Disclaimer: The characters we all know and love from BtVS belong to the Great God Joss. I'm just playing in his back yard for a bit. Also, you'll probably recognize the stuff from various episodes in the flashback scenes. (muchos gracias to AleXander for his wonderful work on the Transcripts available on the Slayerfanfic Archive) Feedback: Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated at tjthw8s@telusplanet.net. I'll even read flames, but don't expect a reply to combustable messages.
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Angel kept to the shadows as he silently patrolled the night streets of Sunnydale, following Buffy's usual route. He didn't really mind hunting in her stead while she was grounded. But sometimes he felt a little uncomfortable doing it. Even if his targets were vampires and not humans, the thrill of the chase appealed too strongly to the demon he constantly fought to control.
His head snapped up and his game face slid into place momentarily. The faint breeze carried a familiar scent; one that would be undetectable to a human. The bloodlust pheromone markers of a hunting vampire. Angel quickened his pace slightly. He was getting closer. And even if this chase ended with the dust of a staked vampire, a successful conclusion would help appease the demon in him.
* * *
The Gallery- 8:15 pm
Joyce Summers wearily locked the front door, glad this day was almost over. The unexpected arrival this afternoon of several new pieces for the Gallery had complicated her day far more than she'd realized. Updating the inventory list and trying to plan arrangements to show the new pieces had taken her a little longer than she'd allowed for. And her arms and shoulders ached from the shuffling and maneuvering she'd been doing since closing at six.
All Joyce wanted right now was to get home and fall into a nice, hot bath.
Head down, her hand fishing in her purse for the keys to her Jeep, Joyce walked to the parking lot beside the Gallery. The hand grabbing her roughly as she passed the edge of the building came as a rude shock. Her assailant jolted her into the shadow of a dumpster along the side wall of the building and shoved her violently against the cinder blocks.
Joyce screamed, her eyes relaying to her terrified mind the grotesque, distorted face of her attacker as his hand locked around her throat.
"Hardly enough to share," growled a voice from a second thug emerging from the shadows, "Couldn't you have found a meal that wasn't so skinny?"
"We can always go looking for seconds," Joyce's attacker replied, "The night has just begun."
Joyce struggled feebly, both hands desperately trying to peel away the hand holding her throat in a vise-like grip. Her heart pounded in her chest, her lungs burned as the choke hold cut off her breathing. Her vision started greying out, stars appearing in her narrowing field of view.
A faint roar penetrated to her fading consciousness and the hand at her throat disappeared. Joyce fell to her knees, gasping. Her chest heaving, great ragged breaths sucked desperately into her lungs, Joyce was only faintly aware of the sounds of a violent fight going on just a few feet away.
"Here!" a vaguely familiar voice commanded, thrusting a long pointed piece of wood into her hands.
Joyce looked up as her rescuer was tackled by one of her assailants, the two men rolling into parking lot. She jumped to her feet with a small shriek at the appearance of a dirty, worn pair of boots. Her back against the wall, she held the stake in front of her, its point the only available weapon at the moment. The man wearing the boots advanced, seemingly unconcerned by the point now only inches from the center of his chest. She turned her head frantically, looking for an escape route. Over the shoulder of the man in front of her, Joyce saw her rescuer launch a spinning kick at the other thug, sending him reeling into the first one.
The impact was hard enough to impale both men on the stake in her hands, crushing Joyce against the wall briefly. Both men suddenly vanished in a cloud of dust. Joyce's eyes almost bugged out of her skull in disbelief. The stake fell from her numb hands as her arms dropped to her sides.
Angel paused, slightly taken aback by the sudden end to the fight. The demon in him screamed for blood, focusing on the pounding heartbeat and the fear radiating from the woman Angel had just saved. He fought back the urge to kill, to feed, with some difficulty.
[Have to remember to feed *before* I go patrolling for Buffy,] he thought, [Or one of these nights I might get carried away.]
As Angel regained his control, his human face reasserting itself, he finally looked at the now-dusted vampires' intended meal. He barely managed to keep his jaw from hitting the pavement in surprise. The Fates must be indulging a really twisted sense of humour tonight.
