Just Human, Chapter 15: MOTHERS, DAUGHTERS, AND THE WAY OF LIFE
Cordelia Chase hated being right. Okay, so most of the time she loved being
right. It always gave you an advantage to be right. And she'd been right
very often. She'd known from the beginning that Xander Harris was a loser,
and that Willow Rosenberg was weird. And life had proven her right. Xander
had married a vengeance demon, had five kids and never - at least not for a long
time - set foot outside of Sunnydale, while Willow was married to a woman.
This wasn't really weird these days, but thinking back on little Willow who
had hardly gotten a word out because she was so painfully shy, the fact that
she'd become a bisexual was high weird potential.
Cordelia had also always known that Buffy Summers was trouble. Big trouble.
The kind of trouble with a big letter T. And again, she'd been right. Only
this time she didn't like it. Because it meant that her best friend, the
person who came, as close to being a big brother to her as possible, was
hurt.
Because she hadn't been able to reach Angel by his cell phone, she had
called Willow and the witch had told her that Angel had left town.
After talking to Willow she had tried to get a hold of Angel again, but his
cell was left off. That was yesterday, but Cordelia still hadn't any luck in
finding him, he hadn't tried to contact her and she still had the keys to
the apartment she had chosen for him in L.A.
To say she was extremely worried by now was an understatement. Of course she
would never have admitted it. "I'm okay," she said stubbornly, gritting her
teeth. Wesley had asked her for the umpteenth time if everything was all
right with her. Obviously she'd lost her skill in keeping up appearances
somewhere during her marriage. Or Wesley had become so good at reading her
that he could see right through her act. Neither possibility was too
appealing at the moment.
"No, you aren't," he replied and sighed. "I know you're worried about Angel.
But he's a grown man. He can look out for himself."
"You don't know what you're talking about," his wife turned away from the
counter and cup in hand came back to the table. "This is about Buffy. That
means it's serious. Beyond serious, actually. Angel never could think
straight when it came to Buffy. You weren't there, you never saw the way he
brooded for a week straight after her first visit in L.A."
"I've seen enough," Wesley said gently, not quite sure if he should be glad
that she cared so much or worry because she got worked up that way. "You
weren't there when Faith came to town. I saw the look on his face. And
remember, I was the one who found him in a drunken stupor almost bursting
into flames. But that was years ago. A lot has changed since then, don't you
think?"
"No. Not where Buffy is concerned. God, I wish," she shook her head,
reminding herself of a wish she'd once made, that Buffy never came to
Sunnydale. But unlike she'd thought the world hadn't been better without the
tiny blond. She combed her hair with one hand and put the cup on the table,
"No, I don't wish she hadn't come into our lives, but why did Angel have to
fall for her? Couldn't he have fallen for some nice girl like... like Fred?"
Her husband stifled a chuckle, "Fred?" he asked, raising a brow. "Cordelia,
Fred wasn't really of this world. She did come around but she was still a
little strange when we managed to get her back where she belonged. Then
there was Kate who - so you told me was crushing on Angel for a while. Kate
is a nice person. But Kate and Angel? And then there was Darla. So given
the choice I'd take Buffy out of all of them."
She frowned slightly at him, and then smiled a bit sheepishly, "If you put
it that way. Still, I think he would've, if not been better, at least his
life would be easier without her."
"You think?" Wesley asked, standing up and slipping his arms around her
waist. "I'm not sure." He grinned at kissed her nose, "Men like challenges.
Just take me. What other reason would I have to hook up with you?"
Slightly pulling away, Cordelia scrunched her nose in indignation. "Don't
even dare to compare me to Buffy Summers. We're not even remotely alike."
"No, not at all," he replied, and managed to keep a straight face. "Cordy,
darling, stop worrying about Buffy and Angel. He's over 250 years old and
should know how to manage his relationships, and as far as Buffy, she isn't
a teenager anymore. She's grown up as well, has three children. I don't
think they need our help. That's not to say they won't get it if they come
and ask for it. I would never close my door to either of them, but they have
to ask for a change."
