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Chapter 3


“A job,” Buffy repeated. “But what about school? And Dawn? And my chores?”

Hank stared down at his eldest daughter with a look that instantly had her regretting her impromptu line of questioning. If there was one thing Hank Summers did not abide, it was anyone questioning his judgment.

“I don’t think I like your tone of voice young lady,” he said through clenched teeth. “Now, I suggest you apologize for your error before I decide to get angry.”

“Sorry,” Buffy whispered out just before she suddenly found herself sprawled on the floor. Hank’s slap had caught her unprepared and sent her reeling before she realized it had even happened.

“Don’t *lie* to me,” her father said, standing over her An accusatory finger was pointing at her and his breath was coming in angry gasps. “You think you can just lie to me and get away with it?” Hank brought up a hand and rubbed his forehead in a clear show of annoyance. “I know you’re about as sorry as you are smart, Buffy. But, you’re damn lucky I’ve been so patient with you these last ten years. Do you think anyone else would have been as patient with you? Hell no! Now, get up and try to pay attention to me for half a minute,” he finished.

Buffy stood, careful to avoid looking at her father. Eye contact seemed to upset him more when he was like this. If she just kept her head down and stayed quiet, there was a chance he would calm down a little. The submissive stance was one she was well familiar with by now. She just had to keep doing this a few more years until she got out of the house, and then everything would be ok. She could actually live. See something besides the tops of her shoes.

She didn’t have to avoid eye contact with her friends. Sure, she only had a couple of them. There was a quiet little shy girl named Willow and a goofy kid named Xander, and there were also Angel and William from next door. They were all better friends than she could ever have hoped for.

Most other kids would studiously avoid her once they found out who she was. Everyone seemed to know who she was, even if they didn’t know at first that she was one of *the* Summers girls. After they found out, all she would get were sideways glances and piteous looks. She didn’t need those. She was going to get away from her father one day and take Dawn with her. That was the only reason she stayed now. As long as she was there, Dawn was safe. No, she didn’t need their pity or their sadness. She would emerge victorious. Someday.

The next slap only sent her stumbling sideways just a little. She shouldn’t have let her mind wander. That was a really stupid thing to do when dad was talking.

“See! You can’t even focus for two seconds!” Hank shouted at her, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I’ll make it really simple, Buffy. I’ll write down exactly what you’re supposed to do each day. Even you should be able to follow a simple list. You follow the list, everything will be fine. You don’t follow the list, you’ll see what my temper is *really* like, understand?”

Buffy simply nodded her agreement.

“Good,” he said. “Now, it took me a long time and a lot of work to get someone to agree to hire you. If you do one thing, and I mean one *single* thing, to screw this up, you may not live to regret it. Am I clear?”

Buffy forgot her own rule of keeping her head down, as she stared with trepidation at her father. He was truly a scary man in his own right, but he’d never really done anything more that smack her around and scream at her. Most of her more serious injuries had even been accidents on his part. Things that had happened as she fell or ran into things. And she didn’t believe most of what he said anymore, but if his face were any indication, his latest threat seemed very genuine.

“AM I CLEAR?” he shouted, drawing his hand back to deal another slap.

Buffy flinched and shrank away from her father, but she quickly indicated her understanding with a nod as she returned her gaze to the floor.

“Good,” he began. “Now, Mr. Buchanan expects you at the shop by four o’clock every afternoon. You *will* be there, and you *will not* mess this up,” he finished. “Now, get started on the dishes. This place looks like a pig sty.” Without further preamble, he picked his jacket up off the hook in the hallway and made his way out the door.

**********

Spike had almost flipped his lid when he found out about the job. He all but begged her not to do it. Even offered to give her money instead. He’d said he could get money if they needed it that bad. When she refused, telling him her dad would know and that he’d worked really hard to get her this job, Spike stormed away mumbling words she didn’t know the meaning of, though she was pretty sure they belonged in the cursing category.

Buffy had been working at the repair shop for a few weeks now. It really wasn’t a bad job, all she had to do was answer phones and balance the books every evening. He was offering to pay really well, though she doubted she would actually see any of it. Dad said she needed to start paying for her "maintainance".

Mr. Buchanan had been really nice, too. Buffy couldn’t remember the last time an adult had been so nice to her. The little shop had a front office area that she stayed in, and a large back area away from view where all the repairs were done. It was really cluttered back there, but he seemed to know where everything was.

But today, Mr. Buchanan had spent much of the afternoon in the front of the shop. Requesting to review old receipts, and asking her to show him last weeks summary. She almost didn’t notice when his hand gently closed on her shoulder as he reached across to pick up a pen and note something on the sheet.

The next few days passed without incident. The old man began showing her around the shop, teaching her various tools and their uses. It was all kind of interesting actually. She didn’t really have much of a mechanical nature, but it wasn’t too difficult to learn.

