Comes Back To Bite You

Chapter Four: Comes Back to Bite You

By Drix
Disclaimer: I do not own anything; property belongs to Joss Whedon and Laurell K. Hamilton.
Pairings: Dawn of course, but, it’s a secret. Read and find out.
Timeline: About three years after S7 of Buffy. The Harlequin for Anita Blake.
Special thanks to amusewithaview, who has been my beta and soundboard for this fic. I’m truly grateful that she puts up with my insanity. An extra special thanks to everyone who reviewed.

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Later, in the car, it hit Dawn like a ton of bricks. She was going to be giving up her peaceful St. Louis life in about half an hour, and all because of her sister. Perhaps Buffy hadn’t come out and told her to go play nice with the Master of the City, but indirectly, it was all her fault. That was Dawn’s story and she was sticking to it.

Giles was asking her to give up her chance at anonymity for the sake of a little power. Because really, how powerful could Jean-Claude be? For the last two years, she had been hiding out here, attempting to experience some semblance of normal life, and with one phone call, they had washed that away in the tide of their battle against evil.

She knew that Anita was Jean-Claude’s human servant. The information hadn’t been easy to attain, the “other” community here was very close-lipped about her, but she had attained it nonetheless. Two years spent avoiding that woman, and now she was about to tell the Executioner one of her most guarded secrets: the Council.

She would never be able to live quietly now. The woman had a reputation of not giving up on someone’s secrets, whether they be friend or enemy. And Anita was really going to turn sideways when Dawn revealed that there was a huge corporation out there with a standing mission to destroy evil that she couldn’t possibly have heard about.

The Council really had remained anonymous, even to most of the supernatural world. They had dealt mainly with the ruling members of the Vampire Council and the few people that the vampires trusted with the knowledge of the awakening Dark Mother.

For anything other than that, they used one of the front companies, attempting to bring order to the chaos of the supernatural world. They sent out slayers to countries near and far and gave them strict military training, modified for the use of a Slayer. Vampires were still illegal in most countries, so they never got any slack for hunting them, but they still only went after the evil ones. Sent out in groups or individually, they all had Watchers, men and women there to help them rein in the approaching darkness. Their standing mission to seek out all evil and destroy it.

Andrew had even written it out once, he called it “Mission One”. It was pretty much a long sheet of paper quoting some of the Scoobies and generally giving an outline for the Slayers to live and work by. Dawn had always thought it sounded too Star Trek, she laughed every time she saw it.

With the thought of Anita Blake brought a picture of Micah into her head, and for a moment, all brain function ceased. She knew that Micah was the leader of the local wereleopards, and that he had a connection to Anita. It was a distinct possibility that with the loss of her peaceful life here, she would lose a valued friend in Micah. Hell, he might even be at the meeting.

Dawn frowned at that and made a conscious effort to keep the tears from welling in her eyes. She wouldn’t let these people see her fall apart, she would remain strong and untouchable, being a department head for the Council it was what was expected her.

She had been so surprised when Buffy and Giles had awarded her the title of department head of the moldy books. She knew that she was a better translator than everyone except for Giles, languages just came naturally to her, but for them to have trusted her that much was a stretch. For weeks after her appointment she had watched Buffy carefully for any sign that the Slayer was regretting her discussion or turning into “Overprotective Freak Sister”. But the change had never come. Buffy had finally let her have some space and allowed her to grow up a little.

Of course, Dawn attributed this small concession to Giles’ and Spikes’ influences. But give her and inch and she’ll take a mile, so Dawn had asked Giles if she could leave her studies program at Oxford and join the languages department at Wash U. At the time she had been twenty-one and had just graduated from Oxford, having attended since the age of seventeen, and had earned several degrees in her field of study, mostly languages, archeology, and anthropology.

It had taken her six months, and well past her twenty-second birthday to convince him, not even to mention the constant fighting with Buffy and surprisingly Spike, who hadn’t wanted her to move so far away where they couldn’t safeguard her. But aside from her protection, they could form no logical argument that she couldn’t just as quickly shoot down to convince her to stay.

So to St. Louis she had come, and here she had stayed with her quiet, peaceful life. Occasionally taking care of the odd slayer until Buffy had posted Rona here. Dawn should have seen it then, the beginning of the end. Honestly, she was used to it now, but it still rubbed her the wrong way that her life was always dictated by people she loved attempting to do what they thought was best for her. It would serve them right if she never came back to London, she could certainly do without the rain. Maybe she would go to Cleveland and live with Connor and Dana for a few months until Anita’s inevitable rage died down.