"But-"
"No buts," he said firmly. "I'm sure Angel is alright. Maybe he was just
late yesterday and didn't want to disturb at the late hour because of the
children. He has a credit card and knows how to rent a room for a night. And
don't start with his cell phone. Maybe he just needed to think-"
"Brood," she threw in, pouting at him.
He smiled, kissed her nose again, "Okay, brood. I know you don't like it,
but over the years I've come to understand that Angel needs it from time to
time. It's his way of dealing with things. Do you remember when Darla came
back to L.A. insisting that the child she was carrying was his? He went into
a several daylong brooding-session. Afterwards he had all worked out and
offered her to take care of the baby, but made it perfectly clear that not
for one moment he was buying the idea he could be the father. That it didn't
work out in the end wasn't his fault."
"No," she admitted on a sigh. "Certainly not." The affair with Darla's child
wasn't something she wanted to remember. Although it had in the end led to
the downfall of Wolfram & Hart, it had been a terrible thing for Angel.
"But what's more important is that he made it through it. Granted, he'll
carry scars for the rest of his now blessedly mortal life, but we all carry
scars. In Angel's case they just made him stronger, more determined to get
things done. I trust him, Cordelia. He knows exactly what he does. Much better
than we do. And I'm sure he will-" call you soon, he wanted to say when the
doorbell rang.
*****
Joyce stopped dead in her tracks when she entered the kitchen after school.
"Hi, honey," Buffy greeted her.
Of all people Joyce had expected to see sitting in Willow's kitchen, her
mother was number 200 on the list. Hadn't she made it perfectly clear that
she didn't want Buffy near? She wasn't as angry anymore as she'd been
yesterday, but that didn't mean she was all happy about seeing her.
Without even sparing her mother a glance, she walked over to the cupboard,
took out a glass, went to the fridge and filled it with milk, all the time
ignoring Buffy's presence, although her jerky movements betrayed the truth.
Joyce was tense as a bow and had no idea how to react to her mother sitting
casually at the table. "Where are Willow and Tara?" she asked instead.
"At work," her mother replied.
Joyce raised a brow, and sipping at her glass, she asked, "And who let you
in?"
"Willow gave me her key," Buffy said with a smile, lifting the object she
was still holding in her hand. "I told her we had to talk about some things
and she thought it was a good idea."
"Oh, really?" the girl's voice sounded sarcastic. "Newsflash, mom, I don't
want to talk to you. So you can just leave. I'll give the key back to
Willow."
"No need," her mother's smile didn't waver, "because I'm staying, and I'm
going to talk to you, and afterwards I can give the key back myself."
"I can't speak for you, but I'm certainly not going to talk-"
"Shut up," Buffy interrupted her daughter, her voice never rising.
Joyce's eyes widened and she stared at the woman in front of her. Was that
really her mother? After her father had died, Buffy had, if she wasn't
drunk, never spoken a harsh word to her. Her voice was still pleasant now,
but the look in her eyes told her that she was absolutely serious about
this.
"Just sit down," the ex-slayer ordered. "You don't have to talk. Just
listen. Sit," she said again and nodded pointedly at the chair opposite to
hers.
Her daughter glared at her, but finally sat down, crossed her arms in front
of her chest and with a stubborn expression stared at her mother.
"See, that wasn't really hard, was it?" Buffy said, her smile warming. "I
know you're angry, and I also admit you have a right to be. I neglected you
for the last six months, and there is absolutely no excuse for it. But maybe
I can try to explain, what caused it? And why you found me with Angel." She
looked at her daughter for a moment, and when she got no reaction, just the
same stubborn stare, she stifled a sigh and went on.
"Angel and I met when I was just sixteen, younger than you are today. I was
a slayer and he was a vampire with a soul. We did something nobody expected,
we fell in love," she laughed slightly, "Just think about it, mortal enemies
falling in love." She shook her head, laughed again. "To say the world
around us was shocked is clearly an understatement. I know, Willow already
told you something about it, but I think you should hear my version as
well."
