Full Disclosure

by tj thw8s

A different take on how the whole Slaying gig could have come out. Written just after Bad Eggs.

Summers residence- 3 am

Buffy was half-way down the hall to her mother's room before she woke completely. She pushed open the door and hurried inside, hoping she wouldn't find what she knew she would. Her mother crouched in the corner, a trail of blankets leading back to the bed.

[This is the fifth night in a row,] Buffy thought, worried.

"Get it off me! Get it off me!" Joyce cried, still in the grip of her nightmare.

Buffy rushed to her mother's side, reaching out to stop the hands that were scratching frantically at the top of Joyce's spine. Buffy grabbed her mother's hands and stared into her wide, terror-filled eyes.

"Mom!" Buffy called, "Mom! Wake up! You're having a nightmare. Mom, wake up. You're safe. It's just a dream. I'm here, Mom. I'm here."

Some of the terror and hysteria retreated from Joyce's expression. Buffy hugged her tightly, rocking her gently and continued whispering soothing platitudes in an ironic role reversal. Buffy could feel the tension slowly leaving her mother's body under her ministrations. She continued slowly rubbing small circles on her mother's back, easing the tense muscles, and took a quick glance at the spot her mother had been scratching earlier. Buffy was hard pressed to subdue the startled gasp that threatened when she caught sight of the damage revealed by the moonlight shining in through the window. The normally pale smooth skin along Joyce's spine, between her shoulder blades, was an angry red, scraped raw and leaking blood in places.

Buffy schooled the shock and worry from her expression with difficulty. The raw area was in the precise location one of those parasites had latched on to Joyce during that incident last week at the school. Her Mom couldn't be remembering what really happened that night, could she?

[Note to self,] Buffy thought, [Pin down Giles first thing in the morning to talk about this. That 'gas leak' cover story he thought of might have worked in the heat of the moment, but if the people affected are starting to remember details, even if it's only in nightmares, we might have to rethink this whole thing again.]

"Are you okay, Mom?" Buffy asked as Joyce's breathing and heart rate finally settled back to something approaching normal, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm fine, honey," Joyce replied, "It was just a bad dream. I don't even remember what it was about now. I'm sorry I woke you."

"It's okay, Mom. Don't worry about it," Buffy said, "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? I could make us some tea."

"I'm fine, Buffy. Really," Joyce insisted, "I can't remember what it was about. Just feeling afraid. Helpless. It was just a dream. It's over."

Joyce shivered at the vague memories and impressions. She scrubbed her hands over her face, then rubbed one hand over the back over her neck to smooth away the last vestiges of nightmare induced tension. She winced slightly as her fingers brushed the raw area over her spine, now suddenly aware of a dull throbbing there. She jerked her hand away from the sore spot and stared at the smear of blood across her fingers.

"What....?" Joyce murmured.

"You were scratching yourself in your sleep," Buffy ventured, "I think you broke the skin a couple of times. Come on, Mom. I'll help you clean that up."

Joyce numbly stood and followed her daughter into the bathroom. She kept staring at the blood on her fingers. What could she have been dreaming about that would make her scratch herself hard enough to draw blood? Joyce could not remember any details of the nightmare, only a few vague impressions; a feeling of helplessness, of not being in control of her own body. She shivered again and quickly banished that line of thought.

Joyce leaned over the sink, consciously avoiding looking in the mirror, as Buffy opened the medicine cabinet to retrieve the few first aid supplies kept there. She grimaced a few times as Buffy first gently washed the sore area with warm water, then wiped it down with rubbing alcohol.

"How bad is it?" Joyce asked. A person's back was an awkward place to injure oneself, difficult to see and reach in order to treat effectively.

"It's not that bad, Mom," Buffy lied. She could count over a dozen individual nail tracks crisscrossing the hand-sized raw blemish.

"You just gave yourself a couple of good scrapes," Buffy elaborated, "Maybe you should think about getting your nails done soon?"

Joyce raised her head to look in the mirror at the image of her daughter peering over her shoulder. She managed a wan smile at Buffy's attempt to lighten the mood. Joyce sucked in a deep breath through pursed lips at the stinging sensation as Buffy sprayed Polysporin over the scratches.

"After all," Buffy continued, grinning impishly, "We wouldn't want you to end up doing some serious damage to some guy's back the next time you date someone."

"*Buffy*!!" Joyce practically screeched, shocked at the suggestion. Or rather, its source.

Buffy's reflection suddenly went beet red as she locked eyes with her mother.

"I can't believe I just said that," Buffy breathed.

Mother and daughter stared at each other in the mirror for several minutes, the silence growing increasingly uncomfortable. Finally, Joyce started chuckling softly.

"I don't think we have to worry along those lines for a while," she said softly, a wry smile twisting her lips, "After what happened with Ted last month, I don't think I'm going to be doing much....um....trolling? Is that the word I'm looking for?"

"*Mom*!" Buffy squealed, her fading blush reasserting itself. Vividly.

Buffy's mouth dropped open when her mother suddenly laughed out loud. The mischievous twinkle in Joyce's eyes caused Buffy's mind to conjure images of her mother decked out in something tight and sexy, a drink in hand, and surrounded by admirers. *Too* weird.

