Parts of Anne (Buffy Season 3) occur offscreen in this chapter.

August 1998

"...and then I wake up, and he's dead again," Buffy finished, describing the nightmare she'd woken from a few hours earlier.

"You still feel responsible," Andrew observed. May's boyfriend was leaning back in his chair.

"I am responsible," Buffy growled. While he'd helped her work through a lot of her issues with her parents, this was the one where she hadn't budged yet. And she was still a little upset that she was also sitting in a chair across from him, rather than laying on a couch. It didn't really feel like therapy without getting to lay on a couch.

"Humor me, okay? Let's step through this. Why did Angel lose his soul?" Over the last couple of months, Buffy had gradually told Andrew a lot about herself. He really was a good therapist.

"Because I slept with him."

"What if someone else had slept with him? Your friend Cordelia, maybe?"

"Ew. Gross," Buffy made a face. "No. It had to be someone that gave him a moment of perfect happiness. Angel and Cordy? As if."

"So it's your fault because he loved you?"

"And I cost him his soul!"

"Did you know it would happen?" Andrew asked. "Did he?"

"No. I told you. Ms. Calendar was the only one who knew we weren't supposed to be together, and she didn't warn us." Buffy was willing to take the teacher at her word that she hadn't known exactly what the curse was about, but did know Angel shouldn't be dating.

"So there was an adult, who could talk to you at any time, who knew you were in a relationship, and knew it could be a problem, but didn't."

"And she died! Giles was heartbroken."

"This isn't about punishment, Buffy. It's not about judgement, or justice, or karma. It's about blame. If Ms. Calendar was still alive, and here, would you be mad at her? Would you wish she had kept you from sleeping with Angel?"

"Of course. I don't know why she didn't."

Andrew thought she was finally getting it, so moved on. "And then for months, there was, for lack of a better explanation, a homicidal maniac driving around your boyfriend's body."

"I should have done more. I spent so much time trying to save him, and he hurt so many people…"

"Have you watched many zombie movies?" he presented a bit of a non sequitur.

"A few. Usually only when Xander picks movie night."

"Any of them where someone gets caught because they refuse to realize their family member is a zombie and kill them?"

She thought about it, and answered, "Yeah. They're always so dumb."

"It's not dumb, though. You did the same thing. I'd do the same thing if Melinda was in that situation. I've counseled so many people who couldn't even pull the plug on life support for their family members who they know are never going to recover. It's about being human. It's about hope that they'll come back to you. No matter how far gone they are, it's natural to not be able to hurt them."

She was crying now, and she choked out, "But I did. I had to. I told him I loved him. I made him close his eyes. And I stabbed him and sent him to hell."

He gave her a moment to cry then as she started to pull herself together, he asked, "Did he remember what was happening?"

"What? No. I don't know when he'd remember. But it was like he'd skipped the last few months. He knew me. I didn't have time to find out."

"Assume he'd remembered what had happened. If he was the man you knew before he lost his soul." Andrew, as a scientist, was still having a problem with that idea. "If he knew that the only way to save the world was to sacrifice himself. What would he have done?"

Buffy frowned. She got where he was going. She hated admitting it, but eventually growled out, "He would have asked me to kill him. He'd have fought me for the sword and done it himself if I couldn't." She took a breath, and sobbed out, "But when I stabbed him he didn't know why! He was so surprised! The way he looked at me…"

"You don't know what he was thinking. You don't know what he'd be thinking once he got his memories back. From what you've said, when he remembered, it sounds like he would have immediately thought, 'I'm glad Buffy did what she had to and saved the world.' If he'd had all his memories immediately—if he'd asked you to—could you have done it?"

After a minute's thought, she said, "I would have. I don't know if it would have been better or worse."

"Another what-if: if you had never slept with him, but a warlock showed up and broke his curse, would you blame yourself?"

"Of course not."

"So imagine an alternate last year. A warlock shows up and breaks the curse. Angelus is loose. When he gets his soul back, he remembers what Angelus did, and asks you to kill him to save the world. How do you feel?"

"Angry? Have I already slayed the warlock? I want to do that first. Maybe a little doomed. Like this is just my life, and I can't have anything that the bad guys can't take from me." Buffy's tears were drying as she got a little mad just thinking about it.

"But you don't feel guilty? You don't think it's your fault?"

