Author's Note:
Here we begin with the crossover. Buffy learns she has a whole different family on the other side of the world, a world she can just begin to imagine...
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Chapter 4
Explanations
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Buffy opened her eyes and glanced around her dimly lit bedroom. It wasn't even sunrise yet. She blinked and sat up, stretching and yawning. Getting to her feet, she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and opened her bedroom door. She tiptoed down the stairs and through the back door in the Kitchen. She sat down on the back porch, pulling the blanket even tighter around her shoulders.
She had had another dream. In her dream, she'd been running through a maze. She'd arrived at the center where a large gold cup stood. The moment she reached for it, it was gone. In its place was a body of a young man with dark hair and green eyes. She blinked her own eyes, which were green with a touch of brown in them.
It had been a frightfully disturbing dream.
As soon as the sun rose, she stood up, savoring her last sunrise in America.
Once the sun was well into the air, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the house. Her mother had returned last night and had gone straight to bed once Buffy had divulged what the Council had said. Faith still wasn't back yet, but Buffy wasn't worried.
She reached for the well-worn folder on the Kitchen table and pulled out the adoption documents. There was a telephone number at the bottom of the page. Reaching for the cordless, she dialed the long distance number. Since it was only eight in the morning there, it had to be at least four in the afternoon in England.
"Hello, welcome to the British Association for Adoption and--"
"Oh, great," Buffy groaned. "A sound recording."
"... Please stay on the line and you will be able to speak to a representative as soon as one is available."
Buffy held for nearly ten minutes before a brisk male voice picked up the line. "Hello, welcome to the B.A.A.F., this is Corey, how can I direct your call?"
"Hi," Buffy said in what she hoped was a friendly voice, "I'm searching for a representative by the name of Laurie Heights."
"One moment," the voice replied before she was put back on hold.
Joyce Summers entered the Kitchen, staring at the back of her daughter's head. She moved quietly over to the tea kettle and set it on the stove. Buffy jumped slightly and gave her mother a slightly guilty look. "Sorry," she mouthed. Joyce gave her a tentative smile and took down two mugs.
Just then, a voice came over the line. "Hello, this is Laurie Heights speaking. How can I help you?"
Buffy's heart stopped beating. For a moment, she was tempted to hang up and forget this number ever existed. But she stopped and instead reached for the paper. It was now or never. "My name is Buffy Summers. I was given up for adoption by your agency eighteen years ago."
"One moment, please," Laurie said, and Buffy could hear her typing in the background. "No, I'm sorry. Your name isn't on our registry."
"Then try Elizabeth Potter," Buffy replied, using her other given name.
There was a stunned gasp on the other line. "That name is on our records."
Buffy bit her lip, thinking hard. "Is there information you can give me over the phone?" she asked, her voice slightly hushed.
"No, nothing really informative, anyway," Laurie replied apologetically. "You really should book a trip and attend a meeting and I can tell you everything you need to know."
"I'm leaving the country this afternoon," Buffy said, struggling to keep control over her own voice. "Could I arrange a meeting tomorrow afternoon?"
"Does three thirty sound all right with you?" Laurie asked. Buffy quickly muttered her consent. "And which name should I put it under so I can tell my secretary?"
"Put it under Elizabeth Potter," Buffy said quietly, making a note on the folder of the time and date. "I will see you in the morning. Thank you."
When she hung up the phone, she felt as though the world had come crashing in on her.
A quiet thunk sounded in front of her. Joyce had set down a mug of tea. Buffy smiled thankfully at her mother and wrapped her shaking hands around the mug.
"The Council dropped this off in our mailbox this morning," Joyce said, handing her daughter another envelope. "I'm pretty certain it contains all of your deportation files and hopefully a plane ticket, because I refuse to pay it."
"Thanks, Mom," Buffy said quietly, opening the envelope. Sure enough, there was a visa inside, issued to Buffy Summers. And there was an identification card inside, also issued to Buffy Summers. The last item was a plane ticket. Buffy was set to leave the airport at twelve fifteen that afternoon. "Oh, God," she said quietly, setting the package aside. "Doesn't this all seem like it's happening a bit fast?"
"Didn't you have that get together with your friends last night?" Joyce asked curiously.
"I did," Buffy assured her. "I managed to say goodbye to everyone the old fashioned way. There were a lot of tears, hugs and sniffles. I think we actually used an entire box of Kleenix."
"How about Angel?" Joyce asked her daughter as Buffy sipped at the tea. "Have you said goodbye to him?"
