Part 2

Joyce stared absently at the dark liquid occupying her favorite mug. The coffee, which had long-since turned cold, wore its typical blank expression. She had been standing here, leaning on the counter, for the better part of two hours. She wasn't the type of woman who easily became lost in thought. Or she wasn't until a couple months ago, when it all started. Yes, roughly two months ago, if it had been a typical Saturday morning, Joyce would have drank her tea hours ago, claiming stubbornly that she would never lay a hand on the addictive caffeine-driven drink, and would most likely be headed to brunch with "the girls." But now…now she was reduced to grieving for her now non-existent social life and pondering where she went wrong. Buffy had never been an easy child. As a baby she was loud and made a huge racket at anything that didn't go her way. Things really hadn't changed throughout her upbringing. Learning right and wrong and to always say please and thank-you hadn't lessened the never-ending flow of charisma and outgoing spunk. She was matter-of-fact and was always there when you needed someone to be tactless and just tell it like it was.

Yes, Joyce always knew that Buffy was never the go-with-the-flow kind of person but this…? Well this was just…completely…well, there weren't really any suitable words she could think of to describe her complicated feelings for what her daughter had done. When she'd first found out… Well maybe she would have reacted differently if she'd heard in a somewhat different way. Of all the events in her life, that day was the one that she knew would stay the longest. Not her wedding or Buffy's birth or when her and Hank had finally decided to divorce, rather a day in mid-February that was now permanently engraved in her mind. It had been one of those days where you could practically taste the apprehension in the air and you just knew that something immense and "life-changing" was going to happen. Joyce had walked into the salon, just as she did every month, and it suddenly got way too quiet and strained. She'd taken her regular seat and picked up the new ET and started to wait, all the while ignoring the indirect glances she was receiving from everyone in the room.

After what seemed like eternity of waiting with stares, brushing with stares, cutting with stares, dying with stares, tin-removing with stares, washing with stares and finally drying with stares, Joyce had thrown all reasonable thoughts out the window and was ready to do a great impression of Mike Tyson. She practically fled the hairdresser, trying to escape the twenty pairs of eyes that followed her.

The second she stepped through her front door, she had the phone in hand and was in the process of calling her best friend, demanding to know what was going on. The woman had come over, and after a reluctant period of Joyce almost begging to be told why people were acting this way, Jenny had finally given in and guardedly admitting that there were certain rumors going around about a certain daughter.

Joyce shuddered little as she thought about what had happened that night. For the entire day she had refused to acknowledge what she'd been told, and Buffy, who had been oddly quiet for the past few weeks, noticed that her mom was acting way cheerful and openly fake. As the night progressed, Joyce had finally gone out her mind with uncertain anxiety and had basically cornered Buffy with what Jenny had said. And after roughly a half an hour of her screaming out how she discovered the truth because Buffy's doctor's sister-in-law had been at the office while Buffy was having an appointment and she, eager to gain social expectance, had gone and squealed to Carla Chase, who had in turn told her all her little society-elite friends about it and they had each told their friends who had told their friends… And so the town knew. They all knew. Buffy Summers, junior at Sunnydale High, was pregnant. And that she didn't (supposedly) know who the father was, on top of all that.

And now Joyce was here, hoping – praying – that some sort of miracle would happen and she would wake up covered in sweat and know that it was all just a nightmare. And she would go tell Buffy, who was still in school and not sporting a significant bulge on her normally flat stomach, and they would be able to laugh together before Buffy went off to go see a movie with friends. So far that hadn't happened.

Joyce's head rose reluctantly as she heard a knock on the door. She pulled herself off the counter and on the way out, dumped the full cup of coffee in the sink. It didn't do any good anyway…

"Jenny." She forced a smile as she admitted her in. The two of them had known each other since before Buffy had been born. Hank Summers and Rupert Giles had been friends in college, and one Christmas, Hank had brought Giles back to Sunnydale to visit. That was where him and Jenny had met, fallen in love and proceeded to marry and buy a house. Though Buffy had parents, the couple was like a second family, and their support had never wavered throughout all this.

Jenny gave her a smile that Joyce knew was supposed to be comforting but all she could see was sympathy. After exchanging a quick hand squeeze, she asked, "How are you?"

Joyce tried to laugh but only it came out as more of a small sob. She shook her head. "I've had better days."

"And Buffy?"

Again, Joyce shook her head, a motion that she'd been doing more and more often lately. "I don't even know. I know I should be doing something differently and that I'm being a horrible mother, but every time I look at her…" A shudder worked itself through her body and she realized what she was saying.

"What?" Jenny prompted, though she was fairly sure she knew was going through the woman's mind. "You what?"

Joyce looked up at her, a strained expression on her face. "I feel…I feel disgusted. My daughter is seventeen and she went of and got herself pregnant. She has nice friends, Jenny. They're nice and they're all close. And Buffy…Buffy's…good. This isn't like her."

