Chapter
6.02
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002
"So, you'll lock up when I've gone? And you're
going to be okay here on your own?" Wes questioned the teenager
as he stood on the porch, having brought her home.
"I'll be fine. It's not the first time I've been
in the house on my own, you know, and there's only two vamps who
have an invite, and I don't think one of them would be in a hurry
to show his face 'round me."
"Yes, well, all the same, keep your phone to
hand and if there's any trouble just call and someone will be
here in less than ten minutes. Okay?"
"Yes, Daddy. You're nearly as bad as Spike when
Buffy was gone."
"I guess I'll have to try harder, then."
"No, thanks. One over-protective "big brother"
is quite enough. Actually, one over-protective big sister is enough
on her own."
"You're the one that talked about me joining
the "family"."
"Shoo. Go. I've got calls to make and you've
got people to meet."
"Hey, so are we on for tonight?" Brandon asked.
"I don't see why not," Dawn replied, somehow
managing not to sound totally disingenuous. "They said it was
okay for me to go on your bike once I had all the gear, and I
have all the gear. And you'll give me a ride there and back, won't
you? So, as long as I'm back for curfew, no problemo."
"Sure, I'll give you a lift there and back. What
kind of jerk would I be if I didn't?"
"The kind of jerk I wouldn't want to go with
in the first place. Or maybe the kind of jerk I'd have an argument
with half way through the night."
"Believe me. We're not going to argue, bicker
maybe but I make it a point never to upset a pretty girl if I
can help it, and even if we did, it would still be my place to
see you got home safely."
"Cool. Give me three quarters of an hour to change
and get freshened up. Okay?"
Brandon checked his watch. "I'll be on that front
porch just after half past seven."
"See you then," Dawn confirmed, waiting for him
to say goodbye before replacing the handset. She dashed up the
stairs as soon as the phone was back in its cradle. At least,
if she had been accustomed to the extra weight of her new thick-soled
boots it would have been a dash, as it was, it seemed more like
a fast jog. These were going to take some getting used to, but
on the plus side, no teetering.
Her first stop was her wardrobe. Hidden away
at the back, for just such an occasion as this, was an old dress
of Buffy's. Her sister most likely thought it had been thrown
away along with all the other clothes that had been with it in
a garbage bag in the basement. Little did she know that Dawn had
hidden it away well before the basement was ever flooded.
She debated for a few seconds before slipping
off the new leather trousers and adding a pair of black lacy tights.
Surveying her reflection in the mirror, she pulled on the heavy
boots that reached most of the way up her calves once more. She
needed make-up, but the black pvc mini-dress, the fishnet-style
tights and the boots were definitely a look. Five minutes later,
her new leather pants and boots were back on over the top of the
dress, which was short enough that this didn't present a problem.
That left the rest of the time to work on her make up and her
hair and pick some jewellery.
Dawn made a dash for the bathroom when she heard
the sound of an approaching motorbike, checking her hair and make-up
in the mirror one last time before she descended the stairs with
a seemingly casual nonchalance.
Brandon was just removing his helmet as she stepped
into the halo of the front porch light. As he raised his head
back up he let out a low wolf whistle.
"Do I get a twirl?" he asked.
"If you want," Dawn responded before obliging.
Meanwhile, Brandon set his helmet down on top of the bike's seat
and moved to close the distance between them.
Taking first one hand and then the other, he
gently pushed back the cuffs of her jacket.
"What're you doing?" Dawn asked with a puzzled
expression.
"Just checking for the Witchblade, seeing as
how I seem to be dating a young Sarah Pezzini," he answered with
a teasing glint in his cat-green eyes.
"Very funny." Then, her puzzled expression returned.
"Or is that meant to be a compliment?"
"Believe me. It's a compliment." He closed the
last foot between them and pressed his lips to hers, deepening
the kiss when she opened her mouth to him. His hands reached up
to frame her face and long seconds passed before either pulled
away for breath. "The look suits you," he told her as he brushed
the back of his knuckles against her cheek in a parting caress.
"I think we'd best get out of here before your chaperones come
to check what we're up to."
"It would help if we want a table," Dawn responded
with her own teasing smile.
"I'm guessing the idea of dancing the night away
in new boots doesn't appeal?"
