Chapter 17: The Camp

Arcadia Oaks, January 14th, 2017

"...and not only is he a changeling - a troll who can change his appearance - but he also put a curse on you, Mom!"

Buffy Summers grimaced - behind Jim's back - as the boy finished his explanation. It was the truth, as far as she could tell, but Mrs Lake didn't look like she believed it. She was as bad as Mom about this, in Buffy's opinion. Well, Mom at least hadn't been dating, say Spike. Ew. That would've been… She shuddered.

"Jim! I know you've got some issues with Walter, but this is…" Mrs Lake shook her head. "A changeling troll? That sounds very farfetched."

"Mom! It's the truth! He wants to kill me, and to keep me from killing him, he's put a curse on you so whatever he suffers, you suffer! I saw it happen with a papercut!"

"Yes, Mrs Lake," Claire chimed in. "And we can prove it." She quickly closed the portal and opened a new one. "Not-Enrique!"

"What?"

"I still need to return to Trollmarket," the Troll Mayor said.

"I'll send you back right after this," Claire replied. "Not-Enrique, I need you here!"

"Finally!" Buffy heard Dawn mutter from afar. "What good is a laptop without Internet?" Really, she was so spoiled!

The little changeling arrived and peered through the portal. "What for?"

"Demonstrate your changeling form," Claire told him. After a moment, she added: "Please." And showed her teeth.

The little monster stared at her, then grumbled something in a language Buffy didn't understand. But it changed into a sweet baby.

And Mrs Lake gasped again.

"The real Enrique is kept prisoner by Gunmar. Well, the goblins working for Gunmar," Jim explained. "As long as that's the case, Not-Enrique can take Enrique's form. That's how Strickler managed to become a teacher - he took the place of a real baby and grew up amongst humans."

"The changeling myth is based on real events, Dr Lake," Giles added. "And you are in danger."

"But… a curse? On me?"

"You are the Trollhunter's mother," the old troll said. "It is only natural that Gunmar would attempt to use you as a hostage."

"I wanted to tell you," Jim said, looking at the floor. "But when I worked up the courage to do so, Strickler had already gotten to you, and… I'm sorry!"

Buffy winced again. She knew exactly how that felt. If she had told Mom the truth about vampires, Spike and Darla wouldn't have been able to get her. Although… when she had tried to tell the truth to her parents, she had ended up in an asylum.

"But…" Mrs Lake shook her head. "This is too much. Everything… I had no idea. None at all."

"I'm sorry, Mom, but… I didn't think you'd be happy about me being the Trollhunter, so I didn't tell you."

"You should have! You're risking your life fighting these… trolls!"

"Not these trolls," Buffy corrected her. "The evil trolls." Why was everyone glaring at her? She was just helping.

"Yes, Mom, but… You already have so much on your plate, with your job and all… I didn't want you to worry even more."

"But I did worry even more! I thought you were… with the wrong kind of friends!" Mrs Lake protested. "You were arrested!"

"Who wasn't arrested a few times as a teenager?" Buffy asked, shrugging. "Even Giles here had a wild youth, and he's as stuffy as you can get."

"Buffy!" Giles glared at her.

"What? It's the truth. We know about your rebel days. Before you returned to the tweed and books!" Buffy grinned.

"I wasn't arrested," Claire said. "But only because I wasn't with Jim and Toby yet."

"You probably would've found a better way to handle the museum," Jim told her.

"I should've realised this! I shouldn't… Oh, God. This is all my fault!" Mrs Lake covered her face with her hands and started sobbing.

"Blaming yourself runs in the family, huh?" Buffy looked at Jim.

"Dr Lake, this wasn't your fault. Teenagers tend to keep secrets from their parents. Your son merely chose a greater secret than normal - and without prior knowledge of magic, you couldn't reasonably have been expected to realise that he had been chosen as a champion for trollkind," Giles said with a gentle smile. "You have nothing to blame yourself for."

"I should've told you right away!" Jim said.