"No?"

"Buffy. How is this any different? The only change is that you took actions that you couldn't have predicted or that you didn't have a choice, rather than someone else obviously choosing for you."

She spent nearly five minutes thinking. A few times she opened her mouth with an answer, then closed it again before saying anything. He'd taught her enough over the summer to be better at separating her feelings from her beliefs. Finally, she just asked, "It's not my fault?"

He shook his head. "The way I see it, there are a lot of people at fault. The Kalderash clan and their dogged dedication to some kind of insane vengeance. A computer teacher who couldn't quite do her job of either guarding that vengeance or helping her student. An unnamed knight who frankly did a very poor job of hiding a world-ending statue where no one would ever find it. But not Buffy Anne Summers."

She just sat for a while, thinking about it, and then nodded. The weight on her shoulders was still there. Unfortunately, you couldn't just shrug off that much pain with a good therapist and a good cry. But it sat easier. "Thanks, Doc. What next?"

"Well, that's about time for today." He thought about letting Coulson tell her, but he didn't want her to leave thinking she'd have another session on her regular schedule. "And that's probably our last in-person session for a while. Coulson has a field trip for you... and then we want you to think about going home."

"I'm… really?"

"You can still call me to talk. I insist on it, even. But I think you're ready. Do you think you're ready?"

"Maybe. But. School. And the police!"

Andrew smiled, "Talk to Coulson. I understand that's taken care of."

"I will. Thanks. Thanks, Andrew."

"It was my pleasure."

Buffy needed a bit of time in her tiny bedroom after her therapy session to get herself back together, but her next stop after that was Coulson's office. Leaning in the door without knocking, she waited for him to look up and asked, "School? Police? Field Trip?"

"And good morning to you, too, Summers," Coulson smiled. Three months had made a difference in the girl that had come to them brooding and depressed. He liked to think he had a lot to do with it, but, honestly, it was probably mostly Dr. Garner.

"C'mon. Spill?" she asked playfully, entering the office and resting her hands on the back of the guest chair across his desk, leaning and waiting for his answer.

"Fine. In order: Handled. Handled. Should be fun." He let her hang for a moment before explaining, "We liaised with the FBI about your friend's murder, mentioned our suspects were British nationals who'd been reported fleeing Sunnydale the next day. They were quite upset with the city's police department to find out that the victim's friend, Buffy Summers, was made the number one suspect for no discernible reason and then shot at while unarmed and leaving the scene.

"Needless to say, all warrants were dropped and since you were expelled based on said warrant, that should also be overturned. To your principal's great disgust. But I understand your mother was quite forceful with the school board."

"Mom?" Buffy asked. "She… was making sure I could go back to school?"

Coulson hid a wince, realizing that he hadn't shared that with Summers yet. "I hope you don't mind. Word was that she was very distraught, and the federal agents may have mentioned that you were safe and implied you were involved in helping track down the fugitives, but would be back eventually."

That conversation was going to be fun. Buffy bit her lip and realized that it was her own fault. She should have called home, but never worked up the courage. "So, no longer being hunted by the police, Snyder has to let me come back to school. Seems of the good."

They hadn't formally discussed it, but Coulson had been getting the vibe that Buffy was going to go home, not drop out and join SHIELD. "When you go back, keep an eye on the city government. When we were there, Barton's read was that the police were deliberately protecting themselves from the city's night life, but then they violate all procedure to go after you? Something's not right."

"I figured they were still mad at me about the dead robot?" Buffy shrugged. The whole Ted debacle had actually happened right after she'd met Coulson the first time. He clearly wanted to ask about it, but just shook his head, so she prompted, "Field trip?"

"We'd always hoped to get you involved in an op before you went back home, to see how much you learned. Something fell across my desk that may be perfect." Seeing he had her attention, and she'd gone from perching on his chair to sitting in it, Coulson continued, "Street kids are going missing in one of the bad neighborhoods in LA. Some signs that it might be something the local authorities can't handle, or at least international trafficking. It's right in your back yard and we don't really have any active agents that could… honestly, that could pose as bait."

"No 21 Jump Street: the SHIELD years agents?"

Coulson tried to pretend that he didn't have a detailed knowledge of the Richard Grieco television vehicle, and said, "Just you. You'll have backup, but I was hoping you wanted to go undercover for a few days. See if we can figure out what's going on."

