Tuesday Morning
Willow awakened before Oz. She stayed still, her head resting on
Oz's chest, listening to his breathing. He stirred about ten
minutes later, and she smiled at him.
"Babe?"
"Just looking. It's so peaceful here. Usually, I wake up and my
thoughts are, well, whirling, but here I'm at peace."
Oz leaned toward her and kissed her. "That's like how I feel. I
look at you, and everything becomes clear." They kissed again.
"No more ironic detachment?"
"None."
"Good. If there's one good thing about the Hellmouth, it's that
it made us stand for something. God, I was a mouse before I
knew. If Buff hadn't come here--"
"You'd be dead, possibly a vampire."
"Well, that too. But following Buff--I learned to stand up for
the good guys. And for myself. The only good thing about the
Hellmouth."
"Yes." He kissed her again. She placed her finger on his lips and
said, "Shh. Enjoy." and began to kiss her way down his body.
---
Xander stirred in their sleeping bag, and his elbow caught
Cordelia in the shoulder.
"Hey, Fish-boy, watch out where you put your fins."
"Huh?" Xander flipped onto his back and sighed. "You certainly
found a way to make me feel crabby."
"You're an easy one to bait."
"I told you you'd pay for this." He held her head to his and
kissed her hard.
"Right." They continued kissing for a few minutes, and then
Xander gently pressed upon her shoulders, pushing her lower.
"Selfish much?"
"Sometimes. I told you that you'd pay."
---
Joyce awakened, and stifled a yawn so as not to disturb her
daughter. She turned toward the other bed in her hotel room, and
smiled as she saw a still-asleep Buffy. Buffy's hair lay in
swirls around her head, her face bright in the morning light, and
her body relaxed and slack. A damp spot on her pillow showed
where her mouth had rested, and Joyce giggled at her babyish
drooling. "If only she could sleep like this always," Joyce
thought.
Joyce sat on her bed hugging her pillow, a token of her sleeping
daughter. She remembered many a night's vigil watching over Buffy
during childhood illnesses, during flu and chicken pox, during
colds and ear infections. Sometimes, Hank would sit with her, or
would take over for her, but Joyce always had felt it was her job
and no other's. Buffy was her daughter, her always surprising
daughter. Now, she sat vigil again. She watched. She Watched.
There, next door, was Giles, with twenty years of training in
monsters, spells, weapons, and battles, but only three years of
hard-won experience in dealing with a girl's heart. And here she
was, with eighteen years of hard-won experience at raising a
daughter, of changing diapers and soothing scraped knees, of
confronting school cliques and selling girl scout cookies. She
had watched Buffy aglow with first crushes and sullen over later
disappointments. She had seen Buffy betrayed by her distant
father, her divorcing father, her disappearing father.
But she had had few glimpses of her daughter's terrifying world,
of a boy who not only broke her daughter's heart but devoured
others, of solitary battles with inhuman monsters, of betrayal by
human monsters, of fate and of unwanted destiny. People in 1999
did not have destinies, but her daughter did. Buffy should have
been a normal teenager, making normal teenage mistakes, arguing
with her about curfews and boyfriends, schoolwork and school
dances. Even mistakes with sex or with (God forbid!) drugs should
have caused private pain and suffering alone. But her daughter
could not make a mistake without profound consequences for her
and those she loved, and now she saw that even Buffy's successes
still were accompanied by pain and grief. It was an unfair burden
laid upon her daughter, and she did not know what to do about it.
Buffy, still asleep, made a little sigh and rocked her
head. Joyce supposed she was dreaming; she hoped it was about ice
skating or some similarly innocent pursuit. Then she heard a
quiet tapping from the front door; she quietly rose, put on her
robe and went to answer it. She looked through the view glass,
and found whom she expected.
"Rupert?"
"Ah, Joyce. Are you well?"
"I'm fine, Rupert. Come in." They walked into the room, and Joyce
sat down on her bed. Giles remained standing, and Joyce shook her
head. Ethan had much to answer for.
"She really is beautiful when she doesn't have to worry," Giles
said.
"She is. I so rarely see her like this, not for many
years. First, Hank and I. Then, Hemery. Then Sunnydale."
"She's at peace now, Joyce."
"For how long, Rupert?"
They said nothing more for a few minutes, and then Buffy stirred
and looked at them. "What, is Buffy-watching a spectator sport
now?"
