Chapter 2: Teaching Assistant

Dawn paused outside the door of Clay's office. She had called Buffy that evening and told her about the lousy hours at the newspaper. The failed job interview at the bookstore and Clay's offer of hiring her as his teaching assistant. She then asked for her sister's opinion trying to figure out whether or not to take the job. Buffy had listened and told Dawn her opinions on the matter. So Dawn had decided to give it a shot. If it didn't work she could always find another job. It was after all only till the end of the semester when she would be joining Buffy in Toronto.

Dawn knocked and he yanked open the door to see her standing there.

"Dawn, come in," he said. "We have a lot to do."

Dawn stepped inside, shucked off her backpack, and looked around for a place to put it.

"Just toss it wherever," he said.

Dawn nodded and tucked it into the corner, under the empty coatrack. "Is this okay?" she said, tugging at her short-sleeved blouse to straighten it. Dawn didn't really care what the dress code was as long as she didn't have to wear a corset. Even after two hundred years she still hated the torturous clothing. But she wanted to make a good impression so she wanted to make sure he didn't have one. "I wasn't sure if there was, you know, a dress code or something—"

"There isn't. Wear what you like."

"Do you, uh, want me to start filing?" Dawn asked as she turned toward the desk. "Filing? Should I start—"

"No. Not today. Today we have to talk."

Dawn's blue eyes clouded. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no. We just need to talk about your paper. We didn't get time to discuss that yesterday, so I wanted to spend a few minutes on it today."

"Sure." Dawn moved the spare chair over to the desk, sat down, then looked up at him with a faint smile. "So, how badly did I mangle your theory?"

She had only been scheduled to work for two hours that day, and they spent the whole time talking, first about her paper, then shifting into the more general area of his work, his interests, theories, past and current projects.

When her shift ended, she thanked him, not for the stimulating conversation, but for the "background."

When Dawn returned the next day, he let her file. She put his papers into neatly labeled folders. When she saw that his handwriting was somewhat indecipherable. He stuck close by and explained each page to her so she could file it properly.

After that, they had thirty minutes of Dawn's shift left, so he spent it making a semipermanent schedule for her. He took into consideration her course load, extracurricular activities, and study habits, and time for personal endeavors such as calling Buffy. He gave her a flexible schedule with short shifts, sometimes two per day to reach her goal of fifteen hours a week.

"Wow, that's great," Dawn said, reading it over. "This will work out perfectly." She smiled up at him. "Thanks."

The next day he told Dawn about some job changes. Namely the fact she couldn't grade the class she was in. When he finished, she busied herself hanging up her backpack.

"Okay," Dawn said. "That makes sense. I guess I should have known that—"

"I should have known," Clay said.

Dawn smiled. "Not your fault. You're as new at this as I am. So, uh, I guess we'll need to rework that schedule. How many fewer hours—?"

"That won't change. I'll just give you more research work."

"Really?" Dawn asked. "I mean, you don't need to—"

"More time for research means more research I can do. Publish or perish, that's the law of academics. We'll stick to the original schedule, and if you need more hours, just ask."

"Thank you," Dawn said, started to turn away, then stopped. "Oh, and what about your student drop-ins? That's more reception work than teaching assistance, right?"

"It is."

"We're all set then. So—" Dawn said as someone rapped at the door.

He inhaled and scowled.

Dawn pointed at herself, then the door. As if asking if he wanted her to answer it? He nodded. Then she arched her brows and pointed to a spot behind the door, mouthing "Wanna hide?" with lips twitching in a teasing grin. He ducked behind the door and a small laugh escaped Dawn's lips. She then answered the door.

Over the next week, their working relationship hit a comfortable stride. He kept asking her about her personal life. And she kept dodging the questions. He generally backed off though much to her satisfaction.

That evening, Dawn was working on an essay, normally she would have done it back at the apartment but she needed access to some research materials. Dawn leaned back, pen in hand, staring at the paper. Then she shoved the pages into her backpack, threw it over her shoulder, and strode out of the study area.

Dawn always walked back to the apartment with her magical senses wide open. Always searching for possible threats, mainly demons—she and Buffy had made a few enemies in the two hundred years since they had drank from the Fountain of Youth, and some of them lived long enough to hold grudges. That night her magical senses were telling her she was being followed. She stopped to pretend to tie a shoe while she detected the stalkers aura and realized it was Clay who was following her. She debated turning around to face him but continued on instead returning to her apartment.