Buffy thought about it, then shrugged, "Sounds fun. I'm in."

And that was how she wound up a day later in one of LA's slums.

"You know it's funny," Buffy said as if to nowhere, but actually into her hidden microphone. "This is probably the part of town I would have wound up in if I hadn't called you."

"Good rents," Barton's voice agreed from the earbud in her ear. With her hair down, you couldn't even see the fine wire connecting it to the radio under her shirt. It was apparently cutting edge for surveillance headsets, though SHIELD was hoping to cut down the size significantly over the next few years.

"Well, it's a co-op situation," Buffy hedged. "It's cheap because you're roommates with all the bugs." Despite a summer getting plenty of food and access to a shower, she currently looked like she'd been rooming with bugs. They'd given her a set of distressed and dirtied prop clothes, her real possessions safely at the local SHIELD office. The hair and makeup she'd done herself: spy training makeup tips were more special effects than fashion. She'd really gotten that "smokey" eye as if she'd been sleeping in a room full of actual smoke.

She'd been drifting around the neighborhood all afternoon, collecting job applications and generally trying to look like a down-on-her-luck street kid. There hadn't been too many other kids, which might support Coulson's intel or might just be because there wasn't much to do in this part of town. Mostly, there were just old bums muttering as they wandered. One old lady had stumbled past her earlier complaining about being no one. So when Buffy saw a blond girl and dark-haired guy that looked around her age heading into a tattoo parlor, she followed.

Buffy browsed the art in the small parlor. The place had one artist and one chair. It didn't look like the most upscale place in the universe, but they did a decent job of keeping it cleaned. It wouldn't be her first choice, but she didn't feel like she'd be getting weird infections from the needles. The couple was counting out miscellaneous bills onto the counter, before the artist nodded and motioned the guy to head back to the chair.

"We're getting each others' names, in half a heart, so it makes a whole heart when we put our arms together," the tall blond girl told Buffy, as if she had asked.

"Seems nice," Buffy agreed, tentatively. There was something about the girl…

Her eyes widened too, "Buffy?" she exclaimed, loud enough to make the Slayer wince, but probably not heard over the tattoo needle on the other side of the shop.

"Anne, please," Buffy cautioned her. "I'm going by Anne here. I… don't want people to hear where I am."

"I get it," the girl said, knowingly. "I'm going by Lily now, but I was calling myself Chanterelle before. You know, when you saved me from that cult of vampires?" she lowered her voice for the last part. "I never thanked you but… thank you."

That finally brought the girl's face into context for Buffy. She was currently dressed like a hippy, not like a goth. In her earpiece, Barton chuckled, "How many people have you saved?"

"No biggie. I'm glad you're in a better place," Buffy ignored Barton and demurred to Lily.

"How'd you pick Anne?"

"Middle name. You?"

"Lily's from a song. Rickie picked it," she nodded at her boyfriend in the tattoo chair. "Chanterelle was from my exotic phase."

"It's nice. It's a– it's a mushroom."

"It is? That's really embarrassing," Lily frowned.

"Um, well, it's an exotic mushroom. If that's any comfort," Buffy hedged.

"Well, before that, I was following this loser preacher and calling myself 'Sister Sunshine.' I'm hoping I can stay Lily for a while. I like Rickie. He protects me. And he's not… is he?"

"Seems normal," Buffy nodded, not that her sense of the supernatural was very good. "Still daytime, so not a vampire. And demons don't usually get tattoos to show how much they like you if they're going to eat you."

"Good," the girl's smile was bright. "Why are you here? Are you hunting vampires?"

Buffy couldn't tell whether she'd done a bad job at the broke-and-desperate outfit or if Lily just looked past that completely, but she figured her cover was already blown so she might as well recruit an ally. "Maybe? Kids are going missing around here. I'm trying to figure out why."

Lily frowned. She'd nearly gotten eaten a year earlier, and didn't seem to like that it might be happening to other people. "I can ask around. Oh! The Gibs! I know some kids go off with them to get a crash place."

"The Gibs?"

"Some weird church. Like I said, I'm over my Sister Sunshine phase, so I wasn't interested. But we can go find them after I get my tattoo?"