"Yes," said Joyce.
Giles said, "Let's get ready for breakfast. I've reserved rooms
for us in Berkeley."
"We pronounce that with an e here, Rupert. You're right,
though. Let's go eat."
---
Willow and Oz stood at his window, arm in arm. They heard the
noises of a suburban weekday morning: bird calls and engine
throbs, dog barks and baby cries. They heard the house's garage
door open, saw two cars drive away, and heard the door close
again. Oz murmured, "They know when to leave me alone."
"And I am thankful. That would have been embarrassing."
"And you--why?" Oz fell silent again.
"I love you, silly. I want to please you. And I want you to know
you can be selfish sometimes."
"Will."
"This isn't math class. We're not solving equations here."
"But, I'm supposed to--"
"Be the sensitive guy? Always take your turn? We're past that."
"Oh." Oz thought for a moment, and shook his head. "Yes."
"What's up for today?"
Oz thought a moment longer. "I'll talk to Devon and the guys
about the service. Oh, and I have to get my suit
dry-cleaned. You?"
"Jon and I are working out a program for the service. Then, I
guess, I'll try to write my speech."
---
Cordelia and Xander had packed their tent and duffel bags; they
now looked over the campground.
"One last day here," said Xander.
"One last day."
"I won't try."
"Don't."
"But, you could--"
"No."
Xander made an exaggerated sigh and flopped to the ground. "The
beach then?"
"Okay. But not that beach."
"And then, Sunnydale. We'll want to get back before sundown."
"Back to the Bronze."
"We practically lived there for three years."
"Well, you did. I got away from you losers sometimes, you know."
"Yes you did. With Moe, and Curly, and Larry."
"Never Larry."
"Anyhow, back to the Bronze. Where will you stay after that?"
"Your place, mine, it doesn't matter. Your dad, my mom--flip a
coin."
"Parents." It sounded like a curse.
"We really have to do better at that."
"We?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Someday."
They picked up their things and walked to Xander's car. As they
put their bags into the trunk, Xander asked her a question.
"Have you forgiven me yet?"
Cordelia stared at him. He didn't have a smirk on his face, and
he didn't look awkward either.
"Not all the way yet. It still hurts. Willow still hurts."
"Then, why did you come with me, really?"
"I guess I still loved you, even when I wanted to stab
you. Anyhow, I couldn't forget you." They closed the trunk and
took their seats. As Xander put the car in gear, Cordelia started
speaking again. "It wasn't even the dress. It was that you bought
it for me with no hope of reward. You looked so happy seeing me
in it; you'd have been happy for me if I had gone off with
Wesley."
"I'd have hated him for it, you know. That empty tux."
"Yes, but you'd have been happy for me. You weren't trying to get
me back."
"So, I got you."
"Besides, I really am tired of hating people. And after our big
boom, I think it's time to let it go."
---
Tuesday Afternoon
Buffy, Joyce, and Giles sat in a Telegraph Avenue cafe, sipping
coffees and watching the Berkeley crowd go by.
"Does this remind you of Oxford, Rupert?"
"Not really. Oxford is much older. And the people here are
new. Infuriatingly so."
"Giles, you're getting all stuffy again."
"I am not."
"You are too."
"Don't be childish, hon."
Buffy remained quiet for a moment. Joyce and Giles relaxed in
their seats, and then Buffy said, "It's just that it's always old
things that are trying to get me killed. Old vamps, old
prophecies, old demons, and old traditions."
Giles looked down at the floor, and then Buffy touched his arm
and said, "I didn't mean to remind you. It's just that we've made
new traditions. And when the Council tells us to be a good little
girl and boy and just die for the cause, we don't listen."
"We use the past; we don't let it use us."
"'When in the course of human events,'" said Joyce.
"Exactly," said Giles. "I hope you don't expect me to start the
American Council of Watchers, Buffy."
"Why not? You and Willow would be a fine start."
They returned to their coffee, and later browsed the shops and
bookstores of Berkeley.
---
"Here we go, Cordy. Ten minutes to Sunnydale." They were back at
the 7-11 they had visited three days before.
"Hell-town. Why am I not pleased?"
"I don't know, Cordy. Because the place nearly killed us?"
"Yeah, well, I'm not staying."
"I know. What about tonight?"
