Archive of Our Own ^beta

The bright decorations on the shop fronts, the bustle of the crowd in the mall hurrying to do Christmas shopping and the slightly obnoxious laugh of the guy dressed in the Santa suit posing for photos with kids on his lap all helped Joyce to forget the empty space on the Queen-sized bed waiting for her at home. If she just pretended for a few hours that two people were waiting for her at home and not just her daughter, she could feel her shoulders lift and her step become lighter. She just had to let herself enjoy the reprieve and be overcome with the holiday spirit, or whatever.

There hadn't been much holiday cheer at the house this Christmas. The divorce had finally been cleared the week before Thanksgiving. Buffy, her four-year-old, didn’t fully understand what was going on, but she did know that she saw her dad less often now, and she didn’t like it.

It was a bit trying on Joyce to have to deal with an upset young girl on her own, but she and Hank could never get back together again. Too many things had been said that even the spirit of the Christmas holiday couldn't forgive.

The toy store appeared just ahead on the left. She could see the isle dominated by pink boxes where she’d find the Barbie that Buffy wanted.

She could have sworn the way was clear. She had a clear view of the empty space between her and the store’s glass door. It was as if the man who appeared in front of her came out of the air itself. They collided, and Joyce’s purse slipped off her shoulder and clattered to the floor. She stared at the stranger. He looked as startled as she felt.

He was gorgeous. Jet-black hair framed bright-blue eyes and a handsome face. His button-down olive-green shirt, olive-green pants bordered in yellow and leather hiking boots strangely complemented each other, though the color combination should have looked horrible and would have on someone else. Joyce was no strange to taste and wealth. Though she didn’t recognize the designer, she knew the materials used in his clothing were far from cheap and had never gone near a sewing machine.

His startled expression softened into a smile. "Forgive me, madam. I hope I didn’t hurt you."

She blinked. His accent was as exotic as his clothing. “Oh, no, not at all.” She gave him a warm, polite smile and bent down to pick up her purse. She wished she’d worn a lower-cut blouse. "I'm so sorry about that. I didn't see you."

"It is I who am at fault. I should have been paying more attention. I'm Oliver Amberson."

She shook his proffered hand. "Joyce Summers."

Oliver brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. She couldn't stop the giggle that escaped.

He motioned to the toy store only a few feet away. "Were you intending to purchase some toys? I hope I'm not intruding."

"Oh, no, not at all. I'm just getting something for my daughter."

"Ah." He nodded. "Children are always difficult to please, are they not?"

"Oh, you have children?"

He nodded again, amused. "Yes, several. Might I offer some advice? I find that young girls do enjoy playing dress-up, either on themselves or on their dolls." He smiled. "Of course, you would know your daughter best."

"Actually, you're not far from the mark."

She bit her lip as she glanced from his kind, hunk of a face to the toy store entrance. After a moment's indecision, she said, "I shouldn't be very long. Would you like to go for a cup of coffee after I'm done? We could go to that coffee shop near the food court.”

His smile widened. "I'd be honored, Ms. Summers."

She could feel herself blushing. "Please, call me Joyce."

Coffee, as it turned out, was a very, very good idea. They got to talking about their children, though he ended up doing most of the talking. She was hesitant to discuss her home life in any detail so soon after meeting him. Oliver did not share similar qualms about his own family.

"Oh, they're all grown, now," he admitted with a shrug when she asked.

This came as a bit of a surprise. Oliver Amberson looked not a day over thirty-five, if not forty-five. She didn't mind that he was older than she was, though she did wonder how he could possibly look so young.

"How many children?" She had trouble picturing it, really; Buffy was enough of a handful.

"Five, I'm afraid...so far," he said with a teasing smile. "I suppose that makes me an old fart."

"Well, if that's true," she said, matching his smile, "You're well preserved, Grandpa."

He laughed. "I like your-what is the word-spunk, Joyce. You are quite an attractive woman."

They were being so childish, and yet, she couldn't help blushing again.

She didn't tell him where she lived until their second date, when she told him to pick her up at the house. By this time, she had decided that he could be trusted with the whereabouts of her daughter, and she was right. Buffy didn't much care for him at first, but his irresistible charm wore her down with as much success as it had her mother.

It wasn't until after their fifth date, when Buffy was spending the night at her grandparents', that Joyce asked him to stay the night. They dated a few more times after that until, suddenly, Oliver disappeared.

Joyce quickly discovered he had left town without a word. She never learned what had happened to him, and she didn’t know his reason for leaving.

For months afterward, she felt foolish and disappointed. She couldn’t understand what had happened. He hadn’t seemed like the type to leave without even saying goodbye. So soon after the divorce, she should have expected it. She should have learned that good things never lasted.

The divorce had taught her to be prepared for the worst and to cherish the good memories over the bad ones. Because she had to prepare for the worst, she went to the doctor’s to take a pregnancy test. Just to be sure.

On the day she had the appointment, she couldn’t seem to do anything right. She’d stayed home from work, and it was a good thing she had or she would have damaged the blown-glass pieces on display in the gallery. As it was, she knocked over a ceramic vase in her living room and seriously startled Buffy. She was even more jittery as she waited for the results.

After what had seemed to be decades, the nurse gave her the news. The results were negative. She wasn’t pregnant.

A strange mixture of regret and relief swept through her. She’d always wanted a second child, anyway, while Hank had been content with only one. Being on her own changed that. It wasn't a question of finances; she was reasonably sure, if she cut back on a few things, that she could have afforded to raise two children. She simply had her hands full with only one child.

So, that was the end of it. Sometimes, she wondered where Oliver had gone and what right he had to treat her so well and then so poorly. Other times, she hoped he was all right, wherever he was.

They’d only been together for a couple months. She shouldn’t have felt as if it had been a more involved relationship than that. It had ended on a bad note, but it had been nice while it had lasted. If it hadn’t happened so soon after the divorce, she was certain Oliver’s disappearance wouldn’t have affected her so much.

Joyce Summers raised Elizabeth "Buffy" Anne Summers as best as she could. A couple of months before Buffy's sixteenth birthday, when her daughter was expelled from school for burning down the gym, Joyce decided that a change of scene would be just the thing. Sunnydale seemed like the perfect destination. She wouldn’t learn any differently for a year and a half after moving there.

