The anger had faded to depression by the time Buffy clomped her way into Joyce's bedroom. Sudden exhaustion pulling at her, Buffy announced, "Giles is at the library. I told him we'd be there in a couple of hours." Avoiding any eye contact with her mother or Faith, Buffy dropped into Joyce's desk chair and closed her eyes. Just one day. That's all. Couldn't she have just one day to be happy?
"B?" She could hear worry in Faith's voice. A flicker of warmth tried to worm its way through the leaden cold in Buffy's body.
"We're good, Faith. Just…" Buffy smiled bitterly. "I forgot for a minute that I don't get to do happy. Give me some time to readjust my internal to do list for today." She swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat, and willed away the tears burning her eyes.
Lost in her internal struggle, Buffy barely registered the sound of two pairs of feet shuffling before one pair finally strode out of the room toward the bathroom.
A warm hand cupped Buffy's cheek and she jerked in surprise, eyes flying open. "That wasn't fair, Buffy." Joyce's hazel eyes showed her unhappiness. "Faith didn't deserve your attitude."
"What?" Buffy sat forward in disbelief. "I didn't do anything." The denial came out in a whine, and she flushed. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. "Mom, I really didn't do anything. It's business as usual, and, damn it, I'm so tired of never getting a day off!"
She had expected sympathy. There was none. "I understand that, honey. Welcome to being a single mom." Buffy flinched away from Joyce's glare and the truth in her words. Relentlessly, Joyce kept talking. "Faith was just trying to help. You were all smiles and kisses earlier. When you came up the stairs, though, all you thought about was your ruined day."
The words hurt. Pulling away from Joyce, Buffy sprang from the chair and stalked to the window. She wrapped her arms tightly around her chest. "It is ruined." She wanted to hide away, just enjoy being with Faith without demons or wanna-be demons interfering. Why didn't her mom understand that?
"She's still here, Buffy. In the bathroom getting ready to help you fight a man she loved." Joyce's voice pounded at her, in spite of the quiet tone. "You want more than that?"
Buffy wanted to scream "Yes!" at the top of her lungs. She wanted more. She wanted it all. Cuddles and kisses, wild sex, gentle sex. A life. Her breath caught. A nice, normal, boring life.
She'd waited too long to reply. "Have you even thought about what Faith is going through?" Joyce gripped her shoulder, pulling her around. Buffy squirmed inside at the disapproval in her mother's eyes.
She hadn't thought about Faith and the Mayor. She didn't need to. Buffy didn't have to imagine Faith's pain. Instead, all she had to do was remember Angel's disbelieving look at the sword in his stomach. Her own whispered, "I love you," still hanging in the air between them. Buffy knew exactly what Faith was facing.
Shame sent a wave of red over her cheeks. She straightened. That wasn't happening, not to Faith. Somehow, she'd make sure Faith didn't have to look into Wilkin's eyes and deliver the fatal blow. Buffy said softly, "Sorry, Mom. I forgot for a while. It's all clear in my head again. I'll talk to Faith when she gets back."
"Oh, honey." Joyce was all support now. The edge missing from her voice. Buffy smiled slightly. Between the two of them, they had mood swings down pat. Mean Mom had become Mushy Mom in less than ten seconds. Joyce wrapped her in a tight hug, and Buffy returned it with interest.
Holding up the baggy, too long pants, Faith stumbled down the hall. "Um, Mrs. S? Do you have a belt I could use?" She stopped at the threshold. Buffy and Joyce were hugging each other. "Hey, did I miss something? What happened?" Fuck, she'd only been gone a few minutes. Tension snaked along the muscles in her back and shoulders.
They both looked at her, eyes red rimmed and teary. Biting her lip, Faith took a hesitant step back. "Did somebody die?" Two headshakes had her relaxing a little. "Should I come back later? I mean, you guys look kinda involved."
"No, Faith, come on in." Buffy smiled at her, and Faith felt the tight muscles in her shoulders relax completely. "Mom and I were having a girl moment. It's where you get really emotional and have to hug."
Still not entirely convinced things were fine, Faith crept into the room a few steps, hovering near the door. "Whatever, B. Just didn't want to get involved in the crying and wailing." She clutched her pants tightly, staring at the wall behind Buffy's head. Faith was afraid of calling up the frighteningly detached Buffy of a few minutes ago. "I'm all ready, if I can borrow a belt or something. These ain't gonna stay up on their own." Not thinking, she opened her hands. The pants slithered to the floor.
"Nice, Faith. Flash my mom, why don't you?" Buffy inquired. Faith saw a grin on her face.
Realizing "her" Buffy was back, Faith smirked at the question. Gesturing to the rest of her outfit, Faith replied, "No worries, B. The shirt's so long, I might just wear it as a dress." Her mood lifted further when two snorts of laughter greeted her statement. "Might add a little fun to the Scooby meeting, too." She paused, watching for Joyce's reaction out of the corner of her eye. "Can you just see the X-Man when I waltz in like this?"