"My place. I'd rather deal with my mom than your dad."
"The Bronze first, though. I'll need an overdose of caffeine to
deal with either."
"Well, duh! Our home away from home. Who did you just call
anyway?"
"You'll find out." Xander started the car, pulled it back onto
the road, and flipped on the radio. "Hey folks, this is KSDL,
Sunnydale's Classic Rock Station, and we have a request for from
'X' to dedicate this next song to 'Queen C'. Be a little more
obscure, folks. Please! Anyhow, here's The Boss with No
Surrender."
We busted out of class, had to get away from those fools,
We learned more from a three-minute record, baby, then we ever
learned in school.
Tonight I hear the neighborhood drummer sound,
I can feel my heart begin to pound,
You say you're tired and you just want to close your eyes,
And follow your dreams down.
Cordy turned the volume up, and they sang along with the
chorus. It wasn't the music they danced to at the Bronze, but
they knew it almost genetically.
We made a promise we swore we'd always remember,
No retreat, baby, no surrender.
Like soldiers in the winter's night with a vow to defend,
No retreat, baby, no surrender.
"Soldiers. I never wanted to be a soldier."
"I liked you with the rocket launcher."
Now young faces grow sad and old,
And hearts of fire grow cold,
We swore blood brothers against the wind,
Now I'm ready to grow young again.
And hear your sister's voice calling us home,
Across the open yards,
Well maybe we could cut some place of our own,
With these drums and these guitars.
"I feel sad and old."
"I'm sorry."
"That's why I'm leaving."
'Cause we made a promise we swore we'd always remember,
No retreat, baby, no surrender.
Blood brothers in the stormy night with a vow to defend,
No retreat, baby, no surrender.
"You'll still help defend them?"
"What else can I do?"
Now on the street tonight the lights grow dim,
The walls of my room are closing in,
There's a war outside still raging,
You say it ain't ours anymore to win,
I want to sleep beneath peaceful skies in my lover's bed,
With a wide open country in my eyes, and these romantic dreams in
my head.
"One day, maybe."
'Cause we made a promise we swore we'd always remember,
No retreat, baby, no surrender.
Blood brothers in the stormy night with a vow to defend,
No retreat, baby, no surrender.
"I'll always remember." "We'll always remember."
They reached the Bronze just as the sun set; the bouncer waved
them through without bothering to collect the cover charge. Two
posters had been put up near the front door; one announced a
blood drive at Sunnydale Medical, and the other announced the
community memorial service one week later. Cordy and Xander
shrugged at each other, and they moved to the usual Slayerette's
table. Xander ordered their burgers, and they listened to the
music.
A half-hour later, when they had finished their dinners and they
were about to move to the dance floor, Xander noticed Willow and
Oz sweep through the front door. Xander felt a familiar twinge in
his traitorous heart. Willow, who could have been his Willow had
he not been blind or deaf, Willow, his best friend and oldest
memory, Willow, the desirable, desired, and fulfilled--he wanted
to get up and hug the breath out of her. Of course, he would be
stabbing Cordy in the back again.
He gripped Cordy's hand and looked at her. "You love too many
people," she hissed at him. "I know. I love Willow. I love
Buffy. I love you. Do you expect me to change?" "At least you're
honest."
Willow and Oz had wound their way through the crowd by then and
had reached their table; Willow said, "Hey, glad you're back." Oz
added, "Cordy, Xander." They sat down next to Cordy.
No one said anything for a minute; without Slaying to discuss,
all they had were themselves to talk about, and too many of their
possible topics of conversation would pain one of them. Willow
broke down first; she asked, "So what have you been doing?" Cordy
stared at her, and Willow immediately turned red with
embarrassment. "Just about the same thing you've been doing,"
Cordy said. Willow turned to Oz and leaned into his shoulder, and
Oz and Xander smiled. A moment later, Willow began to giggle,
Xander and Oz joined her, and suddenly, all four of them were
laughing together.
The people at the next table turned to glare at them, and they
began to calm down; then Xander asked Willow, "So, was it good
for you?" Then, they all just lost it. Even Oz forgot himself and
joined in.
When they had finally recovered, Xander said, "I guess we finally
figured it out. And we needed this." Cordy leaned over and
kissed his cheek.
Willow then said, "We have been doing something else, you know."
