~oOo~
Chapter Four
Tom grimaced as he stood in the doorway and watched Buffy heave. It seemed like an awful lot of liquid came out her and he wondered just how much fountain water she'd swallowed.
When he felt a gentle touch on this shirt sleeve, he glanced down to see Sophie and Vin right there with him, both looking extremely concerned. Nodding his understanding at their unspoken meaning, he backed away and let them take over. Frowning, he went and sat on the sofa that was his bed.
After what seemed like forever, the retching finally stopped—and a few minutes later the three women emerged from the restroom. Buffy looked pale, but somewhat better now that she'd gotten that out of her system.
"Tom, would you be a dear and go down to the kitchen and fetch Buffy a glass of water, please," Sophie said.
"And then bring it down to the basement, I think," Vin added, looking at her sister.
Sophie nodded at her sister. "I'll take her down there and get her cleaned up, while you find her something else to wear." She looked then at Tom and waited for a response.
"Of course," he said, wishing he could wash and change too—nice as these pajamas were, he felt awkward in them. Even though it was still night, he just wanted to get dressed again; be in his own clothing.
When Tom started for the door, they followed him. Vin went up the stairs and Sophie was helping Buffy down the stairs. He resisted the urge to look back at them, but walked slowly, so as to keep pace just in front of them. When he got to the kitchen doorway, he did watch the two blondes turn and continue down to the basement level.
"Careful Buffy," Sophie instructed. "These steps aren't in the best condition. It's a very old house."
Buffy chuckled. "Really, Sophie. I'm all right. I mean, I'll admit to being a bit surprised, but...it's no big. Really." She shrugged.
Sophie snorted. "So surprised that it made you sick?" She shook her head. "No, that was more like utterly shaken...even traumatized...by something we said. Which, by the way, we need to know the details, so we can help you."
By this time they'd reached the lower level.
"Here we are," Sophie said as she opened the door that was immediately to their left and led Buffy into a rather large bathroom. "Let's get you freshened up." She pulled open a cupboard and pulled out towels, soap, shampoo, a hair brush—even a toothbrush. "These should get you started. Do you need any help?"
Buffy shook her head. "Nope," she said, popping the p. "Been showering on my own for a good eight years now."
Sophie eyed her. "All right. If you're sure."
"I think I can handle it," said Buffy, smiling now.
Sophie looked worried, but she nodded. Some color had returned to the girl's cheeks. "There's a dressing gown in that closet there, if you'd like to use it."
Buffy glanced in the direction of the closet door, wondering what a dressing gown was, then back at Sophie. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Buffy."
Buffy bit her lip. She was feeling overwhelmed. "Who are you people?"
Sophie grinned. "I'm the middle Fairweather sister," she said. "Vin's the oldest, but don't tell her I told you."
"I heard that!" came Vin's irritated voice from the doorway to the other room—causing Sophie to sniffle a giggle.
"Oh. Oops. You weren't supposed to hear that, Vin."
Vin rolled her eyes. "It's not the first time you thought that comment was humorous," she snapped. "Just so you know, it's not." Then she looked at Buffy. "I have another nightgown for you and some clothing for tomorrow."
"Thank you," Buffy said quietly.
"And while you shower, we'll prepare the bedroom for you," Sophie added. "No one's used it since our other sister lived here. It's been quite a while and it's become a storage room since she moved out."
Buffy looked beyond the sisters. She could see a bed, but it was covered with boxes and papers and piles of clothes—and who knew what else. She didn't really know what to say and so she just nodded. How many thank yous could one give in the space of an hour?
Sophie smiled at her, seemingly understanding, and started for the door—just as Tom reached the bottom of the stairs.
"I have Buffy's glass of water," he announced, hanging back slightly. He was a little worried that if he took another step forward that he'd walk in on Buffy in another state of undress.
Sophie poked her head out of the bathroom and grinned. "She's still decent, Tom. You can take in her water."
Tom huffed. He wished Sophie would just take the glass, so he could leave. Instead, she motioned him in. "Here's your water, Buffy," he said, holding out the glass—shivering just a bit when she smiled at him, her eyes shining like the sun. He'd never felt so warmed by someone looking at him before.
And he'd never felt more annoyed either! This girl was a stranger!
"Thank you, Tom," Buffy said, taking the glass and drinking. She downed the entire thing, then held out the glass.
He took it from her, but just stood there staring at the empty glass. She must have been thirsty. "Did you want some more?" he asked.
Buffy shook her head. "All's good."
"Well then, let's allow Buffy to clean up," Sophie said as she closed the bathroom door, then gave Tom a gentle push toward the door to the bedroom and then closed that door too, leaving Buffy alone inside the bathroom.
"Tom, I know it's late, but...would you mind helping us ready this room?" Vin asked.
