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Chapter 24


Buffy almost didn’t hear the quiet words her mom spoke, her head whipping around to stare at her in shock. God, did her mom finally get it?



“And what…exactly are you sorry for?” Buffy couldn’t help but ask, her tone only mildly hostile rather than the fully loaded version she really wanted to unleash.



Joyce took a deep breath, finding herself suddenly unnerved by her own daughter for the first time…ever. “I’m sorry for not believing you when you told me. Ok, the first two or three times you tried to tell me,” she added with a rueful smile.


Looks were exchanged around the room and Buffy stepped away from the protection that Spike offered her ravaged emotions, turning to face her mother once more. The emotional girl had finally fled in light of Joyce’s final acceptance, and the slayer now returned to occupy her usual spot.



“This is who I am, mom. It’s not going away; it’s not something that I’ll just grow out of. I’m the vampire slayer. The Chosen one.” Buffy wasn’t even about to get into the fact that there were actually two slayers, knowing her mom was not ready to hear that she had died; even it had only been for a few minutes. There was a sneaking suspicion that her mom really DIDN’T comprehend the full scope of what her calling meant, and Buffy was all for a slow induction.


Joyce nodded, suddenly feeling very tired. “I think I finally get it now, Buffy. I guess… I just wasn‘t ready to accept it and that was at your expense. For that, I am very sorry.”


Hank stared at his ex intently, wishing he‘d gotten there just a little earlier. This was his fault. Joyce should have been told but he had supported stalling the announcement for his own selfish reasons. But now Buffy was paying the price for that and he was determined to make it up to her.

He’d had a few weeks to come to terms with what his daughter was and what really existed in this world, and Sherry had been responsible for a tremendous portion of his open-mindedness, as well as being Buffy’s biggest supporter. It had taken all of his skills of persuasion to be able to escape LA without Sherry and Blair; their insistence that Buffy needed their support still ringing in his ears.

Well, that was something that couldn’t be denied at this moment. He found himself with a surprisingly small amount of reserve and trepidation at seeing Spike with Buffy; his little girl having matured from a potential juvenile delinquent into a responsible young adult in the span of a short evening.

Plus he liked Spike, although he was a bit tired of hearing his name from his girls in LA.

Giving Buffy an encouraging smile, Hank announced, “I really hope you do, Joyce. Because our little girl? She’s amazing and deserves nothing less than our full support. In everything,” he stressed.



Now that sobriety was occurring against her will, a thought suddenly occurred to Joyce. “And when exactly did you find all this out, Hank? “


“When she was down in LA with me.”


“Ran into some trouble at my club one night and the slayer here helped me out,” Spike added, smirking when he saw Hank cringe and throw him an exasperated look, having sussed out the reason for his guilty look the minute her dad walked through the door.




New lines of disapproval creased Joyce’s face once more as she had someone else to focus her energies on, a more worthwhile target. Her ex-husband. “You took Buffy to a club?”

***

Willow had dealt with some things of the majorally freaky since she had become friends with Buffy, but tonight? Well, tonight just took the cake of wiggage.


She’d tried to get Giles home but he’d appeared sober long enough to convince her that in the search for Buffy, he was more than capable of ’lending a hand.’


Now Willow deeply regretted her gullible-ness, especially after having to restrain Giles from his current task of weaving through the streets of Sunnydale calling out, “Here…Buffy, Buffy, Buffy… Come here girl,” as if he were searching for a lost pet rather than a wayward Slayer.


In between his unhelpful yells which had the potential of attracting unwanted attention coupled with the moments of hysterical giggling at absolutely nothing, Willow decided to try Buffy’s house in the hopes that she would receive news. Or at the very least she would find someone to assist her with the very drunken Watcher.


Because this was just wrong.


Willow felt an overwhelming sense of relief when they turned down Revello Drive and she spied Xander’s slouched form on the top of the porch steps. A bounce found its way into her step at the prospect of ditching Giles; more than happy to spread the pleasure of his obnoxious company around.

But a bad feeling began to settle as they drew closer and she took note of the pouting, petulant look on his face; the way he sat with his chin cupped in the palms of his hands, his elbows resting on the knees.

It did not bode well.


When she saw Angel smashed against the front door like he‘d been nailed there, her sense of foreboding escalated.

Xander didn’t look up upon their arrival, seemingly lost in a world of which only he was aware; his eyes frozen on the street before him.

Giles threw himself down next to Xander on the step, expelling a contented sigh. “Sheems you found the best seat in the house. I do believe I’ll join you.” He didn’t even seem aware that there was no response from the never muted teen at his side merely launched into a tuneless hum.