Cordy prompted her, and Willow continued: "Oz and I have been
working on the memorial service--Jonathon's idea. You will help,
won't you?" Cordy and Xander glanced away, and Willow glared at
them. "You will, won't you?" Xander gave in and said, "What
should we do?" "Decorations. Set up and tear down. Do it for
Jesse. And for Kevin." "Okay," said Cordy. "Oh, and Larry's
funeral is tomorrow. Be there." Xander stared at his shoes for a
moment, and then he nodded.
---
"Who is Rupert to you, hon?"
"He's my Watcher." Buffy lay back onto her bed.
"That's a job description, not a person. What does Rupert mean to
you? Do you think of him as a father-figure?"
Buffy paused, and then she said, "Did Dad call? Has he called at
all about graduation? Have you heard from him at all?"
"I'm sorry, Buffy."
"He doesn't care about me, or you. Well, if he ever calls, you
don't tell him anything about the battle. He doesn't have any
right to know."
"He's not the man I married."
"And Giles isn't my father. I don't like fathers. I don't trust
fathers. But Giles--"
Joyce gripped the bedspread; no one should have to be wounded
so. "Yes?"
"He's seen my darkest nights, and he understands them. And I've
seen him at his worst, and I understand him. Sometimes, we don't
have to say a word to each other--we just know. And that look of
joy when they gave me the award at the Prom--it was special."
"You love him."
"I guess. I do." Joyce frowned. "Not like that, Mom. Do you think
I could do what I do without it being for love? Giles, Willow,
Xander--without them, I'd be dead."
"I just wish you didn't have to go through this."
"I know I've lost a lot, but I've gained a lot too. It feels
right."
---
"So Giles took Buffy and Joyce away?"
"Yes, Xander."
"Buff must be freaking out there; you saw Ripper and Joyce
together."
"Oh, come on, Xander. They'd never--I mean they're too old and
too--what's the word--stiff."
"Oh, come on, Cordy. Just because We--" Cordy's elbow interrupted
him. "Just because what's-his-name couldn't kiss worth a damn
doesn't mean Giles can't. And Ripper certainly wasn't stiff."
"Cordelia, my parents still have a good sex life."
"Oz, how do you know?"
"I know, Willow. I can tell."
"Well, it'll be weird for Buffy; I mean, she trains and Slays
with Giles every day."
"I just don't see the problem."
"Well, I'm sure Buffy does," said Xander.
Cordelia drained her cup of coffee, and then she added, "Well, if
my parents or yours screwed more, perhaps they wouldn't be so
screwed up."
"Thank you for sharing, Cordy."
Oz and Willow got up as Xander and Cordy started one of their
traditional fights, and they went to the dance floor. Ten
minutes later, they looked back at the table and saw Xander and
Cordy kissing each other fiercely. Some things never change.
Five minutes after that, Xander and Cordy joined them, Cordy
reminding Xander not to spaz out. And ten minutes after that,
they were all spazzing out and singing along with R.E.M. on the
jukebox:
It's the end of the world as we know it,
It's the end of the world as we know it,
It's the end of the world as we know it,
And I feel fine!
---
"So, why are you so disturbed by the thought of Rupert and I
together?"
"Well, there's the parents shouldn't have sex thing."
"Grow up, hon."
"And Giles--he's been just there in my life so long; we train
together, read together, fight together, and every day. I mean,
I'd have to hold a crossbow on Dad to get him to pay attention to
me."
"I'll try to give you the chance if you want."
"But, Giles is always there for me; I guess I just think of him
as mine."
"Oh, hon. Oh, hon. That's the one thing you cannot do. You can't
make him into just your Watcher. Do you want to be just the
Slayer?"
"No. I have a life."
"Well, you can't make him just be just your Watcher. Dad
couldn't make me be just a housewife, and I couldn't make him be
just the good husband."
"Pity."
"I tried, but he didn't want to cooperate. And we blew up."
"I'm sorry. I sure didn't help, did I?"
"I thought your problems were a symptom of ours, not a cause. How
could we know that your problems were vampires?"
"You couldn't. Did Dad blame me?"
"I don't know. He never said."
"But Giles and you? Are you interested in him?"
"Well, he is attractive, but no. Actually, you are the only thing
we have in common." Joyce turned away from Buffy and looked at
the connecting door to Giles' room. "I hope I'm not fooling
myself," she thought.