However, today had been one really long afternoon. Buffy really hated Tuesdays. Nothing ever happened on Tuesdays. No one ever came in the shop, and the time seemed to grind to a halt.

“Buffy,” she heard him call her name.

“Yes sir?” she answered.

“Can you come here for a second?” Mr. Buchanan requested.

Buffy got up and made her way back to the bench at the back of the workshop. He looked up at her and smiled. He had a really warm smile, and he used it a lot. “Can I do something for you?” she asked, when no further request seemed forthcoming from him.

“Have a seat,” he said as he vacated his work bench.

Buffy stared confusedly for a moment.

“It’s ok, the chair won’t bite,” he smiled.

Buffy hesitantly took the proffered seat, glancing at each of the tools and parts scattered around the bench. She was actually beginning to remember their purposes now. His cool hands on her shoulders startled her for a moment, causing her to jump a little. He laughed, then requested she tell him what was wrong with the small piece of equipment sitting in front of her. She picked up one part, and thoughtfully examined it. As she did so, his hand began to rub her shoulders in small circles. Buffy dropped the hunk of metal, and tried to rise from the seat. This didn’t feel right at all. However, his firm grip on her shoulders prevented her from moving.

“Mr. Buchanan, please let me go,” Buffy requested firmly. She pushed against the workbench with her hands, and again tried to maneuver out of his grip.

“No, I’m quite comfortable with you where you are,” he replied.

“Well, I’m not!” she shouted, as she managed to free herself and put several feet of distance between them.

“Oh, I beg to differ,” he said, his small smile covering his face again. Buffy didn’t think it looked warm any more. “I think you were very comfortable.” His smile now seemed to take on a smirk quality as he stepped towards her.

“No!” Buffy shouted. “You come any closer and I’ll leave. In fact, I quit!”

The man paused and seemed to consider her words a moment. He rubbed his chin a couple of times before finally putting his hands into his pockets.

“Ok. That’s your choice. I’ll just let your father know how much trouble you’ve been, and how hard it’s been for me to keep you on all this time.” The lie seemed to easily roll off his tongue as if well practiced.

“You can’t say that! I haven’t done anything wrong!” Buffy exclaimed.

“No, just running off all my customers. Running my business into the ground. I’d even wager you were skimming money from the drawer,” he answered coolly. “Yeah, your dad warned me about you. Too bad I have to tell him he was right. I’m sure he’s going to miss all the money you could have made for him. Gotta keep all those pretty little secretaries happy now, doesn’t he?”

Her father’s words started replaying in her head. Would he make good on his threat? Surely not. He wouldn’t go that far...... would he? Her eyes closed in resignation. She just couldn’t be sure. Her life may not be worth anything to anyone else, but it was still valuable to her. And Dawn. She had to be around to take care of Dawn.

The old man grinned maliciously at her. He had her, and he knew it.

“See you tomorrow at four,” he said, turning back and taking his seat at the bench.

Buffy ran from the shop as fast as her legs would take her.

The next day, Buffy showed up for work at 4:01. He was standing at the counter. His arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes seemed to sparkle when she walked in.

**********

Angel decided he had stayed away from the shop long enough. When Spike informed him of where Hank had insisted Buffy would be working, it had taken both Spike and his dad to keep him from marching next door and pummeling the crap out of Buffy’s father. Everyone in town knew of old man Buchanan’s preference for young girls. He couldn’t keep his hands off them, and he’d pretty much exhausted his supply in the small town. It was bad enough Buffy’s father abused her, now he was practically pimping her.

His friends had all urged him to give up on trying to help Buffy. Everyone in town had tried in the ten years since her mother’s death, but no one had been able to. Hank had all the important people in his pocket. Angel had even tried convincing her to just run away with him. Buffy simply smiled and asked just how exactly a fifteen year old and a seventeen year old with no skills were going to live. And since she also refused to do anything unless she could take Dawn with her, she was certain the police would hunt them down if they left and Angel would go to jail.

Angel moved from his thoughts as he strolled up to the repair shop. At a loss for what else to do, he and Spike came to an agreement the day before that they would stop by the shop every day. If the owner knew someone was checking up on her, maybe he wouldn’t be eager to try anything. He reached for the door handle, and found it locked. It seemed a little odd to Angel for the shop to be closed at 4:30 in the afternoon. He glanced through the window, but didn’t see Buffy or anyone else at the front desk.

After peering through the glass for several seconds, he heard Buffy’s distinct voice shouting from somewhere inside. Quickly remembering the back door he passed, Angel sprinted around the building. He pulled open the door to find Mr. Buchanan had Buffy locked in his arms. She was screaming for him to let her go. Rage like he had never felt before boiled up inside him, and the world slipped into a red haze.

