Disclaimer: We own only Laruëalas, Jupiter, Jiana, and the twisted effigy of a plotline.

Chapter 22 – Nichi Fredericke

I woke from my nap to the sound of yelps and people scrambling, then my closet door opening and shutting firmly.

"Okay. Where are we?"

I sat up, bleary eyed. "In my room. Who are you people?" I half yawned.

"Buffy, Dawn, Xander, Willow, Giles, and Angel and Spike are in the closet." Xander snorted, drawing a Buffy Glare™. "I repeat, where are we?"

"In my room, in my house, on Griffith street. 'Scuse me a minute, I just woke up." I walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. Then I went into the pantry to call my evil friend, Jiana Heero. I dialed the number, the phone rang twice, and then Ji answered it.

"What?" she snapped.

What was her problem? "It looks like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. I had a little problem I was going to ask you for help with, but I can fix it on my own."

"Oh, Nichi, it's you! Sorry, it's been one of those days. To the extreme. Hey, why are you calling me? You never call me—I'm always the one who calls you!"

What, does she have an automatic thing where she knows I'm lying or something? "Can't a girl call her best friend without being interrogated?"

Jiana sighed heavily. "So, are you going to tell me why you called?"

Yah, it's not like she's being attacked by fiction-ish characters. "You're really in a bad mood today. What happened?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, anyway. So spill. Why'd you call?"

"Oh, I have a slight problem with some Buffy characters."

"So you've finally started writing more seriously! Yea! I'll help all I can!"

"Um . . . no. They kinda just turned up out of nowhere, and either I'm completely insane or they're real."

The next thing I heard was the phone hitting the floor and one of Ji's high screams. A moment later I heard her fumble picking up the phone. "Nichi, please tell me that you didn't say what I think you said," she said desperately.

What was her problem? "Er . . . I said that I have Buffy characters at my house."

"Oh, no, not more of them! Isn't thirty-seven enough? Do you really hate me that much, to put more here? Or did the Valar and Dende and all the other's gods get tired of them? But why me? Why me?" Her voice was breaking. "Why me?"

I waited, somewhat confused. I had woken up all of five minutes ago, and this wasn't making any sense.

Finally, she managed to get talking again. "How many, and which ones?"

"Huh?"

"How many characters, and what are their names."

"Seven. Buffy, Dawn, Xander, Willow, Giles, and Angel and Spike are in the closet," I laughed, getting the joke.

"Why are—oh, yeah. Buffy vamps don't do sunlight."

"Yeah. Sure."

"I'll be right there."

"Eh?" But she had already hung up.