Without a word, he started clearing off the bed, moving boxes to the floor and piling other things neatly on top of them—and wishing he could use magic to do the job. Such mundane chores Muggles had, he thought as he worked. Someday he'd be able to do anything with magic.
When they'd finished, Sophie grinned. "That was easy. Just like magic."
Tom blanched at her wording. He was facing away from them, but he could tell they were watching him. He could feel it. Slowly, he turned around and tried to look normal, as if Sophie had not said anything unusual.
"Is there anything else I can do?" he asked, faking a yawn. "I'm rather tired." And he was tired, but he doubted he's get anymore sleep. He just wanted to get away from them and think.
The sisters looked at each other. "Oh. No, not tonight, I suppose," Sophie said. "We'll figure out tomorrow...well, tomorrow.
Vin shrugged. "You should definitely go to bed. Breakfast is around seven, if you're feeling up to it. We'll understand if you want to sleep in."
Tom nodded—then backed out of the room.
"Goodnight, Tom," Sophie called out.
~oOo~
"There is absolutely something going on with that boy," Vin said once they were sure he'd gone.
"Well, you said he's a warlock."
"Wizard," Vin corrected.
"Yes. Well. Sooo..." Sophie shrugged. "I'm sure my magic comment was unsettling."
Vin frowned. "Were you trying to provoke him?"
"More like get a reaction. He's so...awkward."
"He's a teenage boy," Vin said, as if that explained everything. "What do you expect?"
"And an orphan," Sophie added. "I've heard awful things about orphanages."
Vin hummed. "I have as well. No child should have to live in them."
"Maybe we could keep him," Sophie suggested.
Vin laughed. "He's not a puppy, Sophie. We can't keep him. We don't even know what we're going to do with Buffy, let along him. If we can't send her home, then...no one must find out how we found her. How Tom found her."
Sophie frowned. "But...where did she come from?"
"We'll drag it out of her tomorrow," Vin assumed her sister. "We've told her where she is and she's going to tell us about where she's from. And Tom's going back tomorrow. We can't keep him."
Sophie pouted.
"Come on, Sophie. You've never wanted children before," Vin said. "That's one of the reasons why neither of us is attached to a man. No possibility of children. We like being able to come and go as we please and having no responsibilities. Everything would change if they stayed."
Sophie nodded. "I know, but..."
"No buts," she said as they started making up the bed.
In no time at all, the bed was made and door opened, revealing a squeaky clean Buffy Summers.
"Better?" Vin queried.
Buffy nodded. "Much. Thank you," she said, hugging herself, enjoying the fluffy bathrobe.
"All right. This will be your room for as long as you need it," Vin said, causing her sister to stare at her. At Sophie's look, the dark-haired woman shrugged. It wasn't like they could kick her out—and they certainly weren't sending her off to that orphanage, if they could help it.
"We told Tom that breakfast would be around seven...give or take a few minutes," Sophie informed Buffy. "In the kitchen, which is one floor up."
"I'll be hungry."
~oOo~
The next morning came faster than anyone thought possible.
"I'm up, mom," Buffy called out as she sat up in bed. Then she realized she wasn't in her own bed and frowned.
"Right. 1942," she grumbled, throwing back her bedding and getting up.
Buffy used the bathroom and got dressed—in the most drab 1940s outfit ever—then headed upstairs to the kitchen.
As she arrived on the landing, Tom was approaching as well. He looked her up and down and smirked. "Nice."
"Not funny. Don't laugh. I look like my grandmother!" she complained.
Tom snorted. "Your grandmother had style then. It's very respectable," he said. "Much better than what you had on last night."
"What sort of boy are you anyway?" Buffy asked, frowning in confusion. "Boys like scantily clad girls."
"Not all boys," he grumbled.
"Oh. Are you gay?" she asked.
Tom frowned. "Am I what now?"
"Gay," she whispered. "It's all right if you are. Where I'm from, it's getting trendy."
Tom shook his head. "Buffy, I really don't know what you mean."
Buffy blinked. Of course he didn't know what she meant! This was 1942! "Um. I mean...well, you said not all boys like to...ahh...look at girls, so...I was thinking that maybe you...that maybe instead you prefer boys," she said—saying the last word so quietly that Tom had to strain to even hear her.
Gasping, his eyes flew open. "Are you saying you think I'm..."
When his voice trailed off, Buffy shrugged.
"Well, I'm not!" he hissed. "And besides...it's...that's illegal."
Buffy frowned. She'd forgotten about that part. "I wouldn't have told anyone," she said. "But...okay, so you're not. Don't get all bent out of shape now." With that, she turned and marched into the kitchen, Tom frowning at her back in confusion.
"Good morning, you two," Vin said. She was sitting at the table reading the newspaper while Sophie stood at the stove flipping pancakes. "Everyone all right after the night's excitement?"