"I should go do that," Buffy replied, standing up and tucking the blanket under her arm. "I'll be back around ten thirty so we can leave for the airport, okay?"
"You can take my car dear," Joyce said, kissing the top of her daughter's head. "Are you all packed?"
"I have a few bags upstairs I'll take down before I leave," Buffy said, taking her mug and quickly jogging up the stairs. Within fifteen minutes, she was dragging two suitcases and a small duffel downstairs. She set them off near the front door, collected the keys from her mother and ran out into the warm June morning.
The drive to Angel's took all of ten minutes. She knocked, hearing him move about inside. She had a feeling she'd woken him up, but she didn't care. "Come in," his voice echoed from inside and she quickly showed herself in, letting in as little light as she possibly could.
He was gazing at her, only half dressed, his eyes only half open. "Buffy."
"I didn't mean to wake you," she said carefully. "But I just had to say goodbye."
His eyes widened slightly. "Is this what the Council wants of you?"
"I have a whole other life in England now," Buffy replied. "For now I have to worry about that."
"You're being deported," Angel sighed, shaking his head sadly. "Buffy, you know how I feel about you... you know I love--"
"No," she said, cutting him off. "Don't say that. It's too hard to hear you say that. Because I'll believe it. And it'll make leaving even harder than it already is..."
"I'm sorry," he said, stepping over to her and wrapping her in his embrace. As she held his cold body in her arms, she felt strangely comforted. "This isn't for me, either. I feel like I'm losing you all over again."
"Maybe you are," Buffy said, touching his face. "I don't know when I'll be back. But someday I will come back. And when I do..."
"I'll be waiting for you..." he said with a soft smile, kissing her forehead lovingly. "Take care of yourself over there."
"I'll try," she said with a brave grin.
She backed out of the mansion and left. Feeling as though her heart was going to break all over again, she consoled herself on the fact that she and Angel were merely friends. Her heart was not going to break again, because it didn't need to.
Once she arrived back home, Faith had returned and was looking quite depressed. Joyce had obviously told her that the package had arrived and that Buffy was leaving that afternoon. Since it was after ten now, Buffy realized that it was time to say goodbye to the one person who could save the world.
"Faith..."
"B, don't," Faith said, backing away as Buffy reached out to hug her, "I'm no good at this."
"I've had enough practice," Buffy said, slowly lowering her arms. "I don't wanna do this."
"It's not easy for any of us, Buffy," Faith said. "Or do you want us to call you Elizabeth now?"
"I don't know," Buffy said, and for the first time that day, the tears were starting. "Damn it. I don't..."
Faith took a deep breath and hugged Buffy tightly. "I hope you find what you're looking for," she said, before pulling back. "Do you mind if I go with you?"
"Of course not," Buffy said. Faith rose and walked to the door, lifting Buffy's bags and carrying them outside. Joyce held the door open, tears in her own eyes.
"I never thought you two would get along so well," Joyce said thoughtfully.
"I think I've given her exactly what she needed," Buffy replied, taking her mother's wrist for a moment. "You'll look after her, won't you?"
"Of course I will," Joyce said, glancing at her daughter in concern.
"Because I don't know when I'll be coming back," Buffy admitted.
"I know in my heart that you will come back someday," Joyce said as she and Buffy left the house behind. "We've only been here nearly three years, and yet... it feels like home."
Buffy got into the backseat, preferring Faith to take passenger. She took one last lingering look at the house on Rodello Drive. And then, as Joyce pulled the Jeep into the street, she could see it better, and she committed it to memory.
When they arrived at the airport, Buffy got a huge surprise. Giles and the others were standing in front of the security gate. Xander was holding up a large poster and Willow was waving a tiny flag. "Surprise!"
Buffy walked forward, almost daring to believe what she was seeing. "You guys... you did this for me?"
"I didn't want to," Cordelia replied, quickly hugging her, "but you are marginally cool. And it does suck you're being forced to go to a land of many Gileses."
Buffy released her and turned to Xander, who hugged her tight. "When we can afford it, Wil and I are going to come and rescue you," he vowed.
"That's sweet," Buffy said with a nod. "Strange, but sweet." She quickly hugged him before turning to Willow, who took a few tentative steps forward. "God, Wil..."
"I know," Willow said, blinking away her own tears.
"We did this last night," Buffy said, unwilling to start crying again. She knew it was ridiculous to think she'd ever be weak in the eyes of her friends, but she sniffled loudly nonetheless. Wordlessly, she and Willow hugged.
"What Xander and I said is true, Buff. We'll be seeing you soon," Willow promised.
