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PART 11 "We need to talk," Joyce said, pushing her way past him into his apartment. "Yes. Please, do come in," Giles said drolly, looking out onto his patio before he closed the door. "Where's Buffy?" "She's at home. I needed to speak with you privately. She thinks I'm out getting lunch, so I don't have long," Joyce said. Releasing a deep breath, she sat down carefully on his couch and stared down at her folded hands. "I've made a decision… about Buffy's future." "Her future?" Giles asked, stunned. "Already? Joyce, she's been back for less than two days. Perhaps, she should–" "No! I'm her mother and I'm charged with caring for her. I've already talked to Hank.... Buffy is…. We're moving back to Los Angeles this afternoon. I'm between shows at the moment and Amber can handle the new installation…. I- Hank has agreed to let us stay with him until we evaluate her mental state… figure out what to do. I'm not sure how to explain the accent," Joyce laughed hysterically. "But that's the least of my worries. Buffy needs quality health care and she needs to be away from–" "Are you mad? You can't possibly be serious! You're going to institutionalize her?" "Don't you talk to me like that!" Joyce snapped. "She needs help… *objective* help – people who can care for her and help her get better! She needs one-on-one, *objective*-" "Joyce, please," Giles continued, desperate, sitting himself across from her and taking her hands. "*Please*. I beg you to reconsider. Think about it. You take Buffy for help. You take Buffy to a counselor. What are they going to talk about?" Joyce's eyes filled with defeat as she considered his question. "Vampires," she whispered, tears beginning to flow down her face. "I don't know what else to do. She's afraid of me! She's… she's not my daughter. Rupert, she's *so* different and she doesn't know me. She just doesn't know me and I don't know what to do. What do I do, Rupert? How do I help her?" Giles placed a comforting hand on her arm. "Joyce, listen to me. All you need do…. You take care of her, Joyce. You let her take the lead while offering compassion and understanding. She's had… Joyce, her experiences there were quite… horrifying. I– Well, it's not my story to tell and I'm sure Buffy will tell you when she is ready but suffice it to say I'm truly amazed she's as mentally healthy as she is. She's had… well, to say a 'rough trot' would be horribly understating things." Giles released her arm and leaned back into the couch, retrieving a handkerchief from his pocket and then handing it to her. For about the fourth time since Buffy's return, he wished desperately for a glass of single malt. A *large* one. "She's… it's going to be an adjustment process. For both of you. She's… she's a strong girl but you're right. She's not your daughter… or at least not the daughter you had six weeks ago. Remember, Joyce. It's been twenty-three *years* for her… more than half her life. And Angel.... For the past eight months of it – like it or not, Joyce – Angel has been all she's known. And, again, like it or not, their return to Earth has meant he's been ripped from her side. They were a couple there, living as husband and wife, and he… while not perfect… genuinely cares for her and wants what's best for her–" Joyce snorted. "If he wants what's best for her, then he shouldn't be still trying to have any kind of relationship with her…." "See, that's where you are wrong. Now, don't misunderstand me. I no more approve of their relationship than you, but I firmly believe he would never knowingly hurt her. The events of last year… the incredibly… *tragic* events… were no more his fault than my own. Angel, himself, has never done anything other than support her both emotionally and in her slaying duties. And, well, if Angel's been coming round, I believe it's likely because as much as he'd like to see her, he knows she *needs* to see him." "I just-" "Joyce, he's all she's ever known of this world. The night they returned, Angel told me what she remembered while she was there… it amounted to little but she did remember him. She didn't believe it *was* him when they were reunited but she did remember him… not the entirety of their relationship, but who he was and that he cared for her and protected her. "I think – well, I think you are going to have to be more accepting of Angel in your lives at least for the time being. I think, at this point, to expect Buffy to just give him up… well, I think it would be very bad for