Disclaimer: Don't own Smallville, Supernatural or Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-
SIX MONTHS LATER
"Angel! I swear to god! If you don't pay for me to get my hair done I will stake you myself!" Cordelia Chase stomped her foot down in fury as she picked pieces of that demon Angel had had the brilliant idea to explode to pieces (WHILE SHE WAS RIGHT NEXT TO IT) out of her hair. Her voice was a petulant whine as she realized what she had in her hands was part of its ear. "I just got my hair done! Angel, you have no understanding or appreciation of how hard and expensive it is to be this beautiful!"
"Alright, alright, fine." Angel rolled his eyes. "I'll pay for a spa day."
"Yay!" She squealed in happiness, until a finger fell out of her hair, and she whined loudly. "My life is so gross."
"Also, you're going to have to start using a different pseudonym when you go undercover," the vampire informed her as he searched through his contacts for their client's number. When he'd left Sunnydale he'd never expected to open up a Paranormal investigation agency (Angel Investigations), or that Cordelia Chase would somehow end up working alongside him, along with Wesley (who'd left Sunnydale as he felt Sam Zambuto could give Faith better training than he could). "You can't go as Cordelia Dean every single time."
She frowned. "Why not? I like that name."
"You can like other names," Angel informed her. "Why are you so pigheaded and keep using that one?"
She opened her mouth and then closed it as a little crease formed between her eyebrows. "I don't know."
"I don't know isn't a great answer," he replied. "People are going to start making connections if in each case you use that name."
"Look, don't talk to me about acting weird, okay?" Cordelia planted her hands on her hips. "Your the weirdo who refuses to take off some gaudy jewelry and don't even know why! It's cursed I tell you! Cursed! If you lost it you mightn't be such a wet blanket all the time!"
Angel's fingers curled around the chain from which the claddagh ring hung from. He couldn't remember why he'd had that ring on his possession, it wasn't his, it was much too small, but try as he had, he hadn't been able to get rid of it. Instead it'd found its way to its permanent place against his unbeating heart. "It's not cursed."
"And Dean isn't a stupid last name," Cordelia insisted. "So let's agree to disagree."
"Agreed," Angel whispered as he pulled the ring up and looked at it.
His heart hurt.
He didn't know why.
His brown gaze found Cordelia staring off into the distance, a confused and pained expression on her face as well. "Cordelia?"
"Yes, Angel?" She turned to look at him once more.
"Why are you working with Wes and I?" He asked what he'd wanted to ask ever since she'd shown up on his doorstep and ordered him to give her a job.
Her lips parted and she took in a deep breath before she sighed and looked away. "I don't know. It makes me feel closer, I guess."
"To what, or who?" He asked softly.
She turned to look at him once more. "I don't know."
"GUYS!" Wesley stumbled into the room. "You'll never guess what happened while you were—oh my god Cordelia, you look atrocious!"
In seconds her sadness was replaced by ire. "I want that voucher for the spa now, Angel!"
He sighed and nodded, a slow smile turning up the corners of his lips as he let go of the ring. "Yes ma'am."
-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-
"Spike, you're not going to know who this is, and you'll probably never even get this message since I wont exist anymore, but I had to try. I called you, Spike, I called you so many times, please know that I made the effort." Spike sat in his newest lair and stared at the phone, which was on speaker, the voicemail he'd received six months ago, the one he hadn't been able to recognize the voice of - yet couldn't delete - played once more. "I need you to know that you started out like a pain in my ass, a total annoyance, but damn it Spike, I learnt to love you so much. I wouldn't have survived those three years with Angelus and Dru if you hadn't been there with me. You got me through my darkest times, and I love you. And I don't want you to feel like you've been abandoned by someone else!" The girl, whoever she was, broke down crying for a bit, before she forced herself on. "You're not going to care. You won't know who I am. You won't even get this message, but I had to leave it anyway. I love you Spike. I left because I had to. Not because I wanted to. I have to go. And by going I'll be protecting you all, and Sam's going to live again. I've made that deal. He'll live, he won't be a Special Child anymore, but that's okay, because he's going to be able to live a normal life."
Spike glanced over at Sam Winchester, the guy he'd met when he'd gone to Sunnydale to mess with Angel some time ago. Considering Spike was usually very drunk while around his Grandsire it hadn't really bothered him that the particulars of why he and Sam were friends escaped him, but then he'd realized he had a message in his phone, and this had just confused the hell out of him - especially since Sam also had no clue who in the world this girl was.
