The next few moments were—hard. That was an understatement. Joyce had been baffled and then horrified and outraged. Buffy had suggested they go home so they could discuss it quietly and she had at last conceded. Somehow she knew this was going to be a long story, one requiring a lot of explanations from her daughter and enormous patience on her part.
The others had asked to accompany them home. Buffy had protested but Giles had reasoned her mother would need their input in order to understand the complete story. She drove Buffy home in her car while the others piled into Mr. Giles's vehicle.
Buffy kept shooting her nervous glances from across the passenger seat. She couldn't remember ever seeing her mother so grim and silent. Even the divorce hadn't merited such non-communication. Her mom had weathered that with a forcefully cheery disposition although that hadn't prevented Buffy from hearing the muffled sobs from her mother's room late at night when she thought she couldn't hear. She was secretly glad the others would be there to back her up but dreaded hearing what her mother would say.
Mrs. Summers seated everyone in the living room and asked if anybody wanted something to eat. That nice boy Alexander had piped up saying he wanted hot chocolate and the others quickly chimed in. Giles had asked wistfully if she had tea on hand and been delightfully surprised when she replied in the affirmative.
Seeing to everybody's comfort helped to settle Joyce somewhat. It didn't hurt that she was in her own home. One was always more at ease in familiar surroundings, after all. She had the feeling she would need all the moral support she could muster.
Mr. Giles made a show of cleaning his glasses after polishing off his tea and cleared his throat. "W-well, Mrs. Summers, your daughter is, as she told you, a Vampire Slayer. What that means precisely—"
"—Is that she slays vampires. Got that one, Mr. Giles," she responded.
"I'm afraid there's a great deal more to it than that, Mrs. Summers," he remarked with some asperity. "There are other non-human life forms out there, many far more deadly than vampires. The history of the Slayer is such that she must be prepared to fight them all whenever and wherever they appear."
"History? This thing has a history?" Joyce looked around at each person.
"Here we go," Xander muttered. Willow nudged him with her elbow.
Giles straightened slightly and recited what he had been told when he was first informed of his sacred duty. "There is one girl born in all the world to fight the demons, to kill the vampires. She and she alone will stand against the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer."
Joyce stared at Mr. Giles. Then she snorted and finally burst out laughing. "Oh goodness. That's quite a speech, Mr. Giles. Do they make you rehearse that at vampire slaying school or something?"
"Probably," Xander said. Willow glared and nudged him again. "Ow! What's with the poking?"
Giles was quite miffed she didn't take this seriously. "I assure you, madam, there's more to being a Slayer than speeches no matter how pompous they may sound. The matter is a grave one and I'd appreciate it if you understood that right from the start."
Mrs. Summers choked back her laughter. "I'm sorry, Mr. Giles. It's just—it's been a long night and nothing has turned out like I expected. Now you tell me my daughter is part of a long line of fighters with a sacred birthright as if she were royalty. You have to admit it's a little on the ridiculous side."
"It is quite a lot to swallow. This is why Slayers are usually taken away from their parents and isolated. It spares difficulties and misunderstandings," Giles stated.
At these words, Joyce's lips thinned. "Somebody's going to take my daughter away?"
"No, madam. Assuredly not," Giles said hastily. "That is what is commonly done. However, I realized from the beginning that Buffy is no ordinary girl and the usual method of dealing with Slayers wouldn't be of use with her. Her first Watcher came to her late—"
"Her first what?" Joyce interrupted.
"Mrs. Summers, there exists an ancient order called the Watchers Council. It is their job to educate themselves, seek out and train each Slayer that exists in the world. Potential girls are observed and, whenever possible, taken from their homes to be trained in their duties should they be chosen. Due to an oversight, Buffy was missed until she was well advanced in years. Then her Watcher Mr. Merrick came to her. Unfortunately, he was killed while she was up against Lothos…a particularly old and vicious vampire," he explained in response to Joyce's questioning stare.
"When was this?" she asked Buffy.
"This was in Los Angeles, just after the divorce. That was when I, uh, burned down the school," she finished in a barely audible mutter.
"Oh, so THAT'S what that was about!" Joyce exclaimed. "I thought it was faulty wiring!" She gave her daughter a narrow stare. "And that's what you've been doing since you got here in Sunnydale?"
Buffy heaved a sigh, partly of resignation and relief her mother finally knew the truth. "That's right, Mom. Giles tagged me as his Slayer the first day I came to Sunnydale High."
"How did you know Buffy was a…Slayer?" Joyce stumbled over the term. Buffy was just Buffy to her. She couldn't think of her daughter as a mystical fighter no matter what Mr. Giles said.