And Giles didn't correct him at all! Buffy frowned at her Watcher before smiling at Jim. "Trust me, you couldn't have told your mom. Parents tend to overreact and ignore reality in such cases. Speaking from experience here as a fellow supernaturally powered fighter. You would've been sent to the asylum or given meds."

"I wouldn't…" Mrs Lake trailed off, then covered her face again.

"Anyway," Buffy said - they didn't have unlimited time. And Mrs Lake had been working a double shift or something, and it was way past midnight. Not the best time to handle such revelations. "Let's pack up and get you to your new camping site. Then we need to fetch Xander and Willow. And probably visit this Strickler."

"Yes," Jim agreed.

Great.


Arcadia Oaks, January 15th, 2017

"And that's his home address?" James Lake Jr asked, staring at the house in front of them.

"Willow said so," the Slayer replied. "And she's hacked into your school's system. Of course, it's possible that your troll teacher gave a fake address, but that could backfire too easily, so he probably owns the house at least."

That meant it was unlikely that they would be bothering an innocent family. Still, Jim had expected something a little more… "It looks so average."

"Yeah, I'm definitely missing the dark clouds and ominous chanting. Not much of an evil lair." The Slayer shrugged. "Though it's so banal, it's almost evil through sheer… boring-ness?"

"I don't think that's a word," Claire commented.

"I used it, so it's a word," the Slayer retorted. "Anyway. Let's give Mr Evil Teacher the notice that he's not allowed to risk his life against Glory and should stay out of the way until we're done with the skanky hell-goddess and can focus on him."

"I don't think we should tell him our plans," Jim said.

"Well, we won't - Willow's already working on the curse."

Jim nodded, though he didn't know if the witch would have any success. This was a troll curse, after all. And telling Strickler anything grated on his nerves.

"He'll probably assume we'll be working on that anyway," Claire said.

"Right." The Slayer turned to look at Jim. "We can still go for plan 'nab and imprison the creepazoid'."

Jim shook his head. "No." That was too dangerous for Mom. If Strickler was captured, he might kill himself out of spite. Or maim himself. And any spell that prevented that might have weird effects on Mom.

"Alright. Let's go!" The Slayer strode towards the small house.

Since he was wearing his armour, Jim checked once more if there was anyone else around, even though the odds were low at this time of the night, before following her with Claire.

At least, the Slayer had waited for them before ringing the doorbell. The lights went on quickly - far too quickly for Strickler to have been in bed, Jim realised before the door was opened, and he was staring at Strickler, who was dressed in his usual style. The typical style of a teacher you could trust so he could abuse said trust.

"We're looking for a creepy changeling. Is this the right address?" the Slayer asked, baring her teeth in a wide smile.

Strickler raised his eyebrows and looked at Jim. "A new acquaintance, Young Atlas? Might this be the blonde woman the police are looking for?"

Jim narrowed his eyes. Did Strickler have a changeling agent amongst the police, or was he trying to make Jim think he did?

"What? Do I look like a skanky hell-goddess?" the Slayer protested. "Are you blind?"

"This is the Slayer," Jim said. "Buffy, this is Strickler, a changeling who has replaced our principal."

Jim saw Strickler's eyes widen at the introduction and managed not to frown. He wasn't jealous.

"The Slayer? It seems you've been reaching out to rather... questionable allies."

"Says the changeling who called Angor Rot," Claire chimed in.

"Anyway," Jim said. "We're here to warn you."

Strickler didn't seem to be concerned. "Oh? A threat by the Slayer? I'm flattered. Although I fail to see how she could do anything to me without hurting your mother."

"She is right here," the Slayer said. "And if I wanted to, I'd turn you into a pretzel, troll form or not. But that would harm Jim's mom, so I'm not going to do it."

"No, we're not here to threaten you," Jim said. "We're here to warn you that the hell-goddess Glorificus is in Arcadia Oaks, trying to find the key to destroy the world so she can return to her home dimension."

"She's the woman the police are looking for," Claire added. "She has already killed several people."

