Title: The Nancy Tribe
Author: his_luv_pet
Series: BtVS
Part: 3/?
Rating: PG-13 to R
Codes: R/J Amnesia!Verse, also W/T, A/R
Summary: Where do we go from here? Literally, how to stay in the Amnesia!Verse without totally blowing the plotline to hell. We already know we have to suspend disbelief, now don't we? After that, the Adventures of Randy & Joan & the rest of the Nancy Tribe.
Spoilers: Tabula Rasa -- *Really* AU after that!
Disclaimer: [Insert obligatory funny disclaimer, homage to Joss, and unworthiness statement here.]
Feedback: Tell me -- his_luv_pet@yahoo.com
Website: http://www.geocities.com/his_luv_pet
Posting: Let me know...then sure!

A/N: More character exposition here; action is coming next segment! I've been asked about that pesky crystal in Willow's pocket, what about when rest of the world coming to Sunnydale, as in AtS folks, are we getting smoochies, and other nifty questions in the feedback that has been effulgent poetry to my soul. All will be addressed eventually, gentle readers, hopefully to your satisfaction...

***

Rupert pulled up in front of the old-fashioned house on Revello Drive. The three sat it the car and looked at the structure, silently willing themselves to remember something, anything about it.

"It's a nice looking house," Willow finally offered, glancing at Tara in the back and then back at Rupert.

"Yes," Rupert and Tara agreed quickly, but no conversation progressed from this. No one seemed to want to get out of the car either.

"Well, this is ridiculous," Rupert sniffed in inimitable British fashion. "We have a perfect right to be here, you as tenants, and me as, well, owner of this house." This galvanized the occupants to at least get out of Rupert's car and make their way up to the front porch of the house. He pulled out a key ring and fiddled with the keys on it. "Hmm, which one do you suppose?"

"Perhaps it's the one marked 'Summers House'," Tara said helpfully.

Rupert found the desired key with the small white tag and put it in the lock, smiled ruefully at Tara, and replied, "Thank you." She beamed back at him, infused with an affection that she hadn't an explanation for. Almost as if he were a favorite uncle or something.

She mentally shrugged as Willow and her followed Rupert through the door of the house. As Willow passed by, she brushed against Tara, and Tara felt her breath intake sharply. It matched her own reaction. As they got inside the dimly lit house, they gazed at one another, feeling a pull that transcended curiosity and pulsed with unlaying passion and attraction.

"Right, lights here I think," Rupert's voice shattered the spell of their intensely silent gaze and they both looked at him as he flicked some light switches to reveal a large, rambling house.

"Big," Willow said with wide eyes. "But in nice, biggish sort of way," she finished crinkling up her eyebrows and nodding.

Tara smiled at her and said, "Why don't we split up and look at the different rooms? That way we can cover more ground in less time."

"Capital idea, Tara," Giles approved. "I'll take the kitchen and this utility area. Why don't you and Willow take the upstairs and we can meet in the living room for the last?" They all agreed and made their way through the house to search for their pasts. Rupert found the telephone and started dialing the magic shop's number.

***

Alex and Dawn made their way to what appeared to be the center of town. It wasn't much of a metropolis, but it would do. They stopped and sat at a nearby bench under a tree and watched the people go by.

"Does anything look familiar to you, Alex?" Dawn said suddenly, looking at him with a worried look on her face.

"Not a thing, Dawnie," he commiserated. "I keep thinking something oughta pop out at me and say, 'hey, that's where I learned to parallel park', or 'that's where my buddies and I saw Star Wars', or something like that. But nothin'," he finished sighing.

"Me, neither," Dawn shook her head. "It seems so weird, but I get this feeling that I'm familiar with not know what's happened to me in my life. Like it's all happened before. That too weird, huh?"

"Total weirdness," Alex agreed. "Let's go see if that butcher shop over there has any blood for sale." They got up and strolled up the sidewalk toward the shop.

"How much do you think we should buy?"

Alex stopped and looked at Dawn, perplexed. "You know, I never even thought to ask Randy that."

