Buffy gazed into her mother's hazel eyes. "I think so, Mom." She tried a grin. "It's not going to be easy, though. Will says I've got a Romeo and Juliet thing. Kinda tough to pull out of the whole doomed love."

"Try. Hard," her mother replied dryly.

"I will. Suggestions on how to get the ball rolling?" Part of the Slayer was overwhelmed by the conversation. She'd always been close to her mother, but this felt different somehow.

Unfortunately, the older Summers shook her head. "Sorry, honey. I'm afraid my experience with brushing off two-hundred year old already dead boyfriends isn't the best."

Making a face at the older woman, Buffy replied, "You aren't going to let that go, are you?"

"No, dear, I don't think so." They shared a laugh. "You should go, honey. Mr. Giles and Willow are researching in the library. I'm sure they could use a new pair of eyes by now."

"Research. The best way to start any day." Stretching, the shorter blonde wrapped an arm around the other woman. "You're the best, Mom." At Joyce's disbelieving look, Buffy reaffirmed. "Hey, we don't always agree on stuff, but come on! How many other parents would be OK with their kid being the Slayer, dating her sworn enemy, and having friends on the lam from the cops?"

Joyce laughed. "Well, when you put it that way…" The two hugged and reentered the Mansion. In deference to the still sleeping Faith, Mrs. Summers commented in a near whisper, "I'll stay here until school's out. I have coverage at the gallery until five."

"OK. One of use will be here by then." She grimaced. "Probably me. I need to have that talk with Angel." Suddenly feeling ten again, she mumbled, "Love you, Mom," and bolted from the Mansion.

Buffy tapped her pencil on the book in front of her, mind not fully engaged in yet another session of Ascension research. Two days ago, her entire world had been focused on surviving long enough to take Angel to the Prom and graduate from high school. Survival was still high on her mental to do list, but the rest of the teenage coming of age activities no longer held much appeal.

"Any luck?" Giles enquired, emerging from his office looking tired and rumpled.

The four Scoobies gathered around the table shook their heads.

"Marvelous." He snatched off his glasses and began furiously polishing them. "The day of the Mayor's Ascension is fast approaching and we still don't know what to expect."

Xander closed his own tome with the thump. "What about those pages from the Book Faith gave Will? She risked her life for those. Don't tell us they're worthless."

Perhaps sensing how close they all were to a breakdown, Giles approached the table and sat down. "No, Xander. On the contrary. We now know the Ascension refers to the transformation of a human into a demon who is the living embodiment of an Immortal."

"Sounds pretty bad," Buffy lamented. "But, hey, at least we know more than we did yesterday." Her Watcher looked at her in disbelief. "Wow. You need some more sleep or something, Giles. You're even grumpier than usual."

"Buffy-"

The Briton's angry retort was interrupted by a shout from Willow. "I found him!" She waved at the screen of her laptop.

"Found who, Will?" Buffy moved around the table, peering over the redhead's shoulder. A grey-haired man in a striped shirt and bow tie gazed back at her. "Hey, did you dump Oz? Is this your new date for the Prom?"

Willow blushed. "No!" She looked mortified. "I'm pretty sure this is the man the Mayor wanted Faith to kill."

Buffy lost track of the conversation. Kill someone? That bastard actually wanted her to deliberately kill a human?

"How can you be sure?" Giles inquired.

"Well, I can't be completely sure, but I finally hacked the Mayor's computer system. Um, OK, I've been able to access the phone records, at least. " She grinned. "In the last week, he's called Professor Worth," a slim finger pointed to the man on the screen, "over two dozen times. I checked. The good professor is a Volcanologist."

"Intriguing." Giles stared at the screen, lost in thought.

"Hey, Will, wanna tell the rest of us why a guy who studies Vulcans is important?" Xander inquired.

Absently, Giles responded to the question. "Not Vulcans, my boy. Volcanoes. The professor studies volcanoes." Shaking himself, the Watcher patted Willow on the shoulder. "Well, done, my dear. I believe I'll pop over to his office and see if I can discover what information he has. Until then, I'd say you lot need to head to class." He gathered an armful of books and reshelved them on the way to his office.

The teens stared after him. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" Xander asked no one in particular.

"Well," Oz responded laconically, "is it really thinking? Or just acting like a typical high school student?"

"Good point." Xander got up and stretched. "Your house, Buff? I'll grab doughnuts on the way."

The Slayer nodded. "Perfect. Mom's at the Mansion with Faith, so we can take over the kitchen. Will, walk with me?"

Sensing a best friend talk in the works, the novice witch smiled at her boyfriend. "Why don't you go with Xander, Baby? I'm sure he can use a hand with the food. Get enough for Faith and Mrs. Summers and we can run them by on the way home, later." She jammed her laptop into her bag and stood up. "Ready when you are, Buffy."

"Let's motor." Buffy ignored the raised eyebrows at Faith's old saying. As the two girls snuck out of the library, the blonde grabbed her friend's hand, linking their fingers. "So, things got a bit intense with Mom this morning."