"And she can kill a troll in seconds. Half a second for a changeling," the Slayer added. "So, unless you have a death wish, stay away from blonde women with bad perms and cheapo shoes."

Jim clenched his teeth and nodded. If only Strickler weren't tied to Mom, Jim would drive Daylight through the monster's head. Wreck that fake smile and smug attitude for good. Ensure the changeling wouldn't fool and hurt anyone else ever again.

"What an interesting claim. And utterly without proof, I assume?"

"Check the news. Sunnydale. Glory killed dozens of people," Jim spat.

"And ask yourself if you can afford to ignore our warning," the Slayer added. "Oh, we've also evacuated our families, so don't bother looking for them." She blinked. "And, no, this isn't some plot against you - we need to keep them safe from Glory."

"And we told Mom about you." Jim glared at Strickler.

"You did what?" For the first time since they had started talking, Strickler looked angry.

"We told her everything," Jim replied. "You won't be able to fool her anymore or use her against us."

And the changeling schooled his features again. "I see. Fortunately, I have other resources at my disposal."

"There's someone else in the house," the Slayer snapped. "I didn't hear them until now."

Jim gasped. Someone who could hide from the Slayer? "Angor Rot!"


Angor Rot? A tall but slim, almost lanky troll stepped into view. Buffy Summers clenched her teeth. Trolls didn't trigger her slaydar any more than humans did, but this thing… She could sense that it was wrong, somehow. Unnatural.

"The Slayer," the thing said, cocking its head sideways as it stared at her. "I've heard of you."

"I'm flattered," Buffy replied.

"I've never fought one of you, though."

"Obviously not, or you wouldn't be here." She bared her teeth at the monster. She should've brought her trollhammer - one good smash and the thing would be in pieces. Literally, as she understood.

The thing chuckled. "You overestimate yourself." It carried a long blade in one hand, Buffy saw.

That wouldn't save it. Buffy had fought demons with weapons before. That weird fencer-hood. The monster was tough, but she had her trusty blades. And she could improvise. Rip off an arm and beat it to death with it, for example.

She slowly started to smile. Strickler couldn't stop her. And once she was past him, the monster would be confined by the tight quarters inside, where her size was an advantage.

"Stop it!" Jim stepped in front of her. "We're not here to fight."

She almost swatted him aside before she realised it. What was she doing? Sure, the monster needed to die, but not now. They had bigger problems to deal with. Like Glory.

"You've met the Slayer?" Mr Evil Principal asked.

She didn't look at him, though - he didn't really matter. If anything happened, Jim and Claire could deal with him. Probably by portalling him to some lake nearby. No, Buffy didn't take her eyes off the evil troll.

But the monster took its eyes off her and looked at Jim! Buffy almost growled in return. No monster ignored her! Not for long.

"Trollhunter. And thief." It looked at Claire with a sneer.

"I earned this in battle. I didn't steal it!" Claire shot back. Good for her!

"Are you certain that this is the Slayer?" the evil teacher asked.

The monster scoffed. "Who else could it be? The description matches, and I can sense that she's not a human."

"I'm so a human!" Buffy protested. "I pass all the tests!" She was merely stronger, faster and tougher than a human.

Another scoff. But the monster was looking at her again. It wanted to fight - Buffy could sense it. And she'd oblige it, as Giles would say.

"We're not here to fight," Jim repeated himself. Right, fighting would endanger his mother. Then again, if the teacher was just knocked out, that wouldn't be too bad, would it? Giles got knocked out all the time, and it didn't do much to him.

"We're here to warn you about Glory," Claire added.

"And only because you're tied to Mom," Jim spat.

The evil teacher smiled. "Your concern is most touching."

"They can't hurt you, but we can hurt them," the monster said.

This time, Buffy growled. If it wanted a fight, she'd give it one!

"Whoa!"

"No." The teacher - the troll hiding behind a human form - shook his head. "If what they say is true, then they are currently fighting a hell-god. Let them face it - we can settle our own accounts afterwards."