That left Giles. Buffy stared at him a long time, her eyes never leaving his face. "Thank you," she finally managed. He smiled at her, and that was that.
Buffy turned to Faith. "Watch your back," she said, hugging her for the last time, "not to mention theirs... okay?"
"I promise," Faith laughed, holding up her hands. "Just go. I don't want the Council to assassinate your ass because you couldn't haul it through Security."
Buffy turned to her mother at last. "Are you going to tell Dad?"
Joyce nodded. "I was planning on calling him this afternoon. Don't worry Buffy..." Buffy turned slightly, watching as her luggage was carried away before grabbing her purse and her duffel.
"Mom?" she asked, turning one last time to look at Joyce.
"We're going to find a way to bring you home, dear," Joyce said, tears sparkling in her eyes. "I promise we'll find a way."
"I know you will," Buffy said with a shaky smile as she turned and walked to stand in the Security line.
Once she was out of sight, everyone let out a long, pent-up breath.
"Well, I'd best be getting home. I need to call Hank," Joyce said, running a tired hand through her hair. Faith decided to return with her. Willow and Xander were going to over to Oz's. And Giles had a lot of things to do at home.
But he held back, watching finally as a plane en route to New York took off. He watched it soar away, feeling as though a piece of him had been ripped away along with it.
- - - - -
It was three o'clock the following afternoon. Buffy paid her cab fare and left the taxi behind, staring at a large building, labeled the British Association for Adoption and Fostering. She walked timidly to the door and opened it, stepping inside.
It had been a long flight from California, Buffy thought. She'd managed to get some sleep, but it was quickly disturbed by some of the most awkward dreams she'd had yet. It involved the golden cup and the dead body again, but also a flying broomstick and a bunch of floating balls in various colors. It was strange to even begin to comprehend, so she didn't even bother.
After she'd arrived in England, one of the Watchers had turned up. He had given her information and cab fare to a hotel near the adoption agency. Once again, the Watchers were a step above everything. But the one thing they didn't seem to know was her adopted name. The Watcher had stayed in the car with her and then had carried her luggage to her hotel room. Once inside, she hadn't been surprised to see Quentin Travers waiting for her, rather impatiently, a glass of single-malt scotch in his hand.
"Miss Summers," he greeted coldly as she set down her bags.
"This is just great," she moaned, rolling her eyes.
"I'm glad to see you've arrived at your homeland," Quentin replied, tipping a bit of the scotch into his mouth. "You'll be pleased to note we've set you up at this hotel until you meet with your adoption agency."
"How did you know I was going to--"
"Please, Miss Summers," he said, holding up a pale hand. "You insult our intelligence. We knew that once you received your package you would contact the Association. While we do not yet know of what the package did contain, it was wrapped in a folder with the name of the company on it."
Buffy seemed stunned. "Ah ha," she whispered. "So you know that I'm going to an Adoption agency but you have no idea why?"
"We know you've been adopted, Buffy," Quentin replied, setting his empty glass aside. "But we do not yet know who your parents were."
Buffy grinned, sitting on her bed. "I cannot believe this. You deport me to England and now you are going to leave me here in this gorgeous room with a bottle of your finest scotch and I'll deal with my agency. After all, I only have two hours before my meeting."
Quentin checked the clock on the wall with the faintest flicker of his eyes. "Very well. Donaldson will accompany you."
"No," Buffy said, stomping down her foot. "No way in Hell! Did you hear me? I quit the Council. You have no bleeding right to interfere with my life!"
Quentin could see that the Slayer was frustrated. "You have may have stopped caring about our function, Miss Summers, but we are far from ignoring your own. Your safety is at risk in a country you know nothing about. For now, you will be accompanied by a fully-qualified Watcher--"
"If you're talking about qualifications," Buffy sneered, "let's talk about Wesley Windham-Pryce. That man is a moron."
"He is a fully qualified Watcher," Quentin said, his voice cutting back into hers.
"I will not have your men stalking me around this city," Buffy snapped, getting back to the point. "If you want to try and run my life, that's fine. That's brilliant. But this is just a little warning. If I find that you have interfered in any of my business, I will kill you. And that is my promise."
Quentin gazed at his glass before standing up. He motioned for the other two Watchers in the room to leave. "We will respect your wishes, Miss Summers. But if you attempt to return to America, I will personally see that you will never be a free woman again."
"Do I look like I'm afraid to you?" Buffy asked sharply.
"I do believe that you are now playing on my turf," Quentin said, an air of smugness in his voice. "After all, you lost the battle. We're about to win the war."
