The first swallow made Buffy grimace. Wow. That was bitter. Still, she reminded herself, she hadn't been much of a drinker before today. Maybe she needed practice. Steeling herself against the taste, Buffy took a second sip. Ahhh. That was better. It went down smooth, and Buffy eagerly went back for more. Maybe a few more beers would help her miserable day get better.
"So… Any complaints?" Jack appeared to materialize at her elbow. He pointed at her empty beer mug. "How was it?"
Buffy stared at him for a minute. Jack's voice seemed to echo weirdly and, for a second, she didn't understand his question.
Jack frowned at her lack of response. "Damn. If it's that bad…" Slapping his towel on the bar, he dropped onto the stool next to Buffy's. "I'll have to see if I can sell it to one of the fraternities. They go through a lot of booze, and most of them aren't picky about the quality."
His intrusion into her personal space had Buffy edging away. However, her mind finally woke up. Ignoring the uneasy feelings skittering along her nerves, she patted Jack's arm. "Don't worry, Jack. It's not that bad. I stopped noticing the bitter taste after the first swallow." She sighed soundlessly in relief when he got up. Rubbing…more like wiping her hand on her thigh, Buffy continued. "In fact, I'll have another one, please."
She idly played with her empty mug while Jack ducked under the bar's pass-through. Her relaxation was gone in an instant, though, when a crash exploded behind her. The beer mug shattered in her hands, and Buffy leapt off her stool and spun toward the barroom. Heart pounding, she dropped into a defensive crouch and tensely scanned the room.
Her readiness was pointless. Slowly straightening, Buffy watched a laughing young man climb out of the remains of his chair with the help of his friends.
"Don't mind them." Jack thunked another new, full mug on the bar.
Fighting to unclench her hands and breathe normally, Buffy turned to face him.
"They're regulars." Casually clearing the shards of Buffy's first mug from the bar, Jack shook his head. "Every night, I gotta make sure at least one of them is sober enough to give the cabbie directions."
The echo was back. Buffy rubbed her right temple and climbed back on her seat. Picking up her beer, she tossed back a long drink. This time, there wasn't even a hint of bitterness in the beer.
With each successive sip, Buffy stopped thinking about Willow and Tara. By the time the mug was empty and Jack put another one in front of her, even the debacle with Parker didn't matter. Buffy hunched over her new drink and growled softy in pleasure.
Tara felt a surge in energy push against her shielding. Afraid Mrs. Summers' comment might have triggered a magical response from Willow, she reached out for the ambient energy around her and stepped out in the hall ready to do battle with her new friend to protect the older woman.
The inner battle preparation was wasted.
Willow wasn't about to level the apartment building. Instead, she stood a half-step behind Faith, holding onto her girlfriend's arm desperately.
Faith was clearly the aggressor. Hands clenched into fists, she nearly vibrated with anger. Willow's grip on her was so tight that Tara saw the white pressure marks where her fingers met Faith's skin.
"Did you have something you wanted to say, Faith?" Mrs. Summers sounded calm, as if Faith wasn't poised less than a foot away with violence on her mind. "If you do, I'd really like to hear it. I'm feeling very confused and upset at the moment, you know. Last night, Buffy told me she was going to admit everything to you – just like she'd finally done with me." Mrs. Summers sighed and rubbed a hand over her eyes. "I told her you and Willow might be surprised, even horrified…" Her hand dropped away. "But I knew you'd be there for her."
Watching the tableau with wide eyes, Tara waited for Faith to explode.
Instead, Faith's combative stance relaxed slightly. "Uh…" She hunched her shoulders and looked away from Buffy's mother.
Before Faith decided what to say, Willow dragged her to the couch and shoved Faith down. With no apparent embarrassment, she curled up against Faith's side. "I overreacted," Willow admitted softly. She stroked a hand up and down Faith's thigh, and Tara wasn't sure who the action was intended to calm – Willow or Faith. "What Buffy told us, it was like me and Cordelia all over again. I was big with the wigging, and I made Faith bring me home."
Biting her lip, Tara realized whatever she had sensed from the kitchen was gone now. She shouldn't be listening to this, and she certainly didn't need to maintain her hold on all the magic she'd gathered. Moving slowly, she edged toward the hallway and the privacy of the guest bedroom.
She managed only a few steps.