Typical! They wanted her and her friends to save them so they could stab them in the back afterwards. "I think plan B would work," Buffy whispered. One less thing to worry about.

"No!" Jim shook his head. "We're not here to fight. We came to warn you, and we did it. Now we'll leave, and you can go into hiding while we save the world."

"Brave words and bold claims, Young Atlas. But will you be able to back them with deeds?"

"Yes." Jim nodded firmly.

"We shall see." The changeling smiled. "Now, I think this is a good occasion to use a classic: Get off my lawn."

Buffy snorted, but no one else did.

Jim kept staring at the changeling as he slowly nodded and didn't turn his back to them until the door had closed. Then they left.

Once they were across the street, Jim sighed. "That could've gone better."

"Yes," Buffy agreed. They could've killed Angor Rot and captured the changeling.

"It didn't come to a fight," Claire said, missing the point. "And Strickler is now aware of Glory. As planned."

"Let's just hope Gunmar doesn't try to make a deal with Glory," Jim said.

"He'd have to be a moron to do so," Buffy assured him. "And Glory is too stupid to fool anyone."

"We shouldn't underestimate a hell-goddess," Claire objected.

"You've seen her. She's as subtle as a plane crash and as bright as a brick." Buffy waved her hand. "She's all 'Give me the key, rar!' and none of the sneaky."

Jim and Claire didn't look like they believed her, even though they had met her a few times.


Shadow Dimension, January 15th, 2017

"Finally! I need my Internet connection!" Dawn complained as soon as James Lake Jr, Claire and the Slayer stepped back into the portal dimension - they really had to find a proper name for it.

"Dawn! It's the middle of the night! You should be sleeping, not surfing!"

"Surfing? Who uses that any more? You sound older than Mom! No wonder you want to become a teacher!"

"I don't!"

"You don't want to become a student advisor any more?"

"That was just one possible career I mentioned! And I don't sound old!"

"Of course you do!"

"She's worse than Mary," Toby told Jim and Claire while the two sisters argued. "Addicted to her phone. Well, her laptop."

"As long as she doesn't post pictures from here," Claire said.

Jim looked at her. She blinked. Toby cursed.

"Dawn! You aren't posting selfies to Instagram, are you?" Jim asked as they walked over to the two.

"Of course she isn't!" the Slayer replied at once. "Dawn's a brat but not stupid. Not so stupid, at least."

"Says Miss 'Willow, can you fix my phone?'," Dawn said in a bad imitation of the Slayer's voice.

"That's not true!"

"Well, you did ask me to fix your phone once," Willow cut in. The Slayer narrowed her eyes at her, and she quickly smiled. "And it was a totally reasonable request. Even if I can't fix literally broken phones."

The Slayer huffed and turned back to Dawn. "You weren't posting pictures, were you?"

"I was conducting a disinformation campaign!" Dawn retorted. "Pictures of me, with a fake background. If Glory actually does check Instagram, she'll be on her way to Hawaii and hopefully fall into a volcano."

"A volcano?"

"There are volcanoes on Hawaii. It's part of the ring of fire," Willow replied.

"Willow! Did you help her?"

"It sounded like a good idea. And it kept her busy."

"Hey!"

"That's true."

"Hey!"

Jim sighed. It looked like camping out in this space would be more taxing than he had thought.

"It's like school," Toby commented. "Just without P.E. and Señor Uhl."

"And without Strickler," Jim added.

"Are we going back to school, anyway?" Toby asked. "If we do, then I'll need an excuse for P.E. I still got stitches."

"I don't think we can go back," Jim replied. "We would endanger the whole school."

"But Glory might look for us there anyway," Claire pointed out.

Damn. She was right, as usual. "Then we'll have to keep an eye on it." Something else to do. They had so much on their plate… Jim looked around. Three tents had been put up already, and Mr Nuñez and Mr Giles were working on the fourth. And the mobile toilet had been placed apart from the camp.