This was what happened. This was not what she would remember.

*****

The ceramic vase shattered.

Buffy slammed the pan down on the stove, spun around and raised the spatula, ready to battle any flower-killing demons she may encounter on the other side of the kitchen isle.

“Oops,” Dawn said. She looked chagrined, but that didn’t change the fact that there were bits of ceramic, splatters of water and discarded flowers all over the breakfast tray.

Buffy dropped the spatula. “Good job, Dawn, because Ceramic and Flower Stem Surprise is exactly what Mom needs this morning.” Here she was, trying to cook a nice breakfast for their mom, and Dawn just had to come along and mess some part of it up. Miraculously, the mess seemed to have missed the food on the tray. Buffy turned back to the stove. “You’re cleaning that up.”

“Like, duh.” Dawn grabbed some paper towers and mopped up the water and flowers.

A new voice made Buffy freeze. She winced, but there was nothing but warmth in her mother’s tone.

“Oh! Check out the ‘Pamper Mom’ platter.” Joyce entered the kitchen as Buffy turned around, ready to dish the well-toasted toast onto the tray. “You two do all this?”

“Oh, Buffy helped,” said Dawn, smiling innocently.

Buffy stared at her sister’s head. "I didn't 'help'." Next time Giles wanted the sisters to spar together, Buffy was so going to be ready with the deliverance of pain.

"I’m sure you did," Joyce said absently as she sat down next to Dawn. "So, neither of you is pregnant, failing or under indictment?"

Buffy and Dawn met her gaze with blank looks.

"Just checking."

Buffy jumped in before her sister could say something else completely untrue, "We knew you were feeling less-than-great so..."

She stopped when Joyce rolled her eyes. "Yeah, the headaches they said would go away came back and brought some friends along with."

Dawn tensed as much as she did.

"Well, what did the doctor say?" Her fingers gripped the edge of the counter. Across the counter, Dawn’s hand curled into a fist.

Joyce was still trying for nonchalance. It was supposed to be reassuring, a signal that there was nothing to worry about. Buffy wished it worked.

"Oh,” said Joyce, “take four of some-pills a day and come back for tests."

All those tests, all that time spent at the hospital already, and for nothing? Buffy felt the countertop start to crack underneath her fingers and dropped her hands. "So they don't know what's wrong?”

"Not yet."

"Well, that's unacceptable. I think we should get a second opinion."

Joyce smiled. "Well, we need a first opinion first, honey."

"Okay." Buffy threw her apron down on the counter decisively. "We'll go right now."

Joyce seemed to be tired, proud and annoyed all at once. "Buffy, I know you're concerned, okay? But don't be. I'm still the mom. Which means I get to worry about you two, which is a good thing because you're a Vampire Slayer."

She pulled Dawn into her lap. Dawn didn’t resist, though she could have, easily.

"And you...in addition to being the other vampire slayer in the house, when you’re older, you are my little punkin' belly!"

The tension in Dawn’s shoulders disappeared. She tried to suppress a giggle. "Mom! That's, like, my kid name.”

"So I can't be Retro?" Their mom arched an eyebrow.

The tension left Buffy’s frame, as well, only to be replaced by something else. Not that was possible that she was jealous of her own sister. No way, no how.

"Did you ever have any names for me?" Her voice betrayed more hope than she’d wanted.

"No... I think you were always just Buffy," Joyce answered with a smile.

"I got some names for ya..." Dawn smiled cheekily.

Buffy turned away. Dawn and their mother had always gotten along better than she did with their mom. Sometimes, like now, she wished it wasn't like that. There were so many reasons why their relationship was like that. She could easily remember some of the killer ones. When she’d first become the Slayer, she’d tried to keep it a secret from their mom. Their mom already had to deal with one superhuman daughter; Buffy didn’t want her to know that she might lose her supposedly ‘normal’ daughter to a vampire attack on any night of the week. The only reason why Joyce even discovered the truth was because Dawn blabbered. Dawn had never hidden anything from any of the Summers women; Buffy couldn’t even say that.

That was all in the past. Another reason was that, although Dawn was stronger physically than even Buffy was, Buffy was older and had to act like the emotionally strong one. Over the years, it had placed a boundary between her and her mom that Dawn could still cross.

"What are you doing hanging around here? Isn't this Giles' big day?"

Startled, the older Summers girl stared at Joyce. "Oh!” Buffy nodded. “Bigger than big. It's his grand opening." She winced as she realized she was babbling. Get it together, girl, she told herself. Mom doesn't need that right now.

"So go," Joyce said, dismissing them with a wave of her hand. "Bring me back a... I don't know... a flying broomstick or something."

"Those never really work," Dawn informed her sadly.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She pulled away from Dawn and pushed the taller girl off her lap. "You girls get out of here, go help Mr. Giles. Enjoy yourselves."

Buffy nodded, giving in for now. "Okay, we're gonna go. We'll be back later. What time is your doctor's appointment?"

Joyce just gave her an exasperated look.

Buffy put her hands up in a peace offering. "I just want to know...take it easy. I want you to relax all day, keep your feet up, plenty of Oprah."

Dawn nodded. "Plus, you can check my rain forest report and you know there's like eighty bazillion old board games-"

Buffy rolled her eyes before grabbing her sister's arm, clamping down with all the strength she could muster as she headed for the door. Surprised, Dawn stumbled forward a step. She shifted her balance and planted her feet firmly on the floor, and Buffy ended up being the one in danger of losing her balance.

They glared at each other on their way out the door.

"Bye, kids!" Joyce called after them.

“Bye!” Buffy looked back one last time before she shut the door and caught a glimpse of Joyce’s blonde curls as she turned to her breakfast. Buffy smiled a little as her mother took a bite of the pancakes. Maybe her mom was right. Maybe there was nothing to worry about.

Yeah, and the Hellmouth didn’t exist, her sister wasn’t a super-strong freakazoid brat and she wasn’t the Slayer.

“Race you to the Magic Box,” said Dawn.

“What?” Buffy turned, but Dawn was already racing across the yard. “Hey!” Buffy leapt over the steps, landed smoothly on the concrete path and took off after her.