"Are you okay?" Angel asked Joyce quietly.
The question rattled around in her mind for several seconds before its meaning penetrated her shock. Joyce lifted wide eyes from the pile of dust slowly settling onto the ground at her feet. The face of her rescuer was familiar.
"Come on," Angel said gently, "Let's get you home. I'll drive."
Angel quickly retrieved Joyce's fallen purse and keys. He guided her to her Jeep and settled her into the passenger seat. He crossed around to the driver's side and climbed in.
"You're Buffy's friend," Joyce said as he started the engine, "Angel, isn't it?"
"Uh hunh," he replied, putting the Jeep in gear and driving into the street.
Silence descended as Joyce's shocked mind tried to come to grips with the attack. Angel glanced at her pale face a few times as he drove to Revello Drive, grateful that she didn't ask any more questions.
[Damn!] he thought, [This is a Hell of a mess. Explanations are going to be tough. And Buffy'll probably go postal when she finds out her mother was attacked. Again.]
* * *
Buffy's room
"...When I killed the Mother Bazoar, all the hatchlings must have died as well," Buffy said, pacing around her room, "By the time I climbed back out of the hole in the floor, everybody was passed out on the floor. And all the little wigglers must have just let you go and you all collapsed. Giles came up with the 'gas leak' story. Not bad for the spur of the moment, but if anybody starts really remembering stuff...."
Willow lay on Buffy's bed, listening as the Slayer went over the same ground again. Willow was sympathetic to Buffy's worries over her mother's nightmares, but this was the fourth or fifth time Buffy had gotten herself wound up since the two girls had arrived at Buffy's house. And again, Willow tried to deflect Buffy's train of thought before she made herself so tense she started bouncing off the walls.
"I think the girls will probably pass it off as just bad dreams," Willow offered, "After all, they said they only had a couple and that they couldn't really remember what they were about."
"But what about my Mom?" Buffy asked, still worried, "What if her nightmares keep coming? What am I going to tell her if we have to try and explain what really happened?"
"Maybe we won't have to," Willow suggested, "All the girls stopped having them. Maybe Giles is right, she's just having a stronger reaction because she's the only one who's a Mom."
"I hope so, Will," Buffy said, "I really do. But I'm still worried."
Buffy's pacing led her back to her window. She glanced out just as the headlights of her mother's car turned into the driveway.
"She's home. Will, I..." Buffy chopped herself off as she saw her mother climb out of the *passenger* side. Her jaw dropped when Angel got out of the driver's side.
She didn't have time to wonder why Angel had driven her mother home. Three vampires rushed from the bushes. Buffy flipped open her trunk of Slayer supplies that sat under the window, quickly grabbed a pair of stakes and launched herself out the window onto the porch roof.
Willow hurried from her position on Buffy's bed to the window. She saw Buffy leap from the porch roof as two vampires attacked Angel and the other went for Buffy's Mom. In the light of the streetlights, she could see the third vampire's face. Lyle Gorch. Willow grabbed a weapon from Buffy's trunk and ran to the stairs.
* * *
"Well now, little lady," Lyle Gorch sneered from behind Joyce, one arm wrapped around her throat, "I changed my mind. It's not over just yet."
Joyce stared at her daughter in disbelief. She'd seen, but couldn't accept, Buffy's leap off the porch roof. That had to be at least a fifteen foot drop, and Buffy had landed with a cat-like grace on the concrete walk. Barefoot. Joyce's eyes widened further when she saw the stakes Buffy held in each hand.
"Let her go!" Buffy commanded, stalking determinedly toward Lyle and her mother. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Angel holding his own against both of the other vamps. He looked like he was okay for now and she could concentrate on dealing with the remaining Gorch brother.
"Time for a little payback, Slayer," Lyle snarled, "You got my brother killed."
"If you two lame-brains hadn't come after me in the first place," Buffy retorted, "He wouldn't have gotten eaten by the Bazoar. So don't blame your stupidity on me. If you don't let my mother go right this second and get your sorry ass out of town, you are going to be *so* staked."