"I know you felt abandoned by your mother when you changed her only for her to become someone you had to stake, by Angel when he got his soul, by Darla when Angel left, and then by Dru. But I need you to know that I didn't abandon you. I'd have asked you to come with me if it wasn't for the fact that you'd be dead where I'm going." There was a pause as she breathed in deeply. "Goodbye, Spike. Take care of Kal and Lucy for me please. And take care of yourself as well. You mightn't remember me, but I'll never forget you."
The message ended.
"Who the bloody hell is that?" Spike asked as he leaned forwards in his seat. "I feel like I should know her, but I don't."
"What I can't understand is what she meant by the fact that you'd be dead where she was going," Sam muttered to himself as he cracked his neck. "Who is this girl? Why did she save my life? Who did she make the deal with? How does she know about your family? You don't tell a lot of people… especially not about Angel."
"Do you know how badly my reputation would suffer if they knew that Poofster was my Grandsire?" Spike shivered at the very thought. "And how does she know about Kal and Lucy? They're even more secretive than you are."
Sam shrugged. "I only know them through you." He paused. "How do you know them?"
Spike opened his mouth and then frowned when it took him a moment to remember. "We met them when Angelus lost his Soul and toured Europe with me and Dru. I think… You remember. You were there because…" Spike turned to look at Sam. "Angelus brought you along for some reason."
"Right." Sam nodded, vaguely remembering this as well. "He said he'd always wanted a pet dog."
"Exactly." Spike nodded as well. "Wait… didn't he used to keep you chained up in his room?" He narrowed his eyes on Sam. "Did anything happen between you two that I should know about?"
Sam stared at him in confusion before he choked on his saliva in sudden understanding. "NO! No. Nothing happened." A jolt of pain stabbed at his temples as a vague memory appeared. In it Sam stared at the back of some blonde as she rode Angelus. "He made me watch him as he fucked girls though. The asshole."
"Probably wanted you to join," Spike muttered. "He's such a Poofster. Did you know that one time he and I—." He then froze and made a face. "Right. Let's not go there. Forget I said anything. Seriously. Forget it."
The memory was quickly fading, but Sam forced himself to concentrate on it. It'd been a girl. Right? A blonde. And she'd had some sort of kanji tattoo. It'd had fang marks all over it and was bleeding.
His head killed him, but Sam fought it, concentrating on the memory of Angelus and the random blonde of the night.
Why in the world was this memory trying so hard to escape?
And why didn't he want to let it?
-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-
"What do you mean?" Azazel growled out as he looked between his three most trusted. He'd known that something was going on, something had happened six months ago that had left him and many of his demons in Cold Oak not only unable to remember the last couple of hours, but they'd outnumbered the Slayer and her friends - and yet couldn't attack them. Not only that, but he'd realized there was a body there that he had to bring back. Not that he wanted to. No. There was a deal in place. The thing was that Azazel didn't forget his deals. He could remember making every single one of them from the first to his last - but he couldn't remember ever agreeing to bring Sam Winchester back to life - and had no clue what in the world he'd received in exchange. But he'd been bound by the contract and so he'd brought John Winchester's only son back to life.
Things had been weird since then, but even he hadn't seen this coming.
Meg took in a deep breath. "When I found out I checked it myself. The reports are true. The Hellmouths all over the world have dried up. They're gone."
"How is that even possible?" Brady wanted to know. "One drying up I could maybe understand - but all of them? And seemingly overnight? It should take decades for such endless source of power to disappear! Not six months!"
"Six months?" Azazel turned his gaze to the blonde. There it was again, that figure, six months.
Brady nodded. "Calius says it's as if there was a leak that sprung out, and the energies just… I don't know… spilled through the hole somewhere else. We don't know where, though because they're gone and there's no evidence of any tear or hole or leak or whatever caused this!"
"What happens now?" Meg asked, uncertainty in her voice. "This has to be the reason behind why magic's weakening all around the world."
"Were the Hellmouths connected to the Wellspring? To the Seed?" Tom asked the question on Azazel's mind.
Azazel hadn't thought they were connected, he'd believed them completely separate. But this couldn't be mere coincidences. The effect hadn't been felt immediately, but now that they were they could be traced back… to six months ago.
