Part Thirty-four
Richmond, Virginia. February 15, 2001
Rachael Weitz woke up in a strange bed, tired and confused. {Where the hell?}
And then suddenly, all the events of the previous night quickly came rushing back into her memory. { Ohhhh, boy... }
Rachael could now see the nude form of Xander Harris laying in the bed, his horribly scarred back facing towards her. But still, even just the sight of her bed partner - it was enough to give the Israeli woman warm tingles, all over.
Of course, Weitz had known that Mr. Alexander Hall - no, she had to remember that it was Howard now, damn it - had been with other women before. That Slayer of his, and the Furies in LA - just to name a few. And she'd suspected that he would have learned a lot, from all of them...
But there was no way in hell the brunette spy could have possibly imagined, what kind of animal Xander Harris could be in bed these days. After all, as Anya had once so charmingly put it in the previous future, the guy *did* have the reputation of being a Viking in the sack!
Rachael could feel herself aching all over, from what he'd done to her. And secretly, she cherished said feeling with all her heart...
Suddenly, Xander yawned and turned over in bed. And then his eyes instantly snapped open, when he felt someone there with him. {Wake up! Unknown situation. Possible danger! } his inner Soldier Guy screamed in his head.
But as soon as Xander saw Rachael - okay, a Rachael with bed hair and no makeup, but still - he relaxed. "Morning," he said sleepily.
"Good morning," Weitz said, as she slid on top of him and placed her arms around his neck. "Alexander? I just wanted to say, thanks. That was the best Valentine's Day present I've ever had! Last night, it was-"
"Interesting?"
"Try incredible," the naked woman grinned, thoroughly satisfied after their night of passion. Rachael kissed Xander intensely and then asked, "Okay, I gotta ask - where the hell did you learn to do that thing you did, with your tongue?"
"Anya," Harris replied unthinkingly.
"Who?" the Jewish woman asked in confusion.
Suddenly Xander stiffened, and his lover instantly felt it. "Long story. Another time, okay?" he said.
Not liking the bad vibes she was now getting, Weitz got off of Harris and asked, "What's wrong?"
Xander just stared at the ceiling and said softly, "You don't want to hear it."
"Tell me anyway," she demanded. "Because I'll probably just nag until you cough up, lover boy. So spill!"
"I don't-" Xander shut himself up.
"WHAT?" Rachael almost yelled.
The former slave slowly turned to face her. "It's just - I still can't help thinking you've made a big mistake, getting involved with me like that-"
"We went through all this last night," Rachael said patiently, as she got out of bed and started looking for her clothes. "And I told you then, no strings attached. Hell, it's not like I'm asking you to convert to Judaism so that we can get married-"
"I know that," Xander interrupted her. "After all - I'm legally dead, so kinda tricky. And I can't give you, or any other woman, any sort of future..."
Rachael stopped, cold. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Xander placed his hands behind his head. "Rachael...tell me something. What do you think is going to happen, after 2003?"
"Well, no more future knowledge on your part, so-"
"I become Joe Normal?" Harris asked cuttingly. "Never gonna happen, Weitz. There's always gonna be someone out there, looking for me. Even if just to cut my head open, and see if there's any way I can be duplicated under laboratory conditions. You think there's any chance of a wife, 2.3 kids and a white picket fence in my future? Sorry, but if so you'd be dead wrong. I know that I'm gonna be a hunted man till the day I die...and what the hell kind of deal is that to inflict on a woman?"
The flat, level tone was enough to get Rachael completely chilled, even if his words hadn't been sufficient to cause goosebumps. The intelligence agent just finished getting dressed and said, "I gotta go, I'm late for an appointment in Washington. So, ah, call me tonight, okay?"
"Sure. See ya then, Rachael..."
And as Ms. Weitz tiptoed out of the apartment, trying not to wake up Oz and Fred, Xander cursed himself for dumping his issues on the poor woman like that.
However, he couldn't see the look on Rachael's face as she left his room. She mentally cursed the Furies, {It's not fair, He deserves better.}
Los Angeles, California. February 16, 2001
"Mr. Nabbit? There's someone here to see you."
David Nabbit leaned over, and clicked on the intercom on his desk. "Who is it, Gladys?" he asked his longtime secretary. "And hey, do they have an appointment?"
Gladys' voice came back a little uncertain. "Well, not as such - but he says he's Dr. Irving Hollins, from the University of Chicago? Still, he doesn't look anything like-"
"Is he a little boy, y'know - not yet a teenager?" Nabbit asked at once.
"Why yes, he's about twelve or thirteen - and he has-" Gladys sounded surprised by the question.
David again interrupted her at once. "Send him right in!"
The name of Irving Hollins was well known, in certain computer circles. And if the renowned child genius was at his doorstep, David was certainly not going to keep him waiting.
The door to the office opened and said child genius walked in, followed by an older teenage girl. And the femme looked annoyed at everything she'd had to do, to get past security! Nabbit hurried to greet his visitor, "Dr. Hollins, it's a pleasure to finally meet you! To what do I owe this honor?"
"Mr. Nabbit. Thank you for seeing us like this, and please - pardon the unexpected intrusion. Ah, this is Bethany Chaulk, she was kind enough to accompany me on my journey..." Hollins looked around. "May we sit down?"
"Sure, where are my manners? Sit, sit! Uh, can I get anything for the two of you?" the computer mogul said.
Both Hollins and Chaulk declined his offer. Irving got straight to the business at hand, "Mr. Nabbit, it's our understanding that you are not unaware of demons and various other paranormal entities that exist in this world...?"
"Ahhhhh..." Nabbit stammered uncertainly. {Oh man, does he know about that demon brothel? And if so, has he *told* anyone? }
"Don't worry. We're not part of some plot to ruin your reputation, or to make you seem insane. Ms. Chaulk here will be able to establish our bona fides. Bethany, if you please?" the Wizard asked politely.