her – for her state of mind. This is a major adjustment for her. If you imagine, as I have been, that she is someone who looks like Buffy but, in fact, is a distant relative who has never been to this part of the world… I think it is easier to understand that her frame of reference… well, she has no frame of reference. "It's going to take time," he continued, again, leaning forward and patting her arm. "Just – give her time. And I'm always a phone call away if you need another one of those," he said, gesturing to the handkerchief she now twisted in her hands. "Or, even better, a stiff drink." Joyce looked at him - shocked - before they both burst into laughter. Yes, a tough adjustment for all of them. *** When Joyce returned home, the house was silent. Panicked, she quickly ran through the house, her breath calming only slightly when she found Buffy sound asleep on her bed. Looking down at her, in her blue sack of a dress, clutching a weathered leather book close to her heart like a security blanket, it was easy to imagine Buffy as a distant relative who had never been to America before. If she were Buffy, she'd be terrified. Particularly if her mother were trying to take away the one thing she knew. Joyce realized that Rupert was right and that she'd have to, at least for the time being, accept Angel in their lives. That said, she really didn't like it. She'd always wanted, like every parent, to give her daughter the world… a good education and healthy upbringing, which would hopefully set her on the path to creating a happy career, marriage and family of her own. Joyce's heart sank as she realized that even if she were to take Angel out of the equation, the Watchers had very likely taken those opportunities away from Buffy. Would she ever adjust? Would she ever be able to have what she deserved? With a deep sigh, she pulled her mother's afghan over her daughter and quietly closed the door leaving Buffy to her rest. *** "Hey, Buffy!" Willow said awkwardly. "Can I come in?" Buffy seemed to hesitate but after a moment stepped away from the Summers' front door. "Okay. Plihz come een… *ihn*. Come ihn." Willow smiled brilliantly. For the past two weeks, she'd been trying to befriend Buffy again. She'd been reluctant at first, not wanting to do the wrong thing or to pressure her, but Angel had confidentially insisted that Buffy needed her and if Buffy needed her, then she was there. She'd been trying to bring things she knew Buffy had liked in the past when she visited. Some things - like chocolate - were a hit, and others just didn't seem to interest her at all. 'The Princess Bride' seemed to completely bore her, which was weird since they'd seen it over Christmas break and had been saying 'As you wish' to each other almost up to the day she'd been kidnapped. But, then again, to Buffy that was like twenty-three years ago. It was so strange… the time "difference." Despite the fact that Willow saw Buffy almost every day, she missed *Buffy*. She'd missed her when she was gone, but it was even worse now that she was back. She and Oz were getting closer and were talking about making love. Willow had really *really* wanted to talk to Buffy about it but Buffy was so… remote from her, Willow had actually broached the subject with Cordelia. Oddly enough, it seemed to help things between Willow and Cordy – Willow suspected because Cordy no longer perceived her as a threat. That said, things were still weird. Cordy was not, and would never be her best friend, even if the Xander/Willow situation had never happened. She just hoped that as time passed and Buffy came back to school - as Buffy had, terrified, told Willow her mother wanted her to do - that things would go back to the way they were. Willow wasn't sure of the decision for Buffy to go back to school so soon. Her lack of memory notwithstanding, her accent… people were going to notice her accent. Plus her complete change of wardrobe (Buffy was still only wearing her Betharan clothes, much to her Mom's obvious frustration and Cordy's rather vocal dismay) and dramatically different hairstyle were going to set off some alarm bells. Still, when Buffy had confided that her mother wanted her to go back to school and how nervous she was about it, Willow had promised to help make it as painless as possible. Starting with the aforementioned accent. "I'm here for English lessons! Is this a good time?" Willow asked brightly, pulling a giant Hershey bar out of her bag. Buffy nodded and eyed the candy bar. "I try to rihd book you gehv - *gave* … me. It is hard!" Buffy said softly with a nervous laugh. "But, I like … subjeck!" She turned and began to lead Willow up to her room. Willow followed, smiling broadly. They were reading Laurell Hamilton. She figured Buffy would like a vampire novel. "Well, let's start there. You're probably doing better than you think! Tell me what you thought so far." *** Joyce's jaw dropped when the girls came downstairs. A nervous, newly blonde Buffy descended the stairs wearing a thick white long-sleeved sweater, floor length peasant skirt and her Betharan boots. Not exactly a typical-teenager outfit but Joyce was pleased to finally see her again in Earth clothing. Cordelia's brow was furrowed as if considering what other changes could be made within Buffy's limits. Willow just smiled brilliantly and looked pleased with herself. "Doesn't she look great?!" Willow encouraged. "Honey, you look gorgeous!" Instinctively, she walked towards her daughter to give her a congratulatory hug, stopping in her tracks when she saw Buffy bristle at the possibility of physical contact. "Well, girls," Joyce said, determined to play 'normal.' "Are you ready for dinner? I made Lasagna!" "Ooo, thank you! I love Lasagna! And that's your favorite, right, Buffy?" Cordelia gushed, clearly working at being supportive. Buffy frowned. "I think you'll like it Buffy. You used to. And if you don't, well, we've got other things too," Joyce said, a little too brightly. "We should eat now, though, girls. Buffy and I need to get down to the Gallery. The opening starts at 8:00 and Amber's doing the final prep, but still, it's not fair to leave her with everything. Shall we?" Joyce gestured to the dining room and out of the corner of her eye saw Buffy's hesitation. She was torn between wanting Buffy to get out more and back into her old life and hoping desperately she wasn't pushing her too much. Tonight was Buffy's first foray into a non-slaying-related social situation. Joyce hoped to God bringing her to the opening was a good move. Hoped to *God*. *** "Angel, thank you for coming," Joyce said, hoping she sounded sincere. The words had barely left her mouth when a brilliantly smiling Buffy materialized next to him, and barreled into his arms. "Wow! You look beautiful!" Angel said, clearly surprised by her transformation. "So do you!" she said, awed, reaching up to stroke his now clean shaven cheek. She pulled him into her arms again and he hugged her briefly before releasing her with a quick kiss, taking her hand and politely responding to Joyce's earlier greeting. "Thank you, Mrs. Summers, for inviting me. This is quite the collection. Is the artist present this evening?" Small talk. She could do that. "Yes, he's over by the sculpture – in the corner? Why don't you both take a look around and I'll be sure to introduce you before you go. Ugh...I'm so sorry – I see Ryan Tierney from the Times. I have to speak with him. Will you be okay, sweetie?" At Buffy's smiling nod, she left them, getting completely caught up in the chaos of the opening. It was a typical affair: lots of schmoozing, lots of narcissistic self-congratulations and thankfully several of the more expensive pieces sold. Bertrand was a success – her gamble on him had really paid off. She'd done her best to keep an eye on Buffy. With mixed feelings, she realized she was deeply thankful that Angel had arrived at the beginning of the show and stayed with Buffy the entire time. At one point, she saw that Buffy was even talking to some guests a little. Her accent had lessened a bit – the product of Willow's and Angel's English lessons no doubt. They'd concocted a lame cover story that Buffy had lived abroad when she was young and had never lost her accent. Hopefully no one would question it. After an hour and a half, the party was still going strong and Joyce could see Buffy growing tired. Immensely proud of her daughter, she broke away from her client and crossed to where Buffy and Angel were talking quietly in the corner. "Honey, if you want to go, it's okay with me," Joyce said approaching them. Buffy's face lit up for a moment before a guilty frown crossed her face. "It okay… Joyce. We okay." Joyce chuckled at her completely ineffective lie. "Really. I know you two probably want to get out of here. Angel, please don't keep her out late, okay?" Joyce said, a warning clear in her voice. Don't be too happy. Don't let your guard down. Don't *don’t* let me lose my daughter again. "I promise, Mrs. Summers. We'll be careful. Right, love?" Buffy