"You guess right. Why? Were you planning to cop
a feel on the dance-floor?"
"Well, I am a guy. but, actually I was thinking
it'd be kinda cool to get more of a chance to sit and talk, and
maybe unravel a bit more of the enigma that is Dawn Summers."
He gave her another soft lopsided smile before making his way
back to the bike.
As his back retreated down the path, a little
voice in Dawn's head was reminding her that oxygen was a prerequisite
to her survival. 'Breathe, girl, breathe," it said.
There was more than an hour before the band was
due to come on when they arrived at the Bronze and the place was
only just starting to fill up.
"Why don't I take our jackets and helmets to
the cloakroom? You see if you can find a table and I'll swing
by the bar before I come find you?"
"Okay."
"What's your poison?"
"Well, I would say vodka tonic to sound all sophisticated,
but what with these pesky stamps on our hands, you better make
it a diet coke."
He pressed an almost chaste kiss on her lips,
before pulling back to smile at her surprised expression. "One
coke coming up. and you don't need to be sophisticated to impress
me. You're doing fine just being you."
As she waited at the table, Dawn's ill will towards
Spike was steadily growing. It was her first proper, unsupervised
date. She was with a gorgeous, charming guy who gave every appearance
of being as attracted to her as she was to him. She should be
having the time of her life. Instead, this little English voice
in her head kept saying, "if a guy seems too good to be true,
then he probably is." It wasn't fair. Even when he wasn't there,
the British pest wouldn't just let her enjoy herself.
Then again, there was the other little voice
that said if Spike and Buffy got back to the house before she
did and found her note on the refrigerator, then there was always
the possibility they would turn straight back around and haul
her home. Of course, those instructions about being in bed if
it was after half past eleven didn't make it sound like they intended
to rush back, so she was probably safe... unless they were just
covering themselves. And Tara and Willow would probably find it
first, anyway. The library would probably be closing soon, so
it was almost guaranteed.
It wasn't like it was a big deal. Buffy never
asked for Mom's permission and she used to walk here and back
on her own and that was before anyone knew about the whole slayer
thing. Of course, it was before her mom knew that vampires were
real as well, but minor point. It wasn't her fault that Buffy
wasn't there to ask permission, and she had left a note.
Her train of thought was broken when a drink
appeared in front of her. "One diet coke," Brandon announced as
he set it down. The small white pellet that had been added to
the cup had already dissolved by the time the brunette had reached
the table.
"Sorry I'm so late. It took a bit longer to get
Dawn outfitted than I had anticipated." Wesley apologised in a
whisper as he greeted the two witches. "Is there a readers' lounge
or somewhere that I can get us all a coffee while you tell us
your news?"
"There's a coffee shop just around the corner,"
Tara offered. "And this place will be closing up soon anyway."
She started to clear up the books she'd been using for her research,
while Willow picked up a stack of printouts from a printer near
the computer she had been working on. The Englishman was quick
to step forward. "Those books must weigh a ton. Here let me get
them." He took the stack from Tara's arms, carrying them with
ease.
Soon the trio were seated around a small table
and armed with tall cups of coffee. Willow looked sheepish as
she made her confession. "Last night, after the meeting, I sent
this email. I thought I was doing the right thing."
Wesley scanned the text of the document she gave
him. "This was a very dangerous bluff to play. I'm assuming it
was a bluff, that you wouldn't in fact be prepared to use the
full extent of your magic against human opponents."
"I don't know. I mean I just meant to scare them
off, but if they come after us... I guess I won't know how I'll
react until I'm actually put to the test. I mean, barrier spells
and stuff like that have worked before, maybe they'll work again."
"There's something else as well. Spike asked
Willow to check out Brandon and his father, just as a precaution.
She hasn't had much chance to work on it until tonight. It could
just be coincidence." Tara told him in a voice that conveyed little
hope that it was. She nodded to Willow, who began to spread out
the remaining print outs on the table in front of them, explaining
what she had found. "Brandon's dad only started teacher training
when he was awarded custody in the divorce case seven years ago.
Before that he was a war correspondent, and before that he worked
on The Stars and Stripes."
"The forces newspaper?" Wes asked, his tone of
voice showing that his interest had been piqued.
Willow nodded. "Yep. He's ex-military... or maybe
not so ex?" |
