Daughter Of Mine: Chapter 1 Can Open, Worms Everywhere
by Willow Fireheart
Disclaimer- Not mine.
Note- Many thanks to GrayMatter, who, even though this wasn’t the fic she was wanting, still beta-ed it anyway.
Note2- I know this isn’t the most exciting chapter, but it is necessary and it means we are getting closer to some of the big revelations of the fic, not to mention some funny moments.
Note3- For Firefly fans, it helps to imagine Jamie similar to Jayne when interrogated.
xxx
Chapter 14
“This sucks.”
Giles paused and rubbed the space between his eyebrows. “Yes, I’d have to agree with you, it rather does.”
Buffy slouched in her seat and pouted. “What are we going to do?”
Giles gently placed the book in his hand onto the table. “We’ll tell the truth. Well, as much of the truth as possible,” he amended seeing the look on Buffy’s face.
“I hate that little troll.” Jamie crossed his arms across his chest.
“Join the club,” Buffy told him bitterly.
The bell rang signaling first period. Neither Buffy nor Jamie moved.
“You two better get to class. Mr. Schirato said he would be by today to begin the interviews. And, Jamie, I do believe that you are taking Willow out tonight?”
“Not now, after everything that happened. Willow won’t mind if we reschedule.”
Giles shook his head, suddenly feeling stubborn. “Jamie, I won’t have this farce interfere with your life. Or yours, Buffy. You told Willow tonight and you are going. A night away from patrolling and demons will you both a world of good.”
“But it’s not fair,” Buffy told him in a small voice. “You haven’t done anything but support us and be our father. They could fire you, Giles. Or deport you. They could take you away from me… from us.”
“Buffy…”
“Hem, hem.” The sound of someone faking clearing their throat stopped the three of them.
As one they turned towards the door. The door where Mr. Schirato stood in his neatly pressed suit and well-coifed hair.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asked in cold, hard clipped tones.
“We were just leaving,” Buffy told him, giving him a look she usually reserved for the worst pus dripping demons.
“I’m afraid your first class will have to wait, Miss Summers. I’d like to interview you first.”
xxxxx
“Has Mr. Giles ever touched you in an inappropriate way?”
“No!”
“Has he ever said anything to you that would indicate he has less than professional feelings for you?”
“My god! You’re trying to vilify him!”
“Please answer the question, Miss Summers.”
“No! You’re making him sound like one of those dirty old men in the park that leer at thirteen year olds.”
Mr. Schirato cleared his throat. “Very well. Are you aware that it was the actions of Mr. Giles that caused your re-admittance to this school after Principal Snyder expelled you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you aware that in order to convince Principal Snyder to readmit you Mr. Giles inflicted bodily harm and threatened further violence?”
Buffy was silent for a moment. Then a wicked grin spilt her face. “Sweet.”
“Shall I take that as a no?”
“Take it mean whatever you want.”
There was silence as pen annoyingly scratched across paper.
“Several teachers have stated that you and your friends are often seen in the library late into the night.”
“So, we like to study.”
“I have your marks here, Miss Summers. For someone who likes to study so much you seem to be failing a lot of subjects.”
“Giles has been teaching me martial arts. This town isn’t the safest. I like to be safe at night.”
“Humm.” There was more scratching. “Do you know why the allegations were made?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “You want to know why Snyder’s doing this, fine. He’s jealous. Giles kicked his puny little butt, my mother knocked back Snyder’s advances and everyone likes Giles more than him.”
“Even if what you say is true, Miss Summers, you do have to admit that there are reasons for concern.”
“No, there aren’t. For three years Giles has been there for us. For most of he’s the only stable parental figure we have. And you’re trying to take that away!”
Mr. Schirato’s eyebrow arched. “You see him as a father-figure?” He noted something else down. “Interesting.”
Buffy waved a finger at him. “Oh no. Not interesting. It’s not some perverted sexual thing.”
“I never said it was, Miss Summers.”
“But you were thinking it.”
“What makes you think of Mr. Giles as your father?”
“Because he is!” Immediately Buffy’s eyes went wide. Can open, worms everywhere.
“Records show that your father is one Mr. Hank Summers.”
“I was adopted.” This came out muffled.
“Very well. I’m sure you won’t mind me confirming this with your mother.”
Buffy shook her head.
“Thank you, Miss Summers. That will be all. You may return to your class.”
xxxxx
Giles jumped as the library doors crashed open.
A teary-eyed Buffy came pelting in. Frantically she fumbled for the phone and with shaky fingers she dialed a number. Drawing in a deep breath she waited for the call to connect.