Bethany nodded. Her brow crunched up slightly, and suddenly Nabbit was stunned to see his laptop floating off his desk. It floated through the air, until it was right in front of David.
And so, he just dumbly looked at his guests. {Holy shit, how?}
Hollins just nodded at him. David proceeded to move his arms around the laptop, to make sure it wasn't being held up by wires or whatever. Satisfied that it wasn't, he grabbed the laptop and looked at Hollins' face.
"As you can see from Ms. Chaulk's actions, we ourselves are not strangers to the paranormal."
Nabbit, his eyes still opened wide in shock, nodded in silent agreement as Hollins continued, "Mr. Nabbit - David - your government needs you. I am here today, representing a group of concerned individuals; as we need to prepare for certain events of a paranormal nature, that are coming soon."
"Right. Well, uh, what do you need from me?" Nabbit asked slowly, still somewhat freaked out.
Bethesda Navy Hospital, Maryland. Later that day
U.S. Navy Commander Bert Chalmers reached and grabbed his cell phone off of his desk. He had hoped to have a fully uninterrupted afternoon to get caught up on the paperwork from his surgery the past week, but alas - that was not to be.
"Dr. Chalmers," he said into the offending device.
"Hey, roomie."
"Josh! Great to hear from you. What are you up to?" Chalmers asked his Naval Academy roommate.
"Well - same old, same old. Every meal in the corps is a feast, and every paycheck is a fortune. Oh yeah, saw your brother a while back up in Idaho," Cleburne said.
"I know, Darien mentioned it. Sounds like you're up to your old tricks, cowboy. Fighting the good fight, and all that?"
"Well, I go where the Marine Corps sends me," Cleburne replied with a straight face.
"Oh! Lizzie will want me to say hello," Chalmers said, referring to his wife.
"How's she doing these days?"
"Doing well, thanks. The kids are keeping her busy, but she still finds time to design buildings. She's even been made partner at her architect firm," Chalmers explained proudly.
"Congrats to her. It's the third best thing she's ever done in her life."
Chalmers could swear that he could hear Cleburne smiling through the phone. "Third best?"
"Well, there's your two children," Cleburne explained.
"Hey! She did marry me!" Chalmers chided his friend.
"Yeah, there's no accounting for taste. I did warn her about you," Cleburne replied with a chuckle.
Chalmers effected mock outrage. "You fixed the two of us up!" he protested.
"Well, I thought you would turn out better!" Cleburne declared. "Anyway, I called for a reason other than catching up."
"And that would be?" Bert asked.
"Remember Joyce Summers in California?"
"Summers - oh, yes. Brain tumor, I operated on her last year. As I recall, the operation went well," Chalmers replied with a frown.
"She seems to be recovering well, anyway, from what I'm told..." Chalmers had his suspicions as to just how Cleburne might know this. "However, I'm concerned about a certain day that's coming up."
"Certain day?"
"Yeah. Listen, roomie, what are you doing next week? On account of I kinda need for you to clear your calendar, for a few days."
Chalmers leaned over and looked at his schedule. "It's pretty short notice, but...yeah, I think I can do it. What do you need?"
"A house call."
The Summers gallery, Sunnydale, California. February 17, 2001
Joyce Summers looked down at the paper on her desk. It felt odd, doing this macabre task...
One which was slightly less macabre than finding a train car full of slaughtered passengers. An act which thankfully had not taken place in this world a few days ago, as Drusilla was currently very far away from the Californian Hellmouth.
In any case, Joyce knew that Buffy and the others would disapprove if they knew what she was really up to. They had protested enough when they thought she was coming in just to select a gift for a friend...
If they knew that she was doing some work over some misdirected Greek amphorae while she waited for the friend, well - they would be over at the gallery so fast, that it would look like they'd teleported there.
Her assistant Regina knew, but Joyce had convinced her to not tell anyone. Regina was now in front, dealing with the few customers who had come during this slow Saturday morning. It was still too early for the casual art collectors to make their way to the gallery; no doubt they were still at home, sipping their cappuccinos and reading the paper.
The door chime rang. After a few seconds, Regina buzzed on the intercom. "Joan's here."
"Go ahead, and send her in," Joyce replied.
Presently, Joan Lemke walked into the office. "Hello Joyce," the CPA for the gallery greeted the owner.
"Hello, Joan. Sorry to drag you away from your son..." Joan Lemke had delivered a bouncing baby boy back in December.
And the good woman smiled at the mention of her offspring. "Oh, no bother. I thought I'd let Josef have some quiet time alone with Aaron Joshua."
"Still, I hate making a new mother leave her child's side," Joyce said apologetically.
Joan waved her hand. "Really, don't worry about it. Actually, I did most of the work at home while AJ slept." She sat down across the desk from Joyce, and opened up the attaché case she had been carrying. Joan then spread the papers on the desk.
"Everything's here, just like you wanted. I had the lawyers look it over, and they say it should work exactly as you intend."
Joyce looked over the papers. "Rupert is set up as the administrator of the trust, right?"
Joan nodded. "Yes, he'll oversee everything. Your girls will be well taken care of. The house will be paid off, and the expenses for its upkeep will be no problem - for at least five years."
Joyce smiled sadly. "Good. In case something does happen, I do *not* want to leave them wanting for anything!"
Joan hesitated for a second. "Joyce, is everything all right? I mean...as far as I know, your surgery last year went well and all. You're getting better. Is there some reason why you're double-checking all this now?"
"No particular reason. It just seemed like a good time to do it," Joyce said, kinda lamely. {Well, after all, I can't very well say that a dead prescient friend of my daughter - a friend at one time, anyway - wrote a letter before he got killed, telling me that I would die this coming week! }
However, Joan seemed to accept the reason Joyce gave. "Well, it makes sense. And Josef and I have to start thinking about this for AJ. We'll probably even do the same thing! 'Course, I think we're gonna have to have a different name for the trust. I mean - this Xander Harris must have been great guy for you to name the trust after him, but I think I want something else for my son..."
