Out of Place
The kitchen felt crowded as the group waited for Giles to arrive. The few minutes it took him to arrive felt like hours. Joyce kept wringing her hands nervously. Every little noise outside made her jump. She didn't like her daughter being the Slayer…what if something had taken her? Her heart skipped a beat as the front door opened and slammed shut. All eyes turned to the doorway to see Giles run in, breathless. He leaned against the doorframe to calm down. He carried a sword in his left hand.
"Planning on killing something, Giles?" Xander asked.
"We…we don't know what might have happened to her. Best to be prepared."
"Well…she's not here…and she wasn't at the Bronze," Faith interjected.
"You don't think…oh what if she left again?" Joyce sounded terrified as she spoke the words. She'd just gotten Buff back. She thought things were better, that Buffy was happier.
"I…I don't think she'd do that," Willow said softly. Part of her couldn't help but share in Joyce's fear.
"She did before. Maybe I was wrong…maybe she isn't happy here."
"Joyce…I don't think she would run off again. She's probably just…well I'm not sure but there must be some logical explanation for this."
Joyce looked around at the people gathered in her kitchen and let out a breath. "I…I'm going to call her father…just to be sure." She walked out of the room without waiting for any acknowledgement.
Giles waited a moment or two before addressing the group. "Is it…possible she went to see Angel?"
"Way ahead of you on that one." Faith took the two steps t the back door and pulled open.
Angel stepped into view. "I haven't seen her in a few days," he repeated.
"Oh dear." Giles reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a cloth, proceeding to clean his glasses. He was worried and everyone knew it.
"Maybe…she went patrolling early? I could go to the cemetery and look," Angel offered as Joyce's footsteps resounded on the stairs.
"You look a little anxious. You sure you're alright?"
Angel looked at Faith. "I'm just worried about Buffy. Besides…Joyce hates me and I don't want to get sharp objects thrown at me." He took a step or two out of view.
"Any luck?" Giles asked as soon as Joyce returned.
"No. He hasn't seen her and she hasn't called him to say she was going to visit." She looked to see the open door.
"Why is that open?"
Faith pulled out a cigarette and lighter from her pocket. "Was just going out for a smoke. So…uh…I'm going to do that…" She crossed the threshold and pulled the door shut.
She turned to see Angel staring at her with a raised brow. "Nice recovery."
"It's how I roll. Come on…let's hit up the cemetery."
"You don't have to come."
"I'm the Slayer too. It's my job."
"Right."
They walked in silence for a while until they reached the edge of the cemetery. Along the way, Faith had lit a cigarette, letting out puffs of smoke every few minutes.
"You really think she skipped town?" Faith asked.
Angel shook his head as they started to walk through the rows of headstones. "I don't think so."
Faith looked around in the darkness, trying to sense anything that was out of place. They continued winding their way through until they'd done a cursory search of the entire premises.
"Ok…she's not here."
Faith could see the anger in his eyes as he punched the top of a nearby headstone. "Take it easy, dude. Look…why don't we go back to the house? Maybe they've figured something out?"
"Yeah, sure."
As they walked back towards the main road, a car horn blared behind them. They turned to see Oz pull up.
"Hey where are you guys headed?"
"Buffy's. She's disappeared."
"Get in."
By the time they reached the house, Giles, Willow and Xander were on their way out the front door. Faith rolled the window down. "Where are you going?"
"Back to the school," Giles replied.
"Giles thinks something all hellmouth-y might have happened," Willow added.
"Get in. It'll be faster than walking."
Willow averted her gaze as she climbed in. Things between her and Oz were still shaky at best. The werewolf looked down to Giles.
"You go on ahead. There are some things I need to pick up at home."
Oz gunned the engine, speeding off down the street as Giles turned to give Joyce a sympathetic look.
"We'll find her. I promise."
As the Scoobies entered the library, a solitary figure watched them before moving down the hallway out of sight.
--
Her eyes opened slowly, a fuzzy image greeting her. She blinked a time or two and her vision cleared. She saw a window with soft curtains billowing in the breeze. The sound of a fire crackled somewhere behind her. She tried to sit up but winced in pain. Her ribs hurt more than she remembered. Buffy eased herself back down against the pillows and resigned herself to rest. She'd need her strength. Footsteps echoed on wood as someone approached. On instinct, she started to sit up.
"Lay still. You're hurt." The man from the street bent down beside her, offering her a cup of tear.
"I'll be fine."
