Character: Buffy Summers
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2515
Setting: The Harvest

Buffy paused when she reached the little concrete step, staring at the door. Through the frosted glass, she could make out lights and the smudged shadows of furniture and a couple plants. She'd been on this stoop just the other day, but tonight it all suddenly felt like foreign territory, like a place she didn't belong. For a moment, she thought about turning and walking away, of slipping back into the night and pretending as if she'd never come, as if she'd forgotten all about the plans they'd made for the night. The part of her that was afraid wanted to, but the rest of her so desperately wanted to stay, and so she reached forward to tap the doorbell.

She fingered the cross at her chest as she waited for an answer. She hadn't taken it off for two days now, whether for protection or for morale support she didn't know.

Nervousness flickered through her gut when she saw a shape moving toward the door, and suddenly she felt a little sick, though she didn't know why.

The door swung open, and she was enveloped in a burst of warm air that smelled like kettle corn and fish.

"Buffy!" Xander said, smiling as he looked at her. There was chocolate smeared across the right side of his face.

She felt the nervousness melt away, and she relaxed. She didn't know why, but she had almost expected him to be angry with her. "Xander," she greeted, smiling back.

He stepped aside, and she walked across the threshold. "Glad you made it," he said. "You're just in time to find out whether Esteban's dead or if he faked it. Either way, José's gonna make his move on Maria tonight."

Her brows creased. His words had come so far out of left field she didn't even know how to process them. "What?" she said.

"Dos Hombres y Una Mujer," he replied in broken Spanish as Willow walked into the foyer. "The telenovela in which we learn that nada es para siempre. The only way to spend a Wednesday night."

"Especially when you're broke," Willow supplied. She was gripping a bowl of popcorn about the size of a small car engine to her chest. "Hey, Buffy," she said.

"Hey," she said.

The three of them stood there for a moment; Xander glanced into the living room. "Story time," he said, then began walking away. The girls followed him.

"How was patrol?" Willow asked. "That's what you call it, right?"

"Right," Buffy said. She had told them that that was what she was going to do before coming. "All's quiet in Sunnydale." She'd told her mother she was going out to see her friends, but instead she had walked through what looked like an endless row of headstones in a cemetery that seemed to go on forever. Her walk had produced no monsters, whether because there weren't any or because they'd recognized her and ran she didn't know.

"That's good," Willow said. "That it's quiet."

They walked into her bedroom, and Xander immediately dropped into a beanbag chair. Willow dragged a wicker chair in front of her cabinet, opened it to reveal a television, then fished around for a remote. Once she had it, she tossed it to Xander, curled up in her chair, and set the bowl on the floor.

Buffy watched them, unsure of where to go.

Willow noticed, "You can take the bed, Buffy. It's got one of those foam things."

Realizing her awkwardness, Buffy slipped off her tennis shoesand hopped on the bed. Xander flipped on the television, and after a few moments of channel switching, the sounds of Spanish filled the air. It was a car commercial, and Buffy reached down for a small handful of popcorn, her eyes already trained on the TV, though she had no idea what anyone was saying.

"What're we watching again?" she asked when the ad had ended, replaced by something that was either carpet cleaning or bug control.

"Something that defies explanation," Xander said.

Buffy looked at Willow.

"José and Esteban are brothers and they both love Maria," she said. "Only Esteban's engaged and José was just diagnosed with either terminal cancer or some kind of flesh-eating bacterial thing. I'm not too clear."

"Oh," she said.

"Maria's three sisters are all married," she continued. "Maria's in love with José, but he hasn't told her he's sick, and we're pretty sure Claudia Elizabeth – that's her sister – slept with him. We're not sure though."

"We're not sure of much," Xander said.

"It's kind of hard to follow," she agreed.

"But Maria's definitely hot."

Both girls looked at him.

"Xander," Buffy said after a beat, "you have chocolate on your face."