But for all of Buffy’s faults, Dawn missed her sister so much it was like a physical ache in her heart where Buffy should have resided. She talked with her on the phone often enough and the emailed almost daily, but it didn’t compare to seeing her in the flesh. Smelling the perfume and shampoo Buffy used and the feel of her leather jacket, whichever she had chosen to wear at the time, crushed against Dawn’s arms as the slayer hugged her so tightly she couldn’t breathe for a few seconds.

At times like this, when she felt her world coming undone, she wished she was one of those people who could let her sister run her life, keep her locked up in a tower and safe from all that tried to hurt her. But then she’d give herself a mental slap and come out of her funk. She still told Buffy everything that was important, which was probably why she hadn’t mentioned the Knights of Byzantium to Giles, it seemed like a sin to sisterhood to tell him her fears before she told Buffy, and honestly she wanted to get through this night without more complications. Knowing Buffy, the moment she heard about the crazy, sword-toting, religious zealots, Dawn would be on a one-way flight back to London and under guard within hours.

Dawn was brought from her thoughts when she felt the car turn off. She and Rona got out of the car silently and made their way in to La Julienne.

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Giles hung up the phone and sank into his office chair. He really hated to do this to her, but he felt it was time. No doubt Buffy would be ranting for days once she heard, but that was neither here nor there, this was about Dawn and her future. Although, he really wasn’t looking forward to the ranting. Maybe now was a good time to take Olivia up on her vacation plans, Alaska was supposed to be quite nice this time of year.

“Don’t even think about it Watcher.”

Giles started in his chair, but was relieved to know that it was only Spike. Funny that, a handful of years previous and he would have been happy to put a stake through the vampire’s heart, now he couldn’t imagine having him around.

After the apocalyptic battle against the forces of Wolfram and Hart, of which the slayers had saved Angel’s teams collective asses, Spike, Angel and the other champions had joined the New Council of Watchers and Slayers. Spike and Buffy had resumed, somewhat hesitatingly, their romantic relationship when it became painfully obvious that Angel and Buffy just wouldn’t fit anymore. Since then, Spike had become Giles’ right hand. As Head of the Armory, he supplied, or found suppliers for the slayers and watchers weaponry. On more than one occasion Spike had saved them thousands if not millions of dollars by intimidating vendors who would have vastly overcharged them. Giles sometimes thought that Spike’s abilities with money rivaled that of Anya’s; he certainly didn’t like to part with much of it.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and glared his visitor. “Think about what Spike?”

“Going on vacation. My nose tells me that the phone call you just got off of is going to royally piss the Slayer off, and you’re not sticking me with the cleanup. If I have to deal with her twenty-four hour PMSing, then so do you.”

Giles had the grace to look somewhat embarrassed. He should have known that Spike would know what he had been up to. It was something the three of them, he, Spike, and Buffy, had learned some time ago and vowed at the time to keep to themselves. But recent events, such as the world changing, had given him reason to reevaluate his standing on that promise.

“How much did you hear Spike?”

“Enough to know that you’re going to get at least a broken arm in the training Buffy’s going to make you do with her when she finds out.”

Giles cringed. Yes, that seemed to be his slayer’s favorite form of punishment for him when she felt he’d done something wrong. But she needed to learn that she couldn’t always get her way when it came to Dawn.

“Dawn deserved to know. Don’t get me wrong about that, Watcher. But the Slayer’s her guardian, her parent, hell, I’m more father to her than her real one, and you more than me. But it boils down to, Buffy is responsible for Dawn, and she should have made some input into the decision you just made. And another thing,” Giles could tell that Spike was working himself up to a soapbox. For some reason, the vampire loved to make speeches about equality, when he knew it would benefit him, at all other times, he just snickered in the background and let people suffer. “Dawn doesn’t deserve to find out like this Rupert, she should’ve had family there to help her through this.”

Giles heaved another sigh, Spike was right. It was irritating how often that happened. “I know, but Dawn is an adult and this is something she was destined to know.”

He wouldn’t said more on the subject, for at that time the object of his fear bounced in on what could only be a pair of new shoes, the reason for her joy.

She gave them a hundred-watt smile. “Hey guys! Don’t you love my new shoes? They go so well with that dress that Will sent me from France, you know, the red one with the rufflies on the bottom of the hem? I can’t wait to wear them out. Spike, we should go out tonight, show off my new outfit. Whaddya say?”

Spike smiled at her. Giles could tell that he would never say no to anything she asked, the vampire was completely besotted and in love. “Sure Slayer. Name the time.”

Giles smiled gently, he hoped Dawn could deal with her destiny on her own for now, he didn’t want to take that happiness away from Buffy just yet.

