He'd seen her. He knew she wasn't a figment of his imagination, because hey! What other short girl could wield a stake with that much competence, right? So yes, he'd seen Buffy. Of course, it didn't explain why she'd run as soon as he said her name — and sweet merciful Zeus, was he ever going to learn that running through town was a bad idea for someone who didn't do all that much running to begin with?
Slowed as he was by the stitch in his side, Xander was a bit surprised that he was able to keep up with Buffy. After an initial burst of speed, her running had slowed to human normal. He figured she must want him to catch up to her, but not too quickly. 'Yeah. That's it,' he thought. It was a way to distract himself from the very real fear that he wasn't going to die by a tragic and random barbecue fork incident, but would, instead, be dead at the age of eighteen by heart attack.
As he rounded a corner, he saw her disappear into a very familiar apartment complex. "Great ... Giles' place ... can die ... inside," he panted out, wanting to hear his voice one last time. He pushed himself to follow Buffy through the door, and found himself face-to-face with some kind of wild woman — who knew his name.
"Buffy ... get your ..." He tried to get the rest out, but he'd just run two miles too many, and he needed to catch his breath or die. He wasn't entirely certain which option he was hoping for. He vowed at that moment not to skip gym or Giles' training sessions for the nonchosen ever again, because really, it wasn't manly by any stretch of the imagination to collapse from oxygen deprivation right before a fight was going to start.
He felt a hand on his back and heard Giles ask in a low voice, "Are you going to be sick?" He hadn't known what humiliation was until that moment. Bad enough that he was doubled over. Worse that the one man he knew and respected was asking if he was going to hurl. He thought about that for a moment, then realized there was something even worse — he really didn't know if he was going to toss his cookies or not.
Giles, his hand still on Xander's back, said, "I'm going to take him into the bathroom and cool him down a bit."
"Better move fast," Buffy said. "I don't think he's going to hold it."
"Moving." Giles had already turned Xander around and was steering him toward the bathroom.
'Great. Not only do I get the thrilling experience of —' Xander's thought was cut off as Giles parked him in front of the toilet and started running cold water.
"Really, Xander. I don't know what you were thinking. How far did you run? No. Don't answer. Just stay there for a moment." Giles kept up a running commentary as he soaked a washcloth in cold water, then wrung it out before putting it on the young man's neck. Through it all, Xander just crouched over the toilet and prayed that on top of every other humiliation he'd experienced within the last half hour, vomiting into Giles' toilet wouldn't be added to the list.
After a few minutes, Xander's heart rate and stomach had both settled, and he wasn't trying to gulp down oxygen. He was closer to normal than he had been, and said with only minimal wheezing, "Okay. Feeling better."
"You're sure?" Giles wasn't thrilled with Xander's color. He hadn't bothered trying to maintain any form of physical training over the summer other than attempting to fill Buffy's shoes. If Giles hadn't been so caught up in his attempts to locate his Slayer, he would have insisted on a more rigorous training schedule for Xander, Willow and the others, just to ensure they were fit enough to protect themselves. He was suddenly glad that Buffy wanted to stop patrolling. It meant he wouldn't have to worry so much about the children's involvement in this particular war any longer.
"I'm fine, G-Man," Xander said, realizing he meant it. "Not gonna die tonight."
His voice dry enough to suck the moisture out of the air, Giles answered, "You will if you call me 'G-Man' one more time. If you're quite recovered, let's go back into the lounge."
"Lounge? Living room. How many times do I — wait. Buffy! Buffy's back, right? I didn't imagine it?" It was all Giles could do not to wince at the look of hope on Xander's face. Bad enough that Buffy had changed so drastically. Worse that she had no desire to see him at the moment. He could only hope that she would be willing to talk to him. It was one thing to decide sight unseen not to talk to an old friend. It was entirely something else to maintain that distance when confronted with the person face-to-face.
"You didn't imagine it —" Giles took hold of Xander's arm as he tried to race back out to the lounge and said, "Xander, wait. Things are different. You need to understand."
"Understand what?" Xander tried to shake off his hand, but he'd forgotten just how strong Giles was.