Washington, D.C. February 18, 2001
"We've looked at the figures coming out of Cleveland. And there's a definite increase in paranormal activity, from last year! Nothing major, but enough for us to take note that *something's* going on," the former FBI agent named Fletcher said from his place at the conference table.
"What does Lockley say?" Cleburne asked from the head of the table.
"She said the Cleveland PD have noticed it too. The local brass, they're trying to figure out how to respond - without admitting to something that the papers would have a field day with," Fletcher replied
"Tell her to blame it all on gangs, that get high on PCP," Xander said with a sarcastic smile. "That was the party line for the police in Sunnydale, back in the day. Probably still is..."
Fletcher nodded at that. "Sounds like a possibility, I'll definitely pass that on to her."
"So, what does she say about the Slayer?" Cleburne suddenly asked. And it took Xander a second to realize that he meant Kennedy, and not Buffy.
"Young, impetuous, aggressive - and for some reason, pretty flirty," Fletcher said.
Several soft laughs echoed from those around the conference table, Harris included - as he managed to think about what he knew regarding the brunette Chosen One, without wincing. "Okay, more than I wanted to know..."
Cleburne looked at the list in front of him. "What about the Watchers?"
Monsignor Bentallo answered that one. "Quentin Travers is definitely out of the picture, from this point on. And Wyndham-Pryce appears to have taken over as the new head of the Council."
"Wesley?" Xander asked in confusion.
"No, Roger. Although he does have a son named Wesley," Bentallo explained. "The man has already sent word to the Special Office that he desires to affect a reconciliation, and there are also hints that they will want us to intercede on their behalf - with your organization."
"We're hearing the same thing from some other organizations, as a matter of fact," Irving Hollins said from his place at the table. "And I think it is something worth exploring."
Cleburne raised an eyebrow at that. "Well, that's something for the Committee to decide how to respond to."
"How's it coming, assembling a new Committee?" the U.S. Navy SeAL nicknamed Red asked.
"As well as could be expected. We should have the Committee completely reconstituted by the end of the month," Esther Marcum declared from the end of the table. "And for the record, we're intentionally going outside the normal circles in recruiting new members. The old Committee was too heavy on spooks and military types. We want some new blood, and a fresh viewpoint on our problems."
"Hence Mr. Nabbit, despite his situation with that demon brothel," the Wizard explained. "We want some parties involved whose lives are not solely dedicated to government work."
Cleburne decided to get the meeting back on track. "Has everyone read the report on the situation in West Virginia? On account of I've got to admit that dealing with a coven of teenage witches on a power trip, is a new one on me..."
1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, California. Later that day
The quiet of the Sunday afternoon was shattered, by the ringing of the phone. Buffy hurried to answer it, grateful for the distraction from her schoolwork. As Joyce had insisted that Buffy not let up on her college studies, despite the approaching date that they were all dreading.
They didn't speak of it openly, but Buffy had noticed that everyone's plans seemed to be grouped into the category of pre- and post- February 21st. As three days from now, was the date Joyce Summers was supposed to die from a brain aneurysm - according to the letter from the believed-to-be-deceased Xander Harris.
"Summers residence," Buffy answered the phone, ceasing her woolgathering.
"Joyce Summers, please."
Buffy thought the voice on the other end sounded familiar. "May I ask who's calling?" She was just a tad protective of her mother right now.
"It's Buffy, isn't it? Ah, I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Dr. Chalmers. I assisted in the surgery on your mother last year?"
Buffy instantly remembered the doctor, and more importantly what Jonathan Levinson had learned about him. That he was one of the top surgeons in the Navy, if not the country. And the blonde college girl had been very relieved that someone of his caliber had been operating on her mother.
The Slayer instantly started to smile as she replied, "Oh, yeah, I *do* remember you Dr. Chalmers. And hey, thank you again for helping my mother-"
"Just doing my job, ma'am." For some reason, Buffy found it odd that a man like Chalmers would refer to her as "ma'am". She was barely more than a teenager, after all. "Is your mother home?"
"Yeah, hold on a second-" Buffy put down the phone, and went to get her mother.
"Joyce Summers."
"Mrs. Summers, hello. This is Dr. Chalmers."
"Oh, good afternoon! Uh, I didn't know that doctors checked up on their patients during the weekends," Joyce joked.
"Some of us still do," Chalmers responded. "And on that subject, I'm going to be back in Sunnydale on the 20th. I'm hoping that you'll be able to come in for some follow-up exams and tests? I want to make sure that your recovery is proceeding smoothly."
Joyce was almost struck mute by Chalmers' question. Buffy looked questioningly at her mother's look of confusion.
"Mrs. Summers?"
"Oh, I'm sorry Dr. Chalmers. I was just, uh, mentally reviewing my calendar for the 20th..." Joyce saw Buffy's eyebrows rise up at the mention of the day. "But, er, yes - I can make myself available to come in and meet with you. What time do you want me to meet you - and where?"
"Ten o'clock should be fine. I can use an office over at Sunnydale Memorial for the procedure, and I'll be sure to get your file from your current doctor. If that's all right with you?"
Joyce nodded. "Yes, of course. Ten o'clock at the hospital. I'll see you then." She hung up the phone. "Well, that was odd," she said to Buffy.
"Mom? What was all that about?" her eldest daughter asked.
"Dr. Chalmers wants me at the hospital on Tuesday, for some tests," Joyce explained briefly.
Buffy immediately felt joy. {Yes! Mom will be in the hospital on that day. That means an overnight stay, right? Which is of the good, as Xander never said when exactly during the day in question *it* happened. So, so - I won't have to force any doctors and nurses to constantly stand watch over Mom, or whatever! }
Joyce noticed the change on Buffy's face. "It certainly seems a bit strange he picked that day, I have to say..."
