Immediately, Dreyfuss stepped forward and Angel moved quickly to stand at Buffy’s back. Taking one look at Buffy’s face, whatever he thought to do was quickly scrapped when he saw the cold rage in the Slayer’s face.

“M-Miss Summers, really. Was that n-necessary?” Dreyfuss asked, his stammering only serving to enhance the appearance that we was about to turn tail and run hell bent for leather.

“I think you should sit down Mr. Dreyfuss and just not bother to speak unless I tell you to,” Buffy said coldly, turning back to the sound of her father groaning as he grasped the table, using it for leverage to get back to his feet. Waiting for him to stand upright, she continued in the same cold tone. “As for you, don’t you ever call me pumpkin again. You lost that right years ago.”

Cradling his hands around his bleeding nose and mouth, Hank simply nodded.

Turning to Angel, Buffy looked up at the dark vampire, noticing his normally broody features were strained, his eyes dancing with laugher and his jaw clenched to keep from laughing. Cocking her head a bit to the side, one eyebrow arched in annoyance, she quietly apologized to Angel for destroying breakfast.

Looking to Giles, who remained surprisingly quiet the whole time, Angel addressed him with a falsely cheerful tone. “Well, Giles my man, shall we see if we can continue this meeting in a room not littered with food?”

“Let’s.” was the only reply he received from a still stunned Brit who was absently stirring his tea round and round without end.

10 minutes later, transferred into a small conference room and Buffy’s father cleaned up, the 5 sat down uneasily, Dreyfuss still looking as if he might bolt at the slightest provocation.

Buffy looked across the table at her father, still not saying a word; staring at him hard enough to make him uncomfortable and he glanced away at the daughter he had wronged for so many years.

“Well,” he began tentatively. “I guess I can understand why I deserved that.” And he glanced at his daughter once more.

“Oh, you deserve a whole lot more. Just be glad that I held back a little bit.” She responded, unblinking as she stared at him. “Now, I think I am entitled to some answers and I think you’d better start talking starting with how are you related to that snotty sack sitting next to you,” gesturing to Dreyfuss with a tilt of the head.

His eyes widening in surprise, Dreyfuss stammered “H-how..why d-do you think…”

Buffy turned her cool green gaze to him, staring at him for a heartbeat or two before cutting him off. “Now is not the time to play games with me Mr. Dreyfuss. Just in case you didn’t get the point when I punched my ‘father’ in the mouth, I am not in the mood to play games.” Dismissing his sputtering with a slow-rolling of her eyes, he looked back to her father before continuing. “Well?”

Sighing painfully, Hank’s gaze flicked to the man sitting beside him before looking across the table at the trio before him. Searching for any sign of sympathy, he stared at Giles as the Watcher continued stirring his tea, seeming non-pulsed before his gaze traveled over to the dark, handsome man to Buffy’s right. Seeming bored, Angel crossed his arms over his chest, looking very much at ease next to his daughter. Finally finding no sympathy in either man, he looked at Buffy once more, her manner one of quiet expectancy, her eyes the only thing that gave her away as they blazed at him.

“To save time, I'll give you the basics. Your grandma Rosie was seeing a boy that her family did not approve of, with them being what was considered to be well off back then and this boy was, shall we say, 'less than suitable'? She ignored her parents and continued to see him and when they found out they threatened to send her overseas to school, so when she was 17, she ran off and married him. She got pregnant while he was working at the saw mill. There was some sort of an accident and he later died. 5 months later, Alec was born. Her family made her give him away to relatives to raise so that she could be brought back into proper society and find a more suitable husband, and 2 years later she married your grandfather James and a year after that I was born.”

“Grandma Rosie? The one that died when you were born,” Buffy asked stiffly.

“Yes”

“So that makes him my Uncle then.” She stated matter of factly.

“Yes.” Hank replied quietly.

“Ok then. So now, let’s hear the rest of it,” she said dismissively, her eyes slicing him into ribbons.

“What would you like to know,” Hank asked her quietly.