"I had no idea we were at war," Buffy said bitterly, crossing her arms. "Now get the hell out of my room."
He left, closing the door sharply behind her.
That had been maybe two hours before, Buffy thought as she stepped up to the reception desk. Glancing around to make sure that no one from the Council had followed her, she bent down to the man. "I have an appointment with Laurie Heights for three thirty. Can you let her know I'm here now and see if she can't squeeze me in a little early?"
"Of course," the man said with a crisp French accent, turning and lifting the telephone receiver. After a brief conversation, he turned back to her. "She said she will see you now. Fourth floor, room four two three. It should be the sixth door on your left."
"Thank you," Buffy said. She hitched her purse higher on her shoulder and moved to a bank of elevators. After riding up to the fourth floor, she exited and made her way down to Laurie's office. She found herself in another reception area, one without any people and it was oddly quiet.
The door to the far office opened and she saw herself staring at a tall redhead. The woman was reading a paper and had a large mug in her hand. Hearing a noise in front of her, she glanced up and spied Buffy. "You must be Elizabeth Potter," she said, without blinking. She returned to her office, holding the door open. "Come on in, come on in..."
Buffy walked in and sat in a plush red chair on the other side of the woman's glass-top desk. Laurie surveyed her a moment. "Do you have any identification with you?"
Buffy reached into her purse and pulled our her driver's license, which had her regular name on it. The birth certificate was next, along with the official document of adoption, both the copy in the folder and the one her mother had had. Laurie gazed at it before handing it back to her. "I guess it's really you," she said quietly.
"What can you tell me about my family?" Buffy asked, anxiously.
"I made a point of printing up everything I could find on our server," Laurie said, handing her another folder. "I also did some research on the net. It seems as though the Potter family didn't exist. At least, part of it didn't."
Buffy began to flip through the contents of the folder. "I don't have the patience for this right now," Buffy said, closing the folder and glancing up again. "Can you tell me where I can find my parents?"
"I can't," Laurie said, her voice turning apologetic. "I'm afraid to say that your birth parents are dead."
Something dropped in Buffy's stomach. Her birth parents, the ones that the Council was so eager to reunite her with... dead? "What?" she whispered. "How? When?"
"Your parents were found in a wreckage of a house not to far from here," Laurie said, taking back Buffy's folder. She flipped through it before she removed a bit of newspaper and handed it to her. "The police investigated the death and it was eventually ruled that they died naturally. The fire must have started at a later point in time."
Buffy could hear her heart beating very quickly as she quickly read through the clipping. "So that's it?" she asked, trying to hold the tears in. "That's my family? A bunch of dead people?"
"Not quite," Laurie said, pulling out a second clipping. "This image was taken last summer in front of a house on Privet Drive in Surrey. It belongs to a Vernon Dursley. His wife, Petunia, was related to your Mother. In fact, I think they were sisters."
"I have an aunt and uncle," Buffy said quietly, holding the picture in her hands. It was then she noticed the boy in the photograph. He was behind the car and it looked as though he were weeding the plants in front of the house. "Who is that?"
"That," Laurie said, handing her a second clipping, "would be your brother, Harry."
"What?" Buffy gasped, eyeing the photograph. It was a secondary photograph, no doubt taken from the newspaper that had produced the article in the first place. The boy was closer to the camera now. It looked as though the heavyset man who Laurie had told her was his uncle was yelling at him. The boy wasn't cowering, but he was sloshing the water from the bucket onto his clothes.
She bit her lip. "His name is Harry, did you say?"
"There's more about him in here," the woman said, patting the folder and returning it to Buffy. "I'm sure that everything you want answered will be answered in there."
"You didn't tell me," Buffy said quickly, "when my parents died, I mean."
"Oh," Laurie said, leaning back in her chair, reaching for her coffee cup. "It was fifteen years ago, Elizabeth. Or would you rather I call you Buffy? It seems you have legal documents in both names."
"I used to be Buffy," she said sadly, staring at the photograph of her brother enduring an uncle's abuse. "I was Buffy when I only had a mother or the woman I thought was my mother. I became Elizabeth the day the Council turned my life upside down. I think it's best if I try to find out who Elizabeth is before Buffy dies completely."
Laurie gave her a sympathetic smile. "Are there any other questions you'd like to ask?"
"Just one," Buffy said quietly. "Did you meet my mother? My real mother?"
"I was only a first-year employee back then," Laurie replied with a sigh. "I met both Lily Evans and Joyce Summers."