"I think not. Not if you don't rest. Here, drink this."
She took the cup and gingerly took a sip. It tasted faintly of ginger and mint. She gently placed it on the table just within her reach and took in the man before her. Something about him seemed familiar. Perhaps it was the eyes? Or the voice? Her head was still a little too hazy know for sure.
"Thank you…for saving me."
A kind smile. "You are most welcome."
Buffy took several deep breaths, feeling the tea's warmth beginning to spread through her. Her hands absently toyed with the blanket draped over her midsection.
"Can I ask you something?" she asked.
He nodded.
"Where am I?"
"My home."
"And where's that?"
His brow furrowed. "London. My, did you hit your head?"
Buffy reached a hand to rub her head. "I guess so…harder than I thought."
"I don't wish to sound indelicate but you are dressed strangely. Perhaps, you are not from London?"
"Yeah…you could say that."
They lapsed into silence for a while, Buffy sipping tea and her rescuer watching over her. He sat in a chair, small book in hand. She watched him scribbling furiously on the pages. Buffy took the time to properly examine the room around her. It was old but pleasant…homey described it best.
"Uh…I'm sorry…I don' think I got your name," she said, trying to get his attention.
He looked up, setting hiss book aside. "How absolutely inconsiderate of me. My deepest apologies. My name is William."
"William…I'm…" A pause. She was getting the distinct impression that she was not only in London but it was most definitely not 1998. Buffy would not fit in. "I'm Anne….Anne Summers."
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Summers."
Before Buffy could say anything more, a woman came into view. She looked tired and the skin sagged around her eyes. She wore a night dress and cap.
"William…what is…who is this?" She gave Buffy an excited look.
William was on his feet in an instant. "Mother. Don't be alarmed. This is Anne. We met this evening out by the pub."
Buffy struggled to her feet, extending a hand to William's mother. "William saved me from being…assaulted."
His mother lightly shook Buffy's hand before falling into a coughing fit. William ushered her to a chair and poured a glass of water. She took the glass with shaking hands, tilting it to her lips. William watched her as she swallowed, his hand still gripping the water pitcher.
"Is…is she ok?" Buffy asked.
"I'm alright," his mother gasped after a few gulps of water and some coughing. She shooed her son away as he hovered nervously.
Buffy looked out the window, taking in the darkness of the sky and she couldn't help but wonder how long she'd been unconscious. "How long was I was asleep?"
"A few hours. You needed to sleep."
She reached up to touch her neck. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was watching her, hunting her. He'd tasted her. Buffy caught William gazing at her in concern as she lightly massaged the puncture wounds.
"Come, why don't we get you comfortable for the night."
He offered his hand to her, pulling her to her feet. She tried to hide the pain in her ribs but he could see how slowly she moved.
"I'll…I'll be ok. Just…hurts a little."
"Don't worry. We'll get you fixed up right and proper come morning."
Together, they moved up to the second floor and into a spare room. The bed looked warm and inviting and Buffy suddenly felt drowsy. She shouldn't be tired. She'd been unconscious for several hours. Still, her body urged her closer to the bed and its welcoming softness. Without a word William lifted her onto the bed.
"Thank you again…for being so kind."
"You're most welcome Miss Summers. Good night."
"Good night."
He watched her pull the bedcovers up to her chin before backing out o the room. He left the door ajar as he returned to the sitting room. His mother gazed absently into the dying embers in the hearth.
"Mother, perhaps you should retire to bed as well."
She looked at him with a gentle smile. "Yes. I think I will." She stood. "But tell me something, my dear."
"Yes?"
"This young woman, where did you find her?"
William reached out to place a hand on his mother's shoulder, as if to reassure her. "Don't fret, Mother. She means us no harm. She needed rescuing."
"My sweet William, always so kind and gentle."
He ushered her to the master bedroom and gave her a kiss on the cheek before bidding her good night. "Sleep well."
As he returned to his own room he couldn't help but think of Buffy. She was certainly a beautiful young woman, if a bit strange in her manner of dress. But who was he to make such judgments? He readied for bed, his mind filling with hypothetical musings. A part of him hoped she would take time to heal. He wished to get to know her. There was something about her that seemed almost unreal.
"Who are you, Anne Summers?" he murmured as he peered into the spare room.
She lay still on her back, her chest rising and falling evenly with sleep. Just as he made to shut the door she gave a soft moan and rolled to her side. He could see the pain wrinkle her brow as she let out a breath. He lingered a moment more before leaving her to slumber.