"Well, he might not even know," she replied after thinking a moment. "I mean, he's as clueless as we are about who we are, what we like, where we live. "

"Good thinking, Dawn" Alex approved. "I should have asked him. I guess we'll have to get some today and let him figure out how much he needs, then we can get some more."

Dawn suddenly asked, "Do we have any money to pay for this stuff?"

Alex pawed around in his pockets and found a clip with some bills in it. "Sure. Looks like I've got enough to get some, even if it's expensive."

"If we have enough left over, maybe we could get some lunch and take it back to the magic shop?" Dawn asked hopefully.

"Sure, but we gotta get Randy his, uh, beverage, first, 'cause it's not like he can go out in the daylight and get it himself, you know," Alex said.

"You right, Alex," Dawn agreed, smiling at him with stars in her eyes.

Alex grinned back at her, totally oblivious to the stars, and said, "Nice to find somebody who thinks I'm right." They entered the butcher shop together. Oddly enough, there was a line at the counter behind a sign that read, "Fresh blood at noon daily".

"Looks like we came to the right place," Dawn observed, taking it all in. They took their place in the back of the line.

***

"It's funny, they don't have any family pictures on the wall or anything," Tara observed as they made their way upstairs.

"I don't know, but family togetherness doesn't ring any bells with me," Willow replied, turning into the first room they came to.

It was a moderate sized room, with slightly empty look about it, as if the occupant had been in high school, then went to college, and only came back once in a while. Nothing adorned the walls, the desk was cleared, and there were few knickknacks.

"Do you suppose this was Buffy Summer's room?" Willow almost whispered. "It looks so sad, like it could be."

"Yeah, I get that vibe from it. Like she's left it somehow, and not coming back," Tara answered in a hushed tone.

"I'm gonna see if there are any papers in the desk," Willow crossed carefully to the desk, as if trying not to disturb the spirit of the life's leftovers of a dead woman. She opened a few drawers and filtered through their contents. "Nothing," she looked over at Tara, who was peering into the closet.

"Just some clothes," Tara said smiling sadly. "They look like Joan's size. She probably moved in here after Buffy Summers died."

Willow came to take a look at the closet's contents. "They're Joan's size," she nodded. "Let's take her something when we go back. She'll be glad to get changed." Tara nodded and they picked out some things for her to wear and laid them on the bed.

"Let's go take a look at the other rooms," Tara said looking up at Willow, catching her staring at herself. "What?"

"I was just thinking how pretty you are in this light," Willow replied in a low but steady voice.

Tara touched a hand to her cheek, utterly surprised. "Me?" she got out.

"Uh huh," Willow stepped over to her, catching her other cheek in the palm of her hand. "Very," and kissed her gently. After a moment, she pulled back and looked at Tara, who had an astonished expression on her face and passion awakened in her eyes.

"Maybe we could continue this later?" Willow said softly. "When we're not so busy?"

"OK," Tara replied softly. "I'd l-like that very much." They smiled at one another as they made their way to the next room.

***

Joan awoke to the feeling of comfort and safety. Her head cleared and she became aware of Randy's arm snug about her waist. They were spooned together on the mats and her head rested on his chest below his chin, one hand clasped around his about her waist. It felt so right. She wriggled a bit, stretching her legs.

"Hold still," mumbled Randy. "I just got comfortable."

"Well, I have to get up," Joan said pushing at his arm to get up, feeling contrary for some unknown reason. "And you've slept long enough, the sun's gone down," she noted the lack of light behind the curtains of the room.

"Mfgghh," Randy mumbled and stretched a bit and looked up at Joan. "Good evening," he said formally, but his look was purely appreciative.

"Yeah," Joan looked at him with a glare, and then spoiled it by grinning herself.

Quick as lightening, Randy was up and twirling her around in an impromptu waltz to no music. Joan laughed, "What are you doing?"

"My father has forgiven me for who I am, my step-mom to be is actually nice, my friend and your sister are getting me something to eat, and I woke up with a lovely young lady who just happens to be a superhero," he smiled and he dipped her back and twirled in another direction flawlessly. "What's not to like?"