Joyce stood up straight, putting her arm around her daughter's shoulders, and grinned into the mirror.

"Who knows," she quipped, "Maybe one of these years we two could go on a mother/daughter hunting expedition together?"

Buffy broke up, gales of laughter erupting.

"You are so evil, Mom," she gasped between laughs, "Suggesting we subject an unsuspecting world to such an irresistibly deadly duo as ourselves."

Several minutes later, the two women finally managed to control their guffaws. Turning off the bathroom light, Joyce turned to her daughter.

"Thank you for cheering me up after that nightmare, Buffy," she said softly, "Now, I think we both should try to get back to sleep."

"Okay, Mom," Buffy agreed, "If you're sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"I'm sure," Joyce confirmed, "Good night, honey."

"Mom?" Buffy asked, "Will this little rapprochement contribute to lifting my house arrest?"

"Buffy," Joyce said, "I'll sleep on it. We'll talk about it over breakfast, okay?"

"Good night, Mom," Buffy replied, "A joint hunting expedition, hunh?"

"Who knows," Joyce returned, shrugging, before disappearing into her bedroom.

Buffy climbed back into bed, playing over the exchange in the bathroom in her mind. As she lay back against the pillows, Buffy realized that her own comments stemmed from the acceptance (finally, after over a year) that her mother and father were not going to be getting back together. And that Buffy herself hoped that her mother would eventually find someone else to share the rest of her life with. Someone to make her happy.

=====

Sunnydale High Library- Lunchtime

Buffy sat at the library's center table, idly playing with a pencil instead of actually working on the trig homework she'd been assigned in class that morning. Willow sat in her customary position in front of what was considered "her" computer (no one else ever used it, especially not Giles or the other Slayerettes), researching a biology project for extra credit. Xander was nowhere to be found; he'd pulled another one of his disappearing acts that had gotten more frequent over the past month.

Buffy was uncharacteristically reluctant to broach the subject of her mother's nightmares to Giles. Last night's determination had faded with the brightening of the morning. Her mother still claimed she didn't remember any details of the nightmares when Buffy had asked over breakfast. So she was left with something of a dilemma. She didn't *know* what her mother's nightmares had involved, and Joyce's offhand reference to Ted last night had caught Buffy off guard. Now she was wondering if the nightmares could possibly be about Ted and not that night last week with the Bazoar and its hatchlings. It had been bothering her all morning.

[No, it has to be,] she thought, [The way she was scratching at her neck is too big a coincidence.]

"Giles?" she asked, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yes?" Giles replied, coming out of his office.

Willow looked up from the computer, took one look at the worried expression on her friend's face and closed down her project.

"Something wrong, Buffy?" Giles asked as he approached the table.

"I'm not sure," Buffy answered, "I know Xander and I explained all that happened with that Bazoar thing, but do either of you actually remember anything yourselves? Have you had any nightmares?"

Willow remained silent, looking uncomfortable.

"No," Giles said, "I don't remember any details. Nor have I experienced any nocturnal episodes regarding the incident. Are you having trouble, Buffy?"

"Not me," Buffy responded, "I can deal with nightmares, I have enough of them. It's my Mom. I think she's been dreaming about that night. She's woken up screaming every night for almost a week. She says she doesn't remember what the dreams are about, but last night...."

Buffy's died away, her expression morose, her gaze dropping to her lap. Giles sat down next to her, concerned.

"She remembered something?" he prodded gently after the silence had dragged on for nearly a minute.

"No, but...," Buffy raised a very worried face, her eyes brimming, "She was scratching.... um, actually, she was *clawing* at the top of her spine. Where that hatchling had latched on to her. You should have seen it, Giles. She must have broken the skin a dozen times. There was an area as big as both my hands just....just....*raw*. All red and bleeding. It scared me, Giles."

"I...," Willow chopped herself off.

Giles looked away from Buffy. He was startled, and worried, by the tension in Willow's shoulders and the pallor of her face.

"I had a nightmare that night," Willow confessed, "But I haven't had one since."

"Willow," Giles asked gently, "What do you remember?"

"Not much, really," Willow's voice was barely above a whisper, "Just a few bits and pieces. Locking Buffy and Xander in a closet, going down to the basement, digging. And....and....did I really tell someone to kill you, Buffy?"

"That wasn't you," Buffy hastened to reassure her best friend, "It was that thing controlling you. But, if you do remember bits, I wonder how many others do? And what about the gas leak cover story? Will it hold up?"

"I think we should make some discrete inquiries to discover if anyone does remember anything," Giles suggested, "Why don't you two find Xander, and possibly Cordelia, and ask around. I'll consult my books to see if I can find anything relating to the incident. We'll meet here again after school ends?"

"Yeah," Buffy agreed, "I have to be here anyway. I'm still grounded and Mom wants me to stay here, doing my homework until she comes to pick me up on her way home from the Gallery."

Buffy and Willow headed out of the library to search for Xander, while Giles headed up into the stacks. He turned at the top of the stairs to watch the two girls leave the library, doubtful that he would find any positive information about this development. The information available on the Bazoar was limited.

=====

The rest of the school was fast becoming deserted since the final bell rang twenty minutes ago, but the library was nearly as crowded as it ever got. Buffy and Willow sat on one side of the center table wearing matching expressions of concern and unease. Xander and Cordelia sat on the other side, for once not exchanging charged insults with each other.

