“Going out tonight?” Joyce asked. She had a certain edge in her voice that clearly said that “yes” would not be the right answer to this question.
“I have to, mom. See, Giles has this thing where he wigs if I don’t patrol, and frankly, I don’t like it when Giles wigs. He gets really British and it’s hard to understand what he’s saying.” Buffy slung her bag of weapons over her shoulder and hesitantly gave her mom a hug. “But don’t worry. I’m sure that the vampire population will die down enough for us to enjoy a decent after dinner movie someday.”
“Be careful,” Joyce added reluctantly.
“I always am.” Buffy walked out the backdoor and made her way over to the nearest graveyard. She wandered among the gravestones and decided that nothing was stirring, so she turned in the general direction of the Bronze. That was enough patrolling for one night. Besides, she had told Xander, Willow and Oz that she’d meet them there.
As she was leaving, there was a rather suspicious-sounding ruffle noise coming from the bushes along the road. Taking out a stake, she walked stealthily toward the bushes, pausing right in beside them and preparing herself for battle.
A dark figure immerged from the bushes and tackled her wholeheartedly. The impact made Buffy lose her stake, and she found herself being pinned down by the most obscure-looking demon she’d ever encountered. Even at this close proximity, the demon’s face wasn’t visible; it appeared to have some haze around it or something. “You know, I’m not really one for blind dates,” she quipped. “They always try to jump you.” She gave it a headbutt, and she was back in control.
Giving the demon a few punches in the face and a turning kick or two to the torso area, it seemed to be an easy battle. She brought herself out of a twirl of some kind to find that the demon was not in the same area it had been a minute ago. Suddenly, she found herself being pinned down again, this time with her face being pushed into the ground. It must have tackled her from behind, but there was no way it could have gotten behind her. In this position, Buffy had no way to defend herself. She rocked back and forth in a feeble attempt to throw it off, but no luck. It was a strong little bugger. The demon proceeded to bite a chunk out of her shoulder. She found herself in considerable pain and screamed.
Buffy heard another presence arrive swiftly. The weight was taken off her back and she rolled over in agony. As the world faded steadily into black, she saw the demon fleeing away from her rescuer, apparently not terribly pleased.
***
Giles was sitting on his sofa reading up on his demon lore and enjoying an excellent cup of tea when abrupt knocking at his door startled him out of his lovely abyss. More annoyed than anything, he put down his tea and his book and went to open the door.
His annoyance deepened into anger when he saw Angel at the door, but the anger almost immediately gave way to concern when he noticed an unconscious and bleeding Buffy in his arms.
“May I come in?” Angel asked, out of politeness only.
“Yes, do.” Giles moved the table away from the sofa for Angel to place Buffy on and went to fetch his first aid equipment. He returned with a great deal of gauze and other lovely injury-related items of the sort. “What kind of demon?” he asked with the knowing assumption.
“I’m not sure. It seems slightly familiar to me, but I can’t place it. It was tricky; I lost track of it for a second. Can I help?” Angel responded. He gestured at Buffy’s shoulder with the question.
“No, you’ve done enough, I think.” Angel couldn’t tell if this comment was sarcastic or not. Giles was still clearly angry about the way Angel killed his girlfriend and tortured him a few months ago when Angel lost his soul, and rightfully so. The tone of his voice suggested sincerity, though, but whether it was sincerity simply out of concern for Buffy or for gratefulness that Angel thought to bring her to Giles instead of trying to take care of her himself wasn’t the easiest thing to tell. “There doesn’t seem to be any venom around the wound, but it still surprises me that Buffy fell unconscious. It isn’t like her. What did the demon look like, exactly?”
“The body looked human,” Angel responded. “It must have been human at one point. It had a sort of mist around its head, and judging by the amount of flesh he pulled away from Buffy’s shoulder, I seriously doubt this was a human or even a vampire attack.”
“A mist around its head? That sounds familiar indeed… here, if you would…” Giles hesitated only for a moment before he gave the bandage to Angel as a gesture that he finish wrapping up Buffy’s shoulder. Despite Angel’s behavior in the past, Giles knew Angel wouldn’t dream of drinking Buffy’s blood now that he’s got his soul back.
Giles leafed through the book he’d been reading before the interruption for any indication of the description, but he found nothing. Giles dropped the book and ran his fingers through his hair impatiently. That feature, the mist-around-the-head… he knew he’d read it recently. The information seemed terribly fresh in his mind. Racking his brain but coming up with no result, Giles sighed and finished his cup of tea.
“You’ll want to stay with Buffy, I assume?” Giles asked Angel with only minor resistance.
“Of course I do, but if you prefer that I leave, I understand,” Angel responded.
Giles sighed. “No, stay. I’ll be up all night researching anyway; perhaps you could be of help. First, though, I should call Buffy’s mother and inform her of Buffy’s whereabouts…” Giles paused. “You could make a pot of tea, if it isn’t a bother.”
***
Joyce was sitting at the kitchen counter, pretending to read the paper while actually staring at the back door, waiting apprehensively for her daughter’s return. This whole slayer thing was so … weird. All the trouble Buffy had been in, all the times she’d snuck out or skipped school… it was all to save the world. Nearly everything throughout the past three years had been done out of goodness instead of out of rebellion. No matter how many times Joyce went through it, it all seemed foreign to her. She supposed it always would be.
The phone brought Joyce out of her stupor quite effectively. After catching her breath, she got up to pick up the phone. “Buffy?” she asked.
“No, Ms. Summers, it’s…*ahem*… it’s Rupert Giles.”
Anxiety settled into Joyce’s voice instantly. Ever since they’d eaten the cursed candy bars circling town, things had been awkward between them. “Mr. Giles, hello. Buffy’s out on patrol… I can tell her to stop by your place when she returns, if you’d like.”
“Actually, I was calling you to let you know that Buffy ran into a demon during her hunt that she’s never encountered before. She seems to be on a power mission to find out what it is, so she… er… she asked me to call you so you didn’t worry.”
Giles could sense the doubt in Joyce’s next words. “Oh. She’s all right, then?”
“Yes, quite,” he responded awkwardly.
“Well, all right, then. Will… she be home tonight?”
Giles tried to pace his answer. “No, I don’t think so. The demon we encountered sounds fairly rare, so it should take quite some time to find out about. When she is ready to come home, I’ll drive her.”
Silence on the other end. Perhaps Giles had answered too quickly after all. At last, Joyce said, “All right, well, as long as she isn’t a bother.”
Trying to hold back a massive sigh of relief, Giles finished the conversation as quickly as possible. “No, never a bother. Sleep well. Bye, now.”
Joyce hung up the phone and sat back at the counter with her face in her hands. No, she’d never get used to this.
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