"Xander wanted a hospital tent, but he was overruled," Toby told them. "Now it'll be one tent per household. Until we get caravans."

"Ah." Jim nodded. At least it wouldn't rain in here.

Claire scoffed. "Typical. I bet my parents insisted on that."

"Yes?" Toby looked a little confused.

"They think Jim and I are, ah… you know…" Claire blushed a little.

"They think the kids are sleeping together," the Slayer explained, startling Jim. When had she stopped bickering with her sister and walked over? Jim hadn't noticed her approaching. He really needed to pay more attention. And he needed some sleep.

Claire glared at her. "That's no one's business except for us," she spat.

"Yep." The Slayer nodded. "But parents don't get that. No sense of boundaries."

Something the Slayer also seemed to lack, in Jim's opinion. "So, what now?" he asked to change the subject.

"Now we get my Mom and the rest of our friends - and Spike, I guess - put up more tents, ask Willow for some silence spell so we won't hear her and Tara when we want to sleep, then work on breaking the curse on your mom and how to get better weapons to kill Glory."

Put like that, it sounded almost reasonable. And it was also impressive how the Slayer finished that without taking a breath in between.

"Oh, and we work on getting me a better phone, and then organise some caravans," the Slayer added. "I'm not a big fan of roughing it outdoors. That's more the First Slayer's thing."

"The First Slayer?" Toby asked.

"The spirit of the first Slayer," the Slayer replied. "We've met her in dreams."

"Ah." Jim nodded. That sounded like the Trollhunters in Hero's Forge.

"Tried to kill us all, but we worked things out. So to speak."

That didn't sound like the Trollhunters. Then again, some of the training in the Forge was a little dangerous, and Jim had wondered - privately - if that had been used to weed out the unworthy or something. He cleared his throat. "So, let's start?"

"Yes. I need my beauty sleep."

"You sure do!"

"Dawn!"

"What? I'm just agreeing with you!"

Jim sighed. This would be a long night. And a long camping trip.


The floating island looked pretty crowded now, in Buffy Summers's opinion. Lots of tents covered most flat spaces - other than the area around the toilet - and it was, especially for a Slayer, also very loud when people were waking up. Such as now.

Slipping into loose sweat pants and a matching crop top, she listened. Dawn was complaining to herself about some idiot on Instagram - at least Buffy hoped she wasn't bothering Mom, who needed her rest. Being 'released early' from the hospital, then having been driven to L.A., only to detour to Arcadia Oaks, hadn't been easy for Mom. And that with Spike driving, and Anya complaining, and Tara probably being all meek and quiet. No wonder Mom was still asleep after just a few hours here.

Xander was also still sleeping - she knew the sound of his snoring by heart from long nights researching stuff in the library. Anya was sleeping as well - she wasn't complaining about the amenities any more, so she had to be asleep. Willow and Tara were…

She coughed and tried to ignore what they were doing according to the sounds they made. "Time to train!" she announced to herself and walked to one of the flat spaces not occupied by a tent. And one coincidentally located on the opposite end of the island from Willow and Tara's tent. After all, it was already morning on Earth. And not early morning any more.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, focusing. She was the Slayer. The bogeyman of the undead and other demons. She was Buffy Summers. She opened her eyes and started moving with a kata. Karate to begin. After a few minutes, she segued into Taekwondo, then focused on various Kung Fu styles until she'd worked up a sweat. Finally, Tai Chi to cool down.

"No weapon practise?" Giles asked as he joined her at the end.

She shook her head, then retied her ponytail. "No. The hammer's not very useful against Glory, and I don't feel like breaking Mr Pointy or my favourite sword against her."

"Ah. Sensible, I suppose. Though once we have a weapon capable of hurting the hell-god, you might want to focus on it." Giles nodded.

She liked how he spoke as if finding a divine weapon was a done deal. He might have doubts himself - he probably had; he was such a worrywart at times - but he didn't let them show. "Yes. But first, we need to find one," she said. "Well, even before that, we need to get some caravans. We can't keep living in tents."