"Bring it on," Lyle growled, suddenly shoving Joyce, spinning her up against the side of the Jeep and leaping after Buffy.
Buffy, abandoning her usual pummel-them-stupid-first routine, met his attack with a flashing right, plunging the stake directly toward his heart. Her aim was knocked off target when one of Angel's attackers was sent crashing into her. The stake rammed into Lyle's stomach instead. He rolled sideways away from her left handed swipe, hissing in pain. Buffy kicked, catching the other vamp in the chin. Stunned, the vamp was an easy target.
Buffy turned from the cloud of dust to face Lyle again. Behind him, she could see Angel and the last vampire rolling together on the ground, neither able to gain an advantage. The brief distraction this caused allowed Lyle to pull the stake from his belly and renew his attack. Buffy saw stars from the haymaker he landed on her jaw. She staggered back a few steps before regaining her balance.
She met Lyle's predictable pursuit with a forceful kick, robbed of some of its effect by the fact that she was barefoot. But it was still enough to double him over, even without the benefit of a solid bootheel. Her right uppercut practically lifted him off his feet, sending him staggering. Buffy quickly stepped forward while he was still off-balance, her left hand rocketing out to bury her other stake in his chest.
Lyle Gorch vanished in an explosion of dust.
The snarling growls focused Buffy's attention on the last vampire, locked in a close struggle with Angel in the center of the front lawn. They stood practically toe to toe, both punching viciously. Neither one seemed the least concerned with any sort of defense, they were totally focused on the attack.
"Angel!" Willow shouted from the front doorway, "*DUCK*!"
Angel immediately dropped to the ground.
THWANG!!
Willow's aim with the crossbow was right on target and the last vampire dusted as the bolt thudded into his chest. Angel leapt to his feet, quickly scanning the area for any more vampires. Unfortunately, his game face was all too visible in the light of the streetlamps. Joyce fainted.
"Mom!" Buffy cried, rushing to her side.
Willow and Angel quickly joined her.
"I think she just fainted," Willow concluded after a brief examination.
"I'll get her inside," Angel offered, gently lifting Joyce in his arms and carrying her to the house.
He set her down gently on the living room couch while Willow went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
* * *
Consciousness slowly began to return to Joyce Summers. Mostly. The parts of her mind devoted to reason and logical explanations locked themselves behind a wall of denial, leaving the rest of her mind to process the evening's events on its own. Her ears reported hushed voices in an argument nearby.
"....Can't believe you let her see your game face, Angel," Buffy's voice accused, "That was incredibly sloppy."
"Heat of the battle," Angel said, "I didn't mean to. Sorry."
"Well, that's just great," Buffy groused.
"Buffy," Willow worried, "What are we going to do now? I mean, she *saw* you stake those vampires. And them turning to dust. What are we.....okay, what are *you* going to tell her?"
"She staked a couple herself earlier," Angel interjected, "Outside the Gallery. That's why I was giving her a drive home. She was too shocked to be behind the wheel."
"What?!?" Buffy shouted, quickly lowering her voice at Willow's shushing gesture, "What happened at the Gallery, Angel?"
Angel briefly recounted the events in the Gallery's parking lot.
"From the look on her face after," he concluded, "I though it best that she didn't drive, so I brought her home. Those vampires would have been bad enough without the instant replay on the lawn."
"So what do we do now?" Willow asked.
"I don't know," Buffy replied hesitantly, looking back around the edge of the opening into the living room, "I think I might just have to tell her everything, now. Damn! This is *so* not cool. I never wanted her involved....."
The argument trailed off as the voices faded, moving further into the hall. Memories surfaced in Joyce's mind. Certain baffling episodes in the past now starting to make a weird sort of sense.
Buffy's odd behaviour that morning last spring during Cheerleader tryouts:
/// Buffy entered the kitchen wearing her cheerleader outfit, bouncing and singing.
"Macho, macho, man! I want to be a macho man. Macho....Oh, hey, juice!" Buffy cut her serenade off, grabbing the glass and chugging down the juice, "Mmmm. Quality juice. Not from concentrate."
Joyce glanced up from slicing another orange.
"You're in a good mood," she remarked, placing another glass under the juicer's spout.