Both Buffy and Tom nodded.
"I slept well, thank you," Tom responded.
"Me too!" Buffy quipped, "But let me just tell you, this outfit...not attractive or comfortable."
Vin looked up from her paper and Sophie chuckled.
"Is this tweed?" Buffy asked with disgust. "God, I look like a young, female Giles!"
Sophie's laughter immediate halted.
"I thought you said you resembled your grandmother in that lovely ensemble," Tom said as he sat down at the table.
Buffy glared at him, then sat down too.
Folding and setting aside her newspaper, Vin narrowed her eyes at Buffy. "This older male British friend of yours...his name is Giles?"
Buffy nodded. "Yes, he's my watch...er...the librarian at my school. He watches the books."
Vin sighed and rubbed her face. "Buffy. Are you a Slayer?"
Buffy's eyes turned into saucers. "Um." She thought about lying or just acting confused, but then decided not to. "Ah-huh," she said instead—then looked down.
Sophie turned off the stove and rushed to the table and dropped into a chair. "You're a Slayer?"
Buffy looked up and nodded. "Yep. Surprise!"
Sophie bit her lip and looked at her sister. "We need to contact Edna."
Vin hummed. "Perhaps. But first, I want to know what's going on," she said. "And you know that once we talk to Edna, the Council will be aware. I'm not sure we want that."
Sophie grimaced. "Oh. Right."
They were all silent—until Tom spoke.
"What are we discussing here?" he asked. "What is the Council? And what is...a Slayer?"
Buffy's head snapped up. "The Slayer," she said.
Tom shook his head.
"She who hangs out a lot in cemeteries?" she tried again.
Tom just stares at her blankly.
"Oh my God, I wish Giles was here. He loves this part. 'Into every generation, there is a chosen one. One girl in all the world. She alone will wield the strength and skill to stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness; To stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their numbers. She is the Slayer.' "
Tom frowned.
Vin was frowning too, but it was Sophie who spoke next. "Sorry to interrupt, but...since we're delving into Buffy's background, maybe we should all be forthcoming with the information, hmm?"
Buffy cocked her head. "What do you mean? None of you are vampires."
Sophie shook her head. "No, we're not. But we are witches," she said, indicating herself and her sister.
Tom frowned. "You are not!" he hissed, jumping to his feet and backing away.
Sophie rolled her eyes. "Calm yourself, Tom. We're not wand-waving witches, like some people we know."
He blinked. Everything that was good in his life revolved around being a wizard. Without his magic, he had nothing—and them having knowledge of his kind, jeopardized his wellbeing and his future.
"I need to leave!" he said as he rushed from the room. He needed to gather his belongings and get to the orphanage—even though he hated Wools.
"Tom!" Sophie called out as she stood up.
"Let him go, Soph," Vin interrupted. "He'll be back."
Buffy frowned. "Can someone tell me what's going on? Why is Tom so upset?"
"His world is private," Vin said. "If you're not one of his kind, then...you're not allowed to know about their existence. They have statutes...rules...that need to be adhered to."
"I don't understand. What is his kind?" Buffy asked.
"He's like us, but different."
"Oh gee!" Buffy snapped. "Can you vague that up for me?"
The sisters said nothing—causing Buffy to huff.
"Excuse me, I have a maybe friend to go check on!" she snapped, heading out of the kitchen.
~oOo~
Tom was just coming down the stairs with a small bag thrown over his shoulder when Buffy reached the landing.
"Tom. Please don't go. I'm not sure what's happening here, but... please," she begged. "I'm confused and...scared," she admitted, "and you and Sophie and Vin are the only three people I know here."
"I need to go," he said flatly. "I don't live here and I was going to have to go back today anyway."
Buffy frowned. "Where is home for you, Tom?"
He looked away.
"Please tell me."
"For nine months out of the year, I go off to a specialized boarding school in Scotland," he said.
"Sounds...neat," she said. "And for the rest of the year?"
Tom squared his shoulders and stood up as tall as he could. "For the three summer months, I live at Wools. It's...an orphanage. I have no parents," he admitted—and Buffy could see how much the admission cost him.
"It doesn't matter Tom," she said. "Apparently I don't either...not anymore."
He looked at her. "Where are you from Buffy?" he asked.
"Sunnydale California," she responded automatically.
"So you've said, but..." he prompted, looking down at Buffy, knowing there was more.
"The year is not 1942 where I come from," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "And I am so confused. I don't belong here...in this time."
Tom wanted to storm out of the house and not look back, but...he was confused too. And despite everything he thought he was, he felt sorry for this poor girl. Watching the tears trickle down her cheeks, he pulled her into his arms. He wasn't sure whether he was comforting her or himself. The physical contact felt odd, but it was also new and interesting.
~oOo~
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