Six months.
What the hell had happened six months ago?
Something had happened, something which had caused the Wellspring to begin to turn to tar, and the Seed to start to wither. Azazel hadn't seen the effects on the Wellspring or the Seed himself, they were in places even he could not go, but those few with access to them had relayed their worry to him in regards to their deterioration. But even if they hadn't warned him of what was occurring to the Wellspring and the Seed he would've felt the effects and known something was monumentally wrong.
What had happened
What had changed?
What could've dried up every Hellmouth - as well as wreck havoc on magic?
How ere they even connected?
Taking a deep breath, Azazel leaned back in his chair.
There were so many questions, but the biggest was:
Why do I have this nagging feeling that I'm forgetting something very important?
-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-
Kal watched Lucy as she ironed out the details with a couple of demons who wanted to hire them to steal something or the other for them. Since had no patience to deal with hagglers, Lucy always handled the neogitaions. He was more than fine with that.
The alien pulled out his phone to Chloe to complain about humans and demons alike - when he stopped. Right. Her number wasn't in his phone anymore.
According to everyone in the world, Chloe Sullivan had never even existed.
Kal wasn't sure why the spell hadn't worked on him. Maybe it was because, as an Intergalactic Traveller, his brain was hardwired differently. Maybe it was something else altogether. All he knew was that he was the only person in the world who remembered Chloe Sullivan, Dean Winchester, Buffy Summers - everyone who'd left to go to the WWM - World Without Magic.
At times like these he wondered how their lives were like over in the WWM. It also made him remember his last conversation with Azazel, it'd been as the spell was been cast. Azazel had turned his head towards Kal, and whatever he'd seen had made him chuckle. He'd then tilted his head towards Kal and said: 'Don't worry, the idea is no one can remember what she is, I've made sure of that. She'll be fine. They all will.'
That didn't really make him feel that much better though. And every time he noticed something else which had changed because of their disappearance he couldn't help but pause in an effort to try and take it in.
Like, in his re-write, Angel had still come to Sunnydale when he had, but he'd teamed up with Sam and Cordelia. They'd managed to keep things going until Kendra and her Watcher, Sam Zambuto, had arrived in Sunnyvale. They'd learned to work together as a team until Kendra had fallen in the line of duty, and Faith had been called, along with Wesley. Angel had lost his soul due to some glitch in his curse, and he'd taken Sam and had toured Europe with him, Spike and Dru until he'd gotten his soul back and gone to Los Angeles. Wesley, who'd helped Angel get his soul back, had realized Sam Zambuto was a better Watcher, and had left Faith in his care to go work with Angel, and then Cordelia had joined soon after.
The three of them were working as a team, and Kal checked in on them sometimes because Chloe would've wanted him. They seemed happier as the months went by. Time was most probably erasing any memories of the people they'd lost, memories which might've clung to their subconscious.
Sam hadn't followed Wesley and Cordelia to work with Angel. No. Despite believing himself an only child - and not remembering his lifelong feelings for Chloe - Sam had somehow connected with Spike. Chloe had wanted to give him a second chance at life so that he could live a normal one, but Sam Winchester was doing anything but.
Instead of studying law, Sam was Spike's constant companion. He was also still a witch - which Kal didn't quite get. Hadn't that been a Special Child thing? If so, Sam should have lost that ability when Chloe left this world, but instead of being a normal human boy, Sam was making a name for himself in the demon world. William the Bloody and Samuel the Enchanter they were being called by the demon community. Whatever Sam had gone through, had adapted to in this re-imagining of his kidnapped days, it'd made him the person he was right now - who, to be honest, Kal quite liked. But Kal knew he had a bit of a dark side in him too, it was why he liked Angelus but didn't like Angel, so he was no one to judge others or their characters.
Talking about Sam, his buddy in crime, Spike, was still split from Dry, but did not seem too desperate to go after her. Reminds me of when he realized he still had Chloe. Kal wondered whether Spike had ever erased the voicemail message from Chloe which had unexpectedly remained on the vampire's phone after her disappearance.
When Spike had asked Kal if he had any idea who 'the bird in the message' was, Kal had looked into his buddy's eyes and lied. He'd told him he had no clue who in the world that was.