Willow awakened before Oz. She stayed still, her head resting on
Oz's chest, listening to his breathing. He stirred about ten
minutes later, and she smiled at him.
"Babe?"
"Just looking. It's so peaceful here. Usually, I wake up and my
thoughts are, well, whirling, but here I'm at peace."
Oz leaned toward her and kissed her. "That's like how I feel. I
look at you, and everything becomes clear." They kissed again.
"No more ironic detachment?"
"None."
"Good. If there's one good thing about the Hellmouth, it's that
it made us stand for something. God, I was a mouse before I
knew. If Buff hadn't come here--"
"You'd be dead, possibly a vampire."
"Well, that too. But following Buff--I learned to stand up for
the good guys. And for myself. The only good thing about the
Hellmouth."
"Yes." He kissed her again. She placed her finger on his lips and
said, "Shh. Enjoy." and began to kiss her way down his body.
---
Xander stirred in their sleeping bag, and his elbow caught
Cordelia in the shoulder.
"Hey, Fish-boy, watch out where you put your fins."
"Huh?" Xander flipped onto his back and sighed. "You certainly
found a way to make me feel crabby."
"You're an easy one to bait."
"I told you you'd pay for this." He held her head to his and
kissed her hard.
"Right." They continued kissing for a few minutes, and then
Xander gently pressed upon her shoulders, pushing her lower.
"Selfish much?"
"Sometimes. I told you that you'd pay."
---
Joyce awakened, and stifled a yawn so as not to disturb her
daughter. She turned toward the other bed in her hotel room, and
smiled as she saw a still-asleep Buffy. Buffy's hair lay in
swirls around her head, her face bright in the morning light, and
her body relaxed and slack. A damp spot on her pillow showed
where her mouth had rested, and Joyce giggled at her babyish
drooling. "If only she could sleep like this always," Joyce
thought.
Joyce sat on her bed hugging her pillow, a token of her sleeping
daughter. She remembered many a night's vigil watching over Buffy
during childhood illnesses, during flu and chicken pox, during
colds and ear infections. Sometimes, Hank would sit with her, or
would take over for her, but Joyce always had felt it was her job
and no other's. Buffy was her daughter, her always surprising
daughter. Now, she sat vigil again. She watched. She Watched.
There, next door, was Giles, with twenty years of training in
monsters, spells, weapons, and battles, but only three years of
hard-won experience in dealing with a girl's heart. And here she
was, with eighteen years of hard-won experience at raising a
daughter, of changing diapers and soothing scraped knees, of
confronting school cliques and selling girl scout cookies. She
had watched Buffy aglow with first crushes and sullen over later
disappointments. She had seen Buffy betrayed by her distant
father, her divorcing father, her disappearing father.
But she had had few glimpses of her daughter's terrifying world,
of a boy who not only broke her daughter's heart but devoured
others, of solitary battles with inhuman monsters, of betrayal by
human monsters, of fate and of unwanted destiny. People in 1999
did not have destinies, but her daughter did. Buffy should have
been a normal teenager, making normal teenage mistakes, arguing
with her about curfews and boyfriends, schoolwork and school
dances. Even mistakes with sex or with (God forbid!) drugs should
have caused private pain and suffering alone. But her daughter
could not make a mistake without profound consequences for her
and those she loved, and now she saw that even Buffy's successes
still were accompanied by pain and grief. It was an unfair burden
laid upon her daughter, and she did not know what to do about it.
Buffy, still asleep, made a little sigh and rocked her
head. Joyce supposed she was dreaming; she hoped it was about ice
skating or some similarly innocent pursuit. Then she heard a
quiet tapping from the front door; she quietly rose, put on her
robe and went to answer it. She looked through the view glass,
and found whom she expected.
"Rupert?"
"Ah, Joyce. Are you well?"
"I'm fine, Rupert. Come in." They walked into the room, and Joyce
sat down on her bed. Giles remained standing, and Joyce shook her
head. Ethan had much to answer for.
"She really is beautiful when she doesn't have to worry," Giles
said.
"She is. I so rarely see her like this, not for many
years. First, Hank and I. Then, Hemery. Then Sunnydale."
"She's at peace now, Joyce."
"For how long, Rupert?"
They said nothing more for a few minutes, and then Buffy stirred
and looked at them. "What, is Buffy-watching a spectator sport
now?"