Giles paced relentlessly around the table, absently chewing on one earpiece of his glasses.

"So," he summarized, "It appears that certain people involved last week have had nightmares about it."

"Yeah," Willow confirmed, "Megan, Sharon and Debbie all admitted they had a few. But not in the past few days."

"And Jennifer and Diane might have," Buffy added, "But all they would cop to was 'having trouble sleeping'. I'm willing to bet it's because of nightmares even if they won't admit it."

"This is *so* typical," Cordelia huffed, "Your weird world rears its ugly head again and *other* girls are having nightmares, while you go on as always."

"Give it a rest, Cordy," Xander practically snarled, "I'm surprised you have any concern at all. It's not like you have any maternal instincts to appease."

"Wait a moment," Giles said, cutting off Cordelia's undoubtably indignant response, "Everyone who's had nightmares is female?"

Buffy and Willow sat up straighter in their chairs, exchanging a glance. They hadn't noticed that earlier.

"You're right, Giles," Buffy remarked, "They've all been girls. There has to be some reason for it."

"Definitely a possibility," Giles confirmed, "And Xander's admittedly snide remark about maternal instincts may offer a clue as to why your mother seems to have been affected so badly. She was the only woman of the adults co-opted."

"But why would only girls be remembering anything?" Willow asked.

"The information available on the Bazoar is limited, but states definitively that the hatchlings take over a host by neural clamping. It's possible that the neuro-physiological differences between the sexes may account for the discrepancy," Giles hypothesized.

"Neuro-what?" Xander asked.

The ringing of the library's phone interrupted any further explanations. Giles crossed over to the checkout desk to answer it.

"Library. Rupert Giles speaking......Hello, Mrs Summers.....Yes, she's here. One moment."

Giles wordlessly held the receiver out for Buffy, who was already halfway to him after hearing the it was her mother.

"What's up, Mom?" Buffy said into the phone.

"Buffy," her mother's voice replied, "Something's come up. The Gallery's just received a shipment a few days early. It looks like I'm going to be stuck here late tonight."

"How late?"

"I'll probably be here 'til eight, at least," Joyce explained, "So I want you to go straight home. Are you okay with getting your own dinner?"

"Sure, Mom," Buffy confirmed, "I'm sure I can find something in the fridge to munch on. But, can Willow come over? We've got a major trig test coming up in a few days and I could use some study help."

"All right," Joyce allowed, "As long as you two actually *do* some studying. Don't spend all your time discussing things I probably don't want to hear about."

"I promise, Mom," Buffy vowed, "Boys, clothes, and gossip will not overwhelm the fascinating world of incomprehensible mathematics. Much."

"I'll be checking when I get home that you at least have your homework finished," Joyce threatened.

"All right. All right," Buffy laughed, "We'll do our homework first. Boy, sometimes you can be a real slavedriver. You know that?"

"Sometimes I feel like I *need* a whip and a chair with you," Joyce sighed, "Now remember, straight home, and you're not to leave the house once you get there."

"I know, I know," Buffy said, "I'm still grounded. And I can deal. I'll see you tonight, Mom. Bye."

"Bye, sweetheart," Joyce added.

Buffy hung up the phone and turned back to the interrupted discussion, changing gears rapidly.

"So, Giles," she began, "You were saying? Why is the whole deal with the Bazoar still affecting my Mom?"

Giles blinked; surprised once again with the speed at which Buffy switched between the teenager and the Slayer.

"And in English this time, G-man," Xander interjected.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Well, there is medical evidence that the physical structure of the brain differs between males and females. Perhaps those differences are responsible for some of the girls, and your mother, being able to remember portions of that night. I am encouraged by your reports that the other girls' nightmares have stopped. Hopefully, your mother's will, too."

"But why is she still having them if they stopped with the others?" Buffy asked.

"That's where those 'maternal instincts' that Xander mentioned so disparagingly may play a part," Giles explained, "Your mother was the only one affected who was...well, a mother. I suspect that the nightmares may be more severe for her because she has a child of her own she cares for very much. She did, after all, hit Spike over the head with an axe to protect you. From that incident alone, I'd say her maternal instincts are very highly developed."

"Then I guess you don't remember her nearly bashing my head in with a pick down in the basement that night," Buffy retorted hotly, "That thing had total control of her."

"That may be why your mother is having a harder time dealing with the incident," Giles explained, "The Bazoar was probably able to gain a deeper control of her since she has a child of her own. It would have been able to harness her protective instincts, we've already seen that she is willing to put herself to great risk for you, Buffy, and pervert them to protecting its own offspring."

"And this means?" Buffy pressed.

"It just may take a little longer for her to recover from the incident than the other girls," Giles offered.

"But why do only some of the girls remember?" Cordelia interjected, "I don't remember anything."

"I'm afraid I don't have any explanation," Giles said quietly, "I'm not up on the current biological theories of the differences between the sexes and the brain."

"Estrogen levels," Willow spoke up suddenly.

The others stared at her. Willow blushed slightly, but reached out and turned her computer on. She called up the project she'd been working on at lunch and quickly paged through her research notes. Finally finding what she was looking for, she gestured for the others to look.