"About Faith? I'm sorry. She didn't even listen when I said I'd watch Faith. It was like-"

"Not Faith." Buffy slowed their pace, staring moodily at her shoes.

Willow tucked long red hair behind her ear and regarded her brooding friend. "Buffy? If not Faith, then who?"

"Angel."

"Oh." Willow regarded the Slayer hesitantly. "I thought your mom was OK with Angel?"

"Me, too." Buffy smiled sadly. "But we were wrong. She thinks he's too old; that he's all wrong for me. Basically, the normal mom objections to a boyfriend, but it's all made worse by the Slayer/vampire thing."

"But…but she's wrong, Buffy. You and Angel-"

"-shouldn't be together, Will."

Faith opened her eyes, expecting to see one of the Scoobies standing guard, but the room was empty. He body ached, but the pain was manageable. The brunette slowly sat up. The heavy black drapes that normally covered the windows had been pulled back. Sunlight poured into the austere room. Guess Angel ain't here. She crawled out of the bed and stumbled to the French doors, peering out. The courtyard looked hard and barren in the bright light, and the Slayer squinted.

Her stomach rumbled, and Faith cursed the biggest side effect of her calling: the Hunger. She needed to eat, soon. Unfortunately, the young brunette had never been on a tour of the large home. After several false starts, her enhanced sense of smell picked up the scent of bacon frying. Nearly drooling, she hurried down halls and around corners like Bugs Bunny chasing down carrots. Despite the enticing odor, she hesitated outside the kitchen door, not sure if she was up to another Benefits of Redemption chat with Buffy's boyfriend. Finally, giving in to the demands of her stomach, she pushed open the door – and breathed a sigh of relief.

Mrs. Summers turned strips of bacon in a large skillet. "Smells good, Mrs. S."

The older woman looked over her shoulder and smiled. "Perfect timing, Faith. Have a seat, and I'll have breakfast on the table in a minute."

"Yeah." Not sure how to act, the Dark Slayer ambled over to the large table and dropped tiredly into a chair. "Um, you the only one here?"

"For the moment. Well, I think Angel's upstairs, sleeping, but I haven't seen or heard him all morning. Buffy and the rest of the gang are at school." She placed eggs, bacon, and a stack of toast on a plate before delivering the feast to her companion. "Think this will be enough, honey? I've got a little more bacon and a few eggs left."

It took all her willpower to keep from face planting in the food and answer the question. "It's more than enough." She took a bite and nearly groaned. Damn, this was good. With no regard to manners, she began shoveling the breakfast down as fast as she could. After clearing most of the plate, the teen noticed Joyce watching her in open amusement. Her muscles tightened, and the old defenses snapped into place. "Kinda surprised B and the Super Friends didn't leave me chained to the wall. After all," she bared her teeth in a mocking smile, "I might get up to more evil deeds."

"Oh, stop it. Buffy might be blonde enough to fall for that, but you don't fool me." Joyce left her position by the stove and joined Faith at the table. "Finish your breakfast before it gets cold."

Flushing, Faith stared at her plate and slowly worked her way through the remaining eggs and toast. Finally full, she leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Thanks, Mrs. S. That was way better than the bag of popcorn your daughter provided last night."

Picking up the empty plate and heading for the sink, Joyce commented, "Be glad she didn't try anything more complicated. She might have managed to burn down the Mansion." At Faith's disbelieving laugh, Joyce said, "Buffy may be a force to be reckoned with in the demon world, but put her in the kitchen, and nothing is safe." She smiled at the young girl's open merriment. "I did some exploring while you napped. There's a bathroom just down the hall. Why don't you go clean up while I make a grocery list for later?"

"Yeah. That sounds good." Faith glanced at the filthy clothes she was still wearing. "Think Fang's got anything I could borrow? I don't really want to wear these another day."

The older woman shook her head. "He might. But I don't think an all-black wardrobe will help your new image." Hazel eyes held the brunette's puzzled brown ones. "It's time to grow up, dear. It's time to stop playing at the world-wise street tough, and start being a Slayer. I stopped and picked up some jeans and shirts, along with the food, on the way here this morning. They're waiting for you in the bathroom."

"What I wear ain't got anything to do with being a Slayer," Faith fired back. She might be off her game thanks to the Mayor's boys, but she didn't have to take this crap.

"You're right. You could wear summer dresses and sandals like Buffy, and you'd still be a warrior," Joyce responded. "It matters to you, though, if you'd just admit it. The leather, the attitude – it's how you see yourself. Who taught you that anyway, Faith? Why can't you get past the 'Bad Girl' persona and let the real you out to play?"

It was just too much. Shaking with a mixture of rage, embarrassment, and grief, Faith exploded out of the chair. "Who the fuck made you my mother?"

"No one, Faith. That's the problem. You need a mother, and a father, too. People who care and won't let you just brush them off with an airy 'five by five' and a cocky smirk." Joyce moved into the Slayer's personal space, staring down at her.