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The concierge led them to a private room in the back of the restaurant, Dawn leading and Rona following dutifully behind like the best-trained bodyguard, which Dawn supposed she was, given the situation. They were about to walk into unknown territory and she knew that Rona’s hackles would be up until this was over. The slayer didn’t like closed places, it was like trapping an animal in a cage, eventually they started to get agitated, and that could be bad when you’re talking about a smart mouthed girl who could a pick up a car in one hand.

Despite that, Dawn had faith in Rona’s ability to keep it together, at least until they were back home with the privacy necessary to vent. She imagined Rona would be up half the night making stuffing out of her punching bag, and made a note to order another one from Spike’s supplier.

During the walk, she took the time to study the La Julienne. It was a beautiful restaurant, with soft golden lighting, crimson tablecloths and chairs where accentuated by the varnished dark cherry wood of the tables and hardwood floors. There were stunning original prints on the walls, spanning a wide range of images, from scenes of the French countryside to lovers entwined on clouds. The atmosphere was obviously rich and it was making Dawn uncomfortable, she wasn’t used to these types of places. Even with all the money given to her by the Council, she and Buffy preferred grease pits and sub stations.

Finally, they were brought in front of a door and paused slightly while the concierge rapped softly to let whoever was inside know that they were coming. It was unfortunate; she had hoped to arrive before anybody else, that would teach her not to get visions before a meeting.

He opened the door and they were ushered inside and the door closed behind them and that was it, they were completely committed to this now. No getting out of it. Dawn looked at some of the people around the room and did a mental curse that would have had Buffy busting her down to junior watcher.

The door opened on the far right of the room against the inside wall, and it looked out onto a windowless room and a large rectangular table with ten chairs, four of which were already occupied.

“You know, with all the great cosmic fuck-ups that seem to crop up in my life, you’d think I’d stop being surprised, but no, it’s just like a punch to the gut every time.”

The gorgeous hunk of future Mr. Dawn Summers across from her just looked at Anita like she had just gone completely mental. Dawn winced in sympathy; she would hate to have a man that good-looking stare at her with anything other than complete adoration.

“You know,” she said, bringing Anita’s, and everyone else in the room’s, attention back to her, “you should get together with my sister, you have a lot in common.”

Behind her, Rona let out a stream of giggles that was completely unlike her. Dawn really didn’t know why she was laughing; she hadn’t meant it to be funny.

“What the fuck are you doing her Dr. Summers?” Whoa, even though she had somewhat expected it, Anita was looking at her like a bull looks are one of those clowns at the rodeo, like she wanted to toss Dawn around on a pair of non-existent horns. Now that was anger for you, didn’t get much hotter that in Anita’s kitchen, at least as far as humans went.

She turned and smiled cautiously at Anita, “I told you to call me Dawn.”

Anita’s answer was to cross her arms over her chest and look intimidating. It really was wasted on Dawn, once you’d fought the toughest that hell itself had spit out, and caused the greatest evil in the world to go running with it’s tail between it legs, not much got to you anymore.

But she decided to answer anyway, it wouldn’t do to have these people mad at her right from the start.

“I am the representative from the New Council of Watchers and Slayers. I was ordered to come here and brief you on some facts concerning our organization, such as, what we do, who we are, why we are deigning to tell you, that sort of thing.”

Anita looked like she was getting madder by the second. “So all that earlier, pretending to help with the investigation, working at the coalition, was that just to get info on us?”

“No, I am a student of the Washington University Language Department. I have degrees and doctorates in Ancient Civilizations, Anthropology, Archeology, and Languages, so I was more than qualified to help you with your murders. And may I remind you, that I did not approach you, you approached me, so you really don’t have a leg to stand on.

“As for the coalition, I am an expert with computers, I was taught by the best, so I decided to put my skills to a worthwhile enterprise, that’s all there is to it. I didn’t come to this city with the intention of representing the Council, in fact, I am the last minute replacement.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked back at Rona, whose eyes were telling her to calm down and act like the council rep she was supposed to be. She took a deep breath and gave the room a dazzling smile. “So, to those of you who don’t know me, my name is Dr. Dawn Summers, but you can call me Dawn, and this is Rona Davis. I already know Anita, but the rest of you are a little lacking in the name department.”

Anita looked a little put upon as everyone looked to her to do the introductions, but she pointed to the people in succession. “Richard, Jamil, Claudia, now they have names, take a seat, we’re just waiting for the rest of the rabble to show up.”

Dawn chose a seat at the foot of the table and Rona followed to sit at her left, right next the man introduced as Jamil. He was a tall, African America man, with lots of braids in his hair with red and black beads at the ends. He was also a werewolf and wasn’t bothering to hide it. Dawn supposed that he could be the Ulfric Giles’ had told her about, but his stance screamed bodyguard to her. So she was guessing that Mr. Gorgeous next to him was the Ulfric.