“Damn it!” Buffy cursed as she got her mother’s voice mail. “Mom, it’s Buffy. Um, I have to talk to you about something. So no matter what you hear please play along and I’ll explain everything tonight. Ah, bye.”
With a half sigh, half sob Buffy collapsed into a chair.
“Buffy, what on earth-“
“I told him.” She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “I told him you were my father.”
xxxxx
Willow fidgeted in her seat under the intense stare of Mr. Schirato. Now she knew what Jonathan must have felt all those times she integrated him.
“Several teachers have stated that you and your friends are often seen in the library late into the night.”
Willow looked at him with wide eyes. “We study there. And Giles doesn’t really understand computers. I help him out with the cataloguing, especially since Ms. Calendar died.”
Mr. Schirato looked at his notepad. “Yes, I understand that Mr. Giles was a suspect in her murder.”
“Y-yes. But Giles didn’t do it! He loved Ms. Calendar. He was heartbroken when she died. The police cleared him and everything.”
“Hmm. Do you know why the allegations were made?”
Willow shook her head fervently. “No. Giles has always been really nice to us. To everyone. Not many people don’t like him.”
“Has he ever said anything to you that would indicate he has less than professional feelings for you?”
“No! He’s always teacherish. Even when he compliments us. He usually pats us on the shoulder and tells us we did a good job.”
Mr. Schirato’s pen scratched against the paper in note pad. “Has Mr. Giles ever touched you in an inappropriate way?”
Willow’s eyes grew wider. “No! Never! Never ever.”
“Miss Summers said that she saw him as a father figure. Do you?”
Willow looked down at the tabletop and wrung her hands together. “I do see him more than I see my dad. And he always tells me to do my best.”
“Is that a yes?”
Willow gnawed on her bottom lip. “Well, kinda. Yeah. Yes, I do.”
Mr. Schirato wrote something down. “Thank you, Miss Rosenberg. That will be all. You may return to your class.”
xxxxx
Xander flopped into the chair. He automatically started tapping his hands on the tabletop.
“Please stop that.”
Xander stilled his fingers. “Sorry.” He shifted in his chair. “So, uh, you work for the school board?”
Mr. Schirato didn’t look up from his notes. “Yes.”
“You must have loved school. Can’t stand it myself, if I had to stay here for another five years I’d…”
Mr. Schirato looked up and glared at him.
“Shut up, Xander. Don’t irritate the man,” he told himself.
“If it is all right with you, Mr. Harris, I would like to start the interview now.”
Xander shrugged. “Sure, go ahead. Don’t let me stop you.”
“Several teachers have stated that you and your friends are often seen in the library late into the night.”
Xander shrugged again. “Willow and Buffy are my best friends. And it’s cheaper than the Bronze.”
“For some one who doesn’t like school, you do spend an extraordinary amount of time here.”
“Knowledge is power. Especially around here.”
“And yet we come across your grades.”
“Some knowledge is worth more than others.” Xander turned grim. “Knowing the theme of The Scarlet Letter or how to calculate pi to the nth degree isn’t going to save your life, it’s just gravy.”
Mr Schirato raised an eyebrow. “I see.” For several long minutes he ignored Xander as he wrote. He cleared his throat. “Has Mr. Giles ever touched you in an inappropriate way?”
“Whoa! What? No!”
“Has he ever said anything to you that would indicate he has less than professional feelings for you?”
“Yeah, right. He whispers sweet nothings to me when the others turn their back. Please! Giles isn’t like that. Hell, I’m not even sure he likes me. As a person. A student. A student-like person.”
“I see.” There was more pen scratching.
“Miss Summers said that she saw him as a father figure. Do you?”
Xander shrunk into his seat. He was reluctant to answer. “I suppose.”
“What makes you think of Mr. Giles as a father figure?”
Xander shrugged and scratched at the liquid paper that someone had used to tag the table. “He’s better than my old man. At least Giles has a job.”
“Do you know why the allegations were made?”
Xander straightened, having more control than Buffy, at least when it came to this. “Wouldn’t have clue.”
Mr. Schirato sighed. “Thank you, Mr. Harris. That will be all. You may return to your class.”
Xander scrambled out of the chair. Never before had he been so glad about history class.
xxxxx
“Miss Chase, I expect an answer!”
Cordelia looked up from her nails. “So ask your question than. Geeze.” She rolled her eyes.
“Has Mr. Giles ever touched you in an inappropriate way?”
“No.” She smothered a yawn with one hand.