Chloe couldn't be remembered. It wasn't safe for her otherwise. Kal knowing was enough to make things risky, he couldn't allow anyone else to remember.
She'd made a sacrifice to protect them, and he'd honor that sacrifice.
"Let's go." Lucy grabbed his hand and led him away.
"Everything ready?"
"Of course." She flashed him a grin before it dimmed somewhat. "Are you okay? You looked sad back there."
He snorted at that and flashed her a smirk in return. She could never know the truth. "Want to go home so I can show you exactly what I was thinking?"
Her mischievous smile was all the answer he needed.
-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-
He was quickly losing patience with his emissaries for their continued failure. He'd felt it, even if only for the briefest of minutes. It'd been here - HERE - and yet they'd arrived to find what was rightfully his gone once more. Who had dared to take from him? To steal from him? To continue hiding what was his?
Whenever he found out who was behind this he'd make an example out of them.
"We'll find it, oh Glorified One," the emissary remained with his forehead pressed against the ground. "Just give us a little more time!"
It'd been in this realm, this reality. He hadn't imagined it. No. He'd searched so long for what had been stolen from him… he knew its essence, he wouldn't mistake it for anything else. That was why he knew it was here - it had to be here - it was being masked, hidden, but he would not give up until he had it once more.
And this time there was nothing and no one who'd take it from him.
-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-
MEANWHILE, IN THE WORLD WITHOUT MAGIC…
-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-
"Mom! You need to stop doing this, I'm getting fat!" Bette complained as she sat by the kitchen table. More explicitly, she sat in front of the large plate of chocolate chip cookies, a cookie in each hand, both with a piece already bitten out of it.
Joyce laughed as she turned to lean against the sink and eye the girl. "You don't have to eat them all you know."
"Sacrilege!" Bette cried up at her foster mother. "You don't just set a plateful of cookies in front of me and not expect me to devour them all. And you are constantly baking cookies. Or cakes. I've given up the idea of ever having a successful diet."
"You don't need to diet." Shaking her head, Joyce pushed away from the sink and joined Bette at the table. "Baking cookies helps makes the houses I show seem more homey. And it works! I got an offer on the Seagull Drive listing today."
"That's amazing! Congratulations!" Bette immediately became a mixture of excited and impressed. "Isn't that the second listing this month? You're on a roll!"
"I feel that way!" Joyce admitted as she snatched a cookie from the plate and bit into it. "We were right to come here. I was worried about everything, especially with how new and different it is to what we were used to, but it was the right choice."
Bette made a face. "You could've chosen somewhere less boring though."
"It's not boring," Joyce laughed.
"Nothing happens here, ever." Bette made a face. "I keep on having to talk myself out of starting a fire in school to liven things up."
"Bette." Joyce raised an eyebrow. "What have I told you about playing with your lighter?"
"Not to take it out if I"m not home, and that I can only use it to light candles," Bette replied immediately with practiced ease. "Don't worry, I'm a pyromaniac - not an arsonist." She suddenly grinned. "I did this test online that promotes that new X-men moving coming out - and it said that if I was a mutant I'd have some sort of fire ability." She reached into her jacket and pulled out her custom zippo lighter and flipped open the top before sparking a flame. "Cool, huh?"
"My daughter - the girl most likely to burn down the school gym," Joyce sighed, only half teasing.
Bette chuckled at the thought and flipped the lid shut. "Talking about reprobates, when's Buffster coming? She should be here by now."
"You know her, she loses all track of time once she's at the dojo." Joyce smiled at the thought of how Buffy had found her calling: working at a local dojo. Joyce had never liked the fact that her daughter had learnt to fight, mostly because for a time it'd seemed like that was all Buffy was doing - fighting everyone - but she'd mellowed out, and this dojo had helped tremendously. It'd given her a way to express her frustrations in a positive way, and it'd become her life. Whenever she wasn't home, or at Rupter's, she could be found at the dojo.
"Yeah, but Rupert is always on time," Bette muttered as she glanced up at the clock. "What he sees in her I have no clue."
"Honey, you need to stop trying to steal your sister's boyfriend." Joyce bit into the cookie and couldn't keep the teasing smile from growing on her face. "No matter how dreamy he is."
Bette and her shared conspirator's grins and they ate their cookies in silent amusement.