*****

The sunny streets of Sunnydale passed by in a blur. Dawn passed the coffee shop and the movie theatre without slowing down to see what movies were playing. She smiled. She’d left Buffy behind on the last block. Beating her annoying older sister was always a plus, and a major one at that, but she would have run anyway even if she’d been alone. Sure, she may have had no idea what half of her biology was, but that at least was normal for her. She wished Sunnydale Middle still had a track team, but the last coach had been torn to little icky bits the week before the season started, and he hadn’t been replaced.

She could taste the magic in the air. It was sour, with a hint of brimstone. The brimstone taste would become stronger the closer she was to the Hellmouth, but it wasn’t very strong in the downtown area. The combination was undesirable, but she’d had to live with it for so long that she’d managed to tune it out...or...un-taste it out or whatever.

She slowed down as she approached the Magic Box, and her smile widened. The brimstone flavor faded to a background taste here due to the number of wards Giles, Willow and Tara had set up on the perimeter of the shop. The high concentration of potential magic spells-as Giles had explained it-caused a tickling sensation down her spine. The taste was a lot less sour and a lot more sweet and bubbly.

She was breathing hard as she opened the door and stepped inside. The exterior looked the same, but the interior looked much more pleasant, what with a lack of a dead body and unicorn statues that had been there the last time she was in the magic shop.

“Oh, hello, Dawn.” Giles stood in the middle of the store, in front of the corner.

“Hey, Giles.” Dawn flashed him in a smile and looked around, trying to take it all in at once. Tables and counters and shelves were covered with magical paraphernalia, books and spell ingredients. Her eyes widened. Giles being Buffy's former Watcher and all, she'd known the selection would be a good and varied one, but she'd never been in a magic shop with so much stuff before. Most of the magic shops in Sunnydale were tiny ones, and compared to them, the Magic Box was a superstore. "Whoa. This place is just so...wow."

Her gaze passed over Giles. A moment later, her attention snapped back to the older man.

Giles offered her a small, hopeful smile. Dawn just kept staring.

"Interesting outfit," she finally said. It was the most diplomatic comment she could come up with.

His shoulders slumped a little. "Yes, well, it had seemed like a good idea at the time."

Rupert Giles, former Watcher and High School Librarian and new owner and manager of the Magic Box, wore a pointed, purple wizard's hat and purple robe over his normal clothes. Said hat and robe were decorated with silver stars.

He looked distinctly un-Giles-ish.

Dawn gave him a doubtful look. He sighed and took off the robe and hat and placed them behind the counter.

The bell over the door jangled again as Buffy stepped through the door. She was breathing heavily, but no more so than Dawn. Dawn made a face. It would have been funnier if her sister had arrived at the shop panting.

Still, she gave Buffy a smug look. Buffy ignored it and looked around instead.

Giles was smiling at them for some reason.

"So, when's it open?" Dawn asked. "You know, for customers?" While the shop was far from devoid of products, it was missing key members of the public who would buy things.

Giles frowned. "Since nine this morning, actually. Still, not to worry." He nodded. “No, I've got feelings about this place. Magic's a niche market, but..." He looked around. "Well, think about it. Sunnydale, monsters, supply and demand-they'll be lining up around the block in no time."

Dawn nodded as her gaze landed on the table to the right of the door. Little cloth figurines lying in a row caught her attention. She picked a couple up and studied them.

"Yeah," she heard Buffy say. "You'll be making money hand over fist...which I guess is a good thing."

Dawn looked up. Giles was frowning in concern. "You all right? You both seem a little distracted."

It was only last week when she’d come home with Buffy and found their mother lying on the kitchen floor. Dawn winced.

"It's just, our mom's still sick and we have no idea what the deal is," Buffy said.

Dawn joined them. "The doctors will find out. Right?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah." She made a face. "Yeah, we have a highly trained medical staff working 'round the clock...to tell us diddly."

Dawn looked at her feet. She hated to think about how sick her mom really was. Mom had always been the strong one, no matter what Dawn's own physical abilities may have been. Everything was turning upside down and backwards. She wanted everything to go back to normal.

"I'm sorry." Giles gave them a smile. "Still, you know, time and patience...both great comforts-"

The door chimed. Willow was beaming as she entered the store. Riley appeared behind her.

Willow was one of Dawn’s favorite people. The twenty-year-old witch was one of the few adults who didn’t tend to treat her like a little kid. Dawn was pretty sure she was allowed to come to Scooby meetings only because she was good at the butt-kicking.

“Giles! Where’s your hat and cloak?” Willow asked.

Buffy frowned. “Your what, now?”

“It was majorly weird,” Dawn said. While Buffy greeted her boyfriend, Dawn waved Willow over. “Willow! You’ve got to see this. They have the coolest talismens...mans...talisguys. I-”

“Actually,” Her sister said loudly, rudely interrupting. “I have a little Scooby-centric deal to deal with first.”

Dawn forgot her annoyance as Buffy reached into her bag and pulled out a crystal globe. There was something about it that was familiar. She didn’t know why. Crystal balls usually came in white or off-white or other colors that were distinctly white-ish; this was decidedly none of those things.

"I put this before the group. What the hell is it?"

Giles studied it in his intense Watcher-way. "It appears to be paranormal in origin."

Willow frowned. "How can you tell?"

Giles struggled. "Well...it's so shiny."

They studied it in silence. Buffy turned to her sister and held it out. “You getting any vibes from it?”

Dawn’s fingers brushed against the surface. She gasped and jerked her hand away.

"What is it?" Riley asked.

"I-I don't know," Dawn stared at the sphere and her hand. "It felt...warm.” It had shot through her fingers and up through her arm. Her skin tingled, but not unpleasantly. “Magical, too."

"Well, there you go, paranormal in origin." Giles looked pleased with himself.

Everyone looked at him for a moment before turning back to Dawn. She reached out again to take the sphere.

Buffy pulled it away. "If you break this-"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, Buffy. I can hold back my strength. Besides, you do it all the time, and you don't hear me going around saying things like 'don't touch' or 'be careful.'" She took the ball from Buffy and held it up in front of her face. She was ready for the tingling feeling now. "Yep, definitely getting a vibe here." The familiar feeling was still there, as if she’d been near something this before, or at least something like it. She’d spent a lot of time around something like this. She didn’t think she’d ever held it before, though; that tingling sensation as her skin touched it was definitely new. She wished she knew why she felt so certain about that.