"Well, I say never look a gift horse in the mouth!" the Slayer exclaimed. "Mom, this is like the perfect opportunity for you to spend the day there, as well as the 21st..."
A shadow seemed to pass over Joyce's face. "Honey, if he finds nothing wrong, I might not be able to-"
"MOM! We all know what's gonna happen, so for God's sake - just lie your ass off! Say that you're feeling all oogy or whatever, and they won't kick you outta there. Not if they don't want the rest of us to sue that damn hospital for everything they've got, if you-" Buffy then shut up, not wanting to say it.
"Honey, the doctor didn't say anything about me staying overnight. He just said that he wanted to do some tests," Joyce tried to calm down her daughter.
Buffy crossed her arms and looked at her mother for a second. Then a smile spread across her face. "I can fix that." She walked over and picked up the phone. The Chosen One then pressed a few buttons, "I bet you don't even know that our phone can do this, right?" she said to her mother.
"Buffy, what *are* you doing?" Joyce asked hesitantly.
Buffy didn't say anything, as she listened to the phone for a few seconds. "Dr. Chalmers, this is Joyce Summers' daughter Buffy. Yeah, listen, about those tests you want to do Tuesday? Well, Mom's not been sleeping very well. Uh-huh, my sister and I are really getting worried. I mean, you don't think it could be connected to the tumor - do you?" She listened for a second, ignoring her mother's attempts to get her attention.
"Maybe it would help, if you could observe her sleep at the hospital?" Buffy listened again and smiled. "Yeah, I agree completely, a nap might not be enough - an overnight stay for observation would be best. Okay, we'll make sure she has an overnight bag. Thank you, doctor. We'll see you bright and early Tuesday morning!" She hung up the phone, and smiled at her mother.
"Buffy..." Joyce said in a firm tone.
"You can be mad at me all you want, Mom, hell - you can even ground me till I'm 30, if you like! Just as long as you're alive to do it, that's all I care about!"
Joyce looked at her daughter for a second, she then suddenly took a few steps over and fiercely hugged her oldest child.
Richmond, Virginia. February 19, 2001
Xander felt himself being knocked to the ground. He then cursed loudly, as he rolled up off the training mat.
"You know, kid, I understand that you're not back up to full strength yet - because of the whole Pylea thing. Still, you're not concentrating! Get your mind back in the game..." Cleburne said, as he waited for Xander to stand all the way back up.
Xander straightened himself out. "Just letting you get over-confident, old man. And when you're all cocky and the like, I'll kick your ass..."
Cleburne smirked, as Xander and he circled each other. The Marine colonel had taken up training Xander again, as part of his therapy. It wasn't too rough yet, as the doctors hadn't cleared Harris for full contact martial arts training. Still, it was enough that Xander being distracted led to a higher-than-normal number of knockdowns from his trainer.
Xander launched an attack, which Cleburne easily parried. Cleburne then counter-attacked and caught Xander by surprise with a leg sweep. Once again, Harris tumbled to the floor.
Cleburne stood there with his hands in his hips, and looked at his charge. "Kid, look. I know why you're worried, a really bad day for Mrs. Summers is coming soon. I can understand why you'd be worked up over it-"
"What do you know about that?" Xander said at once.
Cleburne thought for a second. "Kid, Esther's met your parents. That's how I know you had a really shitty kind of life, even before this whole future knowledge thing was dumped into your lap. And for a while there, how Joyce Summers was more of a mom to you than your biological mother was..."
Cleburne held up his hands, to stop the attempted interruption from Xander. "Kid, *of course* you're all torn up about the fact that she might die. However, you've done all that you can. You've told us about it, and we've taken all possible steps to try and prevent it."
"I can't help feeling though that I could have done more, that I *could* do more," Xander replied.
"Yeah? What, exactly? The surgery went as well as it could have. She got the best treatment possible, during and afterwards. And Bert is on his way there right now, to keep an eye on her for the next few days. I mean, other than going to medical school and performing the surgery yourself, what else is there you could have done?" Cleburne asked.
Xander clenched his fists for a second in frustration. "You don't know what it was like, the first time around. I can't just sit here and do nothing!" he almost shouted.
"No, and you shouldn't. What you can do is stay here, and recover from your own little trauma. You can focus a little, and train hard enough to get your edge back. You can make sure that the only thing that threatens Mrs. Summers in the future, is paper cuts from the invoices at her gallery. You do your job, and let the experts do theirs."
Xander looked questioningly at Cleburne. "And what exactly would my job be, nowadays?"
Cleburne took a combat stance. "For now, it's not constantly getting your ass kicked by me..." {Yeah, hopefully I'll kick his ass so hard, he won't think to ask that question again for a while.} Joshua thought, as he and Xander started sparring again.
Washington, D.C. Later that day
At the Israeli embassy, things were not exactly looking good for Rachael Weitz.
"You slept with him. And yet, Harris STILL hasn't confided anything to you?" her immediate superior in the Mossad demanded.
The female spy groaned, as she noticed one of the embassy officials named Moshe Greenberg staring at her in disbelief. The brass had only now found out about her little Valentine's Day present, and were no doubt wondering why she hadn't instantly reported it as a sign of good progress. "It's not that simple-"
"Ma echpat li?" the Washington station chief slipped into his native tongue.
"Yes, you should care!" Rachael replied in English, and rather heatedly. "He's spent years in a hell world, that none of us can even begin to imagine. And Alexander just came back from a place where the demons brutally tortured him for days, nonstop, to get information! Think about it; if THEY couldn't get him to crack, what makes you think anyone human could? Besides..." Weitz then shut herself up.
Greenberg knew what she had been about to say, though. "You didn't do it for your country, did you? You *wanted* that American..."