"Buffy's changed," he said, uncertain of telling him anything. Had this conversation taken place this morning, Giles would have just explained everything without a second thought. But that was before Buffy had made it clear that she was not only capable of dealing with such issues herself, she was willing. Still, she hadn't followed them into the bathroom yet, and that may have been answer enough as to what she wanted him to do.
"Changed? How much could she have changed? It's only been three months. C'mon, Giles, let me go. I want to talk to her. Thank her for saving my life again." Xander tried again to break free of Giles' grip, but he was again prevented from rushing out.
"Three months for us, but twenty-one years for her," Giles said, his quiet voice belying the amount of force he had to use to keep Xander in the bathroom. Fortunately, his comment at last made him stop fighting.
"Huh?" Xander looked at Giles, genuinely confused. "But I just saw her. She looked seventeen to me."
"You saw Annie. My daughter." Giles looked up, relieved to see Buffy standing there, willing to talk to Xander.
"What? Who are —?" Both Buffy and Giles could see the exact moment when Xander started processing what he'd been told. Shock and disbelief warred with anger, and eventually, anger won out. "Look, lady. I don't know who you are or what load of crap you've been feeding Giles, but I'm not buying it."
"Xander —" Buffy and Giles had started speaking at the same time, but he cut himself off and nodded to Buffy to continue.
"It's not a load of bull," she started, keeping her voice calm and steady. "Two days ago, I was still seventeen, but I got trapped in a hell dimension. Time runs a lot faster there, so while five hours passed in this dimension, twenty-one years passed in Hell. You with me so far?"
Xander shook his head, trying very hard to maintain his level of denial. But before he could start objecting, Buffy continued, "You don't believe I'm Buffy? How's this — the morning I went to fight Angelus, you told me Willow said to kick his ass. Remember?"
He nodded, not really thinking about what he'd just confessed to in front of a witness. "You didn't tell anyone else what you said to me, did you?"
He shook his head and said, "No. No one."
Buffy's face took on a harder appearance as she continued, "That's because you didn't want anyone to know you lied to me, right?"
"Ri —" Xander stopped, horrified by what he'd said. Didn't matter if he stopped himself before adding that last consonant. He'd just admitted to lying to one of his best friends. As he looked at the woman standing before him, his brain started playing catch-up and making the connections. Her eyes, cold though they were, most definitely looked familiar. He remembered that selfsame look when she'd been ready to confront Angelus for the last time. And joy of joys, that look was now directed at him.
As he opened his mouth to speak, his walkie-talkie let out a squawk and he heard, "Xander, you poophead! Where are you?" He had to hand it to Will. Her timing was right on target.
Giles had let go of him by this time, so he was able to pull his radio off his belt and not blush too hard at the look the woman — 'Could she really be Buffy?' — gave him. "Hey. I'm, uh, I'm at Giles' place."
"You're at Giles'? I thought he was going up to Fresno to look for Buffy this weekend," came Willow's voice over the radio.
"Yeah, well. Things change," Xander said, a sickly smile on his face.
When Buffy heard Fresno, she looked at Giles and raised a single eyebrow. He shrugged in apology, no more willing than she to speak while Xander and Willow were talking.
"Well, if the two of you are there, we're coming over tea and those little cookies he has," she said, sounding cheerier than she had when she first started talking.
Buffy shook her head and started backing away. She was barely able to deal with Xander at the moment, and she was fairly certain that having to cope with the rest of them was an idea so hugely bad that the gods would laugh themselves sick over it.
At her look of panic, Giles took the radio from Xander's hand. After a moment of fumbling with it, he said, "Hold on a moment, Willow." He handed it back to Xander and told him, "Wait here. Buffy and I need to talk."
She was shaking her head even as she backed her way through the hall. "I don't want to see them. Hell, I didn't even want to see Xander. Please don't let them come here."
"You have to see them sooner or later," he said, his voice gentle. "It's not much different than seeing your mother, after all."
"Yes it is. I wanted to see her," she answered, stopping as she reached the kitchen.
Giles sighed, wondering where the warrior had gone off to. "Why don't you want to see them?"
"Did you happen to notice the disaster that just happened in your bathroom? I already spent three hours today convincing my mother who I am. I'm not sure I have another three hours in me," she said with an equal blend of anger, exasperation and desperation. "Xander still isn't convinced I'm me. Do you honestly think I want to multiply that by three?"