"Evans?" Buffy asked, a question mark in her voice. "I thought you said--"
"The document was changed when she was married to James Potter," Laurie said quickly. "Her maiden name was Evans."
"Right," Buffy said, tucking the photographs inside the folder. "But... you met her?"
"I did," Laurie said, carefully watching for a reaction in the younger woman's sad face. "She was very sad but I could tell that she loved you. It was the hardest decision of her life to give you up. She told me so, eighteen years ago. I asked her if she had any reasons and she said it would be for your protection. Something bad was happening to her and I don't know what it is or what it was... or even if it has gone away. All I know is that your mother was a very gentle and kind woman. She's the kind of woman I could respect because even at seventeen she was so brave."
"My mother was only seventeen when she had me?" Buffy gasped in disbelief, turning almost desperately to the folder. "I suppose I'll find that stuff in here too."
"A few more things before you go," Laurie said before Buffy could stand up and leave. "Inside the folder I've put the address to Harry's current residence. He apparently attends a school for the Criminally Active boys for nine months out of the year and is rarely home except during summer holidays. I've also included a few other addresses I've found around the net. One of them is for an inn outside the train station in London. Another was the house where your parents bodies were found."
"Thank you for your help," Buffy said as she stood up on weak legs.
"You're welcome," Laurie said, smiling as Buffy left the office. "And good luck."
Buffy returned to her hotel quickly, eager to read through the papers. Before going up to her room, she decided to ask the front desk if they had any other rooms available. After being moved to a second room, Buffy quickly pulled out a few toiletries and showered. Before she went to bed, even though it was only five, she sat down and glanced at the folder.
She opened it, revealing the two pictures. She leaned over and pulled the faded image of Lily Potter from her bag. There was no comparison for it. The boy that Laurie had said was her brother looked a lot like Lily in the eyes. Buffy knew that her eyes were similar to Lily's, but with the brown in them, Buffy knew she must have a trait of her father's.
Her aunt and uncle really looked like unpleasant people. Her aunt was tall and very thin, with a pale face and elongated front teeth that made her smile appear out of place in front of such a fine house. Her husband was larger, with a thick, bushy mustache. His eyes were small and steely, showing a fierce determination, especially in the non-publicized photograph of him threatening Harry.
He was threatening her brother.
A wash of cold, hard rage overcame her and her hands started to shake.
Her parents may be dead... their parents may be dead... but there was no way she was going to let her younger brother suffer the same fate under the hands of abuse.
But, Buffy reminded herself, this could have been her life, too.
There was another figure in the picture. He was very wide, with blonde hair quite like her own. She wondered if someone on the Evans side had blonde hair. That must've been where it had come from.
She set the images aside and lifted the newspaper recounting the wreckage of a house. In a second, smaller picture, it showed paramedics lifting two body bags onto a stretcher. Feeling nauseous, she quickly turned the paper over and reached for the next document.
Before she knew it, it was well after midnight. She'd gone through nearly the entire folder. Most of it was bits and pieces about the Potter and Evans family. There were a few things on Harry, but not nearly enough. She sighed in frustration and lifted her eyes, stretching out the kinks in her neck. She was beginning to wish that Quentin Travers had left his good scotch behind.
She pulled out the last bundle of documents and was surprised that they'd been printed from a website. There were long posts from message boards, many of them celebrating an event nearly fifteen years in the past. With a slight frown, she began to flip through the pages until she noted a particular phrase that was repeated over and over again.
"The boy who lived?" she asked in confusion. "I wonder what that's about..."
- - - - -
Reviewee's Note:
I think the review system broke. I nearly had a heart attack Friday when I saw I had 40 reviews. It was kind of funny that over half of them were the same review. And to comment on all of those pretty reviews, I know it isn't legally possible, but it just seems like something that stupid Council would actually do. They threatened Giles with it back in "Checkpoint", so heh. As for making the story B/A... um... hehehe. I'm not going to promise anything. I'm a HUGE B/A fan and it is SO tempting... but... not now. I'll give whoever duplicates another 20 reviews a dozen extra yummy cookies (it's way too much fun baking with my goddaughters).
I'm glad you like what I did with Faith. I do have a plan for her in this fic so she doesn't factor into it. I'm not the biggest Faith fan. In fact, at times I cannot stand her. But I wanted to give her a chance to bloom without being forced under Buffy's shadow. Being the ONLY Slayer is the best way.
Oh, and the Council will get what's coming to them... I promise. :) I'm going to try and speed things up a bit. I don't want this to get overly angsty, because... it's where it's headed.
Other stories'll be updated in the morning!