The Mossad officer looked concerned. "It's obvious you've lost your objectivity, Weitz. You should-"
"Be replaced? Sent home?" Rachael interrupted. "I wouldn't recommend trying it. Anyone new would have to spend months trying to worm her way into his affections, and there's no guarantee that she'll ever get any further than I already have! Besides, Alexander's information is only good for another two years now; do you honestly want to lose any more time and opportunity than you have to?"
The two Israelis looked at each other, not liking that - but unable to argue with her logic, either. "We'll contact Tel Aviv, and get our orders. In the meantime - don't leave the embassy," the station chief warned Rachael.
The brunette nodded, and quickly left the room. "What do you think?" Moshe asked his companion.
The intelligence official shrugged. "She has a point, time *is* running out for us. And the fact remains, Weitz did finally succeed in getting into that meshuggener's pants! Even if she's now compromised, the woman's still our best bet at learning everything the prize knows..."
Greenberg nodded. "Then we're agreed? Weitz will continue to work on Harris, and I'll have someone ready to yank her out - if it ever appears that he's completely turned her."
"Good, and personally I hope we won't have to go that far. Can you imagine the conversation we would have to have with the old man, if we did that?" the intelligence officer said with a sigh.
Sunnydale Memorial Hospital, Sunnydale, California. February 20, 2001
The automatic door slid open, as the Summers women approached it. Joyce led the way, carrying an overnight bag. Following her were Buffy and Dawn.
"Mom, how about you teach me to drive this weekend? Come on, it's got to be safer than letting Buffy drive all the time," Dawn was saying to her mother.
"HEY!" an indignant Buffy said immediately.
"Dawn, you're still two years away from your Driver's Ed course," Joyce said while ignoring Buffy's outburst, as secretly - she kind of agreed with Dawn's assessment of Buffy's driving skills. She still remembered what her jeep Cherokee had looked like, after the night of the band candy incident...
"Well, yeah, but you can still teach me how to drive. Maybe we could go to that really big parking lot out behind the site of the new high school? There's nothing there I could hit..." Dawn looked hopefully at her mother, her teenage enthusiasm apparent on her face.
Buffy asserted herself at this time. "No way, that's only four days from now. She'll need time to rest up and recover from these tests!"
"Buffy, I'm not in that bad a shape. After all, I drove us here this morning," Joyce soothingly said to her daughter.
{Yeah, and like I was happy about that} Buffy thought to herself. "Mom, I think you, actually all of us, need to take a break and enjoy some quiet time after this week. Come on, Mom - you *know* how everyone's been on pins and needles recently. I think some quiet time for the three of us is just what the doctor ordered!"
Joyce smiled sadly at Buffy. {She's right. Everyone has been out of sorts over my upcoming death. Well, possible death. I know *I* need some vacation time when all this is over! }
And thus, she turned to Dawn. "Dawn sweetie, maybe we could do it another weekend. This Saturday, we'll have a girl's only weekend."
Dawn face's fell for a second. {But Kevin wants to go see a movie with me Saturday night!} But after a few seconds, Dawn's features lightened up. {Come on, this is your mother we're talkin' about. She wants to spend time with you! } "Okay Mom, we'll do the video and popcorn thing." She then hugged Joyce lightly.
The middle-aged woman smiled back, as Buffy joined in the hug. They broke the hug as Dr. Chalmers approached them.
"Mrs. Summers. Ladies," Chalmers greeted the Summers women.
Joyce subconsciously straightened her dress. "Dr. Chalmers. Good morning..." Buffy and Dawn likewise greeted the Navy doctor before Joyce continued, "I hope the hospital food is better than last time?" she joked.
Chalmers smiled. "Well, I'm not sure what I can do about that. However, I do have some honey that my brother sent me. That might make some of the food more palatable." He motioned for the Summers trio to follow him. "If you'll come with me, we'll get started." The four of them thus made their way further into the hospital.
The Magic Box. Later that day
"Thank you for your purchase. Please, come again and spend more money!" Anya said to the customer, as she handed their bagged purchases to him. "Oh, and I hope the toad's liver cures you of that unsightly wart. If not, come back and we'll sell you something else!"
The customer looked up at that. "Hey, are you gonna refund my money if this doesn't work?"
Suddenly, a look of horror crossed Anya's face. "What? No, no refunds. That's against store policy, we don't refund the purchase price-" she sputtered out.
Giles hurried over before Anya could say anything else. "Sir, just let us know if that doesn't work, and we'll see what we can work out. All right?"
Nodding, the customer thanked them and left the store. And as the door closed behind him, Anya turned towards the former Ripper. "GILES! We can't let him think he'll get a refund! He might not do it right then. Because once you use up the liver, you know how we can't resell it! The business would lose money. I say we should give him store credit, but that's it!"
Giles held his hands up to stop the verbal torrent from his business partner. "Anya, remember that sometimes it's better to lose a little money in order to gain customer loyalty. That way, they'll continue to patronize our establishment-?"
A look of comprehension spread over Anya's face. "Right! And so they'll spend more money, long-term. Yes, I see now where you're going with this..."
Giles found himself almost chuckling at Anya's statement. At times, her drive for capitalistic success could be entertaining...
But at other times, that and her lack of familiarity with human customs could be so *very* frustrating.
It didn't help that she and her boyfriend Andrew seemed to be constantly fighting nowadays, either. Mr. Wells just didn't seem to have the patience or social skills to deal with the former vengeance demon. Well, not that many people would have...
For example, just a few days ago Rupert had heard them discussing Star Trek of all things. Anya had been saying that if that TV show (which Andrew had forced her to watch with him) had been reality, in the old days she would have heaped so much vengeance on Captain Kirk for all those women - that her services would have been booked solid, for *years* on end.
Andrew had tried to convince her that that wasn't what the show was actually about...
But Anya had then responded by accusing her boyfriend of being a blind idiot, anyone could see that popular entertainment in the 1960s had been tailor-made for a population consisting of biased, chauvinistic males - that thought they could do whatever they wanted to women, and easily get away with it.