"Honey, stop sneaking away." Mrs. Summers' raised voice stopped Tara in her tracks. Feeling like a deer trapped in the proverbial headlights, she stared at the other woman. "Why don't you come join us?" came the quiet, yet determined, request.
Not in a million years, Tara said firmly. In her own mind, anyway. In reality, she stayed frozen in place, head shaking in a silent refusal.
Mrs. Summers didn't acknowledge her unspoken "no." She gently patted the empty spot next to her on the loveseat. "Please, Tara. I think we all need to clear the air about Buffy and Hemery and find a way to move on from the past."
Although there wasn't even a hint of censure in Mrs. Summers' voice, Tara flushed and ducked her head at her comment. She had been focused on Hemery and the past since meeting Buffy in the dorm room. Her head dropped lower as she realized she was responsible for the damage to Willow's friendship with Buffy, too. None of this would have happened if she and Buffy hadn't become roommates.
Reluctantly returning to the living room, Tara perched nervously next to Mrs. Summers.
Her actions earned a warm and approving smile from her seatmate. "Thank you." Mrs. Summers lightly touched Tara's hand before turning to Faith and Willow. "Now, who wants to start?"
Tara glanced up. Faith and Willow were both examining the carpet intently.
"Wonderful," Mrs. Summers said with forced cheerfulness. "I'm glad no one jumped in. I actually wanted to go first."
She had everyone's attention. Tara shifted in her seat so her back rested against the armrest and watched as Mrs. Summers' smile faded.
Tucking some hair behind her ear, Mrs. Summers settled back into the loveseat. "This will be a review for you, Willow," she finally said. She looked at Faith and then Tara. "When Buffy started at Hemery, Hank and I were well on the way to a divorce."
The words rolled over Tara. She tried not to drown in them. Divorce. Fights at home. A family breaking apart… The story wasn't entirely unexpected. After all, Tara knew very well the secrets families could hide. However, she simply couldn't reconcile the image of Buffy that Mrs. Summers described with the cruel and calculating girl she had experienced.
When Mrs. Summers fell silent, Tara cleared her throat. Was it time to add her side of the story? Her palms grew damp against the fabric of the loveseat.
"Buffy told me most of that." Willow beat Tara to it.
"Then why did you walk out on her last night?" Mrs. Summers wasted no time in questioning Willow on her actions.
Wishing she knew exactly what had happened at the Bronze the previous night, Tara stared at her hands and waited for Willow to answer.
"Red didn't walk out!" Faith exclaimed. She might have said more if Willow hadn't slapped a hand over her mouth.
Blithely ignoring the angry glare she was receiving over the top of her hand, Willow said, "I was upset, yes. We left the Bronze without Buffy, yes. But I didn't walk out like you think." The more Willow talked, the faster the words flowed. "She tome me what she did to Tara. And, even though I knew she'd been like Cordy before you moved here, I didn't know she'd been like her. Not like that."
Mrs. Summers' deep breath seemed loud in the silence left as Willow's voice faded. "Willow…" She stopped for a second. When she restarted, it was clear from the strain in her voice that what she said wasn't easy for her. "Tara, honey, I know you only remember Buffy from Hemery. What she told me last night, what she did to you, I understand why you can't see how much Buffy has changed."
The tears in Mrs. Summers' eyes had Tara huddling in on herself. That look. It was the same one her own mother had worn whenever she'd thought she'd failed to protect Tara.
She sagged in relief when that pained regard moved to Willow and Faith.
"I don't understand what you did, Willow," Mrs. Summers continued. "You and Buffy have been best friends since we moved here. The two of you have been through so much together. You've helped her build a new life, and she trusts you enough to confide all of her secrets. Even this one." She paused, and Tara heard her swallowed heavily. "When Buffy came home last night, she was scared of the way you'd react and she didn't want to tell you the truth. I encouraged her to go to you, to talk to you. I assured her you would understand and that you'd help her show Tara she wasn't that horrible person from Hemery anymore. Was I wrong to do that, Willow?"
The row of empty mugs shone dully in the lighting over the bar. Reaching out, Buffy traced the edge of the one nearest her. It was pretty. Shiny. She smiled and rubbed harder.
Responding to the force of her action, the mug toppled over with a crash.
Buffy jumped back with a cry at the loud sound. "Bad mug," she mumbled softly. "Bad mug." Glaring at it, she got comfortable on the stool again and waved a hand at Jack. "More beer."