The next morning found Buffy awake and quietly so. Remembering the events of the night before, she grimaced, har face drawing itself into a frown as she muttered under her breath, ‘Ok Buffy. Let’s get it together. No more falling at Angel’s feet,’ and with that she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door firmly shut behind her.

Sliding her cardigan from her shoulders, her fingers felt the ridges along her upper arms left by the ridged pattern. Leaning into the tub, she turned the taps to full force and left the shower to warm up as she brushed her teeth. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she took in the dark shadows beneath her eyes, pieces of her hair having escaped the bun she forced it into yesterday to frame her face wildly. Smacking her lips and making an ew face, she realized she hasn’t brushed since yesterday morning and it felt like a cat had climbed in and made itself comfy in her mouth. Looking away from the haunted girl in the mirror, Buffy busied herself with brushing her teeth (twice) before liberally gargling with Listerine. Avoiding looking into the mirror again, she pulled the rest of her golden hair from the sagging bun and shed the remainder of her clothes and stepped into the hot spray. Taking her mesh scrubby, she added a healthy dose of her bath gel before scrubbing it along her neck. First one side, across the front and then the other, she washed, moving the mesh over her skin firmly before sliding down to wash her chest, moving over her breasts and shoulders before stretching out her arm. Catching sight of her burned hand, Buffy stared at it, bringing it closer to her face. She examined her knuckles, spreading her fingers wide before turning her hand over to look at her palm. It didn’t burn anymore. At first it hurt, not too much, just enough to be bothersome and make her suck in her breath at unexpected contact. Now it was just warm, much like the last vestiges of sunburn but without the vivid colour that usually accompanied it. Her skin was still golden and tanned and seemingly unmarred from the flames that pulsed around her hand as she laced fingers with Spike. The only noticeable difference was a slightly pinkish hue where the flames had burned her, running between her fingers and curling along the bottom knuckle of her thumb to lick at the inside of her wrist. Closing her eyes, Buffy felt the tears start and she stepped back under the showerhead and let them quietly mingle with the hot spray raining down over her.

15 minutes later, feeling marginally better than she had in the last 3 days, Buffy rummaged into her knapsack and found her last remaining pair of clean underwear and a pair of jeans, wondering how on earth Giles had been able to stand going through her underwear drawer, stuffy Brit that he was. Getting dressed, a ghost of a smile haunted her lips as she imagined him just reaching in and grabbing whatever, his head turned away, feeling uncomfortable with such delicate feminine garments. A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts and speak off the devil…

“Buffy. Angel called. He wants us to be at his office at 9:30 which gives us exactly 30 minutes. “ Giles muffed voice came through the door. “How he expects us to get there in that time with LA’s traffic is beyond me, but he mentioned that you had asked him to look into some things for you and he has your information.” He continued, sounds more than a bit exasperated.

Standing up and opening the door, Buffy faced her Watcher, taking in his worried gaze, noticing the lines around his eyes looked a little bit deeper as he tiredly faced her questioningly.

“Well then. I guess we should go see what he’s found out. Ready to go into the Lion’s Den with me?” she asked quietly.

Staring at her for a moment, his gaze turning from worried to fatherly, Giles replied softly, “I’ll be right there with you,” and turning her left her to finish getting ready.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

40 minutes later they were ushered into Angel office with the promise that a small breakfast had been laid out for them, considering how early the morning was.

‘A small breakfast??’ Buffy thought, looking at the table with surprised eyes. A carafe of orange juice sat next to what looked like a carafe of apple. Next to them sat a basket overflowing with various muffins and bagels and croissants and in front of it small dishes of assorted jellies and cheeses and small pats of butter. Behind it was a small pot of what Buffy assumed to be something hot considering the wisps of steam that escaped the spout and next to it was a small basket of at least 20 different teas along with a small pitcher of milk and a bottle of honey and even still next to that was a small basket of colourfully wrapped nutritional cereal bars of every possible flavor. This ‘small' breakfast was topped off with a large basket consisting of oranges and green apples and dark purple grapes with bananas and halved honeydew to finish it off.