He grabbed the old man by the back of his head and got an arm in between him and Buffy. He pulled the arms from around her, and shoved him hard against the closest wall, then began pummeling him. Even though he was only seventeen, Angel was no small boy. He was well built, and physically imposing. The older man had been caught off guard, and found he was unable to protect himself from the beating Angel was issuing.

When the shop owner finally slumped to the ground, Angel abandoned him and turned his attention to Buffy. She appeared to be unharmed, though greatly disheveled. Grimy hand prints covered her shirt. She was sobbing uncontrollably, and Angel couldn’t even get a proper response from her. He scooped her up in his arms and cradled her against his chest. As he made his way to the door, he paused long enough to give the slimy guy a hard kick to his ribs.

“You touch her again you freaking bastard and I’ll be the last thing you see before you die,” he bit out.

**********

Angel brought her home, cleaned her up, and tried to get her to leave once more. She refused him, yet again. He just didn’t seem to understand that as long as Dawn was home and had to live with her dad, Buffy couldn’t go anywhere. She just couldn’t abandon Dawn like that. She had done her best to make sure that the nightmare they lived, wasn’t as nightmarish for Dawn. Her little sister was the only thing left of her mother in this world, and she would die to protect her if she had to.

Buffy was really glad Angel had showed up when he did, but she pushed him out the door to her house as soon as she was semi-coherent. Her dad would be home soon, and finding Angel consoling her would not bode well. She wanted to make everything appear as it usually did. Maybe she could buy a day or two to come up with something. Hopefully Mr. Buchanan would be too embarrassed at the beating he’d received to tell her dad about it right away. She had no doubt that he would find out, and Mr. Buchanan would surely somehow make it all out to be her fault.

She had been wrong.

It didn’t take a couple of days....

**********

Giles approached the gathered group standing outside the hospital room. They all knew this day would come. That one day the cry of the ambulance would be for one of the Sunners girls. They just didn’t know when it would be. He fished his handkerchief from his pocket to clean his glasses. He always thought that maybe just one more time would help to finally see everything clearly and understand.

“The officer said that Mr. Buchanan has reported that he was struck by a motorist who failed to stop. Hank has given a statement that when he came home, he found Buffy at the bottom of the basement stairs unconscious,” he informed the tired looking assemblage.

They stood staring through the glass into the room. Angel was inside, his elbows propping his head up as he leaned against the bed that contained a very bruised and bandaged Buffy who was sleeping at the moment.

“As for Buffy, she seems to have corroborated Hank’s story, telling them she was retrieving laundry when she slipped and fell. As usual Dawn didn’t see or hear anything, since she was in her room upstairs at the time.”

William, or Spike as he now insisted on being called, let out a fierce growl as he grabbed a nearby chair and gave it a toss, he then kicked another chair across the waiting area just outside the room before he finally sank into a final chair, his hands threading through his newly bleached hair, displaying his complete frustration.

“One of these days that man is going to die a horrible death, and I don’t think anyone will care,” Xander said coldly.

“Xander...” Willow whispered, though it didn’t have the reproach it she thought she should have given it.

“I should kill him myself,” Giles mumbled quietly.

“So, what do we do now?” Willow asked hesitantly. “How can we help her?”

“I don’t know Willow,” Jenny answered. “I just don’t know.”

**********

”You would think that all of you demons would figure out that this is *my* town.” Buffy said as a round house connected with the creature’s jaw. “But then again, you vamps aren’t the brightest bulbs in the box, are you?” A sharp right brought a satisfying crunch with it.

“Yeah, well, word is that you don’t tend to do much fighting back blondie,” the vampire taunted, as his own foot connected with Buffy’s knee. The blow sent her off balance for moment, but she recovered quickly. “I heard you’re like an old Timex. ‘Takes a licking and keeps on ticking’,” the vamp smirked, the licked his lips suggestively.

“Well, at least I’m still ticking. Which is a lot more than I can say for you. I mean, who the heck would sire an old geezer like you anyway?” Buffy retorted. A back handspring brought her feet into contact with the vampire’s jaw, sending him crashing backwards into a tree.

“Oh, there’s lots of demons like me out there,” he answered, deflecting her blows and throwing his right fist at her. “You just don’t recognize most of them.”

“And I’m not big on learning to recognize *you* either,” she replied, as she grabbed his hand and spun around, the move twisting his arm behind him. “Now, say goodnight Gracie,” Buffy instructed as she drove her stake home through his chest. The vampire looked at the girl in stunned silence, before erupting in a cloud of dust.

Buffy heard a scream sound behind her, and turned around just in time to see another vampire explode. Standing behind the vanishing cloud was Angel. His hand was outstretched and holding a stake.

“Thanks,” she smiled. “It’s nice to have help sometimes.”

“All you have to do is ask,” he replied. “You know, it doesn’t hurt to have help....even if you are The Slayer.”

“Maybe one day the demons will quit coming and I won’t have to be,” she replied sadly.







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