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sorry it's a few minute's late...hope everyone in the US is enjoying the holiday weekend :) and everyone else is just enjoying the weekend
Chapter 43


“My God, you’re dying.”

Spike had never wanted to throttle someone as much as he wanted to throttle Rupert Giles at that moment.

“Gee,” Buffy said, “thanks for the optimism.”

“But Buffy,” Willow began, “your voice is all weak and…and you have these big dark circles under your eyes and…you’re so skinny!”

While Spike wasn’t sure that ‘skinny’ was quite the appropriate word, he did have to agree with Red’s assessment; though he and Dawn had gotten used to hearing Buffy speak so softly, it was true that her voice was weaker—and of course she looked horrendously tired, she was.

“And you what?” Spike wondered, “Thought she was in the hospital just for shits and giggles? Thought you knew the girl well enough to know how she feels about hospitals.”

“I also thought I knew my Slayer well enough to know that she wouldn’t be foolish enough to allow William the Bloody into her life in such a way.”

“’Cause that was just plain classy, Rupes; classy,” Spike muttered, not really caring who heard him.

“You know,” Dawn said, speaking up for the first time during their visit, “I think you guys have been here long enough; you’ve seen Buffy and that was really the point after all. You could probably leave now.”

“I agree,” Anya said quickly. “You have seen Buffy—you should go home now and reflect.”

“Reflect on what?” Xander asked.

“Xander Harris I am finished giving you answers to obvious things.”

“I believe it is rather up to Buffy to tell us to leave,” Giles said rather icily.

“Actually,” Buffy said, surprising the man who was staring at her so expectantly as well as the two people who had accompanied him there, “if Dawn doesn’t want you here, I think—“

“Ms. Summers? Mr. Pratt?” a man questioned from the doorway. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” he apologized quickly.

“You’re not really interrupting anything,” Buffy assured him.

“Who are you?” Xander asked, this time doing his own job of forgetting about tact.

“I am Reginald Kayne, Mrs. Summers’ attorney,” he formally introduced himself to the assembled group.

“I didn’t have our appointment time wrong, did I?” Spike wondered. “I thought it wasn’t until two.”

“No, no, you had it correct. A client of mine had his surgery time changed and needed me earlier than expected so everything has been bumped up if possible—I tried calling you at home to inform you but no one was there.”

“Listen here sir,” Giles began, “I don’t know what this ‘man’ has told you but if you’re here to discuss anything about Joyce Summers you should really speak with Buffy and myself.”

“And you are?”

“Rupert Giles.”

“Well, Mr. Giles, Mrs. Summers herself asked that I discuss this with Ms. Summers and Mr. Pratt; you are welcome to listen in as she did not stipulate anything against that, but that is all.”

“I am going to find out what you did,” he threatened Spike in what he assumed was a terrifying manner. “I will find out and I will make you regret it. You are going to be sorry.”

“Whatever you say Watcher boy. Excuse him Mr. Kayne, he’s just having a hard time with the situation.”

“It’s quite alright,” the attorney assured him, “I deal with it quite often. I do hope it’s not a problem, my coming early.”

“Not at all; you were going to tell us what my mother has written in her will?” Buffy prompted.

“Yes, yes. I’m only sorry your mother isn’t well enough to join us today.”

“Where is your mother? Does she even know you’re doing this? That Spike is involved?”

“No Giles,” Buffy answered sarcastically, “we got her lawyer to do this without any say so from her; we thought doing it behind her back would be more fun. And not that it’s actually any of your information, but she’s at home.”

“Is she not well?”

“Did you miss the whole ‘brain tumor’ thing?” Dawn snapped.

“I had assumed that the hospital would not have sent her home if she were not—“

“You know what you do when you assume, don’t you Rupes? They let her home because she’s better--it’s not just ‘snap’ you’re well again; it takes time.”

“Well, I as—know that once she has come back to her senses she will surely not allow this…creature such free access to your lives. Clearly you are not functioning at full capacity, Buffy—surely you must see that—“

“Quit telling my sister she’s stupid. And quit calling Spike a creature. Either shut up or go home,” Dawn ordered, not caring if her words were going to get her in trouble.

“If we could,” the lawyer jumped in when everyone was silent for several seconds—not only because he was in fact under a time constraint, but also Mr. Pratt had impressed him as a very caring person.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Giles agreed. “Let’s hear this—perhaps it will get Buffy to see reason.”

Buffy, Spike, Dawn, Anya, Xander, and Willow had to bite their tongues from saying anything in reply—the last two for an entirely different reason than the others, though.

“May I?” Mr. Kayne set his folder on the table next to Buffy’s bed before looking at the files still in his hands. “As to her share in the ownership of the gallery, upon incident of Mrs. Summers’ death or incapacitation, it will go to the eldest of her daughters to either be retained or sold for the purchase price plus five percent for every year the establishment made money.