His calm expression shattered as horror flashed across his face. "What?" he said, touching fingers to his cheek.

"Here," she said, gesturing around her own lips.

He looked mortified, then began wiping furiously at his face. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asked, looking at Willow. "How long you were you going to let me walk around like this?"

"I was planning to call you tomorrow," she said, eating a single kernel of popcorn.

"Ha ha," he said, not laughing. He dropped his hand. "Is it gone?"

They both leaned forward to study his face.

"You're clear," Buffy said after a beat, rolling back.

He relaxed, then grabbed for a massive handful of popcorn, which he promptly shoved into his mouth.

"It's on," Willow said.

He looked up from his hands, then fumbled for and grabbed the remote. The volume meter went up several degrees, and suddenly the sound of Spanish crooning over quiet piano strokes was blasting from the little television.

Buffy reached for more popcorn, already feeling strangely fascinated by the credit sequence.

They were all quiet for awhile, as the credit sequence faded to what sounded like a "previously on," and as that transitioned to the first act. Buffy didn't have the slightest idea what was going on, and she sensed Xander didn't either, as he occasionally asked Willow what characters were saying. She gathered that José was the one in the hospital bed, that Maria was the one with short, black hair, and that Claudia Elizabeth was the tall one with the long, brown hair. Claudia Elizabeth had indeed slept with José, and by the second act the two of them had started arguing about something.

Their industrial size bowl of popcorn was quickly decimated. By the time the second ad break came around, they were all scrounging for the kernels and Xander was talking about making more. "I'll do it," Buffy volunteered after the second time he mentioned it.

"Really?" he said. "Cool."

"There's another packet on the counter," Willow said. "Want me to come with you?"

"Nah, I got it," she replied, waving her off. "Tell me if I miss anything."

"Okay," she said. "Thanks, Buffy."

"No problem," she rolled off the bed, reached for the bowl, then headed off in search of the kitchen.

As the packet spun around the microwave, Buffy's thoughts drifted from telenovelas and sleazy affairs to matters of more immediacy. She planned to go straight from this house to the library to talk to Giles. She had told him she wanted to see him, and he had said he would be there late, and to stop by whenever she wanted. To some degree, she still didn't really want to see him, but she knew she needed to, and she knew he had sensed at least a few of her conflicting thoughts.

Still, she thought, tapping the open button for the microwave, she'd been nervous coming here tonight, and it had been unnecessary. If Willow and Xander were angry at her for potentially bringing ruin to their lives, they weren't giving any indication.

She dumped the popcorn into the bowl, then headed back for the bedroom. She heard them talking as she approached, and despite herself she stopped, that small, niggling part of her brain afraid they were talking about her.

"I know," Willow was saying. "What'd you tell her?"

"Well, I couldn't tell her what happened," Xander replied. "I just said I hadn't seen him. I think she called the police."

"Oh, god," she paused. "We should tell her something."

"What? Your son's not missing; he was a vampire, but don't worry, I killed him?"

Buffy's breath froze in her throat.

"You didn't kill him, Xander," she said. "You heard what Giles said, what Buffy said."

"I know," he exhaled. "I know. It's just...weird, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," she said.

"We were friends," he said. "Were. The past tenseyness is weird."

"Yeah..." her voice trailed off.

Buffy stood there, gripping the popcorn to her chest. She suddenly felt sad, and as if she had forced her way into a world that didn't want her. Jesse was her fault, just as Tisha and Merrick had been. She felt toxic, and for just a moment she wondered if she would kill her new friends too. The thought was almost too terrible to bear, and again she wanted to run, hard and fast, before she could cause anyone anymore grief.

But then Willow spoke, "I wonder what's taking her. I was sure there was still a package left."

"I don't know," Xander said. "Want me to go check and make sure she's not taking apart the pantry looking for another box?"

"I'll go," she said.

Self-awareness slammed back into her, and Buffy forced herself to walk forward and into the room. "Back," she said, plastering a smile she didn't feel onto her face.