"Yeah, I'd be interested in knowing that myself, G-man," Xander asked. "I found out 'cause I was looking for a book in the library stacks and overheard you talking to Buffy about it. But I'd like to know how you picked Buffy out of the crowd as a wannabe Xena."
"Well, the Council has ways of learning who the next Slayer is. Mr. Merrick was given Buffy as his charge and was making his regular reports to us on her progress. When these reports stopped, agents were dispatched who learned of his death after his body was found. Buffy's subsequent move to Sunnydale was carefully noted and I was sent here to be head librarian and her next Watcher and await her arrival."
"You were sent here? So your job is to look out for my daughter?" Joyce asked.
"The job, as you put it, requires a little more than that. But, yes, a Watcher must train and prepare the Slayer for the dangers she will invariably encounter in the field. Tonight was one such case."
The older woman rested her cup on the living room table. "What was so special about tonight?"
"Well, nothing, really. We expected these vamps to attack us on the Feast of St. Vigius. That was gonna be this Saturday. But for some reason they came two days early. Do you think they set their alarm clocks wrong or something?" Willow asked Giles.
"The Feast of Saint Who?" Joyce couldn't recall any saint of that name and searched through her mental archives as to whether she'd ever seen him in a painting.
"Yeah, never heard of him either." Buffy shrugged. "So either the vamps got antsy and couldn't wait or somebody screwed up the calendar." She smiled sweetly at her Watcher who got decidedly huffy.
"I assure you, Buffy, I studied the signs and texts very carefully. And you yourself told me that vampire you met in the alley swore you were going to die on Saturday. Did that sound like an idle boast to you when he said it?"
"No, he sounded pretty cocksure of himself all right. But that was before he met my mom," Buffy grinned.
Giles blinked. Then he put two and two together. "Good Lord. Are you telling me that Spike was the vampire your mother killed?"
Buffy mentally slapped herself. "Oh yeah. Did I forget to mention that?"
Willow and Xander looked at Mrs. Summers with an awe she didn't really understand. Okay, she got that vampires were dangerous. If the real ones were anything like the creatures she'd seen in movies, then naturally they were formidable creatures. But what was so different about the one she'd axed? "Will somebody clue me in? Who or what was Spike?"
"Spike, Mrs. Summers, was a vampire of particular infamy among the Watchers Council. He had existed for over 120 years. He was not one of the oldest vampires by any means but he was one of the more vicious. In his time he encountered and killed two Slayers."
A profound silence fell over the room. Joyce was stunned. The monster she had killed this evening had murdered two girls like Buffy? He had been that deadly—and she'd just charged up and attacked him as if he'd been an ordinary thug. "Oh. Oh dear. I-I think I need to sit down."
"You are sitting down, Mom."
"Good. That was a short trip." She fluttered her hands and then clenched them tightly together. "So when he went after Buffy…"
"He was trying to make her the number three notch on his belt," Xander finished.
Her expression hardened and in a second the fear fell away. "Then I'm glad I killed him." She turned towards her daughter. "Buffy, are those the kind of things you have to go after?"
"Every night, Mom. Vampires are being created every single day and they rise every night. Not just in Sunnydale but all over the world. We just have the bad luck of being on the Hellmouth so I have to take care of them here."
"You do this every night? How do you manage to take care of schoolwork?" Joyce paused. "And we're living on a what?!"
Giles decided to field this one. "A Hellmouth. When the Spanish originally settled here, they called this place Boca del Inferno. They probably changed the name because they felt it kept away potential settlers."
"I don't know. Death Valley isn't what you'd called a friendly little phrase but it draws tourists every year," Xander said.
"Yeah, but nobody wants to live there, Xander," Willow pointed out.
Joyce sagged back in her chair and rubbed her temples tiredly. She wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and put this nightmarish evening behind her. But first she had to appeal to her daughter. "Buffy, I don't know how you've been doing this since you came here. But you're still my child. I know you like the things that other teenaged girls your age like. You were hoping tonight would go smoothly just as I did and those creatures must have messed things up terribly. If this vampire was coming after you because you're this mystical fighter, then two people are dead tonight because of it. You can't possibly like being a Slayer. Couldn't you just…give it up?"
Buffy hesitated. She had to admit her mother had a point. Two people were dead tonight and, in a way, it was her fault. But the role of Slayer had nothing to do with liking. It wasn't a job she could just quit because the hours stank and the pay was non-existent. Buffy had to make her mother see how important this was.