"Faith," Joyce's voice warned. Faith waited. Had she finally crossed Joyce's line? "It's not nice to make fun of Xander. He can't help his hormones." She walked past Faith and opened a dresser drawer. "Here. Put this on, and we'll go."
Bemused, Faith took the narrow belt and threaded it through the loops on her borrowed pants. She was so focused on trying to figure Joyce out, she almost missed Buffy's stunned remark, "We? What we? Me and Faith are going to meet Giles. You are not part of the we, Mom."
Keys jangled, and Faith managed to pull her thoughts together. She grinned. Joyce ignored Buffy just the way she had ignored her earlier. Purse in hand, Mrs. Summers strode into the hallway. "The Jeep leaves in five, girls. I'll drive myself and you can walk if you aren't there."
Buffy threw her hands in the air, mumbling under her breath. "Easy, B." Pulling the belt tight and rearranging the excess fabric, Faith worked on calming the other Slayer. "What's the big? I mean, your mom is part of the gang now, right?"
"No!" Buffy shook her head, hair flying.
Holding out a tentative hand, Faith held her breath until Buffy linked their fingers. "Why ain't she?" She saw Buffy scowl and hesitated. Curiosity overcame fear of rejection for once. "Your mom could help with the research, B." Her eyes widened as a thought occurred. "You think the Mayor's gonna storm the library? Maybe hurt her?"
A tiny nod answered her questions, and she wrapped an arm around Buffy.
They started down the stairs. "The Mayor isn't coming to the library, B," Faith explained. She mentally rolled her eyes. Didn't Buffy understand? "He's winning. You and the Scoob's got nothing. He's going to sit back and watch while you panic." At least, it's what she'd do in his place.
"But what if he doesn't?" Buffy asked, leaning into her. Faith's eyes drifted almost closed, goose bumps pimpling her skin.
A little of Buffy's near-panic reached Faith. She blinked back sudden tears at the thought of Joyce getting hurt – or worse. Voice firm, she growled, "It won't happen, Buffy. We won't let it." Strong arms seized her. Grinning, dimples in plain sight, Faith teased, "Another girl moment, B?"
Hazel eyes blinked up at her, and Faith's grin softened. "You got a problem with that, F?" Buffy pressed her lips to Faith's neck before nipping the skin lightly. Faith shuddered, forgetting about everything but the body wrapped around her.
The roar of an engine shattered the mood. Buffy jerked away, diving for the door. "Mom!"
Faith was barely a step behind, pausing just long enough to close and lock the door.
Joyce smiled blandly, removing her foot from the gas pedal as they sprinted down the walkway to the Jeep. "Ready, girls?"
Faith couldn't help it. She grinned and snickered. Joyce was watching Buffy, waiting for a snippy reply. Just short of smirking, the elder Summers tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as Buffy grumbled and stomped around to the passenger seat. "Huh, guess I'm riding solo in the back then." Winking at Joyce, Faith clambered in.
The Jeep shot out of the driveway. "What's for breakfast?" Joyce called over the road noise and whipping wind.
Without even pausing to think, Faith shouted, "Doughnuts," at the same time as Buffy. She relaxed as Buffy unbent enough to giggle at their identical thoughts. Then she sat forward suddenly, surprising both Summers women. "I'm buyin', though, Mrs. S." Digging through her pants pocket, Faith fished out the money Joyce had given her the previous afternoon.
"No, honey. Use that to get yourself some clothes." Joyce caught Faith's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Just remember – no leather."
"But-" Faith broke off, dropping her eyes. How did Mrs. Summers do that? All of a sudden, she felt five again. "Right. No leather," she mumbled, stuffing the money back in her pocket.
Buffy added her two cents to the conversation. "Let's not forget the One Inch Rule, either, Faith." She flashed a big grin over her shoulder. Faith chuckled, her mood lightening. "Keep that belly button covered."
"Wow. You were actually listening when I told you that?" They all laughed at Joyce's mock-astonished question.
Doughnut boxes balanced precariously, Buffy started to shove the library doors open with her hip. She froze. Metallic clanging drifted through the thick wood. Swords. "Faith, trouble," she called down the hallway.
She dropped their breakfast on the floor, charging into the library on full alert. Seconds later, a body slammed into her back. "B, what the fuck? Why'd you stop?"
"'Cause it was a false alarm," Buffy snapped. "The Two Musketeers are at it bright and early." She glared across the room at the two nattily dressed men fencing. "I'm sure I remember Giles saying something about research, not swords at dawn."
Her ex-Watcher finally noticed them huddled in the doorway. "Ah, ladies, good morning." He smiled, blade never pausing. Blocking a thrust with a twist of his left wrist, Giles raised the book in his right hand. "I believe we may have a lead."