"There are studies being done to find out just what kinds of differences there are," she began, "There have been indications that guys do better at some specific spatial tasks, but girls seem to do better at some language and memory things. But the part that might explain the nightmare thing is a couple of studies that show that different hormone levels seem to have an effect, too. The same test subjects got different scores on the same kind of test at different times during their cycles, scoring better during the low estrogen level part."

"In English, please, Will," Xander begged, "You know I nearly flunked bio last year."

"I hadn't considered that angle," Giles mused, "So there is evidence that the different hormone levels at various stages of the menstrual cycle can have an effect on memory?"

"Menstru....." Xander muttered, "Ick, I don't think I want to understand this part."

"Well, the studies are fairly new," Willow explained, "And they aren't certain how significant the connection is, but there does seem to be one."

"So? What?" Cordelia asked, "All the girls who can remember anything are only doing it as a side effect of PMS?"

"In a manner of speaking," Giles said, "While these studies Willow refers to note only a tenuous connection, the mystical influence of the Hellmouth may be amplifying that connection in this case. That would also explain why only a few of you do remember anything, the difference in timing, as it were."

"Okay," Buffy added, "Let me get this straight, some of the girls remember bits because they happened to have the right levels of whatever hormone on that night. And my Mom just happens to have been one of the lucky few, right?"

"I believe that may be the case," Giles confirmed, "Fortunately, the nightmares seemed to have faded away for the other girls. Hopefully, your mother's will also."

"But what if she keeps having them, Giles?" Buffy insisted, "What if they get worse? What if she *does* start to remember?"

"I'm not sure," Giles hesitated, glancing at Willow.

"What?" Willow asked, "Why are you looking at me?"

"You say you had only the one nightmare?" Giles questioned.

"Well, yeah," Willow replied, "But I don't see the connection."

"If you haven't had any since Buffy and Xander explained things, then perhaps...." Giles trailed off.

"We might have to tell my Mom the truth in order to stop hers," Buffy finished for him, "That could be a dicey thing, Giles. She might not believe us. And even if she does, how do we explain how we found out about it?"

"This is not good," Willow muttered.

"I'm sure we'll be able to think of something," Giles offered, "It might not come to that. You did say that the other girls' nightmares have stopped. There's no reason not to assume you mother's won't, as well."

"I guess," Buffy conceded, "But I'm still not happy with this whole sitch. C'mon Will, let's get going to my house. We'll stop at the store on the way. If I'm going to have to attempt to wrap my brain around trig, I'm going to need some quality munchies to fuel the effort."

"Food?" Xander chimed in.

"Down, boy," Buffy chuckled, "The Walking Stomach isn't invited to this one, sorry."

"So I have to fend for myself. Again," Xander griped, "You know I hate math. How am I supposed to deal without The Great Brain to help? And Mother Hubbard has a feast compared to the my kitchen's prospects."

"I can come by later, Xander," Willow offered, gathering her knapsack and joining Buffy at the door, "Okay?"

"Great, Will," Xander smiled.

After Willow and Buffy had left, Cordelia leaned over and whispered to Xander.

"So, no one's home at your place?"

Xander nodded to her, not quite following her train of thought.

"You must have a couch that's more comfortable than the utility closet," she added, sotto voce.

The light clicked in Xander's mind. He smiled broadly.

"Let's go," he said, standing.

Giles was dragged out of his introspection of nightmares by the library door closing behind the departing teens. With a small shrug, he turned toward his office. There was a cup of tea calling his name.

=====

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.

=====

Buffy re-entered the living room to find her mother sitting up on the couch. Extremely pale. Joyce hugged herself, staring down into her lap, still trying to grapple with the possibility that vampires might actually exist. And the more alarming revelation that Buffy (and from the looks of things, Willow and maybe others, also) *knew* about it. And had known for some time.

"Mom?" Buffy asked hesitantly as she stepped up to the couch.

Joyce suddenly couldn't sit still. She rose and began to pace nervously. Trying to rub away the goosebumps on her arms, Joyce finally noticed a fine coating of some kind of grit on her arms, blouse and skirt.

"What...?" she murmured, brushing at the grit. A small puff of dust rose from her clothing and hung in the still air of the living room.

"Vamp dust from earlier?" Buffy asked Angel, who stood leaning against the edge of the wall separating the hall and the living room.

"I think so," he replied.

"Vamp....dust," Joyce stammered, her voice quavering, "From....earlier....those things....on *me*?"

Buffy stood motionless, undecided on how to proceed, as her mother stared down at herself. Joyce's breathing speeded up. Suddenly, Joyce bolted for the hallway.

"I have to shower," she added, rushing to the stairs.

Buffy followed her to the hallway. Angel stayed where he was, keeping his back turned because of his suspicion of what came next. And he was right. Joyce was barely halfway up the stairs when her blouse fell from her shoulders, landing on the steps. She disappeared down the upstairs hallway toward the bathroom already working on her skirt's zipper.

Buffy stood at the bottom of the stairs, her face twisted with worry. When Angel stepped up beside her and put his arm around her shoulder, Buffy leaned into his comforting embrace. She waited until she heard the water come on upstairs before stepping out from Angel's arm. And noticed Willow standing motionless by the hall table, staring at the receiver in her hand as if it were some strange experiment gone awry.