"Mom, I didn't want to be a Slayer. I thought Merrick was a dirty old creep when I met him and I hated the idea of a duty that would make me lose my friends. Sure, after you divorced Dad and I burned down the school and got transferred here, I hoped things would be different. But the first week I was here Willow got threatened by a vampire and Xander's friend was turned into one. So I realized one way or the other, I was going to lose people I cared about and that I'd lose more of them if I didn't do something. All the things that go bump in the night aren't going to disappear just because I don't like my job. You said it yourself. Spike came after me because I'm a Slayer and giving up on slaying won't make me less of one or less of a prize for things like him. If I stop fighting, stop training, I'll become flabby and weak and an even easier target. Like it or not, Mom, I'm a Slayer for life."
Giles added his own feelings on the matter. "Mrs. Summers, slaying isn't a job any more than being a Watcher is. Your daughter has a sacred birthright…"
"Not helping, Giles," Buffy mumbled when she saw the mutinous gleam in her mother's eye.
"But couldn't you get another girl to take up this, this, position?" Sacred calling be damned. If there was any way her daughter was getting out of this, Joyce was going to find it.
There was another uncomfortable silence and Mr. Giles's eyes shifted from hers. "Un-unfortunately, Mrs. Summers, another Slayer cannot take Buffy's place. There is only one born in every generation."
"But you mentioned other girls being trained," Joyce probed.
"Those are potential Slayers. When an actual Slayer is chosen, it is done by an unknown process we Watchers have never been able to fathom. The superior strength, swift healing and supernatural quickness of a true Slayer is given to one girl and one girl only at a time. Otherwise, we could raise an army of such females. I'm afraid that Buffy is it."
Joyce was fed up with this man's autocratic behavior. It was obvious he didn't have children otherwise he wouldn't talk so callously about hers being forced into this deadly trade. "Then forget it. Find another girl. Choose another girl. Find the next one on your magical list or whatever and choose her."
Giles sighed and paused, mentally rallying himself. This was why Slayers were removed from their families. Most parents would refuse to part willingly with their child especially when it meant the poor girl might die an early death. Explaining to any parent the need for surrendering a seemingly helpless girl for a life of hardship and violent demise would be beyond anybody no matter how glib a speaker. "Another girl cannot be chosen. Not until Buffy…" He stopped and a weary look appeared in his eyes.
"Until Buffy what? What does Buffy have to do?" Joyce's gaze darted from one person to the other and noted uneasily how they all avoided looking at her.
Buffy alone held her mother's eye. This was going to be the hard part, the one her mother wouldn't stand for. "The next Slayer gets picked when the current one dies. That's the way it is, Mom." She didn't mention the fact that she had died once already. Her mother had been given enough information for one night. Hearing that would make her absolutely freak.
"Y-you have to die for another to be chosen?" Buffy nodded and Joyce felt all hope die within her. "Oh my god. So when you were chosen, it's because the girl before you was killed."
Giles spoke as gently as he could to the distraught woman. "That is correct, Mrs. Summers." Giles sympathized with her plight. He couldn't imagine how dreadful it must be to know your only child was picked for such a terrible ordeal, one that would assuredly result in her early death. Mrs. Summers had handled things well up until now. But this had to be terrible news.
Joyce looked at all of them. They all looked unhappy…except for Buffy. She was so calm by comparison. Any worry in her hazel eyes seemed to be all for her. How could Buffy be so accepting, knowing that she was going to die young? Then Joyce came to a decision. Her daughter wasn't going to die if she could help it. She'd taken down that monster that would have killed her child and she'd fight any other beast that dared assault Buffy. No one messed with Joyce Summers; her ex-husband could have told them that.
She had been silent for a long time and Buffy was starting to get worried. "Mom? I know this is a lot to take in. A-are you okay? I mean, with all this?"
She sighed and met her daughter's concerned gaze. "No, Buffy, I'm not okay with this. No mother in her right mind would be okay with this. But you seem to have all this under control and you have Mr. Giles and your friends backing you up." She glanced around at the others. "What do your parents have to say about this?"
"Um, well, my folks…kinda not the type I share my deep, dark secrets with, Mrs. Summers," Xander said.
"And my mom and dad are usually too wrapped up in their latest scholarly thesis to pay much attention to what I do. Although my mother might make some speech about the importance of mythological archetype in the modern world if I mentioned vampires, I'm not sure if she would grasp the part about Slayers. She still calls Buffy Bunny," Willow added.
"Mom, I know this all sounds crazy and it's a lot to throw at you. I'd like you to be onboard with this. But I have to tell you I'm going to keep slaying whether you approve or not. I have to," Buffy said, trying to muster every bit of self-confidence in her tone.