Willow trailed up the walkway slowly, watching Xander’s expression carefully. She had known her friend for a long time and was familiar with his many moods; but if she was right, this was one that hadn’t seen the light of day since they were six and she’d finally given him scientific proof that had confirmed-without a doubt- that there was no such thing as the Easter Bunny.


First Xander had cried and called her a big fat liar.


Then he had pouted. For days, he had stared morosely at his Easter basket, now unable to deny it had been his parents responsible for the meager contents and not the mythical creature he had secretly coveted.

So this was a look she thought she recognized. The look of the seriously disillusioned.


Willow found herself growing worried about him. Lots of surprises tonight, yes; but for Xander to have given up his capacity for speech was something that she hadn’t witnessed except for that time so many years ago.


“Xander?” she called out upon her approach. Eyes laden with gloom turned her way and Willow’s heart leapt. Poor Xander. He looked so torn up.

“What happened?” she asked.


“My car.”


At first Willow didn’t understand the barely audible mumble but then she looked where Xander’s focus had returned and finally began to get an inkling. “What about it?” she asked carefully.


“It’s wrong. It’s all wrong.”


“Can I just say huh?” Willow asked, this side of perplexed as she sank down on the other side of Xander.


“Will you people shut up? I’m trying to listen here,” Angel growled causing a slight reflexive jump from Willow at the irritated tone.

“Well what happened?” she asked Angel since Xander was uncommunicative for the first time in… probably ever. That alone was cause for the snippy tone she found herself using with the eavesdropping vampire.

With an irritated sigh, Angel peeled his ear away from the door and turned to look at the newcomers. “Could you try not to snap him out of it? I was actually enjoying the silence.”

Willow pulled out her big guns, allowing her world patented Resolve Face to take over her features as she stared down the once very dangerous vampire. “I’m waiting,” she asked impatiently.

“The car,” Angel said, motioning to the sleek black sports dream at the curb. “He started babbling about how unfair it was, then went blessedly catatonic.”

“Good heavens, you’re saying that’s all it took? Why ever didn‘t I think of something like that?” Giles asked, attempting to look intelligent but failing miserably. “Although I must say, that is quite a serviceable machine

Willow was missing something, she just knew it. Some secret…guy thing. “So what’s the big with that car?”

That seemed to snap Xander out of it, his voice bordering on the hysterical. “It’s not just a ‘that car.’ It’s my dream car. Every secret fantasy I have ever had has featured me and that car.“ Willow didn’t dare point out he had just referred to the Porsche as ‘that car,’ merely sat and listened to the rant. “And now? It’s all ruined. I’ll have to start my fantasies anew because it’s all wrong now.” Xander shook his head in silent misery, his eyes looking suspiciously like they were in the process of tearing up.

“I’m still not seeing the big.”

Angel whipped around again. “It’s Spike’s car, that’s why.”

Understanding dawned quickly. “Ahhh. Got it.” What she wasn’t prepared for was the outburst from the inebriated Watcher.

Giles leapt to his feet in protest, almost falling down the steps in the process. Managing to stay upright, he shouted indignantly, “Good lord! You can’t possibly mean to tell me that this particular fine schpecimen of an automobile is wasted on SCHPIKE of all people? Er, things?”

Xander gazed at Giles with something akin to hero worship, his head bobbing with the overwhelming commiseration he now shared with the older man.

“Yes, that’s what we’re saying. It’s a sad cruel world, isn’t it?” Xander asked, his tone completely serious.

Willow watched this take place detachedly before globbing onto a small piece of info. “Wait, Spike and Buffy are here?”

“Why do you think we’ve got Ears Mcgee there?” Xander snarked, now completely restored to his former obnoxious self. Now he knew why they said misery loves company.

“Don’t call me that,“ Angel threatened.

Attempting to straighten his glasses with little success, Giles cleared his throat and assumed what he considered his best watcherly tone, unmindful of the painful slurring his voice had taken on.

“Earsh Mcgee, I’d like a status report pleesh.” The pompous effect was ruined when Giles suddenly burst into a fit of giggles leaving Xander and Angel aghast.

Angel was just about to open his mouth to respond when the door he was leaning against was flung open.

Now sprawled across the threshold that he had been ordered to remove himself from earlier, Angel immediately shifted into game face when he saw a smirking Spike looming over him.

“Ears Mcgee, I presume?”

Angel didn’t pause to think, merely responded instinctively in a flurry of fist and fang.

Tbc
a/n boy did I feel like killing joyce off. *sighs* But, in order to make this plausibly believable (or at least a little) she just gets the bad mom award. It will NOT continue tho for the whole fic, so just be patient. Feel free to review cos I just love reviews! Thank you soooo much for those of you who have been kind enough to leave them!





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