"Hello my good woman, I wish to purchase a disclaimer."

"I'm a man!"

"I'm sorry, I have a cold. Now, if you would please fetch me your finest legal briefings, and summarize the position vis-à-vis copyright infringement."

"Right, here you are!"

"…I'm strangely disappointed by that."

Personal Journal of Rupert Giles

December 15, 1998

The events of last week have left us all shaken, and worse, have introduced a corrosive mistrust into the group, feeding paranoia and leaving us all uneasy.

Elliott's actions have torn a vast rent into the progress we were making with regards to incorporating Miss Lehane into our confidence, as she pulls away from the group, most notably myself. We already knew she had experienced trauma in the past, but the depth of her reaction suggests something not included in Ms. Dormer's files.

Faith pulling away has fractured the group as well. Mr. Harris has stayed at her side, exhibiting the loyalty I have come to expect from this young man, but she refuses to associate with her other peers. Buffy has felt the need to aggressively work out some of her issues, and has stepped up her patrolling, pushing herself harshly, and even going without backup on occasion. She seems tired, and as this whole issue were somehow an attack against her personally. I am afraid that I don't understand how that can be, but I long ago came to the conclusion that understanding the teenaged mind is an impossibility.

Miss Rosenberg has thrown herself deeper into her research, grabbing any strand of hope she can find to help her friends. This is not atypical for her, but as I have read over Elliott's notes, a new worry comes to light. Magic is not addictive, per say, but the influence of the Hellmouth permeates every spell we work here, making even a harmless spell potentially dangerous in the long term to the caster. Without the proper precautions, the spells would start to have a corruptive influence on their caster, leading to someone willing to practice the darkest of magics on a whim. I must verify this information, but if it is correct, then Miss Rosenberg needs to be notified at once, and take much greater care with her spellwork.

…I have done as Elliott requested, and read over all of his notes, not including those he destroyed before his…

…he did not come here with evil intent, or any knowledge of how to split the Slayer line. His journals paint his earnest character, someone who genuinely wished to protect the world from darkness, and who also cared for our younger charges. He never even felt resentment for his sister, killed by a demon when he was still a teenager, only for the Slayer at the time to save him, but not her. He did often wonder how we could strengthen the forces fighting the darkness, so fewer innocents would die. This does not forgive his actions, but, I feel, paints a tragic story to them instead.

I have reported to the council that he was slain on patrol, and cremated as per his wishes. I would hope that this will delay the cruciamentum until things settle again, but instead I receive notice that they will arrive as scheduled. Our morale is at a low ebb, and I fear that one more disaster may push us over the edge.

Joyce Summers was many things. Mother, (former) wife, business woman, and recently, part of a support network for a group of teenaged demon-fighters. While that last part was not something she'd had much experience with or training for, there was a surprising amount of overlap with being a mother.

She was appalled at what had happened with Elliott. She had let the man into her house, fed him, talked with him as a friend and equal, and then he betrays them in such a horrific manner. She could tell that all of the kids were hurt by this, especially Faith and Willow. Faith had been betrayed, kidnapped and tortured, all by someone who was supposed to look out for her, while Willow, despite having been helping Buffy for two years now, had rarely needed to deal with the gory aftermath of human death, particularly in such a vivid manner. Neither was coping terribly well, and their behavior was affecting the others. Rupert seemed to think that this was the end of the world, but that dear man was somewhat prone to overreaction.

With this in mind, she had invited everyone over for Christmas dinner. Well, invited might not be a strong enough word. She had informed them that they would be at Revello drive by no later than 4 pm on the 24th and then looked at them in a concerned, maternal way until they agreed. Willow had tried to pull off a Hanukkah bluff, as though Joyce couldn't read a calendar, Xander had said something about not leaving Faith alone before trailing off, embarrassed to not realized they were both invited, Cordelia had tried to be snooty and claim prior engagement, which worked for all of five seconds before she broke, Faith had desperately tried not to meet Joyce's eyes because the Bostonian knew she couldn't say no, Giles had caused Joyce to raise an eyebrow at him, at which point he folded like a cheap suit, and Oz had stared at her for a moment before nodding. She didn't bother telling Buffy because her daughter would be there anyhow, and this way she didn't have to deal with more excuses.

The day arrived, and people started to trickle in. Buffy was unhappy, both with being kept out of the loop, and with being forced to help in the kitchen, but she was gamely putting out hors d'oeuvres and setting the table. Willow was nervous, and babbling at anyone who held still nearby, and Faith was trying to lurk in a corner, a job made more difficult by Joyce's warm décor, so as a result, Faith was, instead, lurking in an overstuffed armchair.

When Cordelia, the last to arrive, had settled herself on the couch, Joyce stood up and looked around. People were sulking, or staring at their food, or what not, and very much not feeling festive for the season.

"That's enough!" Joyce hadn't shouted, but she was projecting loud enough to startle people, and everyone gave her their attention.

"I will not deny that you have had some very traumatic times lately, and that you've also experienced a terrible betrayal. Someone who you believed was a responsible adult in your life, someone who had fought at your side turned out to be evil, and I will never say that you do not deserve to feel hurt and angry about this. But this, this ignoring your friends and lashing out at each other and ignoring each other will not help."

She looked around, making eye contact with each person in turn. "What has happened is not something I expect you to ignore and just move past. I'm a mother, not a drill sergeant; I know that you can't just walk off the pain. But you do have to heal it. Ignoring the pain, pretending it never happened, doesn't help you. You have to face it, and deal with it. How you do so depends on you, but don't think you're alone. Turn to me, to Rupert, to each other. Talk about it, rant, scream, cry, but don't just let it fester."

As she was talking, the teens turned and looked at each other, somewhat shamefully, and started nodding. She could tell it wouldn't be this easy. Faith was still withdrawn, but she was holding Xander's hand. Willow was leaning against Buffy, and Oz…

Oz had left the room briefly, and came back with his bass. But he had another guitar case with him, which he handed to Giles. The librarian looked shocked and panicked for a moment before taking the case and opening it up.

"H-how did you know?" Oz smiled, or at least smirked kindly.

"The music scene in this town isn't that large. And my cousin works at the Espresso Bar." Giles shook his head, before slipping the strap over and tuning it.

Turning to the somewhat stunned room, Giles gave a rueful smile. "I-I do indeed play, though I hadn't planned on sharing this with you all. I had been using it as a way to relax after days spent dealing with demons. And teenagers." He received some dirty looks for that comment. "But I think now, after all this, perhaps rather than distance, we need a reminder that there are still those out there who, who love us, and care."

Nodding, he started to play…

The evening had been a success, though it hadn't fixed all ills. Everyone had been able to, at least for a while, relax in each other's company. Faith was still jumpy around him, and Willow looked green when she'd seen the cranberry sauce, and Buffy looked as though she was about to scream when the turkey ended up getting a little burnt, but no-one left early, or fought, and the pain and difficulty seemed lessened.

Giles looked up as he walked to his car, seeing, much to his shock, snow. "Happy Christmas indeed."

AN: Yes, this story still exists, and I am not dead. I will be updating this year, as opposed to 2015, as I don't have to plan my wedding this year. Ring still feels strange when I type, though. So, have a little belated Christmas cheer, and know that while things are starting to get back on track, it's not smooth sailing yet. After all, since there was no Fluke, something has to cause teenagers stress.

Second note, I made a few small changes to the last chapter, as a review pointed out that certain things seemed out of place. After some thought, I agreed.