Chapter Three

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Dawn awoke in a strange bed, the sleeping witch hogging all the covers. Shivering, she grabbed a robe thoughtfully left on one of the hangers on the back of the door, and tied it around her. She dreaded heading downstairs, but she reminded herself that she’d been through this before. Twice. By now, she was the expert at faking everybody out.

She knew the dance. You were allowed to behave however you wanted for a few days. Then you had eat, talk and do whatever it is that people ask of you, or people would worry. She could do that.

She frowned, thinking of the one flaw in her plan. There were too many supernaturally-powered types in this hotel. Tara was hard enough to get around, the natural empathic sensors of the witch going off whenever she lied about her state of mind. And though she didn’t like to because she felt it was an invasion of privacy, the witch could also read auras.

Angel would be able to smell her despair. Fucking vampire senses. Always messing things up. And that freaky Lorne fellow. She got the feeling that maybe he could sense things, too.

She sighed. Well, maybe they’d leave her alone, figure she was dealing with it on her own time if she did the dance. It was worth a try.

Reluctantly, she padded downstairs and into the lobby. The strange girl from the night before was the only one there. “Hello,” she greeted Dawn.

The teenager ignored her and took in the huge room. Then she started walking around the edges, pushing open every door she found and peering inside. The girl freaked out a little.

“Dawn, right? Well, Dawn, maybe you shouldn’t be looking at all of those things. ‘Cause, you know, some of them are like, antique and powerful, and some of them Angel just hates having disturbed, I don’t know why...”

Dawn phased her out.

Finally, she found Angel’s study. Stepping inside, she looked around and vaguely registered the woman sighing in exasperation and heading off. Maybe she was giving up, or maybe she was going to get somebody else. Dawn didn’t much care.

The vampire’s big chair looked comfortable. She sat down in it and started to peruse the items lying around the desk and walls. A few photos. Cordy, Fred, Gunn and Wesley. All smiling, in what Dawn figured must be a pretty rare moment.

She’d been wondering where Wes was, but since no one was willing to talk about him, she’d left it alone. She was a little ashamed of the fact that some part of her knew she was saving it for ammunition. Something that would hurt Angel, bad, if she ever needed to. But she couldn’t help it. It was just her defenses, kicking themselves up around her heart again. She remembered the feeling.

She started pulling open the drawers. At first, there was nothing spectacular. Some glue, tape, paper, a couple of ancient-looking orbs and talismans, all standard paranormal-detective fare. But the third drawer took her breath away and she gasped as she realized what she was looking at.

It was photo upon photo of her sister. Drawings, too. Charcoal and pencil and black and white and color. Then the pictures, Buffy with Willow, occasionally with Willow and Oz. Buffy with Xander. The three of them smiling happily in the sun. Buffy with her mother and Dawn. They both looked so young. Angel didn’t seem to have any pictures of the time after he’d left-- the newest of these photos were three years old.

Dawn curled up on herself in the chair and began to sob.

It was Angel that found her, twenty minutes later, still crying her eyes out with the entire drawer of the Buffy memorabilia on her lap. “Dawn?”

She looked up and sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. “What?”

The vampire stepped into the room. “Fred said you’d been looking around.”

“Oh.” The teenager looked vaguely defiant, like she was daring him to tell her she shouldn’t have poked her nose where it didn’t belong, but the entire effect was negated by the tears running down her cheeks and the defeated expression on her face.

“It’s alright. You’re welcome to look through our things, any time you want.” She nodded blankly, and Angel continued, forcing a smile. “Just stay away from the dark magick books, okay?”

She nodded again. “Tara told me that already.”

“Good.” Angel perched himself on the edge of his desk and looked down at her. “I see you found my Buffy drawer.” His voice was soft and full of pain.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry all the pictures are so old,” he offered. “Willow sent me a few after I left, but not very many.”

“Did you draw these?” Dawn asked.