"It's been one night so far," he replied.

"I need a shower." She made a point of tugging on her crop top and sniffing her armpits and grinned when she saw him blush and cough as a result.

"Really, I don't believe that…"

"You want me to take a camp shower?" She pointed at the black bags full of water stacked in a corner. "Sure, as long as you're going to hold up a towel to protect my modesty?"

That had him stammering in return. And polishing his glasses. She chuckled, and he frowned. "Really. Was that necessary?"

"Yes, it was," she replied, putting her slippers back on. She rocked the martial arts look. "I needed the laugh."

After a moment, he smiled his wry smile and nodded. "I suppose you did. We all might, actually." He glanced back at the small tent city. Tent village?

"Too many wounded, too many scared people, too little privacy," she agreed. "We really need those caravans, I think." It was weird that Toby's gran was holding up the best amongst all old people. Except for Giles, of course. Buffy wondered what life the old woman had led to take trolls and demons in stride.

"We do, but acquiring them might pose a slight challenge," Giles told her. "By now, the staff of the supermarket you plundered will have noticed the break-in and called the police."

"So?"

"They might grow suspicious, what with us vanishing from Arcadia Oaks," Giles explained.

"We've got cover stories for the families."

"Yet not for us - and we're persons of interest, after Glorificus's attack on the police station."

She frowned but had to admit he had a point. "And because we're from Sunnydale."

"Yes."

"Well, that means we'll have to borrow the caravans without asking, right?" She beamed at him.

"Buffy! You can't just steal caravans!"

"We can. I guess you mean we shouldn't."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Indeed. This affair will be settled, and we'll have to deal with the consequences of our actions afterwards. Necessity will only excuse so much."

"So, no liberating shoes and designer clothes, got it!" She laughed at his expression. "You need to loosen up, Giles!"

"I believe someone needs to stay responsible." He sighed. "You might not have made the best impression on the residents of Arcadia Oaks."

"Me? I so made a good impression!" she protested.

"Not everyone knows you well enough to know what you are like behind the, ah, facade you like to project."

"Oh." He might have a point again. People in Sunnydale - those who mattered - were used to joking in the face of an apocalypse. And banter while fighting. Or planning. Or any time.

But they were in Arcadia Oaks.

He nodded. "I shall strive to convince our new allies that we know what we are doing."

She nodded, smiling again. "You do that! I'll go check up on Mom."

"And I shall see if the promised contact from the US government has arrived in Arcadia Oaks."

"OK!"


"And see, this is how you adjust the flame," James Lake Jr explained.

"Ah!" Mrs Domzalski beamed at him. "The last time I was cooking outdoors, we used a fire, not a gas cooker."

"Oh?" Jim cocked his head sideways then reconsidered - he was cutting tomatoes on a board balanced on a folding table, not a kitchen counter, so he had to pay more attention than usual.

"Yes, those were different times." Toby's nana smiled. "I don't miss them. Not often, at least." Before Jim could decide whether or not he should ask for more details, she went on: "It's so nice to find out you like cooking; few young people these days do."

"Well, I had to learn cooking," Jim replied. "Mom's not… She's working hard at the hospital, and she's not the best cook in the morning." A white lie.

"That's very considerate of you. I can also see that you're good at it."

"I do what I can." Jim inclined his head and focused on finishing his task. "I'm not used to cooking for so many people, though."

"Oh, it's easy if you take the longer cooking times into account - or use several pans at once."

"Ah." That was logical, of course. He checked his watch - they should be done soon. They weren't doing much - just a Polish breakfast, as Mrs Domzalski called it. Sandwiches and scrambled eggs. And some hash browns, for those who liked them. And some sausages. Nothing really fancy. But it should feed the group.

"Jim? Ah, hello Ms Domzalski."

"Mom." Jim tensed, then forced himself to smile. "How are you doing?"

"I'm not used to sleeping on the ground," Mom replied.