Buffy got up and poured herself a glass of orange juice. Putting the juice
back into the fridge, she turned to her daughter again, "On my seventeenth
birthday I slept with him." She saw Joyce's eyes widen in surprise, the
first sign that the girl was really listening, and nodded. "I suppose Willow
left that out, huh? But you're a big girl. I think you can deal with it.
Anyways. As a result Angel lost his soul. The reason was, there was a clause
in his curse. It said that if he was ever to achieve true happiness, he
would lose his soul."
Reclaiming her chair, the ex-slayer sighed, "The time after that was
difficult. I had lost my virginity to him. I loved him more than I could say
and now a demon was wearing the face of my lover. It was one of the most
difficult times in my life." She smiled slightly, trying to remember what
Willow had told her about her talk with Joyce. "When Angel returned from
Hell, we were both so scared. Too scared to even touch. Scared that one of
us would lose control and make his soul snap again. Finally he was the more
adult of us two and left. It broke his heart and mine."
"He... he just left you?" Joyce asked.
Buffy gave her a smile, "Yeah, he did. He broke off with me in a sewer
tunnel."
"That's gross," her daughter commented with a grimace.
The ex-slayer chuckled, "Well, I didn't even notice at that time. I couldn't
believe he was leaving me. He stayed for a little while because we were
fighting a strong demon and..." she shrugged. "I wouldn't have made it
without him. Or without Willow, Xander and Giles for that matter."
"What about... Dad?" Joyce asked tentatively, finally getting her hero into
the story. She knew that her father had once been a demon-hunter and she'd
always admired him.
"He wasn't in the picture then," her mother answered. "I met him several
months later. And he was wonderful. Exactly what I needed, exactly the way
you remember him. Gentle, loving, a friend. But..." She took a deep breath,
knowing that now was the time for her biggest revelation, hoping that her
daughter would understand, "It wasn't the same. With Angel it was that
once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. But we both knew there was no chance. So he
left and I moved on. With your father. And I couldn't have had a better,
more loving husband and you had the most wonderful father."
Joyce felt tears welling up in her eyes and gulped, "You... you didn't love
Dad?" she asked, her voice weak, defeated.
"NO!" her mother replied more sharply than she'd intended. "I did love your
father. There are different kinds of love, baby. I love you, and Ben, and
Marlie. Still it isn't the same way I love Willow for example. And I do love
her. A lot actually. And it's the same with your dad and Angel. I loved your
dad. And I miss him. I wish he didn't have to die. But that doesn't mean I'm
going to deny myself the man I loved all my life, now that we have a chance,
now that he is human."
"But he was a vampire once?" Joyce said, the stubborn look back in her eyes.
Uh-oh, Buffy thought. Her it comes. "Yes," she said cautiously.
"Vampires are killers," her daughter said, "they kill people. Are you going
to tell me that you want to live with a killer? With a monster."
It was like listening to Riley, Buffy thought sadly, but this was Joyce, not
Riley, this was her daughter, and Joyce would learn that Angel was
different. "Angel isn't a monster. He's human now. And even before that, he
had a soul. That means he didn't kill people. He didn't bite theim,"
she said, unconsciously touching the scar on her own neck, "On the contrary.
He protected them. He did the same I was doing. He was fighting the good
fight."
"Oh sure," Joyce scoffed, and threw her head back.
"It's true," Buffy insisted, looking her daughter in the eye. "I don't
expect you to love him, Joyce, or even like him. All I want is that you give
him a chance. Maybe he'll surprise you. And if you still don't like him,
well, then at least I expect you to treat him with respect."
"With respect? A vampire?" The girl's voice sounded as if that was the most
ridiculous idea.
"Yes," her mother replied, not letting her daughter's attitude get to her,
"with respect."
Joyce looked at her mother for a long time, and then finally she took a deep
breath, "So that means you have decided you want to be with him already?"