Buffy nodded, and then Rickie was done. Lily introduced Buffy to him as Anne, praised his tattoo, then went to get her own. While they waited, they made small talk. Frankly, Buffy didn't think Rickie was all there, mentally, but he seemed nice. She really couldn't fault any girl her choice in boyfriends.

Before Lily's tattoo was finished, Barton's voice explained over the comms, "I called in these 'Gibs.' HQ thinks it's probably the Church of Gibborim. What they've got so far is that it's some kind of local cult that started in the 80s, using Scientology's playbook to grow. Founder died this year, and his daughter took over and is doing more charity outreach. They could be legit, or at least doing legit charity to raise their profile. But the old carny in me thinks it could be a grift. I'll try to spot them."

Buffy surreptitiously clicked her comm in the way they'd taught her to indicate she copied, though she knew she was never going to remember the Church of Bubblegum. Gift Bonbon? Gibbon Mom? She'd already lost it.

By the time that Lily was putting her arm next to Rickie's to show off their new matching heart tattoo, it was starting to get close to dinnertime. That was apparently the right window, because Barton told her, "About three blocks down the street to your right. White van with the church logo." She was surprised he could be sure that far away. "I'll get on the bike and follow you."

"Hey, let's try this way?" Buffy told the couple. "I think I see a van."

"I thought you didn't want to try the Gibs, Lily?" Rickie asked, nonetheless going along with the two girls.

"Anne was interested," Lily shrugged. "I guess we can see what they have to say."

Sure enough, the large white panel van had "Church of Gibborim" stenciled on the side in a fancy font. Even seeing it spelled, Buffy wasn't sure she was going to remember it. "What is a Gibborim, anyway?" she wondered, hoping reading it aloud would fix it in her memory.

"We'd love to tell you three about it!" a middle-aged woman announced, walking up to the van with another teen who she was leading out of a cheap diner. "Hop on in!"

"I don't know about getting in vans with strangers," Buffy demurred. Half of it was tradecraft, not trying to seem too eager. The other half was that the lady gave her a weird vibe, like some of the ladies that went into her mom's art gallery but only wanted religious art.

"Well I'm Aura," the woman said, "And this is Maddie, right?" she introduced the teen she was escorting. "And that's Ken, driving the van." A man who was so average and Caucasian that he reminded her of little more than a stick of butter with a black toupee waved from the driver's seat, giving a friendly smile. "So we're not strangers anymore."

"Is this to go to church? Or is there a center?" Lily asked.

"A little of both, really," Aura explained. "Just come check it out. A hot meal. A shower. A good night's sleep." Rickie seemed sold, but Buffy and Lily were still putting off a vibe of being undecided. "If it's not for you, you can totally leave. No strings. I swear."

"Well, alright," Buffy nodded, trying to fake giving in. Acting lessons hadn't been top of the list for her SHIELD training over the summer, and she wasn't going to spy her way into an international syndicate or anything, but she hoped she could fake out the church lady. "I'm Anne, by the way. This is Lily and Rickie."

"So glad to meet you all. Hop on up!" Aura said, opening the sliding door on the van and revealing a pretty nice interior. Clean, comfy seats. Though, Buffy noticed, they were the kind of vinyl that would be easy to hose off.

As the van drove through early-evening LA, Aura kept up a subtle interrogation of the four teens, filling out intake forms based on their answers. It turned out Rickie was an orphan, and had eventually split from the foster system. Lily kind of vaguely explained that she was just looking for the right fit, you know?

Maddie was a lesbian, had been kicked out by her parents, and Buffy was honestly surprised that Aura's only response was, "You have to follow your own light. I'm sorry your parents couldn't see that." She guessed the classic sin stuff wasn't going to be part of the sales pitch in LA. What was, of course, was Aura noticing, "Oh, Anne. That's a pretty crucifix. Catholic?"

"Not really," Buffy shook her head, kicking herself a little for forgetting to take off her necklace before trying to infiltrate a cult. "Just makes me feel safe, you know?" She honestly wondered whether the triangle with rays of light that seemed to be the Gib holy symbol would do anything to vampires.

"Our teachings are fully compatible with Christianity," Aura explained. "We don't want you all to think we're some crazy cult or anything." She laughed. Everyone else kind of laughed politely.

