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“Buffy!” The man said cheerfully, acting as if nothing was wrong.

Spike, with a bewildered expression, turned to see the emotions playing across Buffy’s face, but he kept quiet.

As Buffy took a deep breath, she approached the man a little more. “Hey, Dad,” she said quietly, trying not to show how much she didn’t want him there.

“Oh, Buffy…it’s been so long.” With that he brought his daughter in for a tight hug that she didn’t return.

Buffy’s confusion and shyness was now replaced by anger and annoyance. “Gee, I wonder how many people have to say that to their daughters.”

“Buffy…you know I have to work.”

“Hmm…and how much does ‘working’ other secretaries pay now?”

“Buffy Anne Summers!”

“Oh, please. It’s only a warning when parents say their child’s full name.”

Hank had a mixture of hurt and anger on his face.

Spike was just staring wide-eyed at Buffy, wondering where the timid, broken girl from before had gone.

“Buffy…I came here to see how your living arrangements were. I know Darla and Angel aren’t the best guardians…but they treat you well, right?”

Buffy, instead of lying, answered his question with a question. “Why do you care?”

“I care.”

“You mean like you cared the time you walked out on Mom, Dawn and me?”

“We were getting a divorce, Buffy! I had to ‘walk out’!”

“Most parents who get divorces still find time to care for their kid.”

“I care!”

“Then why weren’t you at the funeral, Hank!?” Buffy’s face was now slightly tear-streaked. “Mom and Dawnie are dead! Where were you?! Don’t you dare tell me you loved Dawn or me. You don’t even know me anymore!”

Hank’s look hardened a little. “When will Angel and Darla be home?” He asked with a low voice.

“Whenever they get done drinking I suppose. But then they’ll want to give me my daily lecture. But they don’t like people to be around to watch that, so maybe you should come back around never.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Spike chose now to cut in. “It means she gets ab-” Buffy’s hand quickly clamped over Spike’s mouth.

“Nothing, Dad. It’s not like you’d care. I need to get inside before they get home.”

Without thinking, Buffy took Spike’s hand and led him in the house and up the stairs to her room. “Sorry ‘bout the mess. Don’t really ever have time to clean up. Ya know, with me always being in a rush to get out and whatnot.”

“Buffy…you could’ve told him.”

“Did you just sleep for the past ten minutes, or did you hear how much we hate each other?”

Defeated, Spike let out a sigh and sat on the edge of her bed. When he looked around the room, his concern grew a little. There were three identical pill bottles of something lying on the dresser, and there were four large knives on her vanity. “Buffy?”

Buffy had been straightening up a little, but now she turned to Spike. “Yes?”

“Want to explain?” He gestured toward the items in question and waited for reply.

“The knives? When Angel’s really wasted he ends up doing stupid things, so I took the really pointy items and put them out of his reach.”

“Uh huh. And the pills?”

“Painkillers.”

“Right, I get that. Why do you have three bottles of painkillers?”

“In case I run out…” She replied weakly, not making eye contact.

“And you realize I don’t believe that for a second?”

Sighing, Buffy sat down beside him, not looking up. “After the first time he left bruises on me…I brought three bottles in here, planning on…” She trailed off, hoping Spike knew what she meant.

“So, if you were planning on killing yourself,” he started bluntly, “then why are they still in here?”

“In case I ever decide I want to do it again,” she replied, a little self-resentment apparent in her voice.

He looked completely shocked for a moment, and then angry. After opening and closing his mouth a few times, Spike got up from the bed, taking the pill bottles with him. He then went into the adjoining bathroom and went through the medicine cabinet. When he came back, he had an armful of all different kinds of medicine. “Give me something to put these in.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m taking them with me,” he said a little coldly.

“You can’t do that! What if I need them!?”

“After your little admission over there…you can deal with it. Give me a bag.”

With a pout, Buffy gave him a plastic bag and he put all the bottles in there. Closing it up, he set the bag down so he wouldn’t forget it. “I don’t want to ever hear you say something like that again.”

“It’s not even like I really meant it.”

“Then don’t. Say. It.”

Nodding, Buffy sat down on the bed and looked at her clock. “My aunt and uncle’ll be home soon. You should go. Probably should sneak out the window to avoid a confrontation with my dad downstairs.”

---Next day---

Buffy slid the sweatshirt over her head and quietly walked out her bedroom door. On the way down the stairs, she was met with her father. “Morning, Buffy.”

“Morning, Hank.”

Angel, Darla, and Hank had had a conversation the night before, discussing everything except Buffy. Angel had offered Hank a room to stay in for the night, since Hank was his only brother.

Buffy didn’t even look back up at her father as she made her way to school.

---Later---

Things were going better than expected. Buffy hadn’t had any negative confrontations from any of the ‘popular’ teens, so she was doing alright.

But the lunch bell had just sounded so now she was walking through the double doors of the cafeteria. What she saw made her stop dead in her tracks.

Logan Matthews.

Part of the reason she could hardly stand to be alive.

He was a student in LA, but for some reason, he was now here.

And he was talking to Spike and his friends. Buffy could feel her fists clenching at her sides.

Before she had time to process her own thoughts, she had walked up and punched Logan from the side with every bit of strength she had, sending him to the floor.

The entire cafeteria became silent as they watched the small blond girl continue to get angry. When Logan looked up and saw who it was, his eyes widened and he quickly stood up. “Bitch.”

Spike just watched, not knowing what was going on, but ready to jump in if needed.

Logan threw his own punch, which Buffy managed to block, only to be hit by his other fist.

It only took a second for her to backhand him hard enough for him to go to the ground again. “I’m a bitch?” Pinning him down, Buffy punched him a few more times, making him too stunned to respond.

Finally, someone went to pull Buffy off, and she slung her fist back, hitting the teacher in the nose.

Now anyone was too scared to step in. “I. Hate. You!”

Logan caught her hands and pushed her off of him. “Yeah, and I hate you!”

“I didn’t ruin your life!”

“It wasn’t even my fault, Summers!”
This earned another punch into his jaw. “It wasn’t your fault?” She asked in a scratchy voice.

Logan smirked and leaned in a little. “I wasn’t the one driving the car.”

Before she could think, Logan had hit her once more, sending her back some.

Spike finally regained control over his thoughts and leaped from his chair. Pushing Logan away, deciding it was best to not keep this going, he just went over to Buffy. “Are you okay?”

“What the hell does it look like?” She asked coldly. But when she looked at him, her false facade began to die and a tear slid down her cheek.

Spike looked back at his friends who only looked confused, not angry, and then turned to Buffy.

“Come on, luv.” He led her out of the cafeteria and toward the library. “It’s about time you talked to him, pet.”


---An hour later---

Buffy walked out of the school, having just told Giles everything. She even told him details about LA that she hadn’t told anyone yet. He told her that he would be forced to let officials know if he found her with any more bruises.

“Hey, B. Took ya long enough. Get suspended?” Faith asked from the steps of the school.

“Hey, Faith. I think I might’ve. I haven’t heard yet. Guess I’ll find out.”

“Well you slugged the teacher pretty good. I’d say that gets you at least 3-5 stay-home days.”

Buffy smiled and walked toward Faith. “Come on, my car’s over here. We’ll head to my house then hit the Bronze.”





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