"If he'll have me, yes," Buffy said honestly, thinking about Angel, hoping
that he was all right. She wanted to be with him, hold him, and make all the
hurt she'd caused him go away.
The teenager nodded, and then tilted her head speculatively, "And what if I
won't come back then? What if I decide to stay with Willow?"
Buffy pushed the hurt she felt at her daughter's words away. Yesterday after
Joyce had run from the apartment, she might have gone to her knees and
promised her daughter everything if she just came back. But not today. Today
was different. She'd talked to Angel, to Willow and to Giles and had grown
in 24 hours. "Then," she said, taking a deep breath, "I'll be very sad,
because I love you, because I want you to live with me and your siblings.
But I will have to accept it. I love you, baby, and because I do, I will
always want what's best for you. And if you think, you'd prefer to stay with
Willow," she shrugged, "then I won't try to keep you where you aren't
happy."
She looked at her daughter and saw a myriad of emotions play on the girl's
face. Joyce turned her head away, frowned, bit her lower lip, then after
what seemed like an eternity, she said, "Okay. I'm coming back home. For
now," she added, rising her brow, telling her mother with the gesture, that
the final decision wasn't made today. Couldn't be made today. Still, her
daughter was reaching out to her and Buffy would gladly take what she could
get.
"Good," she said simply, but her eyes were moist.
Joyce nodded, but didn't look at her mother. "Is he going to sleep with you
in yours and Dad's bed?"
Surprised by the question, but understanding what her daughter meant, Buffy
replied, "If you don't want us to, I can get a new one. I have the feeling
that Angel wouldn't be opposed at all to the idea. Maybe we'll even move.
I'm not sure."
Joyce nodded again, and then stood up, put her empty glass in the sink,
"Okay. But I'm not going to call him 'dad'," she said walking towards the
door. "Ever."
Buffy looked at her daughter's retreating back, and then sighed in relief.
It wasn't much of a victory, as far as victories went, but it was a start.
Now she had one thing left to do, the thing that was most probably the biggest
challenge, and then she would get the man she wanted.
... to be continued
Cordelia Chase hated being right. Okay, so most of the time she loved being
right. It always gave you an advantage to be right. And she'd been right
very often. She'd known from the beginning that Xander Harris was a loser,
and that Willow Rosenberg was weird. And life had proven her right. Xander
had married a vengeance demon, had five kids and never - at least not for a long
time - set foot outside of Sunnydale, while Willow was married to a woman.
This wasn't really weird these days, but thinking back on little Willow who
had hardly gotten a word out because she was so painfully shy, the fact that
she'd become a bisexual was high weird potential.
Cordelia had also always known that Buffy Summers was trouble. Big trouble.
The kind of trouble with a big letter T. And again, she'd been right. Only
this time she didn't like it. Because it meant that her best friend, the
person who came, as close to being a big brother to her as possible, was
hurt.
Because she hadn't been able to reach Angel by his cell phone, she had
called Willow and the witch had told her that Angel had left town.
After talking to Willow she had tried to get a hold of Angel again, but his
cell was left off. That was yesterday, but Cordelia still hadn't any luck in
finding him, he hadn't tried to contact her and she still had the keys to
the apartment she had chosen for him in L.A.
To say she was extremely worried by now was an understatement. Of course she
would never have admitted it. "I'm okay," she said stubbornly, gritting her
teeth. Wesley had asked her for the umpteenth time if everything was all
right with her. Obviously she'd lost her skill in keeping up appearances
somewhere during her marriage. Or Wesley had become so good at reading her
that he could see right through her act. Neither possibility was too
appealing at the moment.
"No, you aren't," he replied and sighed. "I know you're worried about Angel.
But he's a grown man. He can look out for himself."
"You don't know what you're talking about," his wife turned away from the
counter and cup in hand came back to the table. "This is about Buffy. That
means it's serious. Beyond serious, actually. Angel never could think
straight when it came to Buffy. You weren't there, you never saw the way he
brooded for a week straight after her first visit in L.A."