"I am," Buffy replied, "I'm on the squad, which is great 'cause I feel like cheering. And leading others to cheer. Oooo, hey, juice!"
Buffy grabbed the second glass and drank it quickly.
Joyce wondered a moment about her daughter's unusual morning cheer.
"Listen, honey, about yesterday. I really..." Joyce trailed off, not quite sure what she wanted to say.
"Mmm! That is totally yester," Buffy quipped, "Besides, it's not like you were wrong, y'know. I did get kicked outta school. I'm just wacky that way!"
"Still," Joyce said, unsure if Buffy really understood, "I just want you to know that, despite the problems you've had, I really..."
Buffy cut her off, "Mom, you just don't get it. And believe me, you don't want it. Y'know, there are just some things about being a Vampire Slayer that the older generation..."
"A *what*?" Joyce interrupted.
"It's a......long story," Buffy prevaricated./////
"Vampire Slayer?" Joyce's confused mind wondered briefly before another memory surfaced.
Parent Teacher Night:
////Joyce watched as Buffy grabbed the principal as he tried to force open a window.
"You can't go outside," Buffy insisted, "They'll kill you!"
"You don't tell me," Snyder retorted, practically snarling, "*I* tell *you*!"
Buffy hauled Snyder down from the chair, away from the window.
"They will kill everybody in this room," she persisted, deadly serious, "Nobody goes out, nobody comes in until *I* say so. Do you hear me?"
"Who do you think you are?" Snyder did snarl this time. And he wasn't the only one surprised by Buffy's forceful tone of voice.
"I'm the one that knows how to stop them," Buffy replied, not backing down an inch.///
///Later that evening, the people gathered in the science room stood away from the door as one of the 'gang' members tried to chop through it with an axe. He already had a hole made in the center of the door. Suddenly, there was a loud crash from the hallway. Joyce closed on the door and peered through the hole.
She couldn't see much through the small opening. But she did see a small, delicate hand raised, clutching a wooden stake. The hand plunged downward. Then Buffy's face suddenly appeared.////
Then there was that bit at the mall last week:
///"Let me guess," Joyce said, a little annoyed with Buffy for forgetting about the dress, "You were distracted by a boy."
"Technically," Buffy replied, fiddling with her hands and not meeting her mother's eyes.
"A little responsibility is all I ask. Honestly, don't you think about anything besides clothes and boys?" Joyce demanded, exasperated.
"Saving the world from vampires?" Buffy answered.///
Joyce slowly opened her eyes and sat up. Her rational mind was still refusing to accept what the rest of it was trying to tell her. And the all too vivid memories of tonight's experiences.
[Vampires?] she thought, [It's not possible. There can't be real vampires, can there?]
* * *
In the hall, Buffy came to a decision.
"I'm calling Giles," she told Angel and Willow, "Get him to come over and bring that book on the Bazoar. Maybe something Watchery, too. I think it's time my Mom found out the truth."
"The Bazoar?" Willow asked.
"Yeah," Buffy replied, "What happened tonight is probably cause enough for nightmares, I don't want her having to deal with vague memories of the Bazoar, too. You said you haven't had one since Xander and I explained everything. Maybe Mom will stop having hers if we just tell her the truth about last week."
"Are you sure about this, Buffy?" Angel asked, "Telling her the *whole* truth."
"There is that," Buffy conceded, "I suppose we could leave out some of our past adventures. And Robot Ted is definitely off limits, Will. Let's just stick to the basics. It's bad enough that I'll have to tell her all about being the Slayer, I don't know how to explain that my boyfriend is a vampire on top of everything else. Especially since Giles will probably hit the 'vampires-are-demons-creatures-of- pure-evil' note fairly hard."
"We could always use Cordelia's line," Willow offered.
"Hunh?" Buffy wondered.
"You remember," Willow said, "Halloween, when you told her he was one and she didn't really believe it at first. I know she was being sarcastic when she said it, but she was kind of right, wasn't she?"
"What are you talking about?" Angel asked.
"Oh, right, Will. I'd forgotten that," Buffy added, "The 'kind of like a Care Bear with fangs' line."