"Will?" Buffy asked, "Did you get through to Xander? I think we're gonna need backup testimony for some of this."

"Hunh?" Willow replied slowly, not quite in the here and now, "What?"

"Willow?" Buffy prodded, "Telephone? Xander? Did you get through?"

"Um, yeah," Willow sighed, finally hanging up the receiver.

"Well?" Buffy prompted, "Is he coming or not?"

"You know how we've been wondering why Cordelia and Xander have been acting so weird this past month?" Willow asked.

"Yeah?" Buffy replied, confused by the non sequitur.

"I think I know what's causing it."

"What do you mean?"

"They're together."

"Will, you're not making any sense."

"Cordelia was there. *At Xander's house*!"

"What?!?" Buffy was as shocked as Willow looked, "Are you certain?"

"Yes," Willow whispered disconsolately, "When Xander answered the phone, he was out of breath. Then there was *Cordelia's* voice saying 'call back later, Xander's busy'. I think I interrupted them."

Buffy's mouth dropped open in shock. Xander and Cordelia? Together? *Xander* and *Cordelia*?!? There had to be some weird Hellmouth thing behind *that*. She walked over and picked up the phone, punching the numbers harder than necessary.

"Hello?" Xander's voice sounded normal to Buffy's ears.

"Xander," she replied, "It's Buffy."

"Hey Buffster," Xander declared, "I was just going to call you. Is Willow still there? She was going to come over and help with the math tonight when you two got finished doing the girl thing."

"Sorry, Xand," Buffy answered, listening closely to see if she could hear anything incriminating in the background, "You're on your own mathwise tonight. Something's come up here."

"What's up, Buff?" Xander asked, "Anything I can help with?"

"Not right now," Buffy sighed. If there was something going on between him and Cordelia, tonight was not the time for that revelation. There was already enough on everyone's minds. She would just have to do her best telling her mother about the Bazoar without Xander's backup testimony.

"It's just that....," she continued, pausing to take a deep breath, "The Crime Club is about to induct a new member."

"*What*?" Xander's voice took on a slightly hysterical edge, "Buffy, what's going on? What happened? Who is it?"

"Xander!" Buffy interrupted him before he could ask any more questions, "My Mom found out. She was attacked by a couple of vamps outside the Gallery. Angel rescued her. But when she got home we had a repeat performance on the front lawn. I staked Lyle Gorch and another vamp right in front of her. And Willow bagged the last one with my crossbow. My Mom saw it all. Giles is on his way over right now to help me and Willow explain things."

"You sure you don't want me to come over?" Xander asked, his voice betraying his unease at Buffy's revelation, "I know Giles is the Answerman and everything, but you don't need my help?"

"It's all right, Xander," Buffy insisted, "We can handle it. I'll see you tomorrow."

"If you're sure?" Xander added.

"I'm sure, Xand. Bye."

"Bye."

Buffy hung up. She glanced up the stairs as she moved to join Willow and Angel in the livingroom. An uneasy silence descended.

=====

After several minutes the tense quiet, broken only by the steady drone of the shower running upstairs, began to grate on Buffy's nerves. She rose from the couch and began to pace restlessly. Back and forth between the foot of the stairs and the front window. Back and forth, pausing briefly at the end of each leg to check for either the appearance of her mother or Giles' arrival.

"I'm gonna check on my Mom," Buffy suddenly announced, starting for the stairs, "Keep an eye out for Giles, he should be here any second."

Buffy ran up the stairs, not waiting for either Angel or Willow to acknowledge her. She knocked, somewhat hesitantly, on the bathroom door.

"Mom?"

No answer.

"Mom?" Buffy called again, a little louder.

Still no reply.

Buffy opened the door and tentatively stuck her head into the steam- filled room.

"Mom?" she called for the third time.

The faint sounds of sobs brought her completely into the room and up to the tub. Pulling aside the shower curtain, Buffy's heart leapt into her throat. Her mother sat, huddled on the bottom of the tub in a fetal position, shivering despite the scalding water raining down on her. Her eyes were clenched tightly shut and her shoulders shook.

Buffy reached out and turned off the water. She grabbed a towel from the bar on the wall beside the shower and drew it around Joyce's shoulders. Or, attempted to. Joyce flinched away from the slight contact with a shriek.

"Mom!" Buffy cried, hopping into the tub, "Mom, it's me. You're safe."

[Whoa, deja vu,] Buffy thought as she firmly wrapped the towel around her mother's shoulders, [Except for the wet part.]

"I've got you, Mom," she continued soothingly, "Nothing can hurt you here. Everything will be all right."

Joyce slowly began to relax and allowed her daughter to help her from the tub. She dried herself off, leaning heavily on Buffy's shoulder. The shock and hysteria were starting to wear off. As she let Buffy lead her to her room for some clothes, Joyce mustered as much calm and control as possible to face the memories of tonight's events. She was going to want some damned good answers from Buffy and the others about all this.

=====

Willow nearly bolted from the couch when the doorbell rang. Finally. The silence that had permeated the house since the water upstairs was shut off had been practically unbearable. But Angel had gone into Silent Brood Mode in the corner and she refused to show her anxiety by babbling. Relieved that something was happening, Willow rushed to the door and threw it open.