She shrugged. "It's a round, green, magic thing." She handed it to Giles.

"Green?" Willow repeated.

Dawn frowned. "Well, yeah. It's glowing green.”

No one said anything.

“Isn't it?"

Riley folded his arms. "We're seeing a yellowish-golden color.”

"It appears green to you?" Giles’ brow furrowed in thought.

Dawn nodded.

"Hmm. Well, I suppose this means we'll need to hit the books," he said. He looked way too happy at the prospect.

"I say there may be more where that came from. We should go back out again tonight," Riley said.

Dawn nodded. "Definitely."

Buffy couldn't help but agree.

*****

The sisters walked in silence to Revello Drive. As much as Dawn wanted to make sure her mom was okay, she wished she was back at the Magic Box, helping with the research. She usually got vibes from magical stuff; that was nothing weird. It was unusual that she’d seen a different color. That sort of unusual tended to bring her one step closer to finding out more about herself and her father.

She and Buffy were raised by Joyce. They didn’t know what it was like to have two parents in the house. Still, Buffy was the lucky one. She occasionally went to stay with her father, Hank. Dawn had met Hank a couple of times, and he’d seemed like a nice guy. She had no idea what her own father was like, other than that he was good at abandoning people. All she had to go on was her mother’s description, a few photographs and what Buffy could remember about him. Joyce had never noticed anything unusual about Oliver Amberson, and he’d apparently never divulged any of his deep, dark secrets to her. Dawn might never know what he was like or what he was, and as much as she was used to that, she still wanted to know more.

In between the woes of school and having an annoying older sister, she often wondered what exactly that non-human half of her was. She wanted to know why she was stronger than Buffy, or why she could run faster. Their healing factors were pretty much on the same wavelength, not that Dawn had had many opportunities to test them out; she may have been super strong, but Joyce drew the line at a fourteen-year-old going on patrols.

She’d performed spells on herself to see if she was a demon. All of them had come up negative. Then she’d tried spells that would check if she was human. The results of those were mixed, meaning she was half-human, but she’d already known that. The only other option she could think of was that she was half-alien, which would be kind-of cool. Giles and the others knew about only some of the spells she’d performed, but not all of them. Dawn just couldn’t not look for answers.

Buffy entered the house ahead of her. The TV was blaring in the living room, which meant their mom was in there, resting as prescribed by Dr. Buffy.

“Mom?” Buffy called, ducking her head into the living room.

A moan interrupted Dawn’s thoughts. Joyce lay on the couch, eyes closed.

“Mom!” Buffy repeated.

Dawn tried to see over Buffy’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” She hated this. Joyce Summers had always been the one to take care of them; it shouldn’t have been the other way around, ever.

Joyce struggled to sit up. They helped her. “It's just my head,” she said, trying to sound assuring.

“I'm taking you to the doctor,” Buffy said in her no-nonsense voice.

“No, sweetheart. I'm fine-”

“We don't know that. We don't know anything. We're going.”

“I just need my prescription. Please?” She pointed at the empty prescription bottle resting on the coffee table.

“Hospital pharmacy open?” Buffy asked.

“Mm-hmm.” Joyce nodded.

Buffy reached for the bottle. Dawn grabbed it first. “I’m faster." She met her sister’s eyes and dared her to say anything.

Buffy frowned but nodded.

She didn’t wait for her sister to change her mind. With one last glance at her mom, Dawn rushed out the door.

Sunnydale Hospital was in the good part of town. It was several blocks away from Revello Drive, close to Sunnydale High, a little closer to UC-Sunnydale, closest to the rich section of town, and far away from the warehouse district.

The sun was still shining and it was a warm, pleasant day. It was way too surreal.

Dawn sprinted as fast as she could and pushed herself even more. When she reached the ER entrance, she had to lean heavily against the wall just outside and pant for a while. She was still breathing hard when she entered the building and started looking for the pharmacy.

She waited impatiently for the prescription to be refilled, and after what seemed like forever and then some, she finally got the bottle back. She used the credit card meant solely for emergencies and turned away from the counter as soon as she got the card back. Then she had to wait as three orderlies wheeled a patient on a gurney down the hall.

One of the orderlies spotted her. “Hey! It’s Dawn, isn’t it?”

“Oh, hi, Ben.” She smiled a little. He was nice. He was one of the doctors who’d treated her mom during her first visit to the hospital.

The patient on the gurney sat up. Dawn took a step back.

He had that special half-gone look in his eyes that crazy people got. He was staring wide-eyed ahead of him. Whatever he was seeing, it wasn’t in the hospital corridor. “I don’t belong here,” he said. “I have important instructions. Fascists!”

Ben pushed him back down while the other two orderlies tried to restrain him. “Now you're hurting the nice orderly who's here to help you,” Ben told him as the man struggled. Ben turned to one of the nurses. “I need nine cc's of Phenobarbital in this guy now-”

Without stopping to think about what she was doing, Dawn stepped forward and slammed the guy back against the gurney, easily holding him there with one hand.

The disturbed man’s eyes snapped to hers, and Dawn found herself the subject of a very creepy grimace.

Ben’s jaw dropped. “...Or not.” He turned back to his comrades. “Now, let’s strap him. For your own good, I promise,” he told the glaring patient.

As they strapped him down, Ben studied Dawn. “You know, not to be rampantly sexist in the workplace, but you've got some serious muscles for a girl.”

“Oh, I, uh, I mean-”

“Radioactive spider bite.”

Dawn laughed nervously. “Right. That’s me. Dawn Summers by day, red spandex wearer by night. But, um, not really. ‘Cause red spandex is so not fashionable.” Her cheeks were warm. “Er...”

The insane man mumbled, “Green light...lots of green light...”

“What?” Dawn looked down sharply.

His sight was suddenly sharp, though sanity had yet to reenter the building. He was pointing directly at her. Why was he pointing at her? “Beautiful green light...”

A chill traveled up her spine. Dawn folded her arms. She wondered if he was talking about that sphere, or if he was talking about something else. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what the ‘else’ was. “What-What do you mean?”

His hand closed around her arm. She nearly yelped. His grip was stronger than she’d figured it would be.