"Yes," said Joyce.
Giles said, "Let's get ready for breakfast. I've reserved rooms
for us in Berkeley."
"We pronounce that with an e here, Rupert. You're right,
though. Let's go eat."
---
Willow and Oz stood at his window, arm in arm. They heard the
noises of a suburban weekday morning: bird calls and engine
throbs, dog barks and baby cries. They heard the house's garage
door open, saw two cars drive away, and heard the door close
again. Oz murmured, "They know when to leave me alone."
"And I am thankful. That would have been embarrassing."
"And you--why?" Oz fell silent again.
"I love you, silly. I want to please you. And I want you to know
you can be selfish sometimes."
"Will."
"This isn't math class. We're not solving equations here."
"But, I'm supposed to--"
"Be the sensitive guy? Always take your turn? We're past that."
"Oh." Oz thought for a moment, and shook his head. "Yes."
"What's up for today?"
Oz thought a moment longer. "I'll talk to Devon and the guys
about the service. Oh, and I have to get my suit
dry-cleaned. You?"
"Jon and I are working out a program for the service. Then, I
guess, I'll try to write my speech."
---
Cordelia and Xander had packed their tent and duffel bags; they
now looked over the campground.
"One last day here," said Xander.
"One last day."
"I won't try."
"Don't."
"But, you could--"
"No."
Xander made an exaggerated sigh and flopped to the ground. "The
beach then?"
"Okay. But not that beach."
"And then, Sunnydale. We'll want to get back before sundown."
"Back to the Bronze."
"We practically lived there for three years."
"Well, you did. I got away from you losers sometimes, you know."
"Yes you did. With Moe, and Curly, and Larry."
"Never Larry."
"Anyhow, back to the Bronze. Where will you stay after that?"
"Your place, mine, it doesn't matter. Your dad, my mom--flip a
coin."
"Parents." It sounded like a curse.
"We really have to do better at that."
"We?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Someday."
They picked up their things and walked to Xander's car. As they
put their bags into the trunk, Xander asked her a question.
"Have you forgiven me yet?"
Cordelia stared at him. He didn't have a smirk on his face, and
he didn't look awkward either.
"Not all the way yet. It still hurts. Willow still hurts."
"Then, why did you come with me, really?"
"I guess I still loved you, even when I wanted to stab
you. Anyhow, I couldn't forget you." They closed the trunk and
took their seats. As Xander put the car in gear, Cordelia started
speaking again. "It wasn't even the dress. It was that you bought
it for me with no hope of reward. You looked so happy seeing me
in it; you'd have been happy for me if I had gone off with
Wesley."
"I'd have hated him for it, you know. That empty tux."
"Yes, but you'd have been happy for me. You weren't trying to get
me back."
"So, I got you."
"Besides, I really am tired of hating people. And after our big
boom, I think it's time to let it go."
---
Tuesday Afternoon
Buffy, Joyce, and Giles sat in a Telegraph Avenue cafe, sipping
coffees and watching the Berkeley crowd go by.
"Does this remind you of Oxford, Rupert?"
"Not really. Oxford is much older. And the people here are
new. Infuriatingly so."
"Giles, you're getting all stuffy again."
"I am not."
"You are too."
"Don't be childish, hon."
Buffy remained quiet for a moment. Joyce and Giles relaxed in
their seats, and then Buffy said, "It's just that it's always old
things that are trying to get me killed. Old vamps, old
prophecies, old demons, and old traditions."
Giles looked down at the floor, and then Buffy touched his arm
and said, "I didn't mean to remind you. It's just that we've made
new traditions. And when the Council tells us to be a good little
girl and boy and just die for the cause, we don't listen."
"We use the past; we don't let it use us."
"'When in the course of human events,'" said Joyce.
"Exactly," said Giles. "I hope you don't expect me to start the
American Council of Watchers, Buffy."
"Why not? You and Willow would be a fine start."
They returned to their coffee, and later browsed the shops and
bookstores of Berkeley.
---
"Here we go, Cordy. Ten minutes to Sunnydale." They were back at
the 7-11 they had visited three days before.
"Hell-town. Why am I not pleased?"
"I don't know, Cordy. Because the place nearly killed us?"
"Yeah, well, I'm not staying."
"I know. What about tonight?"