"Four, actually, if you count Cordelia," he said without thinking. At the look on her face, he quickly added, "The longer you avoid them, the harder it will be to meet them. Better to get it over with now, Buffy. You know this."
As Annie listened from her perch on the stairs to the two of them talk, she felt horrible about what she'd done to her mother. She never should have gone so far from the apartment. If she hadn't, that boy wouldn't be here now, and her mother wouldn't be so upset.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice only a little better than a whisper.
Quiet though she was, it was enough to catch Buffy's attention. She broke off glaring at Giles and turned to her daughter. "What did you say, Annie?"
She cleared her throat and said, "I'm sorry. If I hadn't gone all the way to the city center, he never would have seen me."
"Yeah. And I'd be dead," Xander answered.
Giles scowled at him. "I believe I asked you to stay in the bathroom."
"You've also asked me like a gazillion times not to call you 'G-Man,' and I have yet to pay attention," he said, continuing to look at the woman — Buffy — and the other girl. Coming to a decision, he walked past Giles and put on his best goofy smile to say to the girl, "Hi! I'm Xander. Thanks for dusting that vamp."
Annie looked to her mother for a clue on how to answer, but she was pulling her stoneface routine. There'd be no help for her from Uncle Rupert, either — he was too busy watching Mom. Great. Just when she was ready to hate the people her mother used to be friends with, they didn't seem to be quite as bad as she thought they should be. Annie didn't know what to think of them anymore. But she was still George Fitzgerald's daughter, and her father had made sure she knew her manners almost as soon as she could talk. She remained on the steps, answering politely, if a bit distantly, "I'm Annie. And you're welcome."
At that, Xander turned back to Buffy, the grin disappearing entirely. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Buffy wanted to cringe at her tone of voice, but having him show up so unexpectedly was too much. She didn't want to deal with this today or tomorrow or even next week. She wanted to give herself and Annie time to adjust to being in a place where they didn't have to post guards and where food — her stomach growled at the thought — where food was available twenty-four hours a day. Instead, she was looking at Xander and watching him curl up and die a little at the way she was talking to him. And he didn't deserve it.
Well. Not all of it.
"Xander — I'm sorry. I didn't mean to speak to you like that," she said. "You surprised me. Annie and I only just got in yesterday, and I'm still — I'm not used to being around humans yet."
Gods, she was glad to see a little bit of the light come back into his eyes. They still had to deal with the matter of him lying to her, but if she was going to emphasize the whole honesty deal, the truth was, she could have left L.A. a week earlier and still been the same age as her friends.
"It's not your fault," he said, eager to make with the nice. "You're right. I lied — it was wrong. And I'm so sorry. And are you sure you're Buffy?"
She blinked at the last question and said, "Yeah. I was when I woke up this morning. Pretty sure I didn't wander into any stray curses since then."
"You just look so —" He stopped abruptly, some rare hint of self-preservation pointing out that finishing that sentence would likely end in a great deal of pain.
"Old?" Her lips twitched upward in an all-too-familiar grin, and suddenly, even with the scars and wrinkles and dreadlocks, she was the Buffy he remembered.
He lurched forward, stumbling slightly, and pulled her in for a hug. His face in her hair, he said, "I've missed you so much. The Hellmouth just hasn't been the same without you."
There was only the briefest hesitation before she returned his hug and said, "I've missed you, too."
At that, he tensed up and said, "Did you miss me enough that you'll forgive me when you find out I told Willow and the others to come over?"
"I don't get why we have to go to Giles' place. It's stupid," said Cordelia. She was driving, only occasionally looking into the rearview mirror to check her make-up. To all outward appearances, she didn't seem to care about either of her passengers, but the reality was that every time she took a corner just a shade too fast, it was all she could do not to burst into laughter at the look of panic on Willow's face. The fact that she was dating Xander only meant Cordelia couldn't torture Willow overtly anymore. But she could still play little games — like just barely missing a parked car. 'Honestly,' Cordelia thought, 'would I have gotten a license if I really sucked this bad at driving?'
Willow, alternately clutching at her seat belt and the door handle, tried to keep her voice level as she answered, "Xander said it was impor — watch out for that bike!"