“Has he ever said anything to you that would indicate he has less than professional feelings for you?”
“No.”
“Several teachers have stated that you and your friends are often seen in the library late into the night.”
Cordelia shrugged and started to file her nails again. “Xander’s there. And the stacks are usually deserted. Better than a car.”
“Do you know why the allegations were made?”
Cordelia stopped filing her nails and taped the emery board against her cheek. “Well, he does wear a lot of tweed. Not that that’s a crime or anything. Though it should be. He would look so much nicer if he would just ditch the tweed and find something in a nice navy blue, or black. Preferably Armani.” She sighed. “But do you think he listens to me. He’s all ‘Cordelia, I do not need your fashion advice,’ even though he clearly does. And he made me pay this fine for a book I had for two years even though the fine was, like, huge.”
Mr. Schirato rubbed the area between his eyes. This girl was quickly givinghim a migraine. “Thank you, Miss Chase,” he interrupted her. “That will be all. You may return to your class.”
“Finally.” With effortless grace she rose and left the room, flicking her hair over shoulder and hiding a large gin.
xxxxx
Amy Maddison watched the man that was meant to interviewing her read through her record with raised eyebrows. He seemed like the type that was easily influenced.
“Mr. Schirato?” Her voice was full of power.
He looked up at her and in that moment was caught in her gaze.
“Listen to me, Mr. Schirato. Giles is innocent.”
“Innocent,” he mumbled.
“He has never hurt any of us.”
“Never hurt,” he couldn’t help but repeat.
“These claims are fraudulent.”
“But-“ he protested.
“They are fraudulent,” she repeated more forcefully.
“But my investigation?”
“Can continue, but you will see only the truth about Giles’ character.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
“You will forget this conversation, Mr. Schirato. You have conducted the interview and nothing is out of place.”
“Nothing…”
Amy broke eye contact with him. “Can I go now?”
Mr. Schirato looked around in confusion, then down at his notepad. He frowned. “Ah, yes. I’m sorry. You can return to your classes, Miss Maddison.”
Amy smirked at him. “Thank you.”
xxxxx
Jamie stared at the man that was investigating his father. He crossed his arms over his chest and silently glared at him. Challenging him with his eyes. There was no way Jamie was going to give this bastard the chance to twist his words.
He was just like the Watcher’s Council.
Mr. Schirato ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Mr. Giles, it would benefit your father’s case if you would answer some of the questions posed to you.”
Jamie shifted in his chair but remained silent.
Mr. Schirato put down his notepad. “Very well, you may go.”
xxxxx
It was a tense and silent group that sat around the table in the library that afternoon.
“Bastard,” Jamie muttered.
“Jamie!”
“He is, dad. You should have heard the things he was asking about you, trying to insinuate about you.”
“Believe me, I am well aware of what Mr. Schirato believes about me.” Giles took a deep breath. “Perhaps the best thing to do would be to go home for the night and take the time to distract yourself. Go to the Bronze. Do whatever it is you teenagers do that I don’t want to hear about. Ever.”
“Are you sure, Giles? Cause we could stay here and find something to exonerate you. I’m not sure what…” Willow trailed uncertainly.
Giles smiled at her. “There is nothing you can do, Willow. Please, just do as I ask.”
Xander stood and pulled Cordelia up with him. “I don’t think we’re ever gonna be given permission to slack off again, so I’m taking it. Come on, Cordy.”
Slowly they started to trickle out. Giles pulled his hand out of his pocket and slipped several bills into Jamie’s hand. Glancing at it, Jamie quickly pocketed it with a small smile.
“I would like you home at reasonable hour please, Jamie. It is a school night after all.”
Jamie mock saluted him. “Right. See you at one then.” He grinned at his father, who simply shook his head and grinned back.
Nervously, Jamie turned to Willow. “So, shall we?”
Willow blushed. “Okay.”
Giles turned back to the table; surprised to see Buffy still huddled up in a chair. “Buffy, is there something wrong?”
She looked up at him and he was surprised to see fear in her eyes, real fear, the kind he hadn’t seen since she came to him to tell him that she had encountered Angel on her patrol the night before.
“I’m going to tell mom, tonight. About you and Jamie.”
Feeling relieved, Giles sat down beside her and rested his hand over hers. “It will be alright, Buffy. No matter what happens. I promise.”
xxxxx
Buffy stood outside her house; hand on the doorknob. She dropped her head for a second and took a deep, fortifying breath. With one sharp twist she opened the door and stepped in.
“Mom, I’m home.”
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