A bit more chit-chat and fighting through LA rush traffic and they stopped at a large, single-story building in a reasonably nice mixed-use part of the city. The Church of Gibborim logo was on a sign out front and stenciled on the glass doors. It reminded Buffy of the kind of building that would inevitably tack itself onto older churches so there was a place for suppers and choir practice, just without the old church.

"Let's go get dinner, huh?" Aura clapped her hands, leading everyone inside.

Buffy heard the sound of a motorcycle and saw Barton pass by, looking for another place to set up. She'd caught sight of him a few times out of the window of the van, but doubted that she would have if she hadn't been looking for him. "This isn't the main campus," he told her over her comms. "I got a little more from HQ. The wife of the founder went missing suspiciously several years back, and the church covered it up. Leslie Ellerh is the daughter, currently in charge. Red hair, early 20s, but I doubt she'd be here."

Aura led them into the building, and down a hall that led to a fairly large cafeteria, where a couple dozen teens were already mid-meal. While the clothing they were wearing was simple, it was multicolored and didn't quite look like the everybody-in-white style Buffy expected. The over-friendliness, though, was something she was super familiar with from the few times she'd wound up going to a youth group. These kids had clearly been taught to be frighteningly inclusive.

Amid a litany of all the things the Church had done for them, getting their lives back on track, what Buffy didn't find was evidence that they'd have been reported missing. Most of them were registered for school already, and the Church legal team was getting them properly emancipated or assigned to allied foster parents. Would she have wound up here, if she hadn't called SHIELD? "Bathroom?" she eventually asked, realizing she didn't have the covert interrogation skills to figure out anything useful over the simple-but-abundant cafeteria food.

They didn't even escort her, though she thought she felt a few of the adults' eyes following her. As soon as she was sure they weren't anymore, she slipped past the bathroom door and further into the building. The layout wasn't actually that complicated: the cafeteria, bathrooms, dorms, study rooms, and worship hall took up most of the floor. Everything was clearly marked, and so she was able to quickly sneak into the area marked as staff offices. "Director's Office," sounded promising, especially since it was locked.

SHIELD also hadn't really had much luck teaching her lockpicking skills, but Slayer strength was more than sufficient. With a quiet snap of the lock breaking, Buffy pushed the handle down and the door open. "I'm searching the director's office," she informed Barton over the comms.

"Repositioning to cover that side of the building," he confirmed.

Hoping that Lily was covering for her and they didn't think she was doing drugs in the bathroom, Buffy tried to make it fast, but she wasn't exactly research-girl. None of the documents in the filing cabinets had "Evil Plan for Abducting Children" on them in block letters. Most of them seemed to be intake forms for the teens: she recognized a few of the names that she'd met earlier. Glancing at a couple, none of them had anything obviously scary written on them.

Then, in a lower cabinet, she found the files for the kids that had left without enrolling. "Read me off some of the missing names?" she asked Barton. He obliged, and after about a dozen she told him, "Most of those are in the rejects file. They were here, but didn't decide to stay."

"That's suspicious," he agreed. "Anything marked on them?"

"Not really," she admitted, glancing through the forms. "They look like the same forms as the kids who stayed, just with 'Refused Enrollment' checked."

"Still, I think that might be enough for us to send in– hold up. Nice BMW just pulled up. Redhead getting out: might be Ellerh. Coming your way; get moving."

"Copy," Buffy said, hastily stuffing the folders back into the cabinet and slipping out of the office just in time to walk casual around a corner and almost into a pretty girl only a few years older than her but in a very expensive white pantsuit. Buffy couldn't help but observe, "Helmut Lang original?"

The other young woman, about to ask why she was back there, instead admitted, "Good eye. Not many of our guests know fashion. Leslie," she extended a hand.

"Anne," Buffy greeted her. "Sorry, got lost coming back from the bathroom."

"Or you wanted to snoop a bit and see what's not on the tour?"

"Busted," Buffy tried to smile guiltily. "Used to looking for the catch, you know."

"I get it," Leslie nodded. "Honestly? The catch is that you're marketing. It looks great to donors and recruits that we're getting kids off the street. Especially kids that just need regular meals and shelter to clean up well." Buffy must have made a face because Leslie laughed, "Too honest? We want to fix the whole world, but there are definitely quieter ways to do charity. It's a little self-serving for us to go for the more obvious ones first, right? If it works out, we'll definitely parade you around meet-and-greets as a success story. That enough of a catch?"