He stared at the pill bottle clutched in her hand. “Doesn’t even help. Doesn't make a damn bit of difference!” His eyes snapped back to her face. “They're coming at you. Don't think you're above it, missy. They come through the family! They get to your family!"

*****

“What did he look like?” Buffy asked.

“Brown hair, eyes, manic expression,” Dawn replied.

For once, they were running but not racing, partly because they were in a hurry and wanted to get to the Magic Box as soon as possible, but partly because they couldn’t talk while they were racing each other. Just running could be...nice. Or walking. Buffy could do walking. It was one of those few things they could do together that was normal, or about as normal as either of them could get. It would have been nicer if she could have enjoyed it.

“So, he was crazy?”

“Yeah. I mean, he wasn’t doing a great job in the clarity department, but it was like he knew something.”

“Did he have on a security-guard uniform? Gray pants and shirt?”

Dawn nodded. “Yeah, he did. His shirt had some company name on it, um...Germane Security, or Germ Ace Secretaries. I think it was the first one.”

“That sounds like the security guard that I ran into on patrol last night.”

“When you found that orb-thing?”

Buffy nodded. “Right. Which meant he wasn’t just crazy.”

“So, do you think that someone did a spell on Mom, too? Or do you think it’s something completely different? I mean, maybe he is just crazy. My friend Stacy’s brother knows a guy who spent a whole summer at a psych ward and the inmates there were always having weird fits like the security guy’s. Do-do you think this could just be something like that?”

She looked expectant, and she was looking at Buffy. Buffy wanted to be all reassuring and Answer-Girl, but she had no idea what to tell her younger sister. She took a deep breath and tried to smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll get Willow and Tara on it, first thing. If someone’s trying to hurt Mom, we’ll find him, and then I’ll kick his butt.”

Dawn didn’t look reassured. Buffy wasn’t good at being the reassuring person, apparently.

“Buffy...” Dawn bit her lip. “...when he looked at me, he-he said I looked all greenish and lighty."

"Huh?" Even Buffy couldn't understand that one.

"He said he saw a green light instead of me."

Buffy frowned as they turned onto the Magic Box’s street. "We'll ask Giles about that, too."

Giles was behind the counter and Anya stood across from him, frowning at a number of products she held above the glass countertop. Willow sat in the corner, skimming a large volume in search of answers to the ambiguous, greenish-whitish crystal orb.

"Giles, we have an idea what's making our Mom sick," Buffy told him without bothering with preliminaries. This was too important to waste time. Besides, it hadn’t even been two hours since they’d last seen each other.

"Have you spoken with her doctors?" Giles asked.

Dawn and Buffy shook their heads, which was a bit like talking in stereo, only with nodding. Any other time, Buffy would have cared. "They won't find anything. What's hurting her-it's supernatural."

The orb lay on a velvet cloth on the counter next to Willow’s book. Buffy grabbed it. "The night watchman who found this thing? He went crazy, like, overnight.”

Willow, Giles and Anya scooted away from it.

She shook her head. “It won’t hurt us. I had it on me all night. But this guy, he saw things...he said things."

She turned to Dawn for confirmation. Dawn nodded.

"Such as?" Giles prompted.

Dawn swallowed and folded her arms. "They'll come at me through my family. That's what he told me."

"Who will?" Willow asked.

"We don't know," Dawn said, worried. "But there’s no way he was just a normal crazy guy. It was like-he definitely knew something.”

“Whatever touched this guy, it had to have been supernatural.” Finally, Buffy had someone to fight; someone, not some disease or whatever, had made her mom sick. She was going to make them pay. No one messed with her family, ever. “He knew someone or something is hurting my mom."

Giles shrugged as Anya and Willow exchanged a look. “It’s possible,” he said,
“but still, the ramblings of a madman aren't much to go on."

It wasn’t exactly the answer she was looking for. "Yeah, but it's a start. We need to find out who's making our mom sick and how."

"Then what?" Willow asked.

Buffy met her sister’s steely gaze with her own. The Slayer answered, "Then we hunt them...find them...and kill them."

Dawn straightened and nodded, all at once looking years older. "Sounds like a plan."

*****

Dawn sat at the table on the main floor, and Anya and Willow returned to the space behind the counter. Giles wandered around, staring bug-eyed at all the customers and muttering to himself. He eventually found his way back to the counter. It would have been funny if Buffy had been in the mood to laugh.

She found the huge crowd a bit overwhelming, too. The store had been big and empty earlier. It had reminded her a little of the library, except the Magic Box was a lot brighter and crowd-er with all the magic stuff. The store wasn’t empty anymore, and it most decidedly no longer resembled the high school library. Buffy skirted around customers as she paced. It made her more frustrated. She wanted to get back home to check on her mom, but she needed to be here, in case she or the other Scoobies found something.

Since Joyce had collapsed that first time, Buffy had felt helpless. This was something she couldn’t fight, where she had to trust others to do the fighting for her. It didn’t sit well with her, and she just couldn’t sit still through it. Finally, finally, there was something that might lead to a solution and make her mom healthy again, something she could beat up personally. It would make her feel a whole lot better.

Research always took time. She knew that well enough, after four whole years of having to do it to learn about the big and small bads. It was still going way too slowly.

Anya grabbed some wrapping paper and set an hourglass on the glass countertop. She was the only one who was chipper, but then she always seemed chipper-like. She was loaded with chips. Anya still hadn’t settled in to the whole being-human thing and acting-human thing. It had been two years already since she’d lost her power source and had become human again, but that had been after she’d spent a whole millennia as the ultimate scary, veiny scorned woman. Buffy sometimes wondered if other wish demons acted like Anya. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

"You know,” said Anya, “there used to be this French sorcerer back in the 16th I-don't-know-what named..."

Giles’ eyes snapped to hers. “Cloutier?” He looked relieved, perhaps at having something to focus on that would allow him to ignore everything else going on in the shop.

Anya nodded and smiled. “So cute in his little knickers.”

Buffy wasn’t the only one staring.

“He had this one spell demons just hated called 'tirer la couture.'"

Buffy frowned. "Rotate many foodstuffs?”

Dawn had joined them at the counter. She rolled her eyes. "Pull the curtain back.”