It'd been hard at first for Joyce to accept Rupert Giles as her daughter's boyfriend, but she'd quickly come to realize that he helped ground Buffy. Sure, he was much older than Buffy - he was around Joyce's age for crying out loud - but she'd never seen Buffy as happy as she was with him. Joyce was just so glad that Buffy had chosen someone as respectable and established and stable as Rupert Giles. It was also nice to say that her daughter was dating a college professor, and the fact that he taught mythology meant there was never a boring conversation. Plus, he gave Joyce something handsome to look at during her dry periods in between boyfriends.
Bette's phone beeped and she reached for it, scrolling as she read the message which had just arrived. "Buffy said they'll be late, and asked me to cover for her so you don't find out she used an excuse to teach Rupert 'some moves' to, you know, teach him some moves."
Joyce sighed. "The things you two share with each other… they're not appropriate."
"What's not appropriate is the incest that went on under this roof," Bette informed her with a mischievous expression in her hazel eyes. "Or, well, not this roof solely, but your roof. Your many roofs."
Joyce flicked a crumb at her youngest. "Hush."
"I'm just saying - things went on that taught me all sorts of useful 'moves'." She then stuffed the rest of the cookie into her mouth, yet it couldn't stifle the evil little chuckle she let out.
"Will you stop calling it incest?" Dean's voice sounded behind them. "I am in no way blood related to you people."
Joyce turned towards him and smiled, arms wide. "Honey! When did you get back in?" She hugged him tightly when he was in arms' reach. "I've missed you so much!"
"Mom, I was gone for three days. Two nights. Not even three whole nights." Dean rolled his eyes yet chuckled as he allowed himself to be hugged and a crumb-covered kiss pressed to his cheek. "Chocolate chips? Hmmm. You must've had a listing today."
"She got an offer on Seagull," Bette informed him.
"Congrats! The commission on that place must be huge!" Dean hugged Joyce once more and gave her a little twirl.
"We'll be dining on lobster from now on," Joyce chuckled once she was finally put down by her step-son. He was all that remained of her second husband, and even though he looked so much like his father, and that could hurt at times, she'd missed him so fiercely. Dean hadn't been the happiest when his father had married Joyce, and he'd gotten three step-sisters, but he'd quickly warmed up to them, and after John's passing, had taken over the role of man of the house. A role which couldn't have been easy for him at that age, but he'd done Joyce and the girls proud.
"Don't let You Know Who hear that," Bette snickered. "She'll get arrested again."
"Will you stop referring to me as if I'm Voldemort?" Another voice asked as Chloe entered the room, eyebrow raised. "I liberated captured lobsters from a grocery store. That's clearly a Hermione move."
"No one in this house is Hermione," Bette informed her. "We're all Slytherins. Mom's the only Hufflepuff here."
"What does that mean, exactly?" Joyce wanted to know.
"It's a good thing," Bette reassured her.
Chloe rolled her eyes yet smiled as she turned to Dean. "Where's my hug?"
"The women in this family are so needy," Dean teased as he wrapped her in his arms and twirled her around similarly to how he had Joyce. "Now you're going to say how much you missed me too."
She snorted when he put her down. "Are you joking? I enjoyed every second of it. When are you going away again?"
Dean's lips parted in mock hurt as he turned to Joyce. "Mom. Punish her."
Joyce wagged her finger at Chloe. "Young lady, be nice to him. You know he's terrified of flying."
"He wet his pants once when there was turbulence," Bette chimed up.
"That was 7up and you know it!" Dean announced in horror.
"Sure thing, Tiger." Bette winked.
"When's Rupert coming?" Dean wanted to know with a frown. "I keep getting ganged up on by you women all the time. This is sexist and discriminatory. I'm going to my room." With that he mock stormed out of there, yanking Chloe's ponytail playfully on his way out.
Bette waited until she heard his footsteps ascending the stairs before she chuckled and rubbed her crumb-filled hands together. "Just wait - shhh - wait till he gets in his room and sees it."
Joyce groaned. "What did you do?"
"I left him adult diapers everywhere, you know, in case he 'hit turbulence' and spilt 7up all over himself again," she replied innocently.
Upstairs they could hear: "BETTE!"
Bette held her sides as she laughed.
"You know that was 7 UP." Chloe was visibly trying to be stern, but her voice was full of repressed laughter.
