Joyce had wept into the afghan for awhile after Emma had gone upstairs after Buffy. The whole mess was just so awful, and it kept getting worse. First, Buffy had been sneaking out and getting into fights, lying about where she'd been and what she'd been doing, leaving her suspicious of wild boys, careless sex, and the chance of either becoming a grandmother years too soon or her daughter trying to arrange an abortion. Then Hank had wanted to put her in a mental institution. She'd hoped that moving across the country, away from all the bad influences and wild boys would help, but Buffy had started sneaking out again. Except that it wasn't quite the way Joyce had thought. Instead of friends being bad influences, there were obsessive stalkers babbling about demons and destiny. Her daughter was fighting, fighting what she was convinced were demons and vampires, and just as convinced that these fights would be the death of her. What could she do in this mess?
Drawing in a ragged breath, Joyce reminded herself that she wasn't alone. She had Emma, and Emma was going to help. She'd already promised to help deal with the British stalker, and however many more stalkers like him were out there, ready and eager to violate Buffy's privacy and send her to her doom. She'd promised to arrange lessons in how to fight, lessons for all three of them.
Reminded of just how upset her eldest had been, Joyce wiped at her eyes and tried to find Emma. Emma would know if Buffy was ready to talk, or if she still needed some time to herself. More productive, Emma might have a few other useful ideas that could help Buffy, and there was no reason not to ask her about those ideas.
There was a light in Emma's home office, her friend sitting in front of a computer that had a dark background and a pair of gleaming silver swords. Wondering just what Emma had been doing, Joyce asked, "Has she calmed down any?"
"She's mostly asleep, I'd suggest letting her sleep if she can manage it. Talk to her in the morning, let her stay home if she wants. I've ordered a batch of swords and axes that she'll be able to use if she does keep up her demon slaying. I'll be able to talk to Walter tomorrow about giving her some lessons with them, and I'll be able to talk to someone else about some hard to notice armor for her to wear. That will not only be easier on her wardrobe but help keep her safer," Emma shook her head. "You've been through a lot already, Joyce. The last thing you need is for one of your girls to end up in a hospital or worse because of something as simple as not wearing armor."
"What do we do about these Watchers? I know you said you handled the one who's been following her. But if there's a lot of them, and they are convinced that Buffy's their chosen sacrifice, then they'll send someone else. I'd rather not have any of us get in trouble for whatever you did," Joyce reached out, her hand resting on Emma's shoulder.
"You're absolutely right that they'll send someone else to watch their destined warrior. What we do next will depend on what sort of person they send. I'm willing to work with someone if they'll treat Buffy and us properly, giving Buffy some basic respect, privacy, and crediting her with feelings, concerns, and goals. And us as having more rights to Buffy and determining her future than they do. They won't like what happens if they won't do that for her… for us," Emma shook her head, and leaned back, her hand reaching up to rest over Joyce's arm.
"As much as I'd love for them to behave in a sensible and respectful manner, I don't think I'm optimistic enough not to want plans for people behaving badly," Joyce sighed, leaning forward so that her weight was against Emma's chair, her hand resting on Emma's arm. Fragments of mystery and crime novels and countless film noir flickered through her mind, giving the ideas of offers she couldn't refuse, and people being threatened or killed to try to force Buffy into line with someone else's wishes. Half shaped images of reputations ruined and businesses burned to the ground in mysterious arson. "And we both know that some people take things to ugly extremes."
"I do know, Joyce. I have a very good idea just how ugly things can get," Emma paused, her eyes fixed on the computer screen. "I'm prepared to be just as vicious as they are, but I'll try not to be taking the first shot this time."
Part of Joyce wanted to ask what Emma meant by 'this time' while another part insisted that she was probably far happier not knowing. Considering what Emma had admitted to doing to Astrid – not that the meddling woman hadn't deserved it, but it had still been quite ruthless. Emma had also admitted to more or less breaking the mind of Buffy's stalker… who had been taking pictures of Buffy near the locker room, so he deserved it as well. "Should I assume that you have measures in place for your company, your school, and the mansion?"
"Of course I do, darling. I think I'd like to swing by the art gallery that you've been working at, just to make sure. If Ms. Adler is who I think she is, then attempting to cause her problems would be a dreadfully poor choice for these Watchers. If she isn't, then I can arrange something for her gallery."
Joyce frowned, thinking about what Emma had just said and a few of the little things that she'd seen from Misty. "She admitted to being a mutant, and divorced. I also told her that I was quite jealous that she had a grown son and could still pass for someone who's only in her mid twenties."
"She admitted to being a mutant?" Emma paused, and after a few moments asked in a soft voice, "What was the name of the artist you were arranging a showing for this time?"
"Her wife, a woman named Irene Adler." Joyce gave a small smile, remembering the way they had seemed so smitten with each other, the way Misty's eyes had lit up when she'd seen Irene, the smile when she'd talked about her wife, who she thought was the most wonderful woman in the world.
"Was that television glare, or does Misty have a bluish cast to her skin?" Emma mused.
"Not normally, though she did pick one up when she got upset at that one news clip. It went away again when she calmed down… I'm not sure she realized that I saw that," Joyce shook her head, and then admitted, "She's quite pretty, though I do find myself preferring one particular blonde nowadays."
Emma snickered, shook her head, and snickered again, "I almost hope they do try to bother her and her gallery!"
"Shall I leave you