"Oh," Willow said, settling back in her chair. "We were just going to look for you."

"Sorry," she said. "Guess I kinda zoned."

"No worries," she said.

Buffy set the bowl back on the floor, then reclaimed her place on the bed, but this time she couldn't listen to what was going on on the screen. All she could think about was Tisha, and about Jesse. She thought about Giles, and about all the things she would have to tell him not too long from now. Again she found herself wondering how much he knew, about how much he would want to know, and about how much she wanted him to know.

Too late she realized Willow was watching her, and she looked up to meet her eyes.

"You alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Buffy said automatically.

Xander glanced back at her, and then they were both looking at her as the sounds of rapid-fire Spanish filled the gap between them.

"I'm sorry about Jesse," the words suddenly slipped from her lips. She hadn't meant to say them, and it was silent for such a protracted beat she wasn't sure she even had.

"I am too," Xander said, glancing away.

"I, well, I overheard you talking earlier, and I just," she blew out a breath. "I don't know, I'm sorry." She didn't tell them she felt responsible. She didn't want to know if they blamed her.

"It's alright, Buffy," Willow said, then paused, as if reconsidering her words. "Well, not alright, but, you know..." she shrugged out a bit of a helpless gesture. "I know you really tried."

"Yeah," she said, voice tinged with bitterness. "I tried."

The silence between them was punctuated by the sound of synthesizers and Spanish. Somebody was arguing, and whatever they were saying sounded important.

"I know what it's like," she said quietly, so quietly she wasn't sure they'd heard. More words she hadn't meant to voice, that she hoped they hadn't heard. She was staring at a wrinkle in the bedspread.

Willow spoke first, "What?"

So she had really said it. "I know what you feel like," she said. Her words sounded broken.

She heard something, and then she felt the bed compress at her side. "What do you mean?" Willow asked. She was beside her now.

She looked over at her. Suddenly the TV was muted, and silence sucked away all the air in the room. Her mouth seemed paper dry. "I've lost people too," she said.

Concern flashed through Willow's face, followed immediately by a certain sadness. "I'm sorry, Buffy," she said.

They were all sorry, for each other and for themselves.

"What happened?" Xander asked. "Or do you want to talk about it?"

She looked between them, and she realized that she did, and that some part of her had been wanting to tell them since before she'd arrived. "My Watcher, and my best friend," she said, looking down again. "They both died, and I couldn't save them."

"Oh, Buffy," Willow breathed.

"I tried," she said again. "But it's funny how trying feels so much like failure."

"Is that why you're here?" she asked. "Why you moved?"

Memories of New Horizons flashed through her eyes unbidden, of the burning gym and Lothos and the fire, of her parents and that moment when her mother had told her about the divorce. "No," she said. "Well, not really. It contributed."

"Does your mom know?" Xander asked.

"Only about Tisha – my friend," she replied, forcing herself to look back up at them. "She knows I was there, just not really what happened." And god had that cost her.

"Does she know about...you know?"

"That I'm the Chosen One?" she asked. "No." She couldn't continue to look at them, so she directed her eyes at the wrinkle in the bedspread again. "No, she just thinks I'm in some kind of gang, or something like that. That I'm a troublemaker." It was silent for a beat, then two. Apparently they were all struggling for something to say. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean...I dunno. I'm not trying to trivialize at all, I just want you to know I know what it's like, and that I know it's hard."

More silence.

Xander finally broke it, "I think we can all agree life sucks?"

"Yeah," Buffy and Willow both said simultaneously.

"So what do we do?"

Buffy exhaled. "I think we find out if José falls for Claudia Elizabeth's charms. Wil, do you have any ice cream?"

"Strawberry and I think a little butter pecan," she replied.

She nodded, "I think we should just eat all of it."

"I think you're right," Xander said.

They all seemed to rise as one.

"Let's do it," Buffy said.

And so they did.