Now there was a man to come home to at night. He had beautiful chestnut hair that she thought could do with a few more inches, but her main goal was to run her fingers thru it before she left the room. His eyes were also an excellent feature, warm chocolate brown, yummy.

Unfortunately for her, he had the sourest expression on his face that she could ever remember seeing, it topped even that time when Spike had accidentally grabbed a cup of demon blood from the fridge that Willow had been experimenting on, and downed it in one gulp. Spike’s face had been priceless, which made her glad that she’d had a camera at the time. She had managed to sell the pictures at ten bucks a pop to almost a hundred slayers and watchers.

She didn’t know why the wolf king looked like he’d eaten sour lemons, but she suspected it had something to do with her and Rona being here and surprising Anita. He looked like the kind of guy who didn’t like those kinds of surprises. Oh well, Dawn thought, it’s a waste of a beautiful face.

The last occupant of the room was Claudia, who Dawn pegged for a bodyguard. The woman had to be at least 6’5” if not taller, and she was the most physically intimidating woman Dawn had ever met. Buffy certainly could kick ass, but people still mistook her for a cheerleader.

No one seemed to be willing to strike up a conversation, so Dawn rooted around in her bag until she found the only book Rona had been willing to let her bring, “The Origin of the Slayer”. She had brought it to make a few points in her introduction of the Council, but it was always good for some light reading.

Beside her Rona was fidgeting. Dawn know that she didn’t like quiet, in fact, Rona was the worst roommate in the world for some people, especially people who didn’t like loud rock music at three in the morning. Thankfully for Rona, Dawn fully supported the idea that rock music any time of the day or night was a great idea.

The slayer looked her way and she gave a brilliant smile before rooting in her bag once more the present Rona with a cherry red lollipop. Rona gave a goofy grin and accepted.

She went back to her book and sighed, she really hated waiting.

Apparently the sigh was loud enough to get the attention from some of the other people in the room, that, or the lycanthrope-like hearing. She was betting on the latter.

“So, what exactly are you, I know you’re not human. Of were you planning to lie about that too?” That was Mr. I-Should-Have-Been-Mr.-Dawn-Summers. She should have expected that he would be the one to bring it up. Every time the Council had sent her on one of these meet-and-greets the same thing always happened.

She supposed it was because she spent too much time around slayers, werewolves and vampires, but she had a tendency to smell like something supernatural. It made things with good noses not trust her so much when they found out that they couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was that was off about her.

When she had first started working for Micah, he had noticed it too. And had promptly let it go when she told him she didn’t want to talk about it. She had taken to wearing a talisman that would keep her co-workers from noticing, but it hadn’t gone with the dress she was wearing tonight, and it was irrelevant for the meeting anyway. It wasn’t like she was the only non-human here.

She noticed the look on Rona’s face. Uh Oh, she recognized that look, her sister got that look sometimes, and it always meant trouble.

“Hey, flea bag!” There she goes, opening her big mouth, this meeting is a disaster already, Giles will never believe that this isn’t my fault.

Richard had stood up very slowly, and turned to face Rona. Jamil was shifting from side to side, Anita looked decidedly unhappy and Claudia looked like she was trying to hold in a grin. Dawn guessed that Claudia was another vote in the “We Don’t Like Richard” column.

“What did you say to me?” Ooohhh. Scary voice. Dawn guessed he thought he was going to be intimidating with that. Maybe if Rona wasn’t a slayer that might have worked. But in the room full of people they were with, it was kind of silly.

Rona smiled sweetly, “I can smell blood on your breath.”

That did the trick, in less than a second Richard had surged out of his chair and dived at Rona. His fingernails had turned to claws and were reaching for her, and his eyes had gone a bright amber color. Jamil had managed to grab him before he made it to Rona and was attempting to calm him down.

“You bitch, you goddamn fucking bitch!” Yeah, like that was original.

Meanwhile, Dawn had grabbed Rona’s arm and was dragging her back a little. “Put that dog on a leash, will ya?”

Jamil shot her a look that said he was contemplating letting his king go, and damn the consequences. Dawn looked over to Anita and Claudia, they both had guns out but seemed to be at a loss of who to point them at.

Jamil now had Richard’s head in a lock she had often seen on wrestling shows. She didn’t think it would hold him for long, but she would take what she could get. She once again rooted around in her bag, searching for the little vile of instant sleep that Willow had made for her for just such occasions.

She had just felt her fingertips brush against the glass when the door to the room opened to admit three more people, and one of them was the lovely Micah. He took in the whole scene and gave a small amused smile.

“Are we interrupting?”

AN: sorry for taking so long folks. Please R&R.