"Giles!," she shouted, "What took you so long?"

"I had to stop by the library," Giles explained, "For the volume with the information on the Bazoar. Is everyone all right? No one was harmed?"

"I think Buffy's Mom is pretty wigged," Willow told Giles as she virtually dragged him by the sleeve into the living room, "But nobody got hurt. This is *not* good, Giles. Mrs. Summers *saw* Buffy stake a couple of vampires. And she saw Angel's game face."

"She also staked a pair herself," Angel added from his position in the shadowy corner.

Giles stopped dead in his tracks. His mind had almost come to grips with tonight's surprises on the way over, but Angel's revelation derailed his train of thought again. He almost didn't even notice a pair of stakes and Buffy's crossbow sitting openly on the coffee table when he sat down, his mind still reeling with the implications of Joyce Summers discovering her daughter's "hobby".

Giles dropped the books on the table next to the crossbow and stakes.

"Very well," he said, "I'm still a little in the dark here. Will someone please explain what happened?"

Willow and Angel exchanged a look before she motioned for him to start.

=====

Joyce and Buffy entered the living room to find a tense silence hanging over its occupants. Joyce was surprised by the presence of the school's librarian, Mr. Giles. Then she remembered something from last week, when Buffy hadn't been in the library when she'd gone to pick her up.

///Joyce glanced down at the books lying on the top of the card catalogue.

"'Bristol's Demon Index'?" Joyce asked, "'Hell's Offspring'?"

"A hobby of mine," Giles replied, picking up the books and placing them on a shelf inside the cage, "But...uh...having nothing to do with Buffy in any way."///

Later that night, while frantically searching for Buffy in the wake of the gas leak, Joyce had forgotten Giles' odd comment. But now, it was another piece to a puzzle Joyce had never even known existed. All those times Giles had called, or come to the house, looking for Buffy because of something going on at the library now seemed to have a sinister edge.

[He knows,] Joyce thought, [He's known all along and kept it from me!]

"You!!" Joyce snarled at Giles, advancing menacingly on the tweed clad man, "How *DARE* you! How could get my daughter involved in this nonsense?"

Willow brought her knees up to her chest on the end of the couch. Even though this example of parental wrath wasn't aimed in her direction, Willow made herself as small and inconspicuous as possible. She knew she could find herself under Mrs. Summers baleful glare at any point. And she dreaded it, knowing that it was inevitable. Mrs. Summers would undoubtably realize that Willow was deeply involved with Buffy's secret.

Angel stayed in his corner. He had no desire to step in. Joyce needed to get the anger out of her system if there was any chance of getting her to listen to the truth. Right now she seemed to be in pure overprotective lioness mode and Giles would just have to deal with Joyce's ire. He probably had the best shot at making her listen, anyway.

Giles pressed himself deep into the chair. Joyce's white terrycloth robe covering her pale blue pyjamas did nothing to lessen the fire in her eyes or the set of her jaw. He blinked, suddenly seeing Buffy as she might look if she survives Slaying for twenty years. Giles opened his mouth to say something, anything, which might calm the raging Valkyrie in front of him. But Buffy got there first.

"Mom!" Buffy cried, grabbing Joyce's arm, "Giles didn't start anything! Just let us explain!"

"Buffy. Sit. Down. And. Be. Quiet," Joyce said through clenched teeth before rounding on Giles again, "You *bastard*! Buffy's a teenager, I expect a certain amount of rebelliousness and evasiveness from *her*. I can still remember what it was like to be one. But *you*, you are supposed to be an adult. Responsible. How dare you involve my daughter in your delusions? I want some answers and I want them *now*. Just what the Hell is going on? And when did it start?"

"It started back in LA before I got expelled from Hemery," Buffy stated from behind Joyce's shoulder, "And there's nothing delusional about all this. This is the dark side of reality, Mom."

"What?" Joyce asked, whirling on her daughter in shock.

"It started back in LA," Buffy repeated, "All those fights. That 'bad crowd' you always talk about. That was all about vampires. I had to burn down the gym because it was full of vampires and that was the only way I could stop them."

Joyce's eyes darted from Buffy's set face around the other occupants. They all looked deadly serious. Joyce didn't resist when Buffy took her arm and led her to the couch. She practically collapsed onto it, shaking her head.

[This is *not* happening!] the rational, logical part of her mind kept insisting, [Vampires do not exist. Those men could not have turned to dust. *I* must have been hallucinating. I'm having a breakdown, that's the only explanation that makes sense.]

"Mom, I know this is hard," Buffy said, sitting on the couch between her mother and Willow, "But it's the truth. And I know how you're feeling, I didn't believe it at first either. Please, Mom. You have to listen to us."

"What is going on?" Joyce whispered.

"Vampires are real, Mom," Buffy stated, "And it's my destiny to fight them. There's nothing you can change. You're just gonna have to accept it."

"Well I *don't* accept it!" Joyce blurted, "There has to be another explanation! This is *not* possible!"

"Giles, help," Buffy sighed, "You do the whole explanation thing better than me."

"I'm afraid Buffy is essentially correct, Mrs. Summers," Giles said quietly when Joyce looked at him, "Vampires are definitely all too real. And Buffy is the only one capable of fighting them effectively."