Buffy made a face. "Show off."

“It’s not my fault there wasn’t enough room in your tiny brain for all those years of French classes.”

“So, spell?” Willow asked.

"It’s a spell to see spells.” Anya paused. “Well, a trance to see spells, actually, but you get the idea. Try that."

"What do you mean 'see' spells?" the Slayer asked.

"Yeah. I know spells sometimes look all glowy and purple and stuff," said Dawn, "but you don't need a spell to see that."

"Well, all spells leave a trace signature," Giles replied. "It's usually not perceptible to the human eye, although there are exceptions in your case, Dawn."

"'Cause I'm half-human and all."

Giles nodded. "In this case, it could be the image of a hand choking your mother."

"Or a cloud of mist around her," said Anya.

"Or maybe the shape of the demon that's performing the spell?" Willow suggested.

"Possible, yes," Giles replied.

Dawn and Buffy exchanged a look, nodding. Buffy said, "Okay, so I’ll do what the French guy did, and then I’ll know what's affecting our mom."

“We’ll know.” Dawn folded her arms. “I’m so not sitting out on this one. She’s my mom, too.”

Dawn was the strongest person in the Summers clan. She healed as fast as Buffy did and she could hold her own in a sparring session and in the event of an apocalypse, when her help was unavailable. However, none of these things changed the fact that Dawn was the baby. Joyce had forbidden Dawn from doing in any Slaying until she was, at the least, sixteen.

They’d argued over it so often that it was nearly routine. Buffy just didn’t feel like bothering at the moment. She wanted to get going on this trance spell.

She sighed. “Fine. Just...stay out of the way. Mom will kill me if she finds out you’ve been doing magic.” She ignored Dawn’s scowl and asked Anya, “What do we need to do?”

“Buffy,” said Giles, “the sorcerer Cloutier was legendary. His skills at achieving higher states of consciousness were-"

"Better than mine?" Buffy interrupted. "But I've been practicing concentration skills. I know I'm close."

Giles had on his intense Watcher face. "Are you ready?"

"It's our mom," Dawn answered. "We'll be ready."

*****

Joyce was sitting at the kitchen counter, eating a mid-afternoon snack. Wonderful smells met them as they entered through the kitchen door. Dawn’s stomach grumbled.

“Oh, hey, Dawn, Buffy. How’s Giles doing on his first day?”

Buffy shifted the bag slung over one of her shoulders and smiled awkwardly. “Fine. He’s...fine.”

Dawn rolled her eyes. Like that was believable. Her sister had always been a bad fibber.

Their mom frowned at Buffy. “Are you all right?”

It was weird hearing her say that, since she was the one under attack. Not that she knew that, exactly.

“It’s nothing,” Buffy replied. “Just...normal Slayer stuff.”

“Hmm.”

“How are you doing?” Dawn asked.

Joyce gave her a tired smile. “I’m feeling a lot better than I did this morning. For instance, I remember very clearly that you have a Physics project due on Monday. Don’t forget to work on it tonight.”

Dawn made a face. There were more important things to do than school. She wished she could just say that, but her mom would probably tell her to do her homework anyway and leave the spell work to Buffy. Stupid house rule about no magic and no slaying until you’re sixteen. It was a good thing Joyce didn’t know Dawn had done magic before, and she’d even done a little Slaying on occasion. Just like she was about to do in a moment. There was no way she’d be able to do homework, not with a spell going on.

That security guy’s creepy, wide-eyed stare was still clear in her memory. Whatever had done that to him, whatever was messing with their mom, she, he or it was going to regret it.

They left Joyce at the counter and went up the stairs to Buffy’s room.

Buffy tipped over her shoulder bag. Jars of incense and something sand-like and a collection of powders that left a salty-metallicy-and-weirdly-sugary taste on Dawn’s tongue became a pile at the center of a floor rug.

Dawn generally tried to avoid Buffy’s room. The last time she’d been in there had been when she’d suspected Buffy had stolen a pair of her earrings. It hadn’t changed much since they’d moved in, except in the details. Buffy tended to spend little of her time here, what with the slaying and the Bronzing and other aspects of life in Sunnydale. The bed was still between the two windows under the sloped ceiling, and the overruling theme of the room was still crème, pastel and whicker.

Buffy handed her the incense jar and a box of matches. "Light this. I'll spread the sandy stuff in a circle."

Dawn handed it back. "No way. Your circles always look like squares." She grabbed the jar of sand and started to pour it out on the rug before Buffy could do more than utter a sound of protest.

"Fine," Buffy muttered.

She poured the incense out in a bowl and used a match to light it.

The spell was ready in less than a minute. Dawn screwed the lid back on the jar and took a step back, looking at her sister. Buffy took a deep breath before stepping into the circle. She sat cross-legged on the floor.

"You sure you can do this?" Dawn asked her, a little nervous.

Buffy nodded. "I'm sure." She looked up at Dawn. "I need to concentrate now, so..."

Dawn nodded. "Right." She headed for the door. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Buffy said, smiling a little.

*****

Dawn left, closing the door on her way.

Buffy took another deep breath and closed her eyes, willing herself to relax and let the spell work its magic.

When she opened her eyes again, the light shining through her window had disappeared. Hours had passed and she hadn't noticed, yet she found she didn't mind. Buffy felt like she'd surfaced from a deep sleep and was caught in the state between sleeping and waking.

She got to her feet and looked around. Everything in her room was the way it was the last time she'd seen it, but she felt like she was seeing it out of new eyes. Three-dimensional objects appeared to be flat. Colors seemed dimmer and less distinct. Browns, grays and whites dominated the spectrum like a faded black-and-white movie, with a few deep reds scattered throughout.

She stepped out of the sand circle and walked to the door. She stepped into the hallway and looked around. Reality was distorted here, as well. She walked steadily down the hall and then down the stairs to the first-floor foyer, taking everything in as she went. Sounds, too, were distorted; she couldn't hear the stairs squeak as she descended them.

A muffled voice called to her. Buffy's brow creased as it became more distinct. "Buffy?"

She turned. Her mother had approached her and was now standing in front of the door. Joyce was pulling on her coat.

"Mom?" Buffy asked, slightly puzzled. "Are you going out?"