Ten minutes later she exited her apartment. She was going out to patrol. She carried her slaying clothes in her bag. With Buffy in Toronto and till she joined her sister there she was going to take up Buffy's patrols in New York. She cut through the campus, and then headed west. She passed through the bar and restaurant district without slowing. At least two miles passed before she turned off and onto a hiking path. She ducked behind a building and a moment later stepped out again, the jeans and long-sleeved jersey gone, replaced by shorts and a T-shirt. She looked around the dark, empty park, and then headed for the hiking path. Time to attract a vampire.

Near the head of the trail, Dawn stopped. She scanned her surroundings and tilted her head to listen. She took out a stake from her backpack, and tucked the bag beneath some undergrowth. When she straightened, she gave another long, careful look around. She cupped the stake in her palm, walked to the head of the trail, and began her warm-up exercises.

When she finally stopped her stretches, she looked around one last time, then faced the trail, took a deep breath, and vaulted forward, off and running.

Something tripped her magical senses and she stopped. She could sense something was out there. She held her stake out. Her gaze traveled over both sides of the path, searching the shadows. She cocked her head, listening. Was her magical senses playing at her. She could feel it was there. Not entirely human which meant any manner or supernatural creature. Unless one attacked her she would leave it alone.

Dawn looked around, a casual sweep of the forest. She checked her watch. Her nose scrunched up, head tilted, as if considering something. Then she strode off the path. A few feet from the tree line, she lowered herself onto the ground beside a boulder. "Stupid vampires," Dawn thought to herself. She would give them a few minutes to try and come after the tasty morsel waiting unprotected before she would give up.

The next day Dawn went to work. Everything was as pleasant as could be. But then he tried turning the conversation away from the paper she was researching, she steered it right back on track. Then Clay slapped the stack of quizzes down onto the desk. "Do you run?" he said.

"Do I what?" Dawn asked after several long seconds of silence. She had been right he had followed her home and then apparently to the park when she went on patrol. It was probably him that she had sensed in the park. She opened her magical senses and tried to sense him, he was human.

"Run. You know, jog, run, whatever," Clay said as Dawn stared at him. "Running is good. A good hobby—sport. A good sport. Good for you."

Dawn's lips twitched. "Uh-huh."

"Well, it is, right? Gets you outside, in the fresh air, exercising. All good."

The phone rang. As he lifted the receiver, she shook her head and smiled. She would play his game; see how far it got her. Find out why he had followed her.

"Hello?" a woman's voice said on the other end of the line.

He started to hang up, but she spoke again, louder. Dawn motioned at the phone, wondering if there was anyone there. He lifted the phone to his ear. "What?"

Dawn sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Is Dawn Michaels there?" the woman asked.

"No."

"This is her sister. It's an emergency."

He passed the phone to Dawn. "Hello?" Dawn asked. "Buffy what is it?"

Dawn listened to the pause. "It's nothing Dawn, sorry I …"

"Buffy," Dawn said. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Buffy said. "It's nothing.

And Buffy hung up before Dawn could say another word.

"I am so sorry," Dawn said as she turned to Professor Danvers. "My sister must be missing me more than I thought."

"You two are close?"

"We didn't use to be," Dawn said. "But nowadays, yes. We only have each other."

"Of course," he said. "Family means a lot to you."

"Yes," Dawn said. "I'm probably going to head to Toronto after my last class on Friday if you can spare me. To make sure everything is okay."

"Of course," he said. "That's not a problem. So. Running."

Dawn frowned as she remembered he had followed her the night before. Then she plastered a smiled on her lips. "Ah, right. Running. It's good."

Professor Danvers hoisted himself onto the desktop. "It is, and the reason I was asking is that I run, but I can't seem to find a decent track around here. So I thought, even if you don't run, you might be able to recommend a spot for me."

Dawn took her seat. "Well, I do. Run, that is. There are a few good places around here. It depends on whether you like the street or the beach or—"

"Where do you run?"

"Uh, well, that depends. Usually in a park—" Dawn said.

"Good. I'll go with you, then."

Dawn stared at him. "Not good. Not good. If he follows me on one of my patrols he might get bitten," she thought.

"I'm not sure that's such a …" Dawn said.