"What?" Angel demanded, confused.
"You explain it to him, Will," Buffy instructed, "I have to call Giles. Now"
"Well, you see...."
Buffy tuned out Willow's explanation to Angel. She picked up the phone and dialed Giles' number, again checking on her mother around the edge of the wall. Her eyes were still closed and she appeared to be resting comfortably. But Buffy was worried. Well, more like totally freaked by tonight's unwelcome complications.
[Giles is *so* not gonna like this,] Buffy thought as she waited for him to answer.
"Hello?" Giles' voice finally came over the line.
"Giles?" Buffy began, "We have a situation. I need you to come over to my house right now. And I need you to bring that book with the stuff on the Bazoar. Bring something Watchery, too."
"Buffy, what's going on?" Giles wanted to know.
"It's confession time, Giles," Buffy explained, "We've had a couple of close encounters of the undead kind. One at the Gallery and one here at my house, on the front lawn. My Mom saw it all. And there's no way to explain it away. I'm gonna have to come clean this time, Giles. The truth. All of it."
"You're quite certain, Buffy?"
"Yeah, Giles. I'm certain. How soon can you get here? You're better in the explanation department than I am."
"I'm on my way."
Buffy hung up the phone and turned back to Willow and Angel. From the disgust and amusement warring for dominance on his face, Buffy guessed that Willow had had to explain what a Care Bear *was*, too.
[We really have to bring Angel up to date on a few things,] Buffy thought, hiding a smile, [Maybe I should suggest he invest in cable. Give him something to do during the day. Or, maybe not. I don't know if I could handle a soaps-addicted vamp boyfriend, the vamp part is tough enough as it is.]
The weak groan from the front room announced Joyce's return to full consciousness. Or a reasonable facsimile thereof.
"Will, call Xander," Buffy said over her shoulder as she hurried to the living room, "I may need someone who can remember the whole story to back me up when we tell my Mom about the Bazoar. I just hope she doesn't totally wig."
* * *
Xander's hormones were having the time of their lives. He was lying on the couch in his living room, with a very sexy girl lying on top of him. They were seemingly fused at the lips. And it wasn't a dream. Life was definitely very good right this moment.
The phone rang.
Xander reluctantly removed one hand from Cordelia's hair and reached blindly for the phone on the end table as it rang again. It took several tries before his hand hit the receiver. He had to take a few deep breaths before getting enough air to answer.
"Hello," Xander said, still somewhat out of breath.
"Xander?"
Xander would have jerked upright at recognizing Willow's voice if he hadn't had Cordelia draped over his chest. He didn't get a chance to reply. Cordelia suddenly snatched the phone from his hand.
"I'm sorry," she spoke into the receiver, "You'll have to call back later, Xander's kinda busy right now."
Laughing, she reached out and hung up the phone.
"Next time, turn on the machine, okay?" she told Xander, "Now, where were we?"
She leaned in to resume kissing, but Xander put his hand on her shoulder. She was surprised by the worried expression on his face.
"Um, Cordy?" he mumbled, "I think that was Willow. On the phone."
"WHAT?!?" Cordelia practically shouted, "Why would Willow be calling you?"
"She was going to come over and help me with math after Buffy's Mom got home, remember?" Xander said, "But that wasn't supposed to be until after eight, at least."
Xander looked up, across the remains of the pizza and sodas lying on the coffee table, at the TV. The snow on the screen indicated that the movie they hadn't been watching had ended, and the clock on the VCR read 8:53.
"It's almost *nine* o'clock?" Cordelia squeaked, "I was supposed to be home at eight. My Mom wanted to talk about something. I have to go. Now."
Cordelia jumped off Xander and headed for the door, grabbing her car keys from the hall table. She turned briefly when she reached the front door.
"Bye, Xander. See you tomorrow."
Then she was gone.
Xander's mind needed a few seconds to catch up. The sudden shift from groping on the couch to solitude left him spinning. And the memory of Willow's voice on the phone didn't help. His eyes kept returning to the phone as he began to clean up the debris from the pizza. Whatever Willow had wanted, she'd call back if it was important.
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