"I've seen enough," Wesley said gently, not quite sure if he should be glad
that she cared so much or worry because she got worked up that way. "You
weren't there when Faith came to town. I saw the look on his face. And
remember, I was the one who found him in a drunken stupor almost bursting
into flames. But that was years ago. A lot has changed since then, don't you
think?"
"No. Not where Buffy is concerned. God, I wish," she shook her head,
reminding herself of a wish she'd once made, that Buffy never came to
Sunnydale. But unlike she'd thought the world hadn't been better without the
tiny blond. She combed her hair with one hand and put the cup on the table,
"No, I don't wish she hadn't come into our lives, but why did Angel have to
fall for her? Couldn't he have fallen for some nice girl like... like Fred?"
Her husband stifled a chuckle, "Fred?" he asked, raising a brow. "Cordelia,
Fred wasn't really of this world. She did come around but she was still a
little strange when we managed to get her back where she belonged. Then
there was Kate who - so you told me was crushing on Angel for a while. Kate
is a nice person. But Kate and Angel? And then there was Darla. So given
the choice I'd take Buffy out of all of them."
She frowned slightly at him, and then smiled a bit sheepishly, "If you put
it that way. Still, I think he would've, if not been better, at least his
life would be easier without her."
"You think?" Wesley asked, standing up and slipping his arms around her
waist. "I'm not sure." He grinned at kissed her nose, "Men like challenges.
Just take me. What other reason would I have to hook up with you?"
Slightly pulling away, Cordelia scrunched her nose in indignation. "Don't
even dare to compare me to Buffy Summers. We're not even remotely alike."
"No, not at all," he replied, and managed to keep a straight face. "Cordy,
darling, stop worrying about Buffy and Angel. He's over 250 years old and
should know how to manage his relationships, and as far as Buffy, she isn't
a teenager anymore. She's grown up as well, has three children. I don't
think they need our help. That's not to say they won't get it if they come
and ask for it. I would never close my door to either of them, but they have
to ask for a change."
"But-"
"No buts," he said firmly. "I'm sure Angel is alright. Maybe he was just
late yesterday and didn't want to disturb at the late hour because of the
children. He has a credit card and knows how to rent a room for a night. And
don't start with his cell phone. Maybe he just needed to think-"
"Brood," she threw in, pouting at him.
He smiled, kissed her nose again, "Okay, brood. I know you don't like it,
but over the years I've come to understand that Angel needs it from time to
time. It's his way of dealing with things. Do you remember when Darla came
back to L.A. insisting that the child she was carrying was his? He went into
a several daylong brooding-session. Afterwards he had all worked out and
offered her to take care of the baby, but made it perfectly clear that not
for one moment he was buying the idea he could be the father. That it didn't
work out in the end wasn't his fault."
"No," she admitted on a sigh. "Certainly not." The affair with Darla's child
wasn't something she wanted to remember. Although it had in the end led to
the downfall of Wolfram & Hart, it had been a terrible thing for Angel.
"But what's more important is that he made it through it. Granted, he'll
carry scars for the rest of his now blessedly mortal life, but we all carry
scars. In Angel's case they just made him stronger, more determined to get
things done. I trust him, Cordelia. He knows exactly what he does. Much better
than we do. And I'm sure he will-" call you soon, he wanted to say when the
doorbell rang.
*****
Joyce stopped dead in her tracks when she entered the kitchen after school.
"Hi, honey," Buffy greeted her.
Of all people Joyce had expected to see sitting in Willow's kitchen, her
mother was number 200 on the list. Hadn't she made it perfectly clear that
she didn't want Buffy near? She wasn't as angry anymore as she'd been
yesterday, but that didn't mean she was all happy about seeing her.
Without even sparing her mother a glance, she walked over to the cupboard,
took out a glass, went to the fridge and filled it with milk, all the time
ignoring Buffy's presence, although her jerky movements betrayed the truth.
Joyce was tense as a bow and had no idea how to react to her mother sitting
casually at the table. "Where are Willow and Tara?" she asked instead.