smiled brilliantly at her. "Thanks… Joyce and … congahrtulation on you show. And Angel and me, we be careful, okay?" Joyce did her best to hide her desperate desire to hug her daughter and just smiled and nodded and elicited a promise to be awakened when Buffy returned home. *** Buffy was winning and Angel, well, wasn't. "Dat's tree for me. You sure you not letting me win? You promise?" Angel swept vamp dust off his black pants. "Positive, love. Buffy, three. Angel, two. But… the night is young," he leered, leaning in toward her. "You may be leading but you haven't won yet." "Ha! Dri kelma'a tarna, okay?" Buffy said, laughing. "We'll see about that," Angel teased, grabbing her hand and turning toward the darker part of the cemetery. "Buffy," he said more seriously as they strolled, "You look.… I know we agreed not to talk about these things but I wanted to say, well…. You look really beautiful to-" "Engel!" Buffy whispered, her smile immediately dying as she stopped in her tracks. "You hear dat? Shelna tarak'na." He could definitely hear someone crying. "Behind the crypt," he said quietly, releasing her hand and quietly following her around the monument. "Careful, love." He'd no sooner rounded the corner when something flew out at him and tackled him to the ground. A stake barely missed his heart, embedding in the mud beside him due only to Buffy's quick reaction to the danger. "Fait'! What you doing? T'rah! Fait', what happen to you? You okay?" Buffy knelt by her sister Slayer who was curled on her side in a fetal position, rocking herself and sobbing. "Fait'? What is it? What happen? Whatever is – it is – we help you, okay? Right, Engel?" Angel stared at Faith with a curious look on his face – doubt, loss, disbelief, dread. Buffy knew that face. It never meant anything good. "Faith, look at me," he said, kneeling beside her and gently taking her shoulders. "Faith, I need you to look at me." Faith curled tighter into a ball and sobbed even harder. "Leave it, Angel," she moaned. "Just leave it. Leave me be." Angel kept his gentle grip on her. "Not gonna happen, Faith. I need you to talk to me. And we need to talk to Giles." Faith suddenly sprang up to standing, knocking Angel onto his ass. "I said LEAVE IT! Go away, Angel. I'm *fine*. Just leave it. Having a bad night that's all." "Fait'. You bleeding. Engel, she is bleeding." Buffy gasped, seeing for the first time the state of Faith's shirt and hands. "It's not her blood, Buffy. Is it, Faith?" Angel said, his eyes completely focused on Faith. "I'll kill you, motherfucker. I'll kill you both! Leave me the fuck alone!" Turning, Faith ran out of the cemetery. "Engel!" Buffy said, jumping up and trying to drag him with her. "We need get her. Engel –" "We need to go see Giles," he said quietly. Buffy looked unsure for a moment – go get Faith, go with Angel - but then nodded and pulled him to standing. Holding her hand tightly, he led her quickly out of the cemetery. *** "You think this hasn't happened before?" Giles said, resigned, worried, pouring himself a stiff drink, then reconsidering and pouring Angel one, and then further reconsidering and pouring a small one for Buffy as well. It wasn't as if she were underage – not anymore. "What do we do?" Angel asked, accepting the glass and taking a considerable draught before setting it down on the coffee table. "What you mean, what we do? Fait' couldn't…. I'm sure she not mean it, Giles. I'm sure it mistake. Right, Engel?" "It.. well, it doesn't matter, Buffy," Angel began. "Here – well, there are processes. When people commit a crime, they are put on trial and–" "No! No! You not do dat to her! No!" Buffy screamed, flying from the couch toward the door. "Buffy! Buffy, wait! That's not–" Angel vaulted over the couch, intercepting her at the door and gently taking her shoulders. "Love, that's NOT what I meant." He pulled her to him and held her tightly. "No one will do that to her. I *promise* you. I *promise*. Right, Giles?" "Well… yes…. Right," Giles stammered, stunned by her sudden outburst. Although, in her world, that's what punishment was. Horrified, he downed his drink, poured himself another, carefully considered his words and then continued. "Typically, one must go through the Council but, well, given their… recent actions, we must, er, consider other steps." Buffy was clinging to Angel tightly, shuddering. Angel rubbed her back and caught Giles' eyes over her shoulder. This was too much for her. Giles remained silent, drinking… can't get too drunk… have to deal