"Relax. I see it," Cordelia said as she missed it by a solid two inches.
She'd made a bet with herself on how long Willow would last without saying something about an impending collision, and she won, with four minutes to spare. She didn't allow herself even the faintest smile as she thought about making a trip to L.A. for a new pair of boots. The trip to Mexico had been rotten. She'd wanted a European shopping spree to update her wardrobe, but her parents insisted that Los Palmos was the place to be. Cordelia hadn't been the slightest bit pleased to start school last Monday with American fashions. It was okay, though. Daddy would pay.
"Anyway, Xander said it was important," Willow gasped out. On some level, she knew that no legal driver could be as bad as Cordelia seemed to be, but she couldn't stop herself from pointing out the near misses and disasters that seemed to lie in wait around every corner.
"Xander thinks a new Babylon 5 plate from the Franklin Mint is important," she answered. She wished the rearview mirror was set properly so she could see if Oz was reacting at all, but in the last few days of routine patrol, she'd rediscovered the fact that Oz rarely got worked up about anything. It was disappointing, but as she thought about it, it was hardly surprising. Werewolf boy couldn't afford to get too pissed about much of anything if he didn't want his friends turning on him at the next full moon.
"Well — yeah, he does. But this sounded — OLD MAN!" Willow pushed her right foot into the floor of the car in a fruitless attempt to make it stop.
"Yes, Willow. I see the old man creeping across the intersection," she said, braking hard enough to make the tires screech against the pavement. The sudden noise wasn't enough to faze the pedestrian. He just continued his slow walk to the other side of the street without once looking around. "And now that the vampire bait is safely across the street, why don't you explain just what it was about Xander that sounded so different from the time he announced he was getting that stupid comic book."
"Gotta interrupt here," Oz said from the back. "That was a rare issue. He had every reason to be excited, considering how low the price was."
"Yeah. And if I recall correctly, the price was so low because the owner was collecting brains for his demon overlord," Cordelia answered. "Face it. Xander's idea of what's important doesn't match any known logic in the universe."
Grasping at the chance to defend Xander rather than worrying about Cordelia's driving and her personal chance of surviving it, Willow said, "Okay, so he's not so good at thinking things through sometimes, but he got the comic, and he was able to sell it for a hundred dollars on e-Bay."
"And if he'd done what I told him to do," she responded, "he could have gotten four times as much down in L.A. Admit it, Willow. Xander will never score big in high finance."
"Then why do you date him?" The question was equal parts curiosity and exasperation, and Cordelia would have preferred any question but that one. Especially since it meant Willow wasn't paying attention to her driving anymore.
She sighed before saying, "Because."
"Because why?"
Cordelia wanted to damn Willow for her persistence, but Oz, who was way more talkative than usual, said, "Kind of curious myself."
'Great. I'm driving — badly — and all they want to do is have an encounter session,' she thought, searching desperately for the turn-off into Giles' neighborhood. Unfortunately, it was still at least a half-mile off, which meant she couldn't really avoid the question without looking like she was avoiding the question.
Another sigh and then, "He gets to me."
Willow twisted around in her seat to face Cordelia and, after a quick glance at Oz, said, "How?"
She clenched her jaw, reminding herself not to grind her teeth. She also reminded herself that none of the Scoobys seemed to get the concept of minding their own business. They all seemed perfectly comfortable commenting on each other's life. Rather than get specific, she said, "You know how."
From the back, "Not really."
"I know you guys are pretty heavy into the whole lip-lock thing," Willow said, her speaking rhythm signaling an impending babble-fest, "but there's got to be more to it than that, right?"
'I'm in hell,' Cordelia thought as she suddenly regretted tormenting Willow with her driving. 'I'm in absolute hell.' Aloud, she said, "I'm in hell. I'm in absolute hell. I can't believe I'm being interrogated by Miss Geek of 1998 and her boyfriend, Sunnydale's answer to 'I Was a Teenage Werewolf.'"
"Well, you are on the Hellmouth," Oz said, unperturbed by Cordelia's outburst. He'd heard her say far worse and was inclined to think that she was going kind of easy on them.