"I realize that, dear." Joyce regarded her daughter steadily for a moment and then smiled to herself.
"What? What is it, Mom?"
"I was just thinking this is how Joan of Arc's mother must have felt when her daughter started hearing voices telling her to go have a chat with the king of France," Joyce replied ruefully.
"Except Buffy doesn't hear voices. Unless that's a Slayer gift I haven't heard about. Buffy?" Xander asked with raised eyebrows.
"No, I don't hear voices, Xander. But I do get wacky, Surround Sound prophety dreams. Do those count as voices, Giles?"
"Of course, Buffy. All Slayers receive such dreams," Giles answered.
Her mother flung her a worried glance. "Dreams? You get prophetic dreams? Is that why you used to wake up screaming?"
"Yes, sometimes. Except for that one time I dreamt I was being chased by a giant version of John Tesh and he was forcing me to listen to bagpipe music. I don't know what that was about," Buffy quipped.
Her mother smiled wanly at her joke. "So, except for that Spike creep, do you have to worry about any other special kind of demons?"
"Not for the time being, Mom." Buffy scowled at Giles when it seemed he was about to speak and the Englishman subsided. "Spike was the only really big nasty in the picture."
Her mother visibly relaxed. "Good. Then I think we've covered everything." As everybody stood to leave, she walked over to her daughter. "Just one more thing, Buffy. I know you've been hiding this from me. But I don't want you to hide this any longer. Whatever happens regarding this Slayer…business, I want to know from now on. I may be only an ordinary, humble human being but I'm your mother. If you can bring your friends into this, you can certainly make room for me."
"All right, Mom. But when things get really hairy don't say you weren't warned." Buffy waved the rest of her friends out of the house and shut the door behind them.
Willow, Xander and Giles walked down the walkway, glancing back every now and then at the lit windows of the house on Revello Street. Xander remarked, "I gotta say, she's one okay Mom."
"Yeah. She was so cool about everything. I mean, once the yelling, shaking and wigging was over," Willow ventured.
"She is a truly remarkable woman. I can't think of too many females who would accept this quite as well as she," Giles added. "I can see where Buffy gets her great spirit."
"Don't you think we should have told her about Angel, though? Sooner or later she's gonna find out her daughter's dating one of the undead. That's not gonna sit well with her. I vote I tell her the next time we get together. Who's with me?" He raised his hand.
Willow frowned. Xander was her best friend but sometimes he could be a real jerk. "That's not our secret to tell, Xander. Leave that to Buffy."
"Whatever." He turned towards Giles. "So you think we put the kibosh on the whole Feast of St. Vegetables or can we expect a rematch come Saturday night?"
"With their leader gone, I doubt whether the vampires will make another major incursion against the Slayer anytime soon. I'll warn Buffy to be on her guard, however."
The Anointed One glared at his returning minions. A lot of them were the worse for wear, all babbling about having gotten their asses kicked by the Slayer. Some had left merely because the police had finally arrived on the scene. The only good news was that the bragging idiot with the bad hair seemed to have been dusted. Guess some good had come out of the whole evening after all.
"Boss? What do we do about her?" The minion jerked his thumb over his shoulder and the boy-turned-vampire squinted in the indicated direction.
"They've done for him. My poor boy speaks to the stars. He won't dance and pull the daffodils with his princess any more. No more tea parties for him. All the dollies will be so sad." The skinny, crazed brunette—what was her name? Drusilla?—was rocking back and forth clutching one of her stupid dolls. She'd started that some time ago even before the minions had arrived with the bad news. Somehow she'd known her boyfriend wasn't coming back. If the Anointed One had cared, he might have given a thought as to how that could be. But as it was the girl's whining just got on his nerves.
Honestly, he'd never understood the point of girls, before or after he'd been turned. The only one he'd ever met who was worth bothering about was that Slayer. He'd thought Darla was weak for obsessing about her Angelus and the Master stupid for flying into a tantrum when Darla had been destroyed. That Spike jerk had been equally moony over this dumb girl; no wonder he'd gotten dusted his first time out.
Well, he wasn't going to make the same mistake. "Get rid of her," he intoned in his unnaturally deepened voice.
The minion nodded and walked over to the weakened brunette. Apparently insensible or uncaring of the danger, she continued to rock even as he placed his hands around her throat. One sharp twist and tug and her keening was abruptly cut short. The vampire swept the dust from his hands and turned towards the little boy perched on his throne.
"So, boss. Whaddaya want to do tomorrow night?"
TBC