"At work," her mother replied.
Joyce raised a brow, and sipping at her glass, she asked, "And who let you
in?"
"Willow gave me her key," Buffy said with a smile, lifting the object she
was still holding in her hand. "I told her we had to talk about some things
and she thought it was a good idea."
"Oh, really?" the girl's voice sounded sarcastic. "Newsflash, mom, I don't
want to talk to you. So you can just leave. I'll give the key back to
Willow."
"No need," her mother's smile didn't waver, "because I'm staying, and I'm
going to talk to you, and afterwards I can give the key back myself."
"I can't speak for you, but I'm certainly not going to talk-"
"Shut up," Buffy interrupted her daughter, her voice never rising.
Joyce's eyes widened and she stared at the woman in front of her. Was that
really her mother? After her father had died, Buffy had, if she wasn't
drunk, never spoken a harsh word to her. Her voice was still pleasant now,
but the look in her eyes told her that she was absolutely serious about
this.
"Just sit down," the ex-slayer ordered. "You don't have to talk. Just
listen. Sit," she said again and nodded pointedly at the chair opposite to
hers.
Her daughter glared at her, but finally sat down, crossed her arms in front
of her chest and with a stubborn expression stared at her mother.
"See, that wasn't really hard, was it?" Buffy said, her smile warming. "I
know you're angry, and I also admit you have a right to be. I neglected you
for the last six months, and there is absolutely no excuse for it. But maybe
I can try to explain, what caused it? And why you found me with Angel." She
looked at her daughter for a moment, and when she got no reaction, just the
same stubborn stare, she stifled a sigh and went on.
"Angel and I met when I was just sixteen, younger than you are today. I was
a slayer and he was a vampire with a soul. We did something nobody expected,
we fell in love," she laughed slightly, "Just think about it, mortal enemies
falling in love." She shook her head, laughed again. "To say the world
around us was shocked is clearly an understatement. I know, Willow already
told you something about it, but I think you should hear my version as
well."
Buffy got up and poured herself a glass of orange juice. Putting the juice
back into the fridge, she turned to her daughter again, "On my seventeenth
birthday I slept with him." She saw Joyce's eyes widen in surprise, the
first sign that the girl was really listening, and nodded. "I suppose Willow
left that out, huh? But you're a big girl. I think you can deal with it.
Anyways. As a result Angel lost his soul. The reason was, there was a clause
in his curse. It said that if he was ever to achieve true happiness, he
would lose his soul."
Reclaiming her chair, the ex-slayer sighed, "The time after that was
difficult. I had lost my virginity to him. I loved him more than I could say
and now a demon was wearing the face of my lover. It was one of the most
difficult times in my life." She smiled slightly, trying to remember what
Willow had told her about her talk with Joyce. "When Angel returned from
Hell, we were both so scared. Too scared to even touch. Scared that one of
us would lose control and make his soul snap again. Finally he was the more
adult of us two and left. It broke his heart and mine."
"He... he just left you?" Joyce asked.
Buffy gave her a smile, "Yeah, he did. He broke off with me in a sewer
tunnel."
"That's gross," her daughter commented with a grimace.
The ex-slayer chuckled, "Well, I didn't even notice at that time. I couldn't
believe he was leaving me. He stayed for a little while because we were
fighting a strong demon and..." she shrugged. "I wouldn't have made it
without him. Or without Willow, Xander and Giles for that matter."
"What about... Dad?" Joyce asked tentatively, finally getting her hero into
the story. She knew that her father had once been a demon-hunter and she'd
always admired him.
"He wasn't in the picture then," her mother answered. "I met him several
months later. And he was wonderful. Exactly what I needed, exactly the way
you remember him. Gentle, loving, a friend. But..." She took a deep breath,
knowing that now was the time for her biggest revelation, hoping that her
daughter would understand, "It wasn't the same. With Angel it was that
once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. But we both knew there was no chance. So he
left and I moved on. With your father. And I couldn't have had a better,
more loving husband and you had the most wonderful father."