Looking at Angel with questioning eyes, he smiled uneasily as his eyes searched her face and he stepped over to the table and took a plate and before handing it to her he simply answered “I didn’t want a repeat performance of last night.”

Stepping back, Angel perched on the corner of his desk, silently watching her as she settled on a chocolate chocolate-chip muffin and a glass of apple juice. She was still pale in spite of her golden skin, but this morning she seemed to have her bearings a little more than she had the past few days. Still watching her as she sat, he breathed deeply; quietly, taking in her vanilla sugared scent and immediately recognizing the barest hint of something darker and his eyes flashed from brown to gold and back again as she sat waiting for Giles to finish steeping his teabag before facing Angel again and asking “So. What have you got for me?”

Reaching behind him, Angel picked up the folder that was marked with a yellow post it, ANGEL written across it in capital letters. Breaking eye contact with her for a moment, he opened the folder to look at the few papers inside outlining the details of one Henry “Hank” James Summers.

Looking up and locking gazes with Giles, Angel took an unnecessary breath before looking down to where Buffy sat. “Buffy your father is a wealthy man if you haven’t guessed that already. He owns a number of properties and is partnered in businesses both in Florida and in New York, mostly made up of restaurants and apartment buildings and a few nightclubs, including the ones he deeded over to you.” Handing over a sheet of paper, Buffy read off basic information and the names of her father’s businesses, written in a neat, precise handwriting.

Henry “Hank” James Summers
DOB 2/6/57 La Jolla CA
Father: James M. Summers – Deceased
Mother: Ariel Rose Laramie-Summers – Deceased

1 Marriage, Joyce Anne Gatlin, DOB September 18, 1958
Wed on June 15, 1989. Divorced December 1996.
1 daughter Elizabeth “Buffy” Anne Summers, DOB October 24, 1980

Businesses:

Inferno – upscale nightclub in East Manhattan, NY, partnered 2 years.

Full Moon Fever – nightclub in Ft. Lauderdale, FL, owned 3 years, ownership recently transferred over to Elizabeth Anne Summers

Life Force – organic and whole food grocery store in Ft. Lauderdale, FL, owned 3 years

Vino’s Italian Restaurant – one in Long Island, NY (just opened 2 months ago, partnered) and 2 in Florida, Sunrise (4 years, partnered) and Miami (4 ½ years, partnered).

The Montgomery Building – Office building that house Afriam and Westbrook law firm as well as smaller companies including Atlantic Financial Services, Hoffman Advertising and Drs Allen Jacoby and Richard Silverman dental practice, owned 5 years.

La Piazza – small hotel consisting of 30 apartments, 4 suites, 2 gyms/business centers with a the groundfloor space being rented out to a bookstore/coffee shop and a small beachside cocktail bar owned 2 years, ownership recently transferred over to Elizabeth Anne Summers.

Star Island Apartment Homes – large hotel consisting of 60 condo-style apartments on Star Island, purchased 6 months ago, partnered.

Personal Holdings:

8BR seaside Estate with horse stable, servants housing and a private chapel on the estate grounds - still in the process of remodeling - Rome, Italy

5BR seaside Villa - Mallorca, Spain

4BR Apartment - London, UK

3BR Home - East Hampton, New York

4BR Home - Los Angeles, California

2BR Penthouse in Twilight Towers - Los Angeles, California; ownership recently transferred over to Elizabeth Anne Summers

10 acre housing lot in Ft. Lauderdale FL

25 acres in Parish, LA - renting out mineral rights to Chikapee Parish Developers

29 acres developmetal property - business or housing in Big Sur, CA

30 acre apple orchard in Hood River, OR



Currently seeking additional business properties to aquire in Rome,Greece and London.

Affiliated with: St. Anthony’s by the Sea (Catholic Church), St. Anthony’s Shelter and Sunshine Kids youth Activity Center.

Has stock in Afriam and Westbrook as well as Wolfram and Hart, Intel and Dell

Net worth January 2003, 59.7 Million. Liquid assets: 41.4 Million. Additional 18.3 Million, partnered.

With every line read, Buffy’s eyes grew a little wider. Reaching the end of the paper she looked up at Angel, confusion registered over her delicate features.