And then things had *really* gone downhill after that...
At times - Giles honestly wished that Anya had found someone else better suited to helping her readapt to human life, to be her paramour.
At any rate, Rupert shook his head to clear his mind of his previous line of thought. "Anya, has this week's inventory been checked? I think we're running low on several types of witchcraft supplies-"
"Well, y'know, if you just charged Willow, Tara and Jonathan for everything they used - that wouldn't be a problem!" Anya faced Giles with her hands on her hips.
"Anya. You know as well as I do that they need those supplies to help out with, with the vampire slaying. Also - they, they need them for their attempts to return Ms. Madison to her human form," Giles replied.
"Yeah, and while we're on that subject? This is a magic shop, not a pet shop! They keep bringing that rat-"
"Ms. Madison," Giles corrected his partner.
Anya rolled her eyes. "Ms. Madison, around here. I mean, I was there during the Black Death! And so I *really* don't want to go through that again, in human form. This body is ridiculously frail and fragile. It might get sick, y'know?"
Giles momentarily had his thoughts shifted to the events going on over at the Sunnydale Memorial hospital, right about now.
The Watcher knew that Joyce had checked herself into the hospital for observations and tests. He had almost gone with her, but the woman had convinced him to try to maintain a façade of normalcy for her girls by going into work today.
However, the Englishman fully intended to leave early, after all - he really didn't worry about Anya not being able to run the store properly. When it came to business matters, Ms. Jenkins was easily the most competent of the Scooby gang.
"Anya, please. I'm sure that Ms. Madison is not carrying the plague; Willow keeps her cage very clean, after all. I'm sure you've seen that for yourself?"
Anya harrumphed at that. "Sure. But still...a rat's a rat, Giles. And if we're going to have it here all the time, at the very least we ought to make them pay a housekeeping fee..."
Anya suddenly had a look on her face that positively screamed 'idea'. "Hey, you know - there has to be other transmogrification victims out there! Maybe we can make money by having those three rent out their services? As subcontractors of course, that way we don't have to pay them benefits or 401(k)s, and maybe we can even..."
Giles rolled his eyes at that as he swiftly tuned her out, wondering just how early he could leave from work today.
Sunnydale Memorial Hospital, Sunnydale, California. Later that evening
{You know - Dr. Chalmers was right, this honey is absolutely great!} Joyce thought to herself, as she took another bite out of a honey-covered biscuit.
The television in front of the bed droned on, with some mindless news story. Buffy and Dawn sat on either side of her bed, and looked bored out of their skulls listening to the guy on KTLA.
The tests performed by Dr. Chalmers had been tiring, and there had been quite a few of them. Joyce had not enjoyed the MRI, she'd felt it was claustrophobic and was glad to be out of it. She had also been poked and prodded so much, that she knew now how her mother's pincushion must have felt.
Her daughters had been with her every moment of the day, when allowed by Dr. Chalmers. Giles had shown up about mid-afternoon, and he was now sitting in the chair at end of the bed.
Willow and most of the other Scoobies had made appearances throughout the day too. Anya and Andrew hadn't shown up though, and to be perfectly honest - Joyce was silently glad of that. {Who knows what sort of tactless comment Anya might make, and I really couldn't put up with Andrew's geeky chatter right now.}
Giles said he had left the two of them at the Magic Box to oversee things there. So Joyce just swallowed the bite of the biscuit she had just taken, then reached out and tapped Buffy's shoulder.
"What, Mom?" Buffy asked.
"Why don't you take your sister and go home, get some rest?" Joyce said.
"No! I'm staying here, for as long as you're here! School and homework can wait!" Dawn said with finality, before Buffy could answer.
The Slayer looked at her sister, then at her mother. "What she said goes double for me too," Buffy declared.
"But girls, there's really nothing you can do here. It's better for you to go home and relax," Joyce explained.
"Mom, how the hell are we supposed to do that? Knowing what we know? Forget it, Dawn and I are going to spend every single moment with you that we can - until we know you're out of danger. And since you won't be out of danger until tomorrow night, well - you've got two more shadows till then."
Joyce looked ready to object as Buffy went on, "Mom, we both need to do this. I couldn't stand the thought of not being here if...something happened. I've already gone through that once, with Graduation day. I am *not* going to have that happen again!" Dawn and Giles recognized the tone of voice that Buffy adopted as the 'Me Slayer, do what I say' tone.
Joyce looked at her daughter for a few seconds. "I can't talk you into sleeping at home tonight?" she asked.
Buffy shook her head. "Not a chance."
Joyce nodded. "Okay, but you still need to go and get a change of clothes-"
"Already taken care of," Dawn piped up. "Both Buffy and I brought overnight bags this morning."
Joyce smiled at that. "Well then, I hope one of you brought a deck of cards. Because if I remember correctly, I owe you both a good lesson or two at poker from the last time I was in the hospital..."
141 Embury Street, Los Angeles, California. Later that night
Cordelia stretched out on the couch in her apartment, as the TV played. She couldn't stretch out too far though, as she was sharing the couch with Chuck - the aerobics instructor from her gym.
Cordy had indeed found the man at that club, during Valentine's Day. They had gotten along quite well, dancing and talking the night away; so much so that Cordy had failed to spot Angel and Darla making out, instead of looking for vampires...
Since that night, the two humans had seen or talked to each other every day and night. With Cordy's visions occurring less and less nowadays, she actually had plenty of time for a social life - and to be honest, the former May Queen wanted so very much to have one. It gave her a sense of normalcy, that she hadn't really known since her junior year of high school.
Queen C really enjoyed that, and had taken to it with a gusto.
So much so that Cordy had fallen asleep in Chuck's arms, while they were watching TV. And fortunately, Dennis hadn't seemed to give them any problems - unlike what had happened with Wilson Christopher, ages ago...