"Duh!" Bette rolled her eyes. "But I have so little on him that I have to milk what I do have."
"How did you turn out so evil?" Chloe asked in obvious awe.
"Don't be impressed by her," Joyce ordered her other foster daughter. "It'll only egg her on."
Bette was visibly unrepentant as she continued to giggle. "You should probably go up before he discovers the rain jacket and boots I put in his bathroom with a note saying 'in case of turbule—."
"BETTE!" Dean could be heard yelling from upstairs. "IT WAS 7 UP! BETTE! IT WAS 7 UP!"
Chloe groaned. "He's going to be sulking all night now."
"Not if you bully him into behaving," Bette declared with an innocent smile. "Or, if you're feeling extra guilty for enjoying his pain so much, just let him yank on your pony tail a couple of times and he'll be in a good mood in no time. You know how much he loves pulling your hair."
Chloe turned to Joyce. "Where did you go wrong with her?"
"I don't know," Joyce responded with a smile.
Bette grinned at them both. "I am a product of my upbringing. What I am, you all have made me."
Chloe snorted. "I wash my hands clean of you. I already have one brat to deal with, thank you very much."
Bette chuckled as she watched Chloe walk right back out of the kitchen. "I love you too, sis!" She listened for Chloe's steps up the stairs, and then turned to Joyce. "So, I've been thinking. You need to date again."
Joyce blinked at the surprising change of topic. "Excuse me?"
"Buffy's dad was bleh." Bette had only met him once but she'd cultivated a very ardent disgust for Joyce's ex. "And dad - Dean's dad - he's been dead for six years now. You've raised us all amazingly, and, uh, we're all basically grown up, and it's something we've talked about when you're not around. We want you to be happy." She cleared her throat, "Which is why I've signed you up for a couple of dating sites…. and you have your first date next Tuesday with an accountant named Bill."
Joyce stared wordlessly at her youngest.
"Don't worry, he's got kids of his own, likes dogs, and might like lighting fireworks."
"This is about us not letting you near fireworks, isn't it?" Joyce guessed.
"Of course not! He seems great!" Bette then grinned. "And, well, the fireworks are a bonus. I'll send you all the information you need before the date. And I'm taking you out shopping."
Joyce just stared at her daughter and couldn't help her laughter as it tumbled off of her lips.
Six years ago, as a newly widowed mother of four, she'd hesitated when she'd received the job offer. Her family had gone through so much change; she'd been scared that uprooting them and taking them somewhere else would only make things worse, and yet now, as she looked back at it, she realized it was the best decision she could've made. Buffy had learnt to let go of her anger towards her father and channel it into a career which she now loved. Dean had been able to start again in a place that didn't remind him of the father he'd just lost. Chloe and Bette, the two girls Joyce and John had fostered, had flourished in the new home. All in all, this was home, and they were all happy.
Smiling, Joyce let out a contented sigh.
Yes, moving to Sunnydale, California, had been the best decision she could've ever made, and she'd never regret it.
Sometimes she had nightmares though. Ever since they'd moved to Sunnydale Joyce had reoccurring nightmares where vampires, werewolves, demons and all sorts of evils threatened her family. She dreamt of Slayers, of Hellmouths, of Special Children. She dreamt of her family apart. Those nightmares terrified her, and she'd wake up and go to visit her children's rooms one by one, watching them as they slept, making sure they were alive, they were safe, and they were under her roof. How she'd relax where Buffy was concerned once her daughter eventually moved out to live with Rupert was a question that still bothered her, but she'd cross that bridge whenever she came to it.
Those were nightmares, they weren't real, they were the figments of her fears manifested in dream form.
Upstairs they heard Chloe's shrieked laughter, followed by Dean's lower, throaty chuckles. From what Joyce could tell, Dean must be tickling the blonde because she was begging for mercy, and the girl only ever made those sounds when Dean used just how ticklish she was against her.
Those sounds were enough to help yank Joyce out of her thoughts and ground her in the present, in reality.
The nightmares weren't real.
This life was real.
And this life was good.
"You okay, mom?" Bette asked curiously.
Joyce nodded and smiled as she glanced out of the window and saw a car pull up outside, Rupert and Buffy smiling besottedly at each other in the front seats. "Yes honey," she whispered in contentment. "Couldn't be better."
-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-
The End of SuperSlayerVille Season Three.