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::
A/N: Thanks to spikeNdru, the bestest beta a person could ever have. She got my chapter back to me over night! Over. Night.
Also thanks to everyone who's reviewed. I really appreciate it! I love feedback and it's nice to know people are enjoying my story and that it's not just floating about on the internet ether...
Chapter 4
Hank had everything all laid out. He was going to wake the girls in a moment and they were going to head to the mall. Then he was going to take them out for lunch someplace where they didn't serve burgers, and afterwards they'd go shopping. Perfect.
He was about ready to head upstairs when Willow walked into the room. She'd been avoiding him ever since they'd meet in the kitchen. Part of him was relieved, as she had made him very uncomfortable with her cold manner, but part of him also wanted to get to know her better, for Buffy's sake.
He smiled. "Hello, Willow."
Willow grunted something that could be interpreted as "hello" and sat down on the couch with a book, ignoring him. Hank sighed.
"Look, Willow, I...uh...wanted to talk to you."
Willow's back tensed. She sighed and then put the book in her lap. Folding her arms, she glared a little. "What about."
It wasn't really a question. Willow knew perfectly well what Hank wanted to talk about. She also wanted to make life difficult for him. Childish, maybe, but the guy was an ass and she wasn't entirely certain why he was still here.
"About Buffy...I'm...I'm worried about her."
Willow raised her eyebrows. "Really."
"Of course I am!" Hank looked flustered. "She's barely here! She moves around the place like she's dead!"
Willow's eyes narrowed. "Oh, she does, does she? Cause I happen to think she's doing a lot better."
"She was worse?" Willow nodded. "Is it..." Hank lowered his voice, "is it drugs?"
Willow turned red. "Drugs!? You think its drugs! Buffy's not addicted to anything! She's depressed, and if you had been around when Joyce died or Giles left, or she d—this summer, you would know! But you've been off in Spain, living the life of fun with your secretary an—and learning how to make tostadas! All the while Buffy and Dawnie are alone and hurting and having no money!" Willow's mouth opened once more, like she was about to keep going, but the look on Hank's face caught her off guard. She had expected defensiveness. Defensiveness was not what she saw.
Hank sat down hard. "You're right," he sighed.
Willow's eyes narrowed further. "You're not going to get out of this by saying I'm right."
"I know."
"Well...good."
"I just...I just wanted to see my girls again. Pick up where I left off. I didn't expect this." He gestured around the living room like it held all the problems he was facing with Dawn and Buffy.
"So you expected everything to be the same. That Buffy and Dawn wouldn't be angry with you for leaving them."
"I...I don't know what I expected. I hoped they wouldn't hate me."
Willow sighed. "Look, Mr. Summers—"
"Call me Hank."
"Look, Mr. Summers, I don't really like you, but then I'm the best friend. I get to hate you for both Buffy and me. Frankly, I don't know if you'll ever be able to make up for taking off."
"Well, I want to."
"Uh huh. And what happens when another secretary comes along? Will you pick up again and leave?"
Hank was finally frustrated. He was trying to explain himself to Willow, but she just didn't want to listen. "Look! I'm here now and I want to help! Yes, I left! Yes, it was bad! But I want to do the right thing now."
"For how long?" asked Willow, quietly.
Hank turned and walked out of the room, calling up the stairs as he went. "Buffy! Dawnie! Let's go! Daddy-sponsored shopping trip!"
Buffy stood in the doorway to the kitchen, staring at her hands. She had heard most of the argument between her father and Willow and she couldn't help but wonder: how long would Hank stick around for?
The three Summers walked through the mall doors and out of the dreary weather. It had decided to rain about half way to the mall and none of them were dressed for it. Hank shook water out of his coat.
"Well, we're here."
Dawn's eyes lit up, though she didn't let Hank see. It had been a while since she had been to the mall, let alone with her sister, and she intended to make full use of Hank's credit card...as well as her other talents.
Buffy stared straight ahead. She hadn't been shopping in so long, but there was something weird about being in the mall. It was surreal, mostly because of the man standing next to her.
Hank looked at each of his daughters in turn. He notice Dawn's brief look of joy, covered by a mask of teenage indifference. He allowed himself a small smile. He turned to Buffy and the smile faded. Her eyes were blank. Damn! He thought that if anything would make her perk up, it'd be shopping. It was time for drastic measures.