He reached down to trace a finger gently over the outline of Buffy on the paper. “Yeah.”

“They’re good.” Apparently, Buffy had never shown her sister the drawings Angelus had left taunting her. Angel was glad.

“Thanks.” He paused, noticing Dawn was stuck on a particular picture, one of Buffy laughing, her hair thrown behind her in the wind. Angel had drawn it from memory-- from a favorite memory of their time patrolling together. She was absolutely radiant, the moonlight streaming over delicate figures that disguised a surprisingly powerful girl. She was only slightly older at the time than Dawn was now. “You can have it, if you want,” he offered softly.

Dawn looked up in surprise, her hand poised over the paper, afraid to touch it but aching to trace the delicate lines of the charcoal with the tips of her fingers. “I can?”

Angel nodded. “It would mean a lot to me to know that you had that,” he said. “That’s one of my favorites.”

Dawn’s brow crinkled in confusion. “Don’t you want to keep it, then?”

He shook his head. “You’ll keep it safe,” was the only answer he offered, and Dawn desperately wanted the picture, so she didn’t argue.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, were you looking for something?”

The teenager shook her head and looked down sheepishly. “I was just bored,” she admitted.

“Want to get some exercise?” The vampire’s eyes twinkled.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a training room downstairs.”

Dawn nodded eagerly. She was too hyped to sit still, maybe some vigorous exercise would help work it off. “Yeah.” She followed the vampire from the room, leaving the drawing he’d given her with the rest-- she’d come back and get it later.

Angel flipped a switch as they reached the bottom of the stairs and the overhead lights flickered on, lighting up the room. It wasn’t all that large, but it was decked out with pads, two heavy bags and various weaponry; all the things needed to train someone for survival in LA or Sunnydale.

“Cool,” Dawn said, looking around. She quickly stripped off her slippers and Angel turned his back as she put on some of Cordelia’s exercise gear. The top fit alright, but the bottoms were too short and too big at the hips. They were drawstring, though, so she pulled it tight and when she was fairly satisfied they weren’t going anywhere, told Angel he could turn around.

He did, and watched her stretch out carefully, admiring her flexibility. She was young enough to still have the resilient muscle stretch of childhood, yet old enough to have the coordination to control her movements. He could tell her fighting skills wouldn’t lack for the same simple grace that Buffy had moved with.

“Okay,” he told her, when she stood up. “Can you tell me what you’ve learned already?”

Dawn shrugged. “Basic defense, she called it.” No need to name Buffy, they all knew who the teen was talking about. “Blocks, punching, kicking, a couple throws I’m not very good at.”

Angel nodded. “Well, let’s work what you know so that I can see where you are, then we’ll see about more.”

Dawn looked skeptical. “You’re not going to baby me like she did?”

Angel’s face was deadly serious. “There are a lot of things out there in this world. You’re going to run into them. Whether you know how to fight them or not is the only question.” He paused. “Don’t get me wrong. We won’t be trying any of your skills on real demons anytime soon.”

Dawn’s face fell, but the vampire continued. “But we will get you to the point where you could, if you wanted to.”

“Okay.”

A voice came down the stairs then, questioning. “Dawn?”

“Down here, Tara!”

The witch appeared in the doorway in a long skirt and blouse, but still rubbing her eyes and trying to smooth her hair. “There you are.”

“Did I make you worry? I didn’t mean to,” The teenager responded instantly.

Tara smiled. “No. I knew you were safe, I can sense you when you’re in danger. Besides, Angel is here.” She turned briefly to flash the vampire the same smile. Though she’d only met him once before this, she trusted him instinctively. “I was just wondering where you were.”

“Training,” the vampire explained. “We’re going to work over some of Dawn’s moves and see about cleaning things up.”

Tara nodded. “That’s good. I’ll be in the kitchen, okay?”

The teen nodded. “Kitchen. Got’cha.” The witch disappeared, and Dawn watched her go.

