Act II
"Consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, Frank," Buffy said as she pinned the ticket up. "I need an SOS for table three."
"You're kidding, right?"
"Chipped beef. Gross, but not kidding."
A grunt came from the cook as Buffy turned back to look over the diner. "Hey, who's the new guy?"
"Oh, he's one of Oma's pet projects. Oddly enough, he's from your world."
"Earth?"
"Yeah. But she's breaking the rules helping him. I'd keep clear," Frank said, as he put up the plate on the window.
Buffy grinned, taking the order over to the silent young lady at table three, and then turned to watch the new guy.
"Menus?" he asked, seeming more than a little out of place.
"We don't need them here. Just order what you'd like," Oma replied.
"OK, I'll have the truth, with a side order of clarity, please."
"The Replicator version of Sam was in your head trying to access the knowledge buried in your subconscious, but you gained control of her instead. She killed you to stop you. That's where I stepped in. How's that?"
"Pretty clear."
"Well, we aim to please. The customer comes first, you know!"
"So, I'm ascended again."
"Not exactly. Sort of a stop along the way. You have to make that choice for yourself."
"Waffles."
"Bacon on the side?"
"No, I remember this place."
"You should, it came from your mind," Oma stated.
Buffy blinked at that. She'd been working the diner for what seemed like a month now, and it looked the same to her.
"My grandfather brought me here after my parents' funeral. I had waffles."
"Waffles it is," Oma said, turning to walk away.
"Wait."
She stopped.
"How do I know it's really you this time? How do I know this isn't some trick Replicator Sam's playing to stop me from controlling her?"
"How deep is the river if you cannot see the bottom?"
An old guy by the counter turned and shouted at Oma, "Deeper than the coffee in my cup, I'll tell you that!"
"Coming!" Buffy called, picking up the coffee pitcher to fill up the empty mug as Oma went to place the order. On her way back, she paused to take a closer look at the new guy. He had to be thirty-something, kinda cute, in an older guy kind of way. "You know, she used that same line on me when I first got here."
"Really? What was your question?"
"If I could get drunk if I ordered a beer."
The man laughed, and Buffy smiled at him. Then, it was like he realized where he was, and started to stand, offering his hand. "I'm Daniel. Daniel Jackson."
"Anne," Buffy said, shaking his hand firmly. "Greetings from a fellow former earthling."
"You're from…Earth?"
"Duh. I said that."
"And you knew I was from Earth, how?"
"Your clothes."
"Excuse me?"
"This is your first time in the diner, you asked about menus, and you're wearing Earth clothes. You're obviously from Earth. If you were from anywhere else, the first questions would be totally different. And, sorry, but I got to give that guy a warm-up."
With that, Buffy gave her best insincere charming grin, and walked over to give the old guy in the corner his coffee. Besides, there was no reason to tell him everyone knew.
Later, she was taking her break, sitting in the kitchen talking to Frank.
"You sure you want to do this, kid? I know you got a thing for your mortal life and all…" he was saying.
"I don't need sleep and I'm still having nightmares about this. Daymares. Whatever. I need to see him."
"So you're going to go to the dimension you sent him to just to apologize?"
"That was the plan."
"You realize that they don't play by the same rules, right?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You can get in, but getting out may take more than you want to give."
"I have to do this," she said, her voice trembling a little as she felt the pain and agony of their final moments together swell through her. "I didn't just kill the man I loved, I sent him to eternal torment. Tell me I don't owe him a visit for that?"
"It's awful close to interfering. Maybe it's just that my instincts are against it."
"So I'm allowed to tutor those who take up the mantle of the Slayer, but I can't even apologize to the people whose lives I've ruined?" she stood, the chair clattering to the floor behind her in her suddenness. "I've had it up to here with your rules!"
"Kid…" Frank started to say, but the slamming of the back door cut him off. She was gone.
Buffy walked into the room, a little surprised at her surroundings. It looked just like the place where she had…killed Angel.
"Angel?" she called, walking through the mansion's hallways.
She rounded the final corner, and stood in shock, staring at the statue of Acathla. When she had last seen it, she had driven a sword through Angel into its heart, or thereabouts. Neither Angel nor the sword were anywhere in sight.
A whistling of air made her turn, too late, as the sword cut through her midsection, and she was thankful for the fact that she was currently incorporeal. But the man on the other end of the sword was a second surprise. Angel was standing, defensively, watching her as if she was a complete stranger.
"Angel?" she asked, her voice quivering.
"Not her, damn you!" he shouted, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the sword too tightly.
He lunged at her, and her slayer reflexes kicked in. With a thought, she created her own sword, and parried his blow, looking across the blades at him.
"It's me. Buffy. Don't you know me?"
"No matter whose face you wear, demon, I'd know you," he spat, backing from the blade lock and executing a vicious low cut that Buffy jumped over.
"God, what have I done to you?" she asked, as she held back his attacks, but she couldn't bring herself to take the offensive. She did it once, because she had to, to save the world. But the world wasn't at stake here. It wasn't right.
"There's no God here, only Hell."
At that, she dropped her sword, the weapon vanishing like a swirl of mist, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry, Angel, I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"
"Why won't you let me be!" he screamed at her, lunging in viciously, continuing to attack. Buffy had a split second to make a decision, and she made it. She fled from the only man she ever loved.
End Act II