"Duh!" Cordelia dragged out the vowel just a hair longer than she needed to in a desperate attempt to stall for time. She also increased her speed a bit, hoping against hope that they would arrive at Giles' place soon enough for her to avoid entirely the troublesome question of just why she was dating one Alexander Lavelle Harris, loser extraordinaire.
In a quiet voice, one filled with a sense of intense curiosity, Willow said, "Is he really that good a kisser?"
Cordelia's sense of relief at Willow veering away from a dangerous guess was almost enough to make her take pity on her.
Almost.
She made an unnecessarily hard swerve around a set of cones surrounding a sewer cover and savored Willow's yelp of surprise before answering, "Yes. He's a really good kisser. Are we done now? Because I'm still trying to figure out why you seem to think that anything he could have to say would be important."
Stammering a bit as she tried to catch her breath from the near-miss, Willow said, "You didn't hear him. He sounded — off — when he said we should get there."
"Off?" Cordelia damned the fine tremor she heard in her voice. Just because she wasn't willing to tell the whole world about it didn't meant that Xander wasn't important to her. She'd been perfectly truthful when she told Willow that he got to her. He did. As pathetic as he could be at times, Xander was able to stand up to her like none of her other boyfriends ever had. At times, she wanted to smack him for being able to match her will with his own. At other times, it was all she could do not to drag him into a convenient closet for some uninterrupted necking.
"Yeah. Like he just heard something. I think it's about Buffy," Willow answered, her voice noticeably trembling.
It was enough to set Cordelia's teeth on edge and to make her indescribably grateful she hadn't been around all summer to hear about their precious Buffy. "Oh," she drawled as she finally reached the turn-off to Giles' place. "It's about Buffy. The Chosen One. The one who ran away leaving just a note for her mother and who hasn't called or written all summer long. Because we're all just really anxious to hear about her, aren't we?"
Miserable, Willow turned in her seat so she was facing front again before saying, "Okay, so she kind of abandoned us. But I'm sure she had a good reason."
"Face it, Willow, she abandoned her sacred duty and left the rest of us here to do her job for her," she said, savoring the opportunity to point out that Buffy wasn't really "all that" after all.
"She didn't! Okay, she did, but I'm telling you she had a really good reason," Willow answered, getting more and more upset.
Cordelia couldn't be sure, but she thought Willow might be a little bit freaked, because for the first time, she was starting to admit to herself that super strength and super speed weren't the only things that went into making a super hero. Sure, Buffy had a lot of the things that made a hero, but what kind of hero just up and left her friends on their own without so much as a letter or a phone call? She was just happy she could be the one to burst that particular bubble. As far as she was concerned. Willow needed to grow up and get over the hero-worship.
'And what kind of Chase am I for even caring about what Willow thinks or feels? Damn you, Xander. I hate it when you get all little-boy-lost on me,' she thought, remembering all too clearly the pain in his voice as he'd brought her up to date on the complete lack of news about the missing Scooby. She, for one, didn't miss Buffy at all. Really. The only possible reason she might have to miss her was the fact that she had to take up her slack on these stupid patrols — patrols Giles hadn't even asked them to handle.
"Fine," she said, her voice clipped as she pulled up in front of Giles' apartment complex with a flourish. "Miss Chosen had a really good reason for leaving you behind to try to do her work. I'm sure I'll be completely floored if I ever get around to hearing it."
"When," Willow snapped, angry that Cordelia wasn't being positive and certain that Buffy would return. "When you get around to hearing it. She's coming back, and I don't want to hear another word from you that makes it sound like she won't." Rather than wait for an answer or even her boyfriend, she released her seat belt and got out of the car as quickly as possible.
Oz got out at a more leisurely pace, keeping an eye on Willow as she stormed through the gate and headed down the steps. "Nice save there," he said, not bothering to look at Cordelia.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she answered, genuinely confused.
"The way you didn't answer Willow's question about Xander. I'm impressed at the way you didn't answer. But I'm also kind of pissed right now," he said. Looking back into the car, he continued, "I don't really care how you feel about Buffy, but I care about how Willow feels. Don't upset her again."
Cordelia swallowed and just nodded. For all his casual tone, something in the way Oz looked at her made made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She made a mental note not to piss him off again without good reason as she slowly got out of the car to follow. She'd already decided she was going to take a more leisurely pace so she wouldn't have to be near everyone, but then she heard Willow's scream.