“Now, as for the custody of her youngest daughter Dawn: She now has sole custody of the child and receives both alimony and child support from her ex-husband. Upon her death, the child support will be doubled and the alimony continued, both until Dawn’s twenty-first birthday. Custody of Dawn as well as payment of the monies will go jointly to Buffy Summers and William Pratt—“

“Bloody hell!”

“Seriously?”

“Cool!”

“What?!”

“Buggering—“ Came from Giles, Buffy, Dawn, Willow, and Spike respectively, a loud laugh all that Xander managed—while Anya just looked to be taking it all in and considering everything.

“I take it that was unexpected,” the attorney joked.

“Alright, where’s her real lawyer?” Willow asked, looking at the man dubiously.

“Yes, I dare say, I rather agree.”

“I assure you both, I am in fact Mrs. Summers’ attorney. Both hers and the gallery’s.”

“Very good Spike,” Giles congratulated Spike on what he refused to believe was anything other than an elaborate hoax. “Please, sir, do continue on,” he waved his hand somewhat dismissively at Mr. Kayne.

“As I was saying, Mr. Pratt and Ms. Buffy Summers will be granted joint custody of the child. Should either of them die before the child’s eighteenth birthday,” he paused for a second, “full custody will go to the other.”

“Spike, if you’re going to try to trick us—don’t go so far. No way are any of us going to believe Mrs. Summers would give you full custody of Dawn,” Xander chided, his earlier mirth now gone and replaced with anger.

“I told you, you gits, I didn’t have anything to do with this. It’s Joyce’s will—it’s what she wants.”

“I assure you that prior to his call earlier this week I had never spoken to or seen Mr. Pratt. And I am most definitely a real lawyer,” he pulled out his Bar Association card. “This is Joyce Summers living will.”

Giles had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that the man was in fact telling the truth. The truth that didn’t involve Joyce giving him custody of Dawn—at all.

“Has she changed it recently?”

“A little over a month ago I believe,” he said and then found the exact date for them.

When Giles realized that was before Joyce had gone into the hospital but after Buffy had gotten sick, he only had one more questioned. “Did she change anything as to Dawn’s custody if she died?”

“She added Mr. Pratt—it seems with her daughter’s illness she wanted to cover all bases and make sure that if for whatever reason it was decided Buffy was not able to take care of the child on her own, that not just anyone would share in the care.”

So, it had never been him. Rupert wondered if he would have been better off never knowing that.

“I guess we had better hear the rest,” he admitted solemnly.

Ordinarily Buffy would have felt sorry for Giles—she knew what he had just realized; but at the moment she couldn’t imagine him ever having any sort of custody of Dawn. She was, actually, afraid to think of what he would do if he did.

“Ownership of the home at 1630 Revello Drive Sunnydale, California will also transfer to Buffy Summers and William Pratt, the mortgage to be paid off either by one or the both of them or by Mrs. Summers’ stock portfolio.”

“That’s a very wise choice your mother made,” Anya told Buffy. “Stocks are often good for long term investment—and for paying things due over long periods of time.”

“There are just a few more things. Just a few small personal possessions, the distribution of which Mrs. Summers would like to determine. She asks that—would you like me to read all of this or would you like to read over it at your own leisure? It’s really just a long list of little things and who she’d like to see them go to.”

“I think we can look at that later—the rest is a lot for us to think about anyway.”

“Yes, I would guess it must be. Is there anything I can answer for you? Anything you need clarified?”

After a quick look at Buffy, Dawn, and Anya, Spike answered, “I think we’re good for now; thank you for taking the time to come by.”

“Of course; if there are any problems or anything you think of, just give me a call and I’ll do my best to help.”

“Thank you,” Buffy offered another thank you as he left the room.



“Tell me truly,” Giles requested, “was that your mother’s lawyer?”

“Yes,” Buffy answered as calmly as she could. “Neither Spike nor I had any say in my mother’s will either; this was the first time we heard any of it.”

“Very well. And you have no problem with any of it, it would seem.”

“No, I really don’t,” Buffy answered.

“And you, Dawn?”

“Are you kidding? I think it’s great.”

“Spike?”

“Yes?” Spike was not going to make this easy on Rupert Giles.

“How do you feel about everything?”

“Bit overwhelmed, actually,” he admitted. “But there’s no part of it I object to.”

“Well…I guess there’s no point in me staying here any longer then. It’s clear I’m not going to get through to any of you any time soon.”

“I go where G-Man goes today, it seems,” Xander said resignedly.

“Buffy,” Willow sounded sad, “are you…can’t you—I’m sorry.” She walked out the door without a backwards glance.

“I hope you don’t experience too much pain,” Giles added before walking out with Xander just a few seconds later.

The room was silent for over a minute until Anya broke the uncomfortable silence. “Do you know what stocks your mother owns? I’m interested in investing myself.”


TBC….





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