Joyce looked away from Giles. She couldn't accept the sad agreement she saw in Buffy's eyes. Joyce looked past her daughter to the other girl on the end of the couch. Willow looked back at Joyce's pale face and nodded confirmation. Joyce's eyes flicked to the corner Angel had ensconced himself in. He just looked back, his face blank. Then he nodded as well.

"Maybe you should start at the beginning Giles," Buffy suggested, "Give her the whole deep background thing."

Giles cleared his throat nervously as Joyce turned to face him.

"Yes, I suppose that's best," he sighed, then looked Joyce directly in the eye, "This world is far older than anyone knows. Contrary to popular mythology, it did not begin as a paradise. For untold aeons demons walked the Earth. They made it their home, their Hell. But as time progressed, they lost their purchase on this reality. The way was made for mortal animals, for Man. All that remains of the old ones are vestiges, certain magics, certain creatures..."

"And vampires," Buffy added.

Joyce looked from one face to another, still not wanting to believe this. But her resistance was beginning to fade. They all seemed so sure, so serious, despite the unbelievability of the subject matter.

"Yes," Giles continued after sparing Buffy a reproving glance for interrupting him, "The books tell that the last demon to leave this reality fed off a human, mixed their blood. He became a human form possessed, infected by the demon's soul. He bit another, and another, and so they walk the Earth, feeding. Killing some, mixing their blood with others to make more of their kind. Waiting for the animals to die out, and the old ones to return."

"But what does any of that have to do with Buffy?" Joyce asked.

"I'm the Slayer," Buffy replied, as if that explained everything.

"The 'Slayer'?" Joyce questioned.

"Into each generation a Slayer is born," Giles answered, ignoring Buffy rolling her eyes at his lecturing tone, "One girl in all the world, a Chosen One, one born with the skill and the strength to hunt the vampires, to stop the spread of their evil and protect the world."

"I don't believe this!" Joyce shouted, jumping up and starting to pace, "This *can't* be happening!"

"Mom!" Buffy exclaimed, getting up to stand in front of her mother. She was beginning to get desperate, wanting to make her mother see past her denial, "It's the truth. You *saw* those vamps outside turn to dust when I staked them. And those other ones earlier outside the Gallery when Angel rescued you. It's all real. You have to understand it."

"I don't know *what* I saw," Joyce retorted, her mind still clinging to the idea that this was all some sort of horrible nightmare, "Or think I saw. This is impossible."

Buffy looked at Giles and Willow, at a loss. This was much harder than she'd anticipated. Her mother was refusing to accept something that was staring her in the face.

[Staring her in the face?] Buffy thought suddenly, turning to Angel.

"Angel, come here."

Angel was at her side immediately. He looked into her eyes and took a step back. He couldn't believe she was thinking what he thought she was thinking. Her face hardened.

"That is not a good idea right now, Buffy," he warned, "Your Mom's already been through a lot tonight. Don't you think she's had enough shocks?"

"Angel," Buffy commanded, "Game face. Now."

Angel sighed and looked down. He thought Buffy was pushing too hard and too fast, but Joyce's continued refusal to believe what they were telling her had reached a point where he accepted that it would take something this drastic to make her see the truth. He allowed the demon to surface, his face transforming to reveal the vampire, and raised his head to look straight at Joyce.

Joyce's hand flew to her mouth to try and hold back the shriek that threatened to escape when Angel looked at her. Her eyes widened as she forced herself to take a long look at the pronounced brow ridges, the glowing yellow eyes, and the fangs visible through his parted lips. Giles immediately stepped up to her side to catch her in case she fainted. He shot a glare at Buffy, telling her wordlessly that he thought she was being too abrupt. Joyce continued staring at the horrible visage where a handsome young man had been standing just seconds before.

"Buffy," Angel said quietly, rolling up his sleeve, "Your cross."

Buffy blinked at him. She looked back at her mother's pallid face and sighed. This was going a bit father than she'd expected to have to, but Angel had a point. If her Mom still wasn't accepting everything, going whole hog would be necessary. She reached up and undid the clasp of the chain around her neck. She held out the cross. Angel nodded to her and, with a grimace, Buffy pressed the cross against his bare arm.

In the dead silence, the faint sizzle that started the moment the cross touched Angel's flesh sounded very loud. Buffy pulled the cross away quickly when a wisp of smoke began rising from Angel's arm. Angel held his arm out, the cross shaped burn clearly visible. Giles slipped his arm around Joyce's waist as her knees buckled. He helped her the few steps to the couch and sat her down.

"Oh my God," Joyce whispered, her denial finally crumbling.

Buffy hurried to her mother's side, taking Joyce's trembling hand in her own.

"Mom," she whispered, "I'm sorry about that, but I had to make you see that we're telling you the truth. I know this has all come at you pretty fast. And it's a big shock. But we'll deal. God, I've wanted to tell you this for so long, I just didn't want to put you in danger. I hated keeping this quiet, knowing you didn't understand why I was always in so much trouble because of what I am. And I didn't want you to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"Oh, Buffy," Joyce breathed, gathering her daughter into a hug, "I'll always worry about you, you're my daughter. I know you can take care of yourself, but a mother worries. It just is."