"Buffy, sweetie, they're having a sale on shoes..."
Buffy turned to look at him, smiling a little. "Really? Where?"
Hank pointed at the store that boasted 'Buy one pair of boots, get the second half-off.' "You want to check it out?"
Buffy smiled up at her father. "Sure dad, let's check it out. Will you be ok on your own, Dawnie?"
Dawn rolled here eyes. "I am fifteen you know."
Hank grinned at her. 'Meet you back at the food court, sweetie?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever," said Dawn and watched as Hank and her sister headed towards the shoe store.
Dawn crossed her arms. She was glad they were gone. It meant she could do her own thing without Hank watching in, trying to be cheerful. She glared at her father's back one more time before turning in the direction of the more expensive retail stores...and running into in to a solid black wall.
"Oof!"
"Nibblet."
"Spike? What are you doing here?" Dawn looked up at him, rubbing her shoulder.
Spike glared at the store boasting the sale sign. "Just keeping tabs on my women."
Dawn scoffed. "Your women? Does Buffy know you consider her 'your woman' and that you're totally stalking her again?"
Spike looked sharply at Dawn. "I'm not stalking! I'm keeping' tabs...it's completely different! And it's not just on Buffy."
Dawn quickly looked away. "Whatever...wanna go spend Hank's money with me?"
Spike stared at her for a moment and then shrugged. "Yeah, alright."
Hank walked in through the kitchen door, soaking wet and loaded down with bags. His girls had sure spent a lot of money today, though he didn't think it had the desired effect. He'd run into Dawn much later at the makeup counter, putting black nail polish on that friend of Buffy's whom he'd had the 'disagreement' with.
He'd asked her how the shopping was going and she had just said "fine" with a glare, turning back to her friend, Spike he'd remembered later, and her manicure.
Spike had turned to him, raising his eyebrows in a clear 'go away' gesture.
He'd caught up with Buffy again, at a different shoe store this time, mumbling about the boots she was trying on.
"Sure they're stylish, but are they affordable?"
"Don't worry about that, honey. It's on me."
Buffy had looked up and smiled wanly. "Thanks dad." He was almost sure it had been said without sarcasm.
And when they'd all finally met up in the food court, he'd noticed that Dawn, thankfully without Spike, was carrying a wrapped gift that she was trying to hide from her sister...
Buffy's birthday! He didn't know what she had planned for the night, but he needed to find out if there was an ice show happening and get tickets. If he was going to be in her life again he was going to do it right.
Dawn closed the door to her room and put down her many bags. She'd cleaned up today, no doubt. Of course, Spike's presence, as fun as it was, had made it really difficult to pull off her other plans for the shopping trip. She'd seen him looking at her reproachfully as she attempted to pocket a pair of earrings. She'd looked him right in the eyes and paid for them with Hank's card. They left the store before Spike said anything.
"You've got sticky fingers, Bit."
She'd glared at him for a moment, not sure what to say. "Yeah, and?"
"Could get you into trouble."
"I manage." Awkward silence. She'd looked down. "Spike...you're my friend, right?"
He'd looked surprised. "'Course I am, Nibblet." He gave her a hard look. "What makes you ask?"
"No reason, I just..."
"Don't want me to tell big sis?"
She'd wanted to say that no, that wasn't the reason at all. That she wanted to know that there was at least one person out there who noticed that not everything was okay. But she'd just sighed and told him yes...and got the feeling that he didn't totally buy it.
She'd been sure to get Spike's opinion on the gift she was picking out for Buffy.
"'S a nice jacket, Platelet. But you don't need to go all out. She'd probably like something more personal."
"What's more personal than leather?" She'd blushed at Spike's quirked eyebrow. "Ok, fine, don't answer that, but I have no idea what else to get her! No one will help!"
"'M helpin'. Get her something that's not related to killin' demons."
"Leather's not related."
Spike looked down at his coat. Dawn rolled her eyes.
Dawn smiled as she looked at the wrapped package on her bed. Spike had been helpful. When he'd sneered good-naturedly at her choice she'd known it was the right thing to get.
Dawn reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a wad of bills and a piece of notepaper. Bought tonnes of stuff on Hank's credit card? Check. Emptied his wallet when returning said card? Check. Wrote down credit card number for future online use? Check. Spike was right. Sticky fingers could get her into trouble...so she was graduating.