“Just start talking and I’ll tell you when you’ve said enough,” she added evenly, her voice barely registering half the anger he saw in her eyes.

“Well, umm, as I said before we got physical, I-I’m sorry about your Mom…”

“Stop! Just stop right there,” she cut him off forcefully. Not one word about my Mother. You’re not fit to even say her name, so just leave out the ‘I’m sorry about your Mom’ crap and just tell me why you forgot about us and why now all of a sudden you want to play Dad because I really am interested in what in the hell makes you think I want anything to do with you at all. So. Tell me a story ‘Daaad’ and make it a good one,” her voice sneering with the familiar term.

Swallowing hard, little beads of perspiration appearing above his swollen lips, Hank took a deep breath before continuing.

“We weren’t getting along anymore, your Mo-Joyce and I. A lot of fighting between us and we decided it was best not to raise you in that kind of environment. I was trying to start my own business, outside the job I already had and I just took to spending more and more time there to avoid the fighting and we just grew apart even more…”

Staring intently at him, his voice faded out as she noticed his eyes flicker and she blinked, her stomach prickling again, unsure of what she actually saw. Blinking again slowly, she refocused on his story, staring at him even more intently as before.

“…and the next thing I know, I said divorce. She agreed right there, that it was the best thing. So, we divorced and she left LA and brought you to Sunnydale to start over and I tried to stay out of your way as much as possible. After that last fight Joyce and I had and the way you looked when we found you listening in, I tried to distance myself to avoid hurting you anymore. Buffy, I know right now what I say to you doesn’t mean anything, but please try to believe me when I say that I am so sorry for everything you heard me say that night. A-After the accident, I-I didn’t know how to deal with a-a person like you, let alone the fact that I was your Father and you could protect yourself better than I could. It was hard to deal with the fact that my daughter was the Chosen One. The Slayer.” Hank’s voice took on a note of pleading during his apology, his hazel eyes appearing sad and Buffy started when his eyes flickered again when he called her the slayer, her stomach feeling as if housed hundreds of butterflies.

“Wait. The accident?!? What fight? What are you talking about?” Buffy stared at him, her angry eyes now tinged with confusion.

Hank started at her, unsure whether to believe her sudden amnesia. Hazel eyes locked with green. “You don’t remember? That last night I spent at home before the divorce? Before I moved to the apartment by my office?” His eyes searched her face intently, seeing general confusion, both of them locked into an uncomfortable silence.

“Well, it’s apparent she has no idea what you are referring to, so perhaps you could explain it to her,” Giles asked quietly, having finally stopped stirring his tea.

‘Y-Your mo-Joyce and I were fighting again. You had gotten into trouble in school again and you and your m-mom were fighting and you left. She had no idea where you were and we had no idea you had come home and crawled in through the basement and were listening. I went downstairs to get a drink because I was tired of the fighting and found you hiding beneath the stairs….” Hanks voice trailed off, his eyes still watching hers warily.

Buffy closed her eyes, the long-forgotten memory swirling through her mind, shrouded in darkness. Trying to remember, her stomach knotted up, forcing her to breathe shallowly, the blood draining from her face and forcing the plum-coloured bruise on her jaw to stand out even more.

“You accused me of hating you,” Hank continued quietly. “You thought I didn’t love you and was embarrassed by you and you tried to run up the stairs but I grabbed your arm and you slipped and you reached out to keep from falling and ended up cutting my cheek with your ring. I-I…then…you started shouting at me…”

Buffy squeezed her eyes closed even tighter, starting to rock back and forth slightly, her knotted stomach threatening to lose what little of the muffin and juice she had consumed earlier, the memory finally bursting through and allowing her to remember what she has buried so long ago.

“Buffy? Buffy what is it? Giles asked worriedly.

“Buffy?” Angel’s voice mimicked that of Giles and she felt his hand come to rest on her shoulder and she stopped rocking, opening her eyes to look directly at her father, pain etched on her features, tears shimmering in their green depths.

“My father is a vampire,” Buffy said quietly, not trusting her vocal chords not to support anything louder than a whisper. “That was the night I tried to kill him.”