“But..but… Angel if this is true, then why? Why did my Mother have to work such long hours at the gallery to pay the bills? Why did I have to work at that damn human-burger buffet for minimum wage when he was sitting there pretending that we didn’t exist? Why am I finding out about all of this, this way, through you and not him and living in a hotel now at your expense?” With each word her voice became less and less young and Buffyish and took on the harder tone of a young woman that had been deeply hurt and was becoming increasingly angry.

Turning suddenly, her eyes latching onto Giles’ own, she asked point blank, “Giles. Did you know anything about any of this?”

Taking a sip of his cooling tea, the Watcher looking at the young woman he almost considered to be a daughter, before answering as honestly as he could.

“Buffy, when we researched Wolfram and Hart, we found they had a list of partners and silent partners, if you will, and the name Henry Summers was listed among them. For a brief moment I thought it could be your father, but considering what was going on at the time, I put it out of my mind and I simply haven’t thought about it since.”

Looking back to Angel, Buffy sat rigidly in her seat, her muffin long forgotten in her lap. Angel, still perched on the corner of his desk, cleared his throat before speaking again. “Buffy, that’s not all. Afriam and Westbrook have ties to both Wolfram and Hart and to the Tangliotti family in New York.”

“Tangliotti family?!? Umm, who…what family?” she said quietly.

“The Tangilotti family is a well known family in New York and they are pretty heavy into the mob,” Angel responded just as quietly. “They’ve been in the news and in the papers for the last 10 years, connecting them to various murders and money laundering and drug trafficking. So far, nothing has stuck and they manage to stay one step ahead of the law even though they are dragged into court at least once a year.”

“My father is connected to the mafia?!?” Buffy all but whispered, looking even more dazed than she had after reading how wealthy her father was when she felt a prickly sensation in the pit of her stomach.

At that same moment, Angel’s office door burst open and a harried looking young woman was all but shouting, “I’m sorry sir. I tried to tell them you were in a meeting but they insisted on seeing you now and …” and right on her heels walked in a man who was visibly irate and someone she thought she’d never see again.

“Now, just who in the hell do you think you are and how in the hell did you manage to make the pilots on a private jet bring me to this God-forsaken city? I will not be handled in this manner and if you think for one moment that I don’t know who you are…” and just as suddenly as he started, he stopped when his eyes landed on Buffy.

‘Wow,’ Buffy thought. ‘He looks exactly the same as he did the last time that I seen him.’ And her stomach knotted even more.

“Buffy?” Hank Summers asked in surprise, the end coming out in a jump as Alec Dreyfuss walked straight into his unmoving back. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Dad,” she said tightly, looking up at him and speaking in a very precise manner. “Long time, no see.”

Stepping forward, away from the door, Hank took 3 more steps bringing him closer to the chair in which she was sitting in. “Yes. It’s been awhile. I’m sorry Buffy. I’ve been tremendously busy, hellaciously so in fact.” His voice took on a smooth, placating tone.

“So busy you couldn’t bother to call or to write or even jot off a few lines in an e-mail or a text message even to say ‘Hi Buffy. I’m not dead. How are you?’” she said tightly, her eyes blazing green fire.

“I’m sorry Buffy. In the last few years I’ve opened so many businesses and they take me all over the east coast and there’s meeting after meeting with bankers and financial officers and partners and the like, and the days just start to blur one into another,” he stopped, his face forming into a guilty frown while his eyes stayed alert and unfazed. “I’m so sorry about everything recently Buffy. What you must have gone through these past few years with the Hellmouth and your Mother. Your Mom. Oh hun, I am so sorry about your Mom pumpkin. I wish I could have been there for you both….” His voice trailing off as she pulled herself out of the chair.

Standing slowly, setting her picked over muffin gently on her now vacant seat, Buffy raised herself to stand her full 5 feet 3 inches (ok 5’5” with her shoes on) and looked at the man she had called father ever since she could form words. Green eyes locking with hazel ones, Buffy suddenly reared back with her right arm and punched her father dead in the center of his face, satisfied when she felt his nose crunch and his lips split beneath her knuckles as he flew back over the small table that housed their breakfast, dishes breaking and fruit and bagels flying in all directions as he landed on the other side with a crash.