Joyce felt tears welling up in her eyes and gulped, "You... you didn't love
Dad?" she asked, her voice weak, defeated.
"NO!" her mother replied more sharply than she'd intended. "I did love your
father. There are different kinds of love, baby. I love you, and Ben, and
Marlie. Still it isn't the same way I love Willow for example. And I do love
her. A lot actually. And it's the same with your dad and Angel. I loved your
dad. And I miss him. I wish he didn't have to die. But that doesn't mean I'm
going to deny myself the man I loved all my life, now that we have a chance,
now that he is human."
"But he was a vampire once?" Joyce said, the stubborn look back in her eyes.
Uh-oh, Buffy thought. Her it comes. "Yes," she said cautiously.
"Vampires are killers," her daughter said, "they kill people. Are you going
to tell me that you want to live with a killer? With a monster."
It was like listening to Riley, Buffy thought sadly, but this was Joyce, not
Riley, this was her daughter, and Joyce would learn that Angel was
different. "Angel isn't a monster. He's human now. And even before that, he
had a soul. That means he didn't kill people. He didn't bite theim,"
she said, unconsciously touching the scar on her own neck, "On the contrary.
He protected them. He did the same I was doing. He was fighting the good
fight."
"Oh sure," Joyce scoffed, and threw her head back.
"It's true," Buffy insisted, looking her daughter in the eye. "I don't
expect you to love him, Joyce, or even like him. All I want is that you give
him a chance. Maybe he'll surprise you. And if you still don't like him,
well, then at least I expect you to treat him with respect."
"With respect? A vampire?" The girl's voice sounded as if that was the most
ridiculous idea.
"Yes," her mother replied, not letting her daughter's attitude get to her,
"with respect."
Joyce looked at her mother for a long time, and then finally she took a deep
breath, "So that means you have decided you want to be with him already?"
"If he'll have me, yes," Buffy said honestly, thinking about Angel, hoping
that he was all right. She wanted to be with him, hold him, and make all the
hurt she'd caused him go away.
The teenager nodded, and then tilted her head speculatively, "And what if I
won't come back then? What if I decide to stay with Willow?"
Buffy pushed the hurt she felt at her daughter's words away. Yesterday after
Joyce had run from the apartment, she might have gone to her knees and
promised her daughter everything if she just came back. But not today. Today
was different. She'd talked to Angel, to Willow and to Giles and had grown
in 24 hours. "Then," she said, taking a deep breath, "I'll be very sad,
because I love you, because I want you to live with me and your siblings.
But I will have to accept it. I love you, baby, and because I do, I will
always want what's best for you. And if you think, you'd prefer to stay with
Willow," she shrugged, "then I won't try to keep you where you aren't
happy."
She looked at her daughter and saw a myriad of emotions play on the girl's
face. Joyce turned her head away, frowned, bit her lower lip, then after
what seemed like an eternity, she said, "Okay. I'm coming back home. For
now," she added, rising her brow, telling her mother with the gesture, that
the final decision wasn't made today. Couldn't be made today. Still, her
daughter was reaching out to her and Buffy would gladly take what she could
get.
"Good," she said simply, but her eyes were moist.
Joyce nodded, but didn't look at her mother. "Is he going to sleep with you
in yours and Dad's bed?"
Surprised by the question, but understanding what her daughter meant, Buffy
replied, "If you don't want us to, I can get a new one. I have the feeling
that Angel wouldn't be opposed at all to the idea. Maybe we'll even move.
I'm not sure."
Joyce nodded again, and then stood up, put her empty glass in the sink,
"Okay. But I'm not going to call him 'dad'," she said walking towards the
door. "Ever."
Buffy looked at her daughter's retreating back, and then sighed in relief.
It wasn't much of a victory, as far as victories went, but it was a start.
Now she had one thing left to do, the thing that was most probably the biggest
challenge, and then she would get the man she wanted.
... to be continued