with Faith… until she calmed and they pulled away from one another. Angel pushed her hair away from her face, whispered, "Are you okay?" She nodded and turned to Giles. "I'm sorry," she whispered, sheepishly. "It's, er, it's quite all right, Buffy," Giles said sadly. "It's perfectly understandable…." Think, man. Help her. "Buffy, dear, I'm very cold suddenly. Would you mind terribly.... Could you please fetch my grey jumper – sweater – from my room? It should be somewhere in the chest of drawers." Buffy looked at him suspiciously. "Giles–" "Please, Buffy. I'm really quite cold. I'd appreciate it." "Oookay," Buffy said with a quick glance at Angel. She ran up the stairs. Angel looked at Giles purposefully. "She'll be fast so tell me quickly." "We need to find the body and, well, get rid of it. I think it needs to be you as you have no, well, fingerprints and such on file… since you don't 'officially' exist. Can you do that?" "Of course." "And we need to find Faith and get her back here. We need to make sure that she's protected as soon as possible." "How do you propose we do that?" "I don't really know. She's staying here. I suppose she'll have to come back at some point, right? I'd prefer not to wait, though." Angel frowned for a moment. "I think – well, if Buffy's home I should be able to hone in on Faith's… 'Slayer' and locate her that way. And, to be honest Giles, it would be easier to find her first. We don't know who it was she killed, I don't know where the body is…. For all we know the person's alive… although given her state…." He ran a hand through his hair. "What I'm trying to say is we really know nothing. Let me just–" He plastered on a smile as Buffy came running down the stairs, blue jumper in hand. "Hey! I was just telling Giles that it's getting late and I promised your mother I'd get you home before morning. Are you ready to go?" Buffy handed Giles his jumper. "I not find grey so I bring dis. What about Fait'? You not telling me?" She said, her voice full of suspicion. "I'll tell you on the way home, okay?" Angel said lightly, kissing her forehead. After a moment, she nodded and Angel led her out, glancing back over his shoulder at Giles and nodding. He'd get it done. *** It had been a rough week. Disposing of the body had been dicey; the victim was the mayor's assistant, Alan Finch, and he'd barely gotten the guy out of there before twenty cops had arrived on the scene. So far, nothing had tied Faith to the body. And that was how it was going to stay. He didn't like that Faith couldn't somehow make restitution through the usual channels but he understood that this was the way things had to be. Since the death of Kendra, the Slayer line had run through Faith. Buffy had died numerous times on Bethara and yet there were no extra Slayers on Earth to show for it. According to Giles, no matter the dimension, a Slayer killed in the line of duty would 'call' another and, thereafter, the line would run through the subsequent Slayer, no matter the status of the 'original' one. So Faith would live free – would have to *be* free… or as free as she was able to be. Angel knew a thing or two about inner demons and knew that she had a long way to go to begin to get past her guilt and lead some sort of happy life – if she were ever able to have that again. The first thirty-six hours had been the worst; he'd finally locked himself and Faith in Giles' bedroom, determined to get through her bravado to the deep pain she had to have been feeling. She'd insisted she was fine... tried to seduce him more than once…. They'd spent the balance of the time fighting with words, stray weapons and, sadly for Giles, some of his personal things, until she'd finally broken down and let him past her defenses, revealing a desolate, deeply hurting girl underneath all her bluster. "So, the plan is to follow Faith and make sure she's all right," Angel said as he and Buffy walked hand in hand toward St. Michael's Cemetery. "I agree with Giles that she's ready to be slaying on her own again, but without us there…. We both just felt better if for the next day or two, you and I shadowed her a bit. Make sure she's on her game… make sure she's being safe." "Okay," Buffy said, giving his hand a squeeze. "But won't she know we're following close behind? I mean, Slayer sense and all. If she can't sense me, she *will* sense you. You know this." "English, sweetie," Angel said, stopping for a moment and turning her towards him, placing his hands gently on her waist and kissing the tip of her