"Hey," Ms. Chase whispered to her date, as she suddenly woke up.
Chuck leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "Hey there, sleepyhead. I'll have to remember for the future, that Keanu Reeves movies make you fall asleep."
Cordy laughed at that. "Well, he's always frowning and scrunching his forehead a lot. Kinda reminds me of my old palomino horse, and someone at work...anyway, I get enough of that sort of thing at the office!"
"Keanu reminds you of someone you work with? Oh yeah, I think I've met him. And, hey - does that guy ever smile?"
Chuck had indeed met Angel the time that Angel Investigations had helped out at the gym. Angel had been his normal brooding self; however, Chuck had gotten along well enough with Darla, which had led to her informally acting as a matchmaker for the two.
Darla was clearly delighted that Cordy and Chuck were hitting it off. And the female vampire was slowly adapting, into the soul-having style of life. Of course, she had the advantage of not having to worry about losing her soul...
Still, she had her bad days with the memories of her exploits as a bloodsucking monster. And elsewhere right now, she and Angel were investigating a series of black masses, blood sacrifices and totems! So Darla was just happy that she could do something to make a friend happy, when the occasion arose.
And Cordy *was* happy. {Got to remember to thank Darla one day, for hooking me up like this.} Cordy thought as she reached over, and grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl that they had popped before the movies had started.
"So, what's next on the movie list?" Cordelia asked her new boyfriend.
"Well, it depends if I can hear anything over you talking in your sleep. We need something that'll keep you awake..."
"How about something romantic? And I talk in my sleep?" Cordy asked. This was new, no one had ever mentioned that before.
Chuck nodded. "Yeah, you kept muttering something. It sounded like you were apologizing to someone, and asking for forgiveness? You kept calling out for someone named Sander. Hey, did you do something to tick off the people at Kentucky Fried Chicken?" Chuck joked.
The way the two of them were sitting, Chuck couldn't see Cordelia's face. If he had, he would have instantly known that something was *very* wrong; and, possibly, saved himself a great deal of angst in the future...
But as it was, Cordy had a few seconds to regain her composure before she responded.
"Guy from high school, actually. I, uh, treated him kinda harshly, and I've always regretted what I did back then," Cordelia said in an even tone.
"Ex-boyfriend?" Chuck asked cautiously, as his boyfriend male rival antenna went up.
"Well, yeah. Thing is I broke up with him in a really nasty way, three years ago. And, um, I never got the chance to apologize for acting the way I did, before he died."
Chuck considered that, and relaxed. After all, a dead ex was one he didn't have to worry about her hooking back up with. "Well, you were just a teenager back then; you probably didn't know any better," he said comfortingly.
Ms. Chase sighed deeply, an act that did not go unnoticed. "Actually, I did. Or I should have known..." Cordy replied.
"No," Chuck said, as he hugged his girlfriend tightly. "Come on, I know I don't have the complete story yet; but I'm sure you had no way of knowing how bad it would get. It wasn't your fault!" he insisted, having no way of knowing that indeed a fair amount of what happened *had* been her fault.
After all, she *had* chosen to walk away from Xander that night outside the Bronze. "Chuck..." Cordelia stared to say.
"Sweetheart - live in the now, that's my motto. And if this guy was lucky enough to date you back then, I'm sure he'd be smart enough to want you to get on with your life now," Chuck said, unknowingly repeating what the image of Xander had said to Cordelia in the museum many months ago.
There was an uncomfortable pause. "Hey, enough bad thoughts. What movie do you want to watch?" Chuck asked, hoping to change the tone of the date back to something he would be more comfortable with.
Sunnydale Memorial Hospital, Sunnydale, California. February 21, 2001
"Come on, Mom. Let's get you home," Dawn said as she led her mother, with Buffy trailing behind them to their SUV in the hospital parking garage, during the late afternoon.
The tests and observation had finally come to an end. And Joyce was glad of this fact. Actually, Joyce was more glad that Dr. Chalmers had given her a clean bill of health...
Unlike in the history Xander remembered, her brain hadn't gotten fried sometime during the morning - probably due to Chalmers' superior surgical skills. And shortly after lunch, the man had come to Joyce's room and told her the results of the tests. The doctor had explained everything in detail to Joyce, Giles and the girls. He even had the MRI results and X-rays to show them.
The physician had explained what he thought the long-term effects of her surgery would be. He'd also talked about the potential aneurysm that the tests had uncovered. It had been a tricky one to find, almost going unnoticed. Chalmers didn't come out and actually say that...
However, Joyce and the others were able to silently figure that out from the knowledge they'd had provided to them, by Xander's letter.
Chalmers had been able to detail the steps that had been decided upon during the examinations today, to ensure that the aneurysm did not cause Joyce problems in the future. He also detailed the things she and her daughters should be on the lookout for.
"In my professional opinion however, it looks like we've gotten everything. These tests we've run show no signs of any current problems. I'm cautiously hopeful that you're out of the woods," he had explained.
Bert had then set up a program for Joyce to follow for the next few months. But to be honest, the things the doctor had suggested didn't differ that much from what Joyce was already doing. He had also left his number to call, if she should have any questions or if anything happened.
All this had been reassuring to Joyce's oldest daughter, although a suspicious little voice at the back of Buffy's mind had whispered that there was something...off, about all this.
Something not quite making sense. After all - why would this very busy and respected doctor come all the way to Sunnydale from the other side of the country, just for her mother? And spend almost two days concentrating on her case?
However, these thoughts remained in the back of Buffy's mind, as the daughter's joy over her mother's improvement trumped all other concerns.
With their concerns answered, the girls were just anxious now to get Joyce home. Giles had left about half an hour earlier, supposedly to take care of an emergency at the Magic Box. However, Buffy knew that the Englishman had gone to the Summers home; the rest of the Scoobies were there too, setting up a welcome home party for Joyce.