Joyce smiled and shrugged. "Well, either modern medicine's working or I just took the world's best placebo. Either way, I'm going out for a couple of hours."

Buffy's gaze drifted over her mother, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary. She looked more carefully, letting her gaze drift over her mother's face, hair, neck and clothes, looking for some trace of the spell that was making her mother sick. She couldn't see anything.

"Nothing..." she mumbled, confused.

Joyce paused. "Hmm?"

"There's nothing," Buffy continued, still talking to herself. She checked the space to the left of her mother, then let her gaze drift to the right. There. Something small was blinking in and out of sight, as if trying to get Buffy's attention. Buffy focused on it and found herself staring.

A framed photograph hung on the wall near Joyce's head. In it, Buffy, Joyce and Dawn were kneeling in front of a bush, smiling for the picture-taker. Everything in the picture was fine except...Dawn. Buffy stared as Dawn's picture faded out before fading back in again. One moment, there was nothing but the bush; the next, Dawn's smiling face was back, only to disappear all over again.

Alarm overran Buffy's spell-induced calm. Her confusion deepened. She couldn't understand it. She had a bad feeling that there was more to it than just the one photo.

Joyce was worried now. "Are you sure you're feeling okay? You seem a little out of it. Hey...Buffy?"

Buffy turned her attention back to her mom. She shook her head, trying to clear it. "Yeah, I'm fine," she assured Joyce with a smile. "Long day is all. You go, have a good time."

Joyce smiled. Her eyes softened. "You're so grown up," she said, pride and regret filling the simple statement. She opened the front door and left.

Buffy turned toward the living room and walked over to the table next to the couch. She picked up another photo of the three Summers women and studied it. It was a picture of her, Joyce and Dawn lying on Buffy's bed. Dawn's image also faded in and out in this photo. One minute, Buffy stared at hers and her mom's smiling faces, and in the next, Dawn's grin joined theirs.

Buffy set the photo down and turned toward the stairs. She walked up them slowly, staring at the door she saw at the top. She wasn't sure what she'd find in Dawn's room, but she was sure she wouldn't like it.

She swung the door inwards and entered the room cautiously. Her eyes bulged as she took in the shifting setting. One minute, Dawn's furniture and other things took up the space, but in the next minute, cardboard boxes and crates and boxes appeared. Dawn's things shifted in and out of reality as if her things weren't there at all.

Someone called her name, but it sounded as if she spoke through water. "Buffy? Buffy."

Buffy turned around. There was Dawn, standing with arms crossed just before the door. The Slayer's jaw dropped. Dawn was fading in and out, in and out, just like everything else related to her. She went from being solid to see-through to invisible and back again.

Dawn looked anxious. "Did the spell work? What did you find?"

Buffy's eyes hardened. There was only one conclusion she could come to. She glared. "You're not my sister."

*****

Dawn's brow furrowed. She shook her head. "What are you-"

Buffy lunged forward and grabbed Dawn's arms, pinning them to their sides. She knew whoever was posing as her sister could break out of her hold in a second, but the point was to intimidate, not to hurt.

Dawn was spooked. "What are you doing?"

"What are you?" Buffy demanded.

Her sister glared back. She had no idea what was going on, but she wasn't about to let Buffy manhandle her. "Let go of me, you freak. Now."

Buffy ignored the threat. "You want to hurt me? Then you deal with me."

Dawn shook her head. "You're crazy!" She shook off Buffy's hands, stepped back and settling into a fighting stance. Buffy did the same, tensing. Dawn tried to read her sister's face, but it was completely devoid of emotion. Dawn shook her head. "Buffy, what is this? What's going on? Is this because of the spell?"

Dawn blocked a punch and ducked a roundhouse kick. Buffy grabbed Dawn’s shoulders and punched her stomach, then slammed Dawn against the wall with enough force to crack the plaster.

Dawn stared into hardened eyes.

"Stay away from my mother," Buffy warned. She grabbed Dawn's arms, swung and tossed Dawn into the closest doors. The younger girl cried out as the doors snapped off their hinges, shattering into splinters on their way to the ground.

Dawn landed on the pile of splitters and winced as their sharp ends wedged themselves into her skin. She felt so afraid and confused. Normally, she would have held her own against Buffy, but there was nothing normal about this situation. She was pretty sure she was in shock.

"Why won't you talk to me?" she pleaded. "Why are you doing this? Something's attacking Mom, don't you remember? It's making Mom sick. We need to find out what. If the spell didn't work, we need to find something that does."

The phone rang, cutting through the silence.

"That's probably Giles. He may have something,” Dawn said.

She waited, desperate. She didn't want to hurt Buffy, although she wasn't sure if she could; when Buffy got this way, nothing stopped her.

Buffy's eyes flickered from her to the door. Finally, she turned and walked out of the room. Dawn heard her hurry down the stairs and pick up the phone in the living room.

Dawn struggled to remove herself from the pile and only succeeded after a few minutes. By the time she made it downstairs, Buffy was hanging up the phone.

"That was Giles, wasn't it?" she asked.

Buffy's tense back tensed even more before the Slayer turned to face her. Dawn tried not to let it show how much it hurt.

"What did he say?" Dawn asked.

Instead of answering, Buffy walked passed her and grabbed her coat. "I'm going out. I'll be back in an hour."

"Where are you going?"

Buffy ignored this question, also. "I'll be back before Mom gets back." Her warning was clear.

She opened the door and slammed it behind her.

Dawn hurried back upstairs to her room. She stepped over the wreckage and pulled a chest out from underneath her bed. She had a feeling she knew where Buffy was going, and she planned to be there whether Buffy liked it or not. Something was wrong. She wanted to know what.

She pulled a makeshift utility belt out of the chest and buckled it on. She slid a short sword into the scabbard on her left and stakes into the two holsters on the right. She'd take an alternate route to the warehouse district, one she didn’t think Buffy would be using. She didn't know which warehouse to go to, but she couldn't risk following Buffy directly. Her only option was to do a process of elimination. It wouldn't take long. Most of the warehouses were used and owned by a number of companies. She'd only need to check the small amount of them that were empty.

She left the house through the backyard, scaled the fence into the neighbor's yard and took off down the sidewalk.

