cemetery, combining the trip home from work with a quick patrol. Well, the patrol was quick in theory, but in practice it was taking rather longer. Buffy was in no hurry to return home.

She still didn't know what to make of her father being back. Part of her was raging, asking why she hadn't asked him to take a flying leap yet. Part of her was just glad that she now had someone who could help her make ends meet, however this part was wary. She wasn't sure how long Hank would actually stick around. The final part of her was the teenager who missed her father and still desperately wanted his approval and love. Hank came that mean that even when they left they didn't always stay gone?

Buffy sensed a presence behind her and sighed. Sometime it might be nice if some of them would stay gone...

"What, Spike?" She was in no mood for him tonight. She didn't want innuendo and games and crazy mixed signals. She wanted someone to talk to that could help her sort out her problem, and Spike was not that person.

"Well, hello to you too, luv," he shot back, smirking.

"Look, Spike, this is just a really bad time, ok?"

"A bad time?" Spike stalked closer, leering. "A bad time for what?"

She pushed him away. "Look, Spike, don't start. I have a lot of stuff happening right now. I don't need this."

"This? This what? And how can you have more things happening then before? Willow go off the deep end again?" Spike raised an eyebrow.

"No," said Buffy, rolling her eyes. "Look, my father just got into town, and he's staying with us, so...what?" Buffy noticed a change in Spike's posture.

"You're father's back in town?" asked Spike, eyes flashing, fists clenched.

Buffy was starting to get worried. "Yeah..."

"The wanker who left you, Dawn, and your mum all alone, and then never even sent so much as a bloody card when Joyce died?"

"Well...yeah, but Spike he—"

"Right." Spike strode in the direction of the Summers' residence.

Buffy stared after him before realizing his intentions. "Spike! No!" She chased after him.


Buffy ran through the kitchen door to find Spike holding her father up by the collar against the far wall. He was growling obscenities at the man, and Hank was definitely cowering.

"How dare you abandon the Slayer like that! Her and the Nibblet, you pathetic excuse for a maggot! You've got some balls coming back!" He snarled, leaning closer to Hank's face.

Buffy came running up behind Spike, pulling on his shoulder. "Spike! Put him down!"

Spike turned his snarl at Buffy. "What!? You're defending this wanker, after what he did to you and Dawn!? You should be helpin' me toss him out!" Spike turned back to Hank. He pushed the man harder into the wall, flinching a little as the chip reminded him it was still very much active.

"Spike! Put him down!" Buffy dragged his arm away from her father's neck.

Spike dropped Hank and whirled on Buffy. "Why're you defending him? He left, Buffy! You should be tossing him out on his ass." Spike watched her expression for a moment, jaw tightening. "But then, you do seem to have a thing for the one who leave, don't you?" He pushed away from Buffy and strode out the door, duster flapping behind him.

Buffy watched him go, unsure whether to be touched at Spike's concern or angry that he threatened her father. She decided to go with what had worked best for her in the past and glowered at Spike's back as it swaggered away from the house. She rushed over to her father, who was sitting on the floor, mouth open, looking very undignified. She heard a snicker from the doorway and saw a flash of light-brown hair, as footsteps pattered up the stairs. Buffy sighed.

"You ok, Dad?"

Hank looked up at her. "Um...yeah, thanks sweetie. I'll be ok, I think." He looked like he was scrambling for something to say. "Well, he was an...angry young man, wasn't he?"

Buffy sat back on her heels, staring. Sometimes she wondered, she really wondered, if her father lived on the same plain of existence as the rest of the planet.


Hank rubbed his neck as he headed up the stairs to the hastily prepared guest room. The encounter with, Spike, was it, had left him shaken. He'd seen in Spike's eyes what he knew his girls felt, but had secretly hoped they didn't: rage.

His girls were angry with him for leaving and they were angry with him for coming back. The way that Buffy had just rolled her eyes at him and walked away after the encounter had left little doubt in his mind.

He could see their point, he really could, but they needed to get past that. If he was going to help them, they needed to accept his help. It had to be a two-way street. He couldn't be the only one giving. If it was going to be like that, he might as well just leave now.

Hank sat down on the cot in what he figured must have once been Joyce's office. The entire room was full of artwork that she would have chosen. There were a lot of Tribal masks, especially the ones that Hank had always found disconcerting but Joyce had always liked. What would she do in his situation?

He hadn't been even a part-time Dad since Buffy was fifteen, and even then he hadn't been a very good one. He did remember one thing that had made Buffy's face crack into a huge grin...shopping.

Tomorrow he would take his girls to the mall and buy them both new clothes and groceries and whatever else they were lacking. Perhaps if he could just show them that he still cared about both of them they would begin to forgive his leaving. A little voice inside him, that spent a good portion of the time unheeded, piped up. You can't buy them off, Hank. You left your girls and they'll never forgive you for it.

Hank pushed the voice away. Of course they would. All his girls needed was time and pampering and they'd forget all about it.