Joan grinned back at Randy, sort of getting into the whole dancing bit. They collapsed on the floor, laughing, still in each other's arms. Randy gazed at her. The laughter stopped, and the silence grew. The light in the room had dimmed more as twig light progressed, and Joan could barely see his face, but somehow didn't need to. She knew his face intimately. She felt like she could look at it for hours without tiring.

Randy swore that his heart was beating faster, even though he knew it couldn't. Just looking at Joan caused such a combined joy and pain; he feared it would cause him injury. He wanted her so much that he knew he would do anything, *anything* to have her. Not just sexually, but in everyway. He wanted to be in her, about her, and live for her. It swept over him in waves and he couldn't help himself. One hand reached up and cupped her face, the other drifted to her shoulder, and he pulled her to him.

The kiss came gently at first, then worked its way up to the passion that lay in them both. They pulled back once, Joan gasping, Randy with a supremely puzzled and wondrous look on his face. Then, they both returned to the kiss with a savage delight, rolling over the mats, pushing and pulling, as if trying to meld themselves together, in an act that went beyond sex. Presently, the lay on the mats, looking at each other, Joan's panting subsiding. They had stopped kissing simultaneously, knowing that if the didn't stop there, that they might be explaining a few things to Anya and Rupert and the others.

"I think we should talk about this," Randy said finally, gently pushing a stray curl from Joan's face.

Joan looked down, then back up at Randy, "I...I don't know how to talk about it." She tried again, "It's like there's a part of me that wants to say something, but it's stuck," she gestured to her heart, "here, and it won't come out." She sounded miserable.

"It's OK," Randy replied softly. "I'll go first." He looked at Joan for confirmation, seeing her clearly in the gloom. She nodded. "I don't quite know how to put this, but I have feelings for you," he told her in a husky voice.

"How, how can you know this?" Joan asked.

"I'm not sure of a lot of things," Randy said. "But I know how I feel about you. It's inside of me. It's almost the only thing inside of me, except...Well, when I look at the others, Dawn especially, I feel good. And, when I was fighting those vampires, I felt great, really alive, which, when you think about it, is pretty odd. But, there's very little else that I have any feelings about. I guess that I've forgotten a lot of who I was, but I think I remember the important parts anyway," he finished.

"You really feel all those things, without even knowing who you are?" Joan marveled. "I just wish I knew that much about myself," she added sadly. "I feel like I ought to be taking care of everyone, especially Dawn, and that I care about all of them, and...." she looked up at him suddenly, almost wishing she didn't have to say it. "I get the feeling around you that I trust you, but I don't trust you, that I like you, but I don't like you, and that...maybe...I feel something more, but that I won't let myself think about it." She shook her head, "It's so totally messed up in my brain. The only thing that feels totally natural and happy thoughts for me was when I was killing those vampires. I *knew* who I was then."

"Well, then," Randy replied. "That's a start. You're Joan the Vampire Slayer."

"Yeah," she whispered. "But what if I want to be more?" She reached over and took Randy's hand. "What if I *want* to really trust you?" She didn't elaborate on the rest of her sentence, but the meaning as clear.

"You can trust me, Joan," Randy said intensely. "I would never do anything to hurt you. I don't want to hurt *anyone*. I don't care what I am; nothing could make me want to hurt anyone. I belong with my family and friends, and I want to be with you," his voice shook with emotion.

"That's of the good," Joan said, and to her horror, sniffed as tears started running down her face.

"Hello, what's this then?" Randy soothed and he gently brushed the tears away, rummaging in his pocket with his other hand, presently finding a handkerchief, with which he finished the job.

"I don't think I like crying much," Joan said when she thought she could control herself. "I'm pretty sure of that."

"Then don't do it, pet," Randy murmured to her as he pulled her into his arms and she burrowed into his shoulder. "No need to anyway."

"No, there isn't," she said happily, her reply muffled by tweed, but so not caring about it.

The darkness fell and the two were silent, waiting for the call to go back out into the world that had vampires and life histories in it.

End Part 3