*****

Dawn checked out three warehouses before she finally found what looked like the right one. A paved, fenced-in area surrounded the warehouse on all sides. The chain on the gate was broken, which had to mean that Buffy was inside.

Dawn entered the building and ran down the corridors. It wasn't long before she heard the sounds of what had to be an intense fight from somewhere on the second floor. She took the stairs three at a time and ran down the corridor. She turned a corner and almost stopped short. The wall at the end of the hall had been completely blasted to bits. A huge hole remained, surrounded by bits of plywood and ventilation. Just beyond the hole was a twisted piece of metal that had once been a door.

She heard a crash and hurried through the hole.

A beat-up man dressed in a brown robe sat tied to a chair across the room. The body of a security guard lay half-concealed behind a column near the far wall. Buffy was fighting a woman with curly-blonde hair who wore a red dress and high heels. There was a huge indention in the left-hand wall, and half of another column had been punched through, all victims of one painful fight.

Buffy didn't look so good. The woman in red kept laying more and more punches into her. Buffy tried her best to block and duck, but even as Dawn watched, the demon-woman grabbed Buffy by the neck and easily lifted the Slayer off her feet.

"Buffy!" Dawn charged. She collided with the dress-wearing woman as the woman turned. The impact caused her to stagger and drop Buffy.

Buffy fell to her knees, coughing and gasping.

Dawn hastily got to her feet and pulled out the sword. She got into a fighting position.

The woman glared at her, clearly annoyed. "Who the hell are you?"

"Stay away from her," Dawn answered.

A look of sudden understanding crossed her face. "Oh, are you two together?" She pointed from Dawn to Buffy. "That is so cute!" Then she charged.

Dawn swung the sword with as much force as she could. The woman blocked it with her arm. The blade broke into hundreds of shards with an ear-piercing creak, and pieces of metal flew everywhere.

Dawn turned her face away to avoid getting shrapnel in her eyes and didn’t see the woman aim a kick at her stomach. The next thing she knew, Dawn was sailing through the air, only to crash against the wall and fall down in a heap on the ground.

Everything in her ached. Nevertheless, Dawn struggled to stand.

Hands grabbed her arms. The grip was very strong. She looked up into the woman's face.

"You know what, I really don't appreciate any of this. I mean, here I am trying to get a good day's work in when you and your super-powered girlfriend come in uninvited. Doesn't that seem rude to you?"

Dawn's answer was to head-butt her. The woman's head soared back. Dawn got her arms free and punched her.

The woman stumbled back. A hand went up to her cheek. "Hey, that actually hurt," she commented, sounding surprised. She straightened. She looked furious. "You little bitch!"

When she got close enough, Dawn let loose with a kick. The woman caught her leg, but before she could tug on it, Dawn swung her other leg up and kicked her on the same side that she'd delivered the punch. Dawn spun, pulling her left leg free before she touched the ground again.

The woman looked furious. Faster than Dawn could follow, she grabbed Dawn's arms, spun and hurled her across the room. Dawn collided with the wall next to the dead guard.

"Dawn!" Buffy cried, all thoughts of her sister not being her sister gone from her mind. She ran over and helped Dawn get to her feet. "We need to get that monk and get out of here," she said.

Dawn nodded. "I'm okay."

They two of them ran over to the guard and started untying him. Then they draped his arms over their shoulders and headed for the window, the only exit in sight.

"Hey! Hands off my holy man!" The woman shouted from across the room.

They crashed through it, turning in the air so that their backs hit the ground.

The wind knocked out of Dawn from the impact. She sucked in a gulp of air and helped Buffy get the monk to his feet.

The monk cried out in pain when he tried to stand. Dawn looked him over. Bruises and cuts covered his face, and his robe was torn in several places. It wasn't from the fall; Buffy had shielded him from the worst of that.

"I cannot...please," he said between gasps. He had an accent.

"No. We have to keep going," Buffy said. "Dawn, can you carry him?"

"I think so," Dawn said, although she wasn't sure if she was strong enough after the beating she'd received.

She bent down to place her arm under his knees. The monk shook his head and she paused. "My journey's done, I think," he said once his breathing was back under control.

"Don't get metaphory on me," Buffy told him. "We're going." She tried to help him again to his feet, but he stopped her.

"You have to...the Key," he told her. "You must protect the Key."

Buffy nodded. "Fine. We can protect the Key together, okay, just far, far from here."

"Many more die if you don't keep it safe."

"How? What is it?" Dawn asked him.

The monk looked at her. For a moment, she wondered if he had heard her. Then he said, "The Key is energy. It's a portal. It opens the door..."

"The Dagon Sphere?" Buffy asked. Dawn looked at her. "It was the ball I found," Buffy explained.

"No," the monk answered. "For centuries it had no form at all. My brethren...its only keepers. Then the abomination found us. We had to hide the Key, gave it form, molded it flesh...made it human and sent it to you."

"Sent it as who?" Dawn asked. Her sister looked shocked. "Buffy?"

Buffy's gaze turned to her. "It's you..."

Dawn stared back. "What are you talking about?" Then she remembered the trance spell Buffy had performed and how she'd acted earlier. "Oh, God..."

The monk looked straight at Dawn. "You are the Key."

Dawn shook her head even as more memories of the week's events flashed through her mind. The Dagon Sphere had appeared green to her, and the crazy security guard had looked at her and seen green light instead of a half-human girl...

"We knew the Slayer would protect," he said.

"My memories... my mom's?" Buffy asked, still in shock.

"We built them."

"And mine," Dawn said. She wasn't real. She shook her head violently. "No. No. You're lying!"

He coughed uncontrollably.

"What am I?" Dawn asked, near to hysterics.

"Human...now human."

"Then if I'm human now, how come I'm stronger and faster than everyone?" she demanded, defiantly. Anything to prove that he was wrong.

"We used...DNA from the mother of the Slayer and the man she slept with fifteen years ago. We did not know who he was."

Dawn stared blankly at him, not really listening as he looked back at Buffy again.

"Please...you must protect. She is an innocent in this..." He looked away from both of them and let out a breath. He was dead.

The eyes she stared into weren’t moving, weren’t blinking, weren’t anything.

Dawn stood and took off, leaving Buffy kneeling beside the dead monk, looking at nothing.

THE END