"You like to run alone?" Professor Danvers said. "That's fine. Me, I like company. Back at home, no problem, but here …?" He shrugged. "Not a lot of running buddies to pick from."

Dawn smiled. "I'm sure I could find one for you. I'll make an announcement at the next class and—"

"I want someone to run with, not from."

Dawn laughed.

"Now, this park you mentioned. Maybe you can show it to me sometime, or draw me a map."

Dawn hesitated and then she sighed. He was going to probably go running anyways. If she was with him maybe she could protect him. "I don't mind company, I guess. Sure, I'll take you there, show you the trails. I usually run at night, but—"

"Night's fine."

"The park's actually closed after dark. That's one reason I go there. It's very quiet, and I usually have the whole place to myself. Technically, of course, I am trespassing," Dawn said.

"So if we hear sirens, we run faster."

Dawn smiled. "Exactly."

"I'll go with you next time, then. So when's that? Tonight?"

"Next week," Dawn said. ""Would be better."

They spent the rest of Dawn's shift talking. The next day, Dawn headed to Toronto.

Buffy was alright just had been missing Dawn was all. So they spent the weekend together before Dawn returned to New York on Sunday.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

As Dawn walked through the doors of Rufus D. Smith Hall, she quickened her pace and surveyed the rapidly filling corridor.

"Dawn!"

A dark-haired young woman pushed past a group loitering outside an open classroom door.

"Hey, Jody," Dawn said, stopping.

"Hey, yourself. You didn't call when you got in last night. I was hoping we could grab coffee. So how was your weekend?"

"Good. And yours?"

"I survived." She stepped closer, moving out of the lane of foot traffic. "So, what'd you do? Visit your sister?"

Dawn smiled. "Yeah, she called Thursday and I took off to see if everything was alright. She was fine."

They chatted for another couple of minutes. After talking to Jody, Dawn was running late for class. By the time she swung through the door, the room was nearly full. Clay was at the front, sorting papers. She paused, expecting him to look up. He kept working. Dawn swung past the desk. He lifted his head, but he didn't meet her gaze, let alone sneak her a smile.

As Dawn took her seat, he began the lecture. He began passing out papers, handing them down the rows. He gave her one, and then passed the rest to the person beside her, his gaze never dropping within a foot of her head.

Ever since Jack had died over two hundred years ago. Dawn had adopted the police of get some and gone. She didn't want to form attachments when she would have to watch them die. But with Clay she was beginning to feel what she had for Jack. And she found it disappointing that he wasn't looking at her.

Dawn took her sheet. Instructions for an assignment … with a handwritten line, dark against the faded copy.

How was your weekend? Your sister okay?

Dawn looked up just as he was heading back down the middle row. As he passed her, he glanced over, brows lifting. Dawn grinned, and his smile broke through before he turned away.

A second page followed the first, this one a list of possible topics. Again, hers came with an extra note.

Run tonight?

Dawn laughed, startling her neighbor, then stuffed the pages into her binder. As Clayton stepped up to the lectern, his gaze shot her way, brows arched, expecting an answer. Dawn bit back a smile and pretended not to notice…just as she pretended not to notice the glower that followed when he realized she wasn't going to respond.

When class ended, Dawn took a few minutes to tidy her notes, waiting for the room to empty. By now students rarely lingered to ask more than a quick question, having learned that anything else only earned them a scowl.

As the last students filed out, Dawn slipped from her seat. Clayton had his back to her, gathering his papers from the table.

"So?" he said, without turning.

"Passing notes in class? Isn't that a no-no?" Dawn asked.

"Only for students."

"Still, you'd better be careful," Dawn said. "Hand that to the wrong person and you'll get yourself in trouble."

"Which is why I passed it directly to you." He leaned against the lectern. "So? Can you run tonight?"

"Hmm, no. Sorry. But I could pencil you in for three weeks from Thursday," Dawn said.

"Watch it or you'll find yourself joining the ranks of the unemployed."

"There are laws against that," Dawn said.

"So?"

Dawn swung her knapsack onto her shoulder. "Tonight is fine. I'm meeting friends for dinner, but I should be done by seven-thirty. How about I meet you in front of the ROM at eight?"

He agreed, and Dawn left.

It was a cold night for October, single-digit temperatures with a wicked north wind blowing in, reminding the unwary that it wasn't too soon for a blast of early snow. When Dawn arrived at the museum, she was ready to head back to her apartment and dig up her winter coat, but once they started the long walk, talking as they went, she forgot the cold.