Despite herself, Buffy smiled. She couldn't help but like the fashion-conscious cult leader. "You sure you're not going to make us sign a contract to be your slaves in a third-world country or something?"

"That's so Sea Org," Leslie scoffed. "I don't even own a boat. I know the whole thing sounds suspiciously like Dianetics, but unlike some sci-fi authors, my father didn't write his book as a bet. If he was still here, you could see how much he believed it."

If Leslie Ellerh was acting, she was good at it. Buffy couldn't help but to step forward and take the young woman's hand as she choked off a bit of a sob on the last line. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Thanks," Leslie said, using the back of her knuckle to wipe away a small tear. "It's been a long year. Why don't you get back to the dining hall? They usually save the good desserts for the nights with new guests."

"Sure," Buffy nodded. Then, not sure why she was sharing other than knowing how lonely it was at the top, she asked, "Do you have someone to talk to? I lost my boyfriend a few months ago and if I'd had to carry it all by myself…"

"I do," she said. "An old friend of my father's. It's helping. I'm sorry about your boyfriend."

"Yeah, sorry about your dad," Buffy agreed. "See you around," she said, heading off. As soon as she was out of earshot, she told Barton, "If she's kidnapping kids, she's a great liar."

"Doesn't seem likely, from her background," he agreed. "Could still be someone else in the church. Hard to tell how much control she has, taking over so suddenly. But I don't think you're going to find out anything else. You can head out."

The chocolate cake that they laid out for the guests was pretty good. Buffy found a minute of relative privacy to tell Lily, "I don't think it's them, though the missing kids were here and left. I need to go."

"You're not going to stay the night?" the taller girl asked.

"Could be vampires," Buffy admitted. "I should be out there after dark to find out."

"Makes sense. Be careful? I think we're going to stay for a while. Rickie really likes it. And if they're not bad… can you come back and get me if it turns out they are? I don't want to make another mistake like last time."

"I will. Take care of yourself," Buffy said her farewells and headed over to Aura, "I'm sorry. You guys seem nice, but I don't think this is my thing. I'm going to head out. Rickie and Lily are going to stay."

"I'm sorry to hear that. You sure you don't want to stay the night? It's not really safe out on the streets after dark…" Seeing that the girl was resolute, Aura nodded and said, "Okay, but I'll get Ken to drive you to wherever you're going, okay?"

Not able to suggest that she'd just catch a motorcycle ride with her secret agent partner, Buffy agreed, and twenty minutes later she was riding along in the van with the human pile of plain toast that was Ken the bus driver.

"Just wasn't for you, huh?" Ken eventually asked. Even his voice was like a baked potato with nothing on it. "Not a joiner? I know how it is. I drive a lot of kids back to their place on the streets. They'd rather spend their time in the darkness than an unfamiliar light. Most of them will just keep running away, until they finally run out of room to run."

"Where are we going?" Buffy asked, realizing that they weren't really heading to the same neighborhood.

"Almost there," he assured her, turning down a run-down alley and making for the end, where a garage door began to open after he used a remote… revealing a darkness behind it so dark, even Buffy's enhanced night vision wasn't enough to see through. "And since all those kids were destined to be no one anyway, I figure, why not get some use out of them, you know?"

"Stop the van and let me out," Buffy insisted, as he unhurriedly pulled down the alley.

"I had really hoped that Rickie would be the one who was the quitter. He looked strong. But, I guess, one out of four isn't bad," Ken ignored her. Buffy tried the door, realizing it was locked, and just before she reached over to stop him, the van disappeared into the garage like it was sliding into a vertical wall of oil.

Barton, only twenty seconds behind, tore down the alley on his bike yelling, "Summers! Summers! I've lost comms. Do you read me?"

He was not prepared for the intern to stagger out of an inky wall of blackness leading a dozen bedraggled people in plain linen shifts, looking like she'd been through at least an hour of combat even though she'd been gone for under half a minute. Behind her, the blackness shimmered with green light and became just a simple recessed building wall.

"How was that your Gandhi impression?" one of the rescuees asked Buffy, clearly referencing something that must have happened inside.

As Barton just sat there, wondering what the hell was going on but pretty sure Summers must have just solved the case, she shrugged and explained, "Well, you know… if he was really pissed off?"