"Oh crap," she said.
Willow had stormed away from Cordelia's car with every intention of telling Xander that he had to dump her or else. She hadn't quite figured out what the "or else" might mean, especially since she was still having trouble with simple glamours, but even so, she muttered, "I'll do something witchy to him."
She could sort of understand what Cordelia saw in him, even if she didn't understand the reason for her turning her back on the Cordettes. Despite the fact that she was dating Oz, Willow still kind of, sort of had a teeny, tiny little thing for Xander tucked away in a quiet corner of her heart. She'd seen and catalogued his finer qualities for years, hoping that one day he would turn around and notice her at long last. But this thing with Cordelia — it was just wrong. It went completely against the grain for Xander Harris to be involved with the town's rich girl. That sort of thing just didn't happen outside the movies or gloppy soap operas. If she were a better witch, she would be able to do a spell to figure out how to fix this.
She had stomped down the stairs and was about to storm Giles' apartment when the door opened suddenly, and a demon came out at full speed and ran straight into her. They fell to the ground, with Willow on her back and that thing on top of her. She screamed once out of surprise and then again out of fear when the thing's tentacles started touching her. She was struggling to get away even as the thing pinned her wrists to the ground with inhuman strength. Willow whimpered as she looked up into the face of her captor. The scars were horrible, and she closed her eyes tight as she said, "Let go of me!"
"Willow." She cringed when she heard it speak her name. It could only mean that Giles —
Wait. That voice. She knew it. She slowly opened one eye and looked up. The eyes looked familiar, but she couldn't quite place them. Willow stammered out, "Who are you? What have you done with Giles?"
Willow's fear gave way to guilt when she saw how sad the woman — definitely a woman — was. And even though she knew she was being ridiculous, all she wanted to do was comfort the person currently holding her still.
It wasn't until she heard Oz say, "Buffy," that she looked closely at her face.
"Buffy?" Her voice was small. She hoped that Oz was wrong, because if it was Buffy who was pinning her to the flagstones, then Very Bad Things had happened to her while she'd been away.
Willow saw her swallow hard just before she released her wrists sat back on her heels. "Yeah. Buffy." She stood up and stepped away from where Willow still lay.
"Geez, Buffy. I know the life of a runaway is hard, but I think you could've sprung for at least one bottle of conditioner," said Cordelia. She stood a few feet behind Oz, her arms crossed and a frown on her face.
Willow shot a mean look at Cordelia and was ready to say something, but Buffy's short burst of laughter made her look back up. "You know, Cordelia? I'd forgotten that tongue of yours. Glad to see you kept it sharp while I was gone," she said, looking relaxed and amused in a faintly patronizing kind of way.
She was astonished at Cordelia's equally amused response, "Yeah, well. It wasn't easy to do with you off on your little journey of self-discovery. So you went into the wilds and discovered you're some kind of Indian?"
"I think the term is Native American," Oz said absently as he continued to look at Buffy with a slight frown.
"Whatever. So what's with the skin condition, Buffy? I mean, yeah, you're the Slayer and all, but you never used to let yourself go this much. What's the deal?" Willow slowly stood up, amazed that neither Buffy nor Cordelia seemed all that angry. They were just trading barbs but without any hint of real dislike between them.
"No moisturizers in Hell. No conditioner, either." She played with one incredibly long dreadlock and asked, "So you really think my new look is a problem? I figured it would be all the rage next year."
"At the mouth of hell? Not a chance. And where did you get that outfit?" Cordelia approached slowly, sizing Buffy up.
Willow sidled over to Oz, looking for reassurance. This person couldn't possibly be Buffy. She was getting along way too well with Cordelia, and she wasn't even trying to talk to her or Oz. He drew her in close, and she leaned against him gratefully, turning to nuzzle his face, but stopping short when she saw his nose flaring. She was mildly disconcerted when she realized he was catching Buffy's scent.
"Wal-Mart," was the answer, and the look of horror on Cordelia's face was enough to surprise a small laugh out of Willow. She glanced at Oz, and he gave her an encouraging smile.
"Wal-Mart? My god — you really were in Hell!"
to be continued...