nose. "Try and stick to English. The only way you'll get better is–" "I know, I know," she said sheepishly, in English. "I jus' … ever'thing take so long to say. I get tired. I'm sorry." "I know, love," he said with a reassuring smile, walking again and crossing the street to approach the entrance to the graveyard. "It *will* get better. I promise you…. Have I told you how proud I am of you? Of how far you've come in only four weeks?" Buffy blushed and smiled broadly. "Thank you. I am glad–" She halted as his hand tightened on her arm and followed him into the shrubs ringing the outside of the cemetery walls. Faith was strolling about one hundred feet away, drumming her stake against her palm. She looked agitated… like a bomb with a very short fuse. Buffy held her breath when Faith whirled around and stared for a moment at the bushes behind which they hid before shaking her head and turning and continuing her "rounds" of the cemetery. Two vamps came out behind Faith and were approaching silently to where she strolled, oblivious to them. She wasn't sensing them; she was distracted. Buffy began to leave their cover to go help but was stopped by Angel's hand on her arm. "We need to let her figure this out, okay, love? We'll keep a close eye on her and jump in as needed but let's let her do this alone. She won't get hurt; we won't let her. I promise, okay?" Buffy stared at Faith who had now become aware of the threat and turned and was fighting with a vengeance. She was a little 'off her game' but was definitely keeping the upper hand in the fight. Buffy nodded in response to Angel's statement yet kept her eyes trained on Faith, determined to enter the battle at the first sign of trouble. Four more vamps approached Faith and Buffy was setting off to help when a vague rustling noise caused her to whirl around. She and Angel were being surrounded by their own cadre of six vampires, all working as a unit to try and take the two of them down. Frustrated and worried that she had to look away from Faith, she began to fight the vamps with everything she had, quickly dispatching two, only to be exasperated when two more ran from the trees and entered the fight in place of their two fallen brothers. The vamps were all very large and excellent fighters and Buffy quickly began to tire. She realized quickly that, super-strength notwithstanding, she was not in peak condition – having only begun to slay in earnest again over the past few weeks – and that her stamina was not really up to a fight of this level. She managed to kill two more but, finding herself winded after being thrown yet another time into the side of the fence, she was greatly relieved when Angel managed to slay the remaining four of them quickly using one of the vamps' swords. A vamp with a sword? She lay on the ground for a moment catching her breath. Angel, exhausted, stood protectively at her side as he himself took a moment to rest. "Oh, Gawd. Fait'," Buffy said, standing quickly when she realized she could no longer hear Faith's fight. They both ran quickly into the cemetery to where Faith had been fighting the vamps. There was no sign of her. *** "She's gone. She was surrounded by six vamps and then Buffy and I were surrounded…. Buffy and I did a quick search but she's definitely not in St. Michael's. We saw nothing and certainly didn't sense anything. I need you to organize a search party and I'd prefer if it didn't involve Willow or Cordelia. We're talking a lot of vamps, Giles. Big ones. I don't want them at risk…. I don't want *anyone* at risk but there's too much territory to cover. As it is, I need to go and continue–" Buffy shifted anxiously from foot to foot. This telephoning was taking too long. Faith was *missing*. The question was why? No one knew what had happened with the Mayor's assistant, unless…. "Engel! ENGEL! We haf to go. It – De Council. I think de Council haf her." Angel stopped talking and, wide-eyed, stared down at a panicked, teary-eyed Buffy clutching his arm. He swallowed, nodded and continued into the telephone. "Giles, listen to me. Buffy thinks the Council has Faith and I - We need to find her Giles. No Willow or Cordelia. Just organize and start checking. We're at St. Michael's… we'll do Cedars, St. Ann's and… and we'll do Sunnyrest. I have a feeling.… We'll do Sunnyrest first – it was Sunnyrest before… I have a feeling there's a portal there. Gotta go." Hanging up the telephone quickly, he took Buffy's hand and they began to run.
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