Call Waiting: Dawn
by Meg F.

 

Notes: Thanks to: Vic, Dot, Pete, and Jen.

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"Dawn! About time you got home, young lady," Buffy rebuked, pretending to scowl.

She stood aside and let Dawn in. Dawn mustered a smile, barely. She dumped her bag and parked herself on the bottom stair. She rubbed her eyes.

Buffy sat next to her. "Are you okay? Maybe you're not ready for this, Dawn. You're always so tired after work."

"It's only dog-walking, Buffy," Dawn protested immediately. "Another girl was sick, so I had extra to do today. I don't want to quit. I need the money. I can handle it."

"If you're sure," Buffy said reluctantly. "Anyway, dinner will be ready in an hour. You should go upstairs and rest."

"Okay," Dawn agreed. Buffy went into the kitchen.

Dawn walked upstairs to her room and threw her bag onto the bed. She took off her heavy coat and stood in front of the mirror, pulling up her shirt to reveal a large bruise on her ribcage. It was set off by a cluster of bruises, some old, some new, on her arms and legs. "Ouch," she muttered idly. "Walking dogs is the least of my worries."

Her wristwatch beeped. "Not again," she groaned.

A shimmering light moved over her, leaving her in a skintight unitard with boots, gloves, and a helmet. White, black, and pink. She looked at herself in the mirror. "Pink Ranger," she snickered. "Who'da thunk it?"

End

~*~

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