"My place. I'd rather deal with my mom than your dad."
"The Bronze first, though. I'll need an overdose of caffeine to
deal with either."
"Well, duh! Our home away from home. Who did you just call
anyway?"
"You'll find out." Xander started the car, pulled it back onto
the road, and flipped on the radio. "Hey folks, this is KSDL,
Sunnydale's Classic Rock Station, and we have a request for from
'X' to dedicate this next song to 'Queen C'. Be a little more
obscure, folks. Please! Anyhow, here's The Boss with No
Surrender."
We busted out of class, had to get away from those fools,
We learned more from a three-minute record, baby, then we ever
learned in school.
Tonight I hear the neighborhood drummer sound,
I can feel my heart begin to pound,
You say you're tired and you just want to close your eyes,
And follow your dreams down.
Cordy turned the volume up, and they sang along with the
chorus. It wasn't the music they danced to at the Bronze, but
they knew it almost genetically.
We made a promise we swore we'd always remember,
No retreat, baby, no surrender.
Like soldiers in the winter's night with a vow to defend,
No retreat, baby, no surrender.
"Soldiers. I never wanted to be a soldier."
"I liked you with the rocket launcher."
Now young faces grow sad and old,
And hearts of fire grow cold,
We swore blood brothers against the wind,
Now I'm ready to grow young again.
And hear your sister's voice calling us home,
Across the open yards,
Well maybe we could cut some place of our own,
With these drums and these guitars.
"I feel sad and old."
"I'm sorry."
"That's why I'm leaving."
'Cause we made a promise we swore we'd always remember,
No retreat, baby, no surrender.
Blood brothers in the stormy night with a vow to defend,
No retreat, baby, no surrender.
"You'll still help defend them?"
"What else can I do?"
Now on the street tonight the lights grow dim,
The walls of my room are closing in,
There's a war outside still raging,
You say it ain't ours anymore to win,
I want to sleep beneath peaceful skies in my lover's bed,
With a wide open country in my eyes, and these romantic dreams in
my head.
"One day, maybe."
'Cause we made a promise we swore we'd always remember,
No retreat, baby, no surrender.
Blood brothers in the stormy night with a vow to defend,
No retreat, baby, no surrender.
"I'll always remember." "We'll always remember."
They reached the Bronze just as the sun set; the bouncer waved
them through without bothering to collect the cover charge. Two
posters had been put up near the front door; one announced a
blood drive at Sunnydale Medical, and the other announced the
community memorial service one week later. Cordy and Xander
shrugged at each other, and they moved to the usual Slayerette's
table. Xander ordered their burgers, and they listened to the
music.
A half-hour later, when they had finished their dinners and they
were about to move to the dance floor, Xander noticed Willow and
Oz sweep through the front door. Xander felt a familiar twinge in
his traitorous heart. Willow, who could have been his Willow had
he not been blind or deaf, Willow, his best friend and oldest
memory, Willow, the desirable, desired, and fulfilled--he wanted
to get up and hug the breath out of her. Of course, he would be
stabbing Cordy in the back again.
He gripped Cordy's hand and looked at her. "You love too many
people," she hissed at him. "I know. I love Willow. I love
Buffy. I love you. Do you expect me to change?" "At least you're
honest."
Willow and Oz had wound their way through the crowd by then and
had reached their table; Willow said, "Hey, glad you're back." Oz
added, "Cordy, Xander." They sat down next to Cordy.
No one said anything for a minute; without Slaying to discuss,
all they had were themselves to talk about, and too many of their
possible topics of conversation would pain one of them. Willow
broke down first; she asked, "So what have you been doing?" Cordy
stared at her, and Willow immediately turned red with
embarrassment. "Just about the same thing you've been doing,"
Cordy said. Willow turned to Oz and leaned into his shoulder, and
Oz and Xander smiled. A moment later, Willow began to giggle,
Xander and Oz joined her, and suddenly, all four of them were
laughing together.
The people at the next table turned to glare at them, and they
began to calm down; then Xander asked Willow, "So, was it good
for you?" Then, they all just lost it. Even Oz forgot himself and
joined in.
When they had finally recovered, Xander said, "I guess we finally
figured it out. And we needed this." Cordy leaned over and
kissed his cheek.
Willow then said, "We have been doing something else, you know."