Once Tara had closed the door at the top of the stairs, Dawn turned and Angel noticed the tears in her eyes. “Is is always going to be like this?” She asked brokenly.

“Like what?” He asked gently.

She gestured randomly. “So... normal. Everything is just the same, because we still have to eat and sleep and find something to fill the hours with, even though they’re gone.”

Angel was filled with an urge to tell her no, say everything would get better, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t going to lie to this girl-- he’d known immediately that was the last thing to do to earn her trust. Buffy, whether she’d meant to or not, had left Dawn in a bad place regarding honesty-- while she’d only meant to protect her little sister, she’d ended up deceiving her almost more than Dawn could forgive. “Yes,” he replied. “Sometimes. It gets better. Some days you don’t think about them for a couple of hours. Some days you just remember the happy things. But that takes a while. For now, you’ve just got to go on.”

Slowly, Dawn nodded, wiped her eyes on the back of her hands, and then dropped into a fighting crouch. “Ready?”

The vampire smiled, recognizing the resilience innate to this girl, made so much stronger if only she knew what to expect. “Ready.”

******

Lilah Morgan flinched as the glass to her office burst and Angel dropped onto the floor, but she covered it very well. “Hello,” she offered mildly, turning off her computer screen. “You know, we do have a door.”

Angel grinned humorlessly. “And vampire alarms and fairly well-armed, human guards, too.”

She smiled cattily back. “There is that.” Her face went serious. “What do you want?”

“Papers.” Angel didn’t waste time playing the dance. He wanted something done, Lilah could do it, though he was sure the price would be high.

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s a new one. Papers. What for?”

“Legal guardianship of a fifteen-year old girl.”

“Does she have a name?”

“Dawn Summers.”

Lilah’s eyebrows went higher. “The Slayer’s sister. Well, well. I suppose you knew there would be a risk, coming to ask us to help you.”

Angel’s senses went instantly on alert, and Lilah laughed. “Not to you directly, Angel. More... in a general sense.”

“Yes.” He was giving no ground. “What do you want from me?”

She put her hand under her chin. “Well, to start with, I want to you to stop harassing Wolfram and Hart’s legitimate lawyers.”

“Done.”

“Then I want a six-month break from your harassment of our... less conventional personnel.”

The vampire’s brow furrowed deeper, but he growled out an affirmative. “Done.”

Lilah smiled. “And then I want visiting rights to the child.”

“No!”

She didn’t back down. “Think about it, Angel. If she goes to foster care, I’ll get in to see her anyway. The only way you can protect her is to take the deal, and then you control when and how I see her.”

Angel was not happy. He was, however, going to agree to her plan. She smiled in satisfaction.

He growled deep in his chest. “Fine. But supervised only, by anyone I say, and in public.”

She nodded. “Fine.” Picking up the phone, she let it ring for a moment. “Clarisse? I need guardianship papers drawn up for a Dawn Summers. Make them for...” she glanced at the vampire.

“Rupert Giles and Tara Maclay.” The witch and the Watcher had both insisted that they take on Dawn’s guardianship so determinedly that eventually, there had been nothing to do but ask for split custody.

Lilah raised her eyebrows again at the name of the Watcher, but relayed the information. “..Rupert Giles and Tara Maclay. Send them to Angel’s place of residence when you’re finished, please?” She hung up.

“Is that all?” She gave him a deceivingly pleasant smile.

“That’s all,” he growled.

“You have my number. Do call, I’ll be wanting to see the child within the week.”

The vampire turned his famous death glare on her. “She’s just lost two very important people. I’m not letting you near her until she’s better able to deal with it!”

Lilah raised her hand and scolded him. “Tsk, tsk, Angel. I know you want those papers.” Her voice went dark and serious. “So call me.”

Growling, he leapt out the window and vanished. Lilah smiled. All and all, not a bad business deal, she decided.

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