"You've said that before," Jenny said quietly, "but maybe it is. You need to talk to her. It's been months and all you can say to me is that Buffy would never do anything like this, yet you haven't even talked to her about what actually happened. Have you even tried?"

"Yes." Pause. "No. I can't."

"That's not the problem. You have to because you're her mother. You can't just ignore this. It's not just going to go away."

Joyce ran her fingers laggardly across her face and shut her eyes unwaveringly. When they were slowly reopened, she nodded and a small "I know" was heard.

Jenny studied her face for a few prolonged moments, considering whether or not to say more. She felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness to Buffy Summers and sometimes wanted to just take action and get to the bottom of this whole…ordeal. But she half-heartedly convinced herself that that wasn't her place; it was Joyce's. She shouldn't try to overstep her relationship with either of them. She reached into the bag on her shoulder and pulled out a folder. "I brought Buffy's work. I just have to go over a project for her English class."

Joyce nodded wordlessly, motioning her head towards the stairs. Jenny stood there for another minute but when she could find nothing more to say, she turned around and left Joyce standing in the hall, a lost expression on her face.

"Knock, knock."

Buffy looked up from her seat on the bed and was surprised when she actually felt some happiness wiggle its way into her system. "Hi, Jenny."

The woman smiled generously as she scooted next to her. "How you doing?" Buffy gave her a pensive smile and shrug. "Have you seen the doctor lately?"

Despite circumstances, Buffy's eyes caught their long-lost spark for a brief flicker of time. She reached over and pulled something from her drawer. She handed the orange colored folder to Jenny and waited. Jenny gave her a slightly unsure look as she pulled out the contents. The expression, though, quickly melted away and a grin spread across her face. "Buffy…" she said, a small hint of amazement in her voice. "Wow…" In her hands were four sonograms of the baby, and she could almost unmistakably make-out its legs and head.

"I'm about three months," Buffy said softly, her eyes never leaving the pictures. She had stared at them for the past week and she still was completely blown away each time. This was her baby. And it was healthy and happy and warm inside her and she was going to take care of it. Her hands subconsciously went to her abdomen, and she smiled a little, her first genuine one of the day. "I didn't think I wanted to know but…" She let out a subdued laugh and said, "I guess I haven't learned patience yet. It's a girl."

Jenny's head shot up and her eyes met Buffy's dancing ones. "It's… Buffy, that's…that's wonderful."

Buffy felt the familiar sensation of her eyes filling. They'd been doing that a lot… "I sure think so," she said at rare moment of lightheartedness, making Jenny's smile grow wider still.

They were both silent for a moment, both trying to manage their feelings about the news. Eventually, Jenny tore she eyes away from the semi-transparent sheets and carefully replaced them in their folder before handing it back to Buffy, her face still filled was pleasure. As Buffy replaced them back in their drawer, Jenny said, "As much as you know I would love to break out the chocolate and think of names with you, Snyder wants me to give this to you right away." She passed the pack of papers to her. "It's for the parents'-night."

"What?" Buffy asked, skimming though a small stack.

"Oh you know, it's the three-fourths-through-the-year-point, and he wants to show the parents that the school's actually teaching you to write stuff so everyone has to post these for the end of the months. Even the teachers…"

Buffy looked up and the corners of her mouth curved a little as Jenny sighed forlornly at thought. "What's the project?"

"Something about the best advice someone every gave you. Or maybe it was the best advice you ever gave… Anyway, it should be pretty stupid, as always. What is it with principals anyway?"

"No idea, but they all seem to hate me all the same so…"

"Trust me when I say, I don't think it's just you," Jenny said, her eyebrows raising with out an ounce of doubt.

"I'm sure teachers like the students that don't get themselves pregnant and drop out of school."

Jenny's demeanor changed instantly and she leaned forward, shaking her head in declination. "Buffy, no. You have to stop this. It's not helping and it's not healthy."

Buffy looked away, she eyes clinging to a piece of lint resting on the bedspread. She had become incredibly good at willing herself not to cry and this was no exception. Her eyes stung adamantly but she was indifferent and kept them open, her gaze never wavering. Jenny let out a small noise of exasperated amazement along with a disbelieving look. "Buffy, my God! Would you stop beating yourself up for two seconds and listen to what you're saying? I see you at least once a week and I see the way your eyes light up when you talk about the baby. I know you refuse to tell anyone about what happened but you can't sit there and tell me you don't want to be a mother because you would be lying."

Buffy shook her head rapidly. "N-no. Wanting this baby was never the problem. I…I screwed up my life, my mother's life, my friends…" She had opened her mouth and had begun to say 'and' but, catching herself, snapped it shut.

Jenny had seen that happen oh-so-many times and fought back a groan of frustration. She always, whether or not she realized it, held her breath when Buffy showed actually emotions besides desolation, hoping that for just once she'd get everything out and just say what she had refused to expose. God, she was too stubborn…