Title: Why Me?
Disclaimer: Gee, this is a tough one…not mine.
Spoilers/Timeline: Anything through "The Zeppo" (season 3) is fair game.
Summary: To both Dawn and Angel's dismay, Angel gets stuck babysitting Dawn. Oh the joy…
Author's Notes: Due to a request by gidgetgirl, it has arrived! The Angel and Dawn babysitting saga! (Well, not quite a saga, but anyways…)
This is also going to be a POV fic, my first, so please be nice! (It's easer for me to do POV, but I don't think it comes out as well.)
No, no, no, no, no.
I don't know why I ever agreed to do it.
Probably because Buffy gave me the pouty puppy face, which she only does when she wants a really big favor. It's unfair. Kudos to whoever can resist the Buffy Summers pout.
But I said yes, and that's how I've gotten stuck babysitting Dawn while Willow and Buffy study at the library. Ha. They're probably not even studying, they're probably gossiping and enjoying the night free of boyfriends and little sisters. Not that I blame them for either thing. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Or, if you listen to Buffy when she talks about Dawn, "Distance makes my brain get saner." Whoever you listen to, I'm all alone with a twelve year-old hyped up on caffeine.
I knew I should have bought Jell-O instead of ice cream.
But Dawn asked for ice cream and gave me the Summers puppy pout, and she therefore got Death By Chocolate Ice Cream, and full quart of it. Chocolate ice cream with chocolate fudge, chocolate chips, and chocolate brownie chunks. Too much of a good thing if you ask me, but I haven't eaten real food in two hundred years, and I've never eaten ice cream, so what do I know?
At least I don't keep coffee around the house.
Or anything else caffeinated.
It's going to be a long night.
This mansion has got to be the most boring place on Earth. Angel does not know how to have fun. Not like Angel having fun was expected. I pretty much expected him to frown at something, probably me, all night anyway. But it turns out Angel's okay. He got me a whole quart of Death By Chocolate Ice Cream!
The mansion doesn't seem so boring now.
Dawn has nothing quiet to do. I need to get a TV.
Buffy tells me this all the time.
"I can never have a romantic night watching movies with you," she complains.
"Why not? You have a TV."
She frowns. "Remember what happened the last time we had a movie date at my house?"
Of course I remember. Dawn got the stomach bug. She claims it was food poisoning, but Buffy and Dawn have been known to be—what's the expression? Oh yeah—drama queens at times. I'm almost certain it was the stomach bug.
I really hope she won't get sick tonight.
Then again, if she keeps bouncing around like that, she most likely will.
"Dawn," I say to her, "try not to jump so much. You'll get sick."
"No I won't," she says breathlessly, doing the Charleston next to my fireplace, which is currently dark and cold. It's been very hot lately in Sunnydale, which only adds to the question: Why is Dawn dancing around like a manic?
She seems to read my mind. "It's fun," she explains, jumping up, then crouching down to touch the ground, then jumping up again. She looks like a tennis ball on caffeine. Which is true, except for the fact that Dawn isn't a tennis ball.
Oh great, now my thoughts are all messed up. I guess this is what babysitting will do to you.
She's choreographing her own dance now, complete with grapevines, jazz squares, and leaps. It looks like some sort of strange ballet. Where all the dancers are on caffeine.
She hums the first few notes of 'Louie, Louie.' This just gets weirder and weirder. I think back to when the citizens of Sunnydale all ate chocolate that turned them into immature kids. Not that I was there, but Buffy told me about most of—
Chocolate bars. Dawn's ice cream was full of chocolate chunks. It couldn't be. Oh God, no. Not the candy again.
I think back to the kind of ice cream I bought. It was mass-produced. Out of where? I rush to the kitchen. Mass produced from Milwaukee. It's obviously not The Candy. Good.
But I still have a caffeine-high kid to deal with. A caffeine-kid who's looking for a dance partner. Uh-oh.
* * *
I hear footsteps outside. Buffy's face appears at the door. All is quiet. She looks around. Dawn is sleeping on the couch. She finally fizzled out about an hour ago. I'm nearly as exhausted as she is. But I know a dance routine to 'Louie, Louie' now. Maybe if I do it the next time I patrol, the vampires will laugh so hard I can stake them while they're distracted.
She surveys the scene, then steps inside. "You lucky duck," she says, giving me a quick kiss on the lips. "You had a quiet night."
"A quiet night?" I ask. It's one in the morning Buffy. She just fell asleep an hour ago."
"Was she awful?"
"Awful?" I give her a pained look. "She made me dance to 'Louie Louie'."
Buffy tries to look serious. "She did?"
"Yes," I tell her. "Look." I dance the first few beats for her, just to demonstrate how awful my night was.
She can't pretend to be serious any more, and she bursts out laughing. I take one look at her face and laugh with her. She has a contagious laugh.
She wipes tears from her eyes and kisses me again, almost as if she's apologizing. "What made her so hyper?"
"Chocolate," I said. "Death By Chocolate Ice Cream. I'd suggest that you never buy it for her again. Ever."
Buffy grins. "Promise," she says, holding up her hand as if she's taking an oath. "Never."
I sigh in relief. "Good. Now you'd better get home. See you later."
"Bye," she says, and we kiss goodbye. She walks over and wakes up Dawn, who groggily follows her to the door. Buffy smiles and waves before disappearing with her sister, who is now suffering from caffeine withdrawal.
I got into my room and lie down.
I'm definitely charging a babysitting fee next time. Plus reimbursement for the ice cream.