Thinking of Giles, Buffy thought to herself that the relationship between her mother and her Watcher was obviously proceeding to a new level. And the Slayer admitted to herself that she found it kinda odd. However, she was also coming to accept it.
The Chosen One thought it was kind of cute, anyway, that Giles was clearly uncomfortable when Buffy was around, and the subject was hinted at. {Oh, what the hell, I suppose I should pull Giles aside soon, and just give him my blessing already. After all, Mom could do worse. A *lot* worse! Besides, now that Dad's in Spain, they'll be good for each other.}
Buffy's attention was suddenly drawn back to reality, by Dawn's squeal of delight. Buffy looked around and saw the reason for it, as Kevin approached the three Summers women. "Kevin, what are you doing here?" Dawn asked.
"Uh, I was at the hospital visiting my uncle. And I was getting ready to walk home, when I saw you guys," Kevin explained.
Dawn ran over and grabbed Kevin's hand, almost dragging him over to Joyce. "Mom, this is Kevin Berman. He goes to school with me!"
Joyce smiled at the young man, whose discomfort was obvious. "Kevin, nice to meet you at last. I've heard quite a bit about you," Joyce said, as she shook his hand.
"Really?" Kevin said, with a look of apprehension.
"Oh, yes. Dawn's been quite talkative about you and her friends, lately. Also, I think I've heard Buffy mention your name once or twice." At that Buffy, Dawn and Kevin all blushed a little bit.
"Mom!" Buffy and Dawn said in unison.
Joyce continued smiling, sometimes it was fun to be a mother. "Kevin, it's getting late. Would you like us to give you a ride home?"
The boy shrugged. "I guess..."
Dawn's smile threatened to split her face wide open at hearing that. She had been hoping for that exact question to be asked. She figured this was a great way to introduce Kevin to her mother, without her big sister getting a chance to run interference; and from the look on Buffy's face, the blonde had clearly figured that out.
Dawn decided to press her advantage. "Mom, maybe Kevin could come over and eat dinner with us tonight? I mean, I'm sure I could fix something real quick-"
"Dawn!" Buffy almost hissed at her sister.
"Buffy, please! It would be nice to have some extra company tonight. Plus, it gives me a chance to get to know some of the people in Dawn's life! I mean, I got to know your friends pretty well during high school, so there's no reason why I shouldn't do the same for your sister..." Joyce soothingly said to her eldest daughter. "Why don't you put our bags in the SUV, and we'll then get going?"
Buffy thought about arguing for the barest fraction of a second, figuring the surprise party might be ruined; then she just did as her mother said. Joyce talked as Buffy did so, "Dawn, why don't you and Kevin sit in the back? I'll sit up front in the passenger seat, and Buffy'll drive us back to the house."
"Buffy's driving?" Dawn said in a high-pitched voice. Kevin immediately turned and stared at her, with a concerned look.
"Dawn honey, I'm still a little tired from all the tests. Buffy can drive us home," Joyce explained as she got into the SUV.
"Yeah, I can drive us home! And quit being such a big baby, I'm not that bad a driver!" Buffy whispered in annoyance to her sister.
Dawn took a deep breath, and got into the SUV. Kevin got in on the other side, sitting behind Joyce. He grabbed hold of his girlfriend's hand...and as the two looked into each other's eyes - everything else was quickly forgotten.
Buffy drove the SUV out of the garage and onto the streets of Sunnydale. "Mrs. Summers, I hope you're feeling well?" Kevin then said, deciding that the best way of avoiding the overwhelming temptation Dawn offered - was to concentrate on her mother.
"Yes, thank you, Kevin. I'm feeling much better than I thought I would, when I went into the hospital," Joyce replied, taking a liking to Dawn's friend.
"I hope it was nothing serious?" Kevin asked at once.
Dawn decided to have some fun with her mother, as the SUV arrived at an intersection and the traffic light turned green for them. "Well, actually - Mom's pregnant! Pretty soon I'm going to have a little brother or sister," she said mischievously.
"Dawn-!" Joyce exclaimed in mock horror. She then saw something out of the corner of her eye, a blue blur speeding towards her...
"BUFFY-!" Joyce managed to yell out, before the car running the red light slammed into the side of the SUV with a horrifying crunch and a squeal of tires - and the universe went black.
Richmond, Virginia. The same time
Fred Burkle screamed for Oz in horrified terror, as Xander Harris suddenly collapsed unconscious in the middle of their conversation.
Sunnydale Memorial Hospital, Sunnydale, California. Fifteen minutes later
Bert Chalmers checked the office one more time, before he turned out the light. He didn't want to leave anything behind, as he wasn't planning to be back for a long time - and then the man checked his watch. {Good, good, I should make my flight with plenty of time to spare.} the surgeon thought, as he exited the door.
Only to run into a nurse, who was obviously in a big hurry.
"Dr. Chalmers, they need you in the ER - stat! There's been a multi-car collision, and we've got-" She didn't get to finish her statement though, as Bert was already running down the hallway to the stairs that led to the Emergency Room.
1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, California. Five minutes later
Giles hurriedly went over to the ringing phone, as the Scoobies flittered around him doing last-minute preparations for the party - given how Joyce and her kids were expected back any minute now. He grabbed the phone and answered it, "Summers residence."
He listened for a few seconds, turning pale as he did. Willow noticed this, and turned attention to her old mentor.
"Yes, yes, we'll be there immediately," Rupert said in horror, as he hung up.
"Giles, what's wrong?" Willow asked, and by now the rest of the room had sensed that something was amiss.
Giles turned and looked at them all, "We have to get to the hospital. Right now," the man said firmly, getting his emotions under control.
"But, Joyce is coming here-" Jonathan started to say.
"I said *now*!" Giles shouted, as he ran towards the front door - and everyone quickly followed.
TBC...