"Change facilities are a problem," Dawn said as they entered the park. "The washrooms are locked, so I usually slip into the woods. Hardly decorous but—"

"Whatever works, I never see what the big deal is anyway. Someone sees a flash of bare skin, what are they going to do, run away screaming?"

Dawn laughed. "I'd hope not. But if the flashing involves certain sections of skin, they'll run screaming to the nearest cop. On a night like tonight, though, I'd be more worried about frostbite than unintentional flashing."

"You want me to break into a bathroom for you?"

Dawn glanced over, wondering whether he was joking. She shook her head. "Thanks but no. I run year-round, so I've learned the art of speed-changing. If we head around that pavilion, we should be out of the wind."

So they did, each finding a place in the woods to change into their running clothes. Dawn glanced around as she changed. She pulled the stake from her bag and hid it a carefully concealed holster in the waistband of her sweats. She hadn't used the holster since her first patrol after Buffy left for Toronto. They had designed the holster so that they could hide their stakes when in a crowd. Since there was no crowd in the park, Dawn eventually stopped using it. But tonight she had brought it so she could hide the stake from Clay. She just hoped no vampires attacked that night.

When Dawn stepped out of the woods, he was already there, and she quickly realized one disadvantage to being with a guy as good-looking as Clay. The gape factor. In the last few weeks, she'd become less aware of his looks. As he stepped out in a tank top and shorts, she became keenly aware that, as nice as the picture had been with his baggy clothes, she'd been missing half of it. She tried not to look. Failing that, she tried not to stare.

As much as Dawn liked the solitude of running alone, especially when she was out patrolling, there's something to be said for having company of the right sort. Preferably someone who can keep up a light chatter and keep up the pace. Clay managed both easily, and they were back where they started before she knew it.

They had been discussing movies what they did and didn't like. He had mentioned seeing some romance comedy, saying he hadn't liked it.

"A chick flick," Dawn said.

"Huh?" Clayton said.

Dawn inwardly groaned. She forgot the term chick flick wouldn't be commonly used for several more years. "A film aimed at the female portion of the moviegoing public."

"Oh." He peered over at her. "You like those kind of movies?"

"No, I'm saying that's who they're made for. Not that every woman likes them, no more than every guy likes movies where stuff blows up," Dawn said. Once upon a time she had like to watch chick flicks. But after a hundred years of watching movies she got tired of them.

"What kind do you like?"

Dawn grinned. "The ones where stuff blows up."

"We should go to a movie, then."

Dawn glanced over at him, but already knew what she'd see. No hint that this was anything other than a friendly suggestion. "Sure," she said. "We should do that someday."

"How about Friday?"

Dawn laughed. "I said someday." A pause, then she glanced over at him. "Maybe Saturday."

"Saturday, then. Any idea what's play—"

He stopped. As Dawn took another step, his fingertips brushed her arm, and she looked back to see him still standing there. He motioned for her to stop and scanned the grassy hill leading to the pavilion. "Someone's here," he murmured.

"Oh?" Dawn opened her magical senses searching for what he saw. She found what he had over by the parking lot. For good measure she squinted into the darkness, pretending not to have found the guy. "Where?"

"Over by the parking lot. You go get changed. I'll wait."

When Dawn came out, he was standing by the pavilion, watching the distant parking lot.

"Still there?" Dawn asked trying to play the innocent card. Her magical senses had told her the guy had left and came back several times.

"There again. He left a couple times, but keeps coming back. Like he's waiting for someone," Clay said.

"Probably is. Get dressed, then. I'll stay here," Dawn said.

Dawn ducked behind the pavilion wall, keeping out of sight of the mysterious man. No need to advertise her presence. She didn't need to see him as long as she kept her magical senses open.

A moment later, the man appeared, walking along the path beside the pavilion. He didn't see her, and Dawn only caught a glimpse of his back as he passed. He reached the end of the path, and then headed back. "Dawn!" he called, grinning as he broke into a jog.

Dawn frowned. Someone who knew her by name. Only people from the University and a few of the undead who heard Buffy calling her name on patrols knew her name. She snaked her hand for her stake. Then her magical senses told her who it was. She had a problem with a stalker of an ex-boyfriend who hadn't agreed with her get some and gone philosophy.

"There you are. You're a hard girl to find."