Willow watched the pair on the couch for several seconds before turning to Giles and Angel.

"I think the worst is over," she said quietly so as not to interrupt Buffy and her Mom, "Maybe this is the point where we should leave?"

"You may be right, Willow," Giles acknowledged.

"Wait," Joyce said as they turned toward the door, "There's still something I want to know."

Everyone looked at her expectantly. Angel began to feel uncomfortable when her gaze settled on him.

"If you're a vampire," Joyce asked, her voice a little unsteady, "Does that mean you drink blood? Feed on people?"

"I used to," Angel replied, cutting off Buffy as she opened her mouth, "But not for a long time."

"Angel's a special case," Buffy added.

"He has a soul," Willow confirmed.

"What?" Joyce said, confused.

"I'll explain," Angel sighed, motioning for Willow and Buffy to let him speak, "When you become a vampire, the demon gets your body. But not your soul, that's gone. After I turned, I.... wreaked havoc for a long time. No guilt. No remorse. Then, I fed on a Gypsy girl. Her people reacted by punishing me with the worst thing they could come up with. They cursed me. Brought back my soul. You can't begin to imagine what it's like to have done the things I've done and still care. I haven't fed off a living human since that day."

"Now he helps us out with the Slayage," Buffy added, "He brings us information on what the local undead are up to so I can stop it."

"Us?" Joyce asked.

"Well," Buffy spoke slowly, she knew this part would be hard for her mother, "Giles is my Watcher. He researches prophecies, demons, what vamps might in the neighbourhood and what there weaknesses are. And he teaches me how to fight. Well, more like acts as a live punching bag while I practice. I try not to hurt him. Much."

Giles cheeks coloured slightly. He knew Buffy usually held back when they sparred, but this was the first time she'd actually admitted it.

"And Willow?" Joyce asked.

"She stumbled on to the truth about me," Buffy said, "And refused to stumble back out of it."

"Buffy saved my life," Willow added, "So now I help out with the research and stuff. I can usually dig up stuff on the Net we can use. Almost as much as what Giles has in those books of his. Xander and Cordy help out, too. I like to call us the Slayerettes."

"Do your parents know?" Joyce wondered, "Am I the only one who didn't?"

"Oh no," Willow replied, her expression stricken, "You won't tell them, will you? Please don't tell them. I don't want them to worry. I'm careful, and I try to stay out of the actual Slaying."

Joyce looked at Giles. His expression was certainly revealing. She could see the concern on his face. He worried about the children's involvement, she could tell. And when he exchanged a speaking look with Buffy, she realized he worried about her daughter as well.

"All right," Joyce acquiesced, "But it's getting late. You should probably be getting home, Willow. Will you be okay, or should I drive you?"

"I can walk her home," Angel offered, his eyes finding Buffy's.

"I'll be safe with Angel," Willow said, catching Buffy's nod and grin.

"Mr. Giles," Joyce added, "Would you mind staying? I'd like to speak with you some more about all this."

Again, Joyce noticed the silent exchange between the librarian and her daughter. From the corner of her eye, she saw Buffy's barely perceptible nod before her daughter got up to escort the others to the door. Giles returned to the chair and prepared himself for the barrage of questions he was sure Joyce was about to ask.

"You were pretty good with my crossbow, Willow," Buffy said as she opened the front door, "Have you been practicing without telling me?"

Willow looked down and shuffled her feet nervously.

"Yes," she confessed, "After what happened the night of the Spring Fling, I asked Giles to teach me how to use a crossbow. I had to work on him for a while before he agreed, but he has been teaching me."

"Why, Will?" Buffy asked, curious.

"I can't fight like you can, Buffy," Willow replied, "So I thought I'd better learn how to use something with a little more range. Just in case. And I wanted to be able to do *something* if you ever needed backup sometime. It came in handy tonight, didn't it?"

"Will, you are the best," Buffy asserted, drawing her friend into a hug, "But you be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you, so no independent safaris, okay?"

"Okay," Willow assured her friend, "Besides, dust doesn't make a very noteworthy trophy. Hard to hang on the wall."

Buffy chuckled and playfully swatted Willow on the arm. She gave Angel a hug and closed the door behind them.

Buffy stuck her head back into the living room to find her mother and her Watcher deeply involved in their discussion. Buffy wasn't sure she wanted to know what they were talking about, but she hoped Giles would be careful about what he said. Her mother may have come around and accepted the whole Slayer deal, but some of the gang's past experiences should probably not be revealed right now. Her Mom needed more time to let it all sink in before that happened.

"I'm gonna go to bed now," Buffy said, interrupting them, "Or do you want me stay down here and talk some more?"

"You go on up, Buffy," Joyce told her, "I'm sure we'll be having a lot of talks about everything over the next few days. And I think I need a little time to really take this all in. I won't keep Mr. Giles too long, honey."

"Okay, Mom," Buffy replied, "Night Mom, Giles."

Giles smiled slightly as he watched his Slayer head up the stairs before turning his attention back to Joyce. He would make every effort to help Mrs. Summers cope with the knowledge that had been revealed tonight. He could almost sense the same strength he so admired in Buffy in her mother as well. It may take a little time, and there would undoubtably be difficulties, but he was sure Joyce would eventually be accepting of her daughter's destiny.

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