Cordy prompted her, and Willow continued: "Oz and I have been
working on the memorial service--Jonathon's idea. You will help,
won't you?" Cordy and Xander glanced away, and Willow glared at
them. "You will, won't you?" Xander gave in and said, "What
should we do?" "Decorations. Set up and tear down. Do it for
Jesse. And for Kevin." "Okay," said Cordy. "Oh, and Larry's
funeral is tomorrow. Be there." Xander stared at his shoes for a
moment, and then he nodded.
---
"Who is Rupert to you, hon?"
"He's my Watcher." Buffy lay back onto her bed.
"That's a job description, not a person. What does Rupert mean to
you? Do you think of him as a father-figure?"
Buffy paused, and then she said, "Did Dad call? Has he called at
all about graduation? Have you heard from him at all?"
"I'm sorry, Buffy."
"He doesn't care about me, or you. Well, if he ever calls, you
don't tell him anything about the battle. He doesn't have any
right to know."
"He's not the man I married."
"And Giles isn't my father. I don't like fathers. I don't trust
fathers. But Giles--"
Joyce gripped the bedspread; no one should have to be wounded
so. "Yes?"
"He's seen my darkest nights, and he understands them. And I've
seen him at his worst, and I understand him. Sometimes, we don't
have to say a word to each other--we just know. And that look of
joy when they gave me the award at the Prom--it was special."
"You love him."
"I guess. I do." Joyce frowned. "Not like that, Mom. Do you think
I could do what I do without it being for love? Giles, Willow,
Xander--without them, I'd be dead."
"I just wish you didn't have to go through this."
"I know I've lost a lot, but I've gained a lot too. It feels
right."
---
"So Giles took Buffy and Joyce away?"
"Yes, Xander."
"Buff must be freaking out there; you saw Ripper and Joyce
together."
"Oh, come on, Xander. They'd never--I mean they're too old and
too--what's the word--stiff."
"Oh, come on, Cordy. Just because We--" Cordy's elbow interrupted
him. "Just because what's-his-name couldn't kiss worth a damn
doesn't mean Giles can't. And Ripper certainly wasn't stiff."
"Cordelia, my parents still have a good sex life."
"Oz, how do you know?"
"I know, Willow. I can tell."
"Well, it'll be weird for Buffy; I mean, she trains and Slays
with Giles every day."
"I just don't see the problem."
"Well, I'm sure Buffy does," said Xander.
Cordelia drained her cup of coffee, and then she added, "Well, if
my parents or yours screwed more, perhaps they wouldn't be so
screwed up."
"Thank you for sharing, Cordy."
Oz and Willow got up as Xander and Cordy started one of their
traditional fights, and they went to the dance floor. Ten
minutes later, they looked back at the table and saw Xander and
Cordy kissing each other fiercely. Some things never change.
Five minutes after that, Xander and Cordy joined them, Cordy
reminding Xander not to spaz out. And ten minutes after that,
they were all spazzing out and singing along with R.E.M. on the
jukebox:
It's the end of the world as we know it,
It's the end of the world as we know it,
It's the end of the world as we know it,
And I feel fine!
---
"So, why are you so disturbed by the thought of Rupert and I
together?"
"Well, there's the parents shouldn't have sex thing."
"Grow up, hon."
"And Giles--he's been just there in my life so long; we train
together, read together, fight together, and every day. I mean,
I'd have to hold a crossbow on Dad to get him to pay attention to
me."
"I'll try to give you the chance if you want."
"But, Giles is always there for me; I guess I just think of him
as mine."
"Oh, hon. Oh, hon. That's the one thing you cannot do. You can't
make him into just your Watcher. Do you want to be just the
Slayer?"
"No. I have a life."
"Well, you can't make him just be just your Watcher. Dad
couldn't make me be just a housewife, and I couldn't make him be
just the good husband."
"Pity."
"I tried, but he didn't want to cooperate. And we blew up."
"I'm sorry. I sure didn't help, did I?"
"I thought your problems were a symptom of ours, not a cause. How
could we know that your problems were vampires?"
"You couldn't. Did Dad blame me?"
"I don't know. He never said."
"But Giles and you? Are you interested in him?"
"Well, he is attractive, but no. Actually, you are the only thing
we have in common." Joyce turned away from Buffy and looked at
the connecting door to Giles' room. "I hope I'm not fooling
myself," she thought.