"We'll get some cots. Or portable beds," Jim told her. "Perhaps a caravan." The Slayer had mentioned them a few times.

"It's fine, Jim." Mom shrugged. "It's not… I'm still adjusting."

"But I can help you with that," Jim assured her. This was his fault, after all. The least he could do was to ensure Mom was comfortable.

"You don't have to. This isn't your fault."

But it was.

"This takes me back so many years," Mrs Domzalski said, breaking the sudden silence. She wasn't looking at them, but at the, well, what passed for the horizon in this dimension. "Though there are no trees to hide between."

Somehow, Jim didn't think she was talking about playing hide and seek. Not with her tone. He cleared his throat. "So, just sit down; we're almost done," he told Mom.

A nice breakfast would be great.

"Oh! This smells yummy!"

And here came the Slayer. Jim looked up and saw her peer at the food. "We're almost done. Just sit down," he repeated himself.

"Ah, then I'll have to hurry with the washing up," she replied. "I just finished morning training."

So that was why she was dressed in a skimpy top and loose thin sweatpants.

"Morning training?" Mom asked.

"Martial arts." The Slayer smiled widely. "Have to keep in shape. Especially when I can't go hunt vampires at night."

"That's right," Mrs Domzalski said as if it made perfect sense.

"Are you doing such training as well?" Mom asked. "Wait, that's silly; of course you have to train if you are going to fight monsters."

"We usually train in the Heros' Forge," Jim explained. "It's, ah, better suited for Trollhunter training."

"Oh, yes!" The Slayer nodded emphatically. "I'm so jealous - we just train in a boring training hall. We don't have moving floors and spinning saws and all those nifty weapons!"

"Spinning saws?" Mom asked, staring at him.

"I need to check the eggs," Jim deflected. He glared at the Slayer, but she wasn't looking at him - she was staring at the food again.

Great.


"Who wants more scrambled eggs? Or a sandwich?"

"Me, Nana!"

"Here you go, Toby-Pie!"

"Me too!"

"Here you go, Miss Summers."

"Call me Buffy!"

"Don't eat like a pig."

"Dawn!"

"What? You're slobbering!"

"I'm not! And I'm hungry because I was exercising!"

"Don't yell! You're gonna wake up Mom!"

"Who's yelling?"

"Children…"

James Lake Jr tried to tune out the squabbling. "So, how do you like the food?" He asked Claire. "It's really simple, but we were a little limited with the camping cookers," he explained.

"You helped cooking this?" Mrs Nuñez asked.

Jim suppressed a frown - she made it sound as if he had just assisted Mrs Domzalski. But technically, he had helped cooking, just as Toby's nana had. And trying to explain that he had been an equal partner, so to speak, would make him sound stupid. So he nodded.

"Ah."

"Jim's a great cook," Claire defended him.

"Ah."

Jim clenched his teeth. 'No, really' would make him sound desperate. And he wasn't. Just a little stressed.

They really needed caravans. And he needed some time alone with Claire.


Mom was still sleeping. She looked so vulnerable, in her bed - which was the best folding bed they had managed to get - that Buffy Summers had to clench her teeth to refrain from lashing out. At anything or anyone. Cancer. The kind of enemy she couldn't beat up and slay.

"The doctor said she was alright. The surgery was a success," Dawn said.

"I know," Buffy replied. She'd been there, after all. The surgeon had said so. As had Ben the intern. But hearing and believing were two different things, what with Mom here, asleep, and… "She looks so thin."

"Well, that's one good thing, isn't it?"

Buffy's head snapped around to stare at Dawn. Was she…? Oh. She was smiling but had tears in her eyes. So she was supposed to be joking. Buffy forced herself to chuckle. Then, as Dawn chuckled herself, or tried to, she reached out and hugged her sister.

The key, a small voice whispered in the back of her mind as she held Dawn. The key Glory wanted to destroy the world. The key whose destruction would save the world.

She pushed the voice away. Probably the First Slayer. Buffy would never hurt her sister. No matter what.

They stayed like that for a while, without saying anything.

"Buffy? Dawn?"

Buffy jerked, releasing Dawn and turning to face Mom. "Mom?"

"Mom!" Dawn was less restrained and went to hug her.

"What's wrong?" Mom asked. "Did something happen?"

"No, no, it's just…" Buffy trailed off.

"You were so exhausted, you slept through breakfast!" Dawn blurted out.

"Oh." Mom blinked. "Well, it got really late last night." She smiled. "I'm not a teenager any more; I need my sleep."

Buffy nodded. Mom was old. And vulnerable. "I'll get you some leftovers. You'll like it - it was cooked by Mrs Domzalski and Jim."

"If you like Polish breakfast."

"It's normal breakfast, just with sandwiches. Mostly," Buffy explained.

Mom laughed at that. "Let me get up and get dressed, first," she told them.

"Of course! Do you need help?" Buffy asked.

"I'll manage."

She sounded like Dawn when she needed help and didn't want to ask. But she was Mom. Not a bratty little sister who didn't know better, so Buffy left the tent. And dragged Dawn with her.

Mom was still recovering. And Buffy knew the whole evacuation hadn't helped - the doctors had said so, as did the papers Mom had to sign to get released. But she was safe now. As safe as Buffy could make her. As safe as Dawn.


"Slayer."

"Spike." Standing at the edge of the island, staring at the shifting world out there, Buffy Summers didn't turn. She didn't have to - she had heard Spike walk towards her. She knew his gait by now. When he didn't want to be sneaky, at least.

"You know, I could get used to this," he went on. "No sun here. Just some magic light and plenty of shadows. Give me some blood bags and a telly with BBC, and I'm set for life."

"You'd grow bored in a week," she told him.

"Not if I can spar with you every day," he replied.

Ah. That was why he was here. She grinned and turned to face him. "Don't you want to spar with the Trollhunters?"

He scoffed. "With the brats? The fat one is too weak and the bird cheats with her portals. The tall one might do, but I don't trust the kid to keep his weapons in check."

Buffy nodded. They hadn't tested what the sword did to vampires, but since it was called Daylight… And Toby might be fat, but he moved quickly - and he had a burning war hammer. Not that Spike would admit to being scared of getting set on fire.

"The brat's a little too dangerous for a friendly spar," Spike said.

"He's a good kid." But a kid.

"Yes, but not experienced enough to hold back if things ramp up a bit," Spike said. "Like a freshly trained Slayer."

"He's got experience," Buffy objected.

Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "Not the kind that makes sparring fun."

She narrowed her eyes a little. What did he mean with that? They were talking about sparring. Fighting. And yet… there was a hint of something else. If only she had more than most of three semesters of psychology.

Not that she wanted to analyse Spike, of course. The vampire was a monster only held in check by the chip in his head. A monster that was very good at passing for a person. Too good. Dawn certainly didn't see him as a vampire, and Buffy didn't think Willow did, either. Not like Xander and Giles. She didn't know what Anya and Tara thought of him.

He had killed two Slayers. Tried to kill Buffy more than once. Killed countless people. He was a monster.

"So, whatcha say? Fancy a few rounds? I don't want to get rusty, staying here. If anything happens, I need to be on top of my game."

She snorted. That was a transparent attempt to manipulate her. But he wasn't wrong. If anything happened - and Buffy knew something would happen - Spike was the last line of defence here. "Alright," she said, nodding towards the flat space nearby, which had served as her training ground this morning.

He flashed her a smile and waved towards it. "After you."

Turning her back to a vampire felt wrong. Unless it was to bait them into attacking her. But this was Spike. If he wanted to kill her, if the chip ever stopped working, he wouldn't ambush her. He'd challenge her.

She also knew that he wasn't letting her go first because of some remnant manners from his life as a gentleman in Victorian London, but she ignored that and focused on the upcoming sparring match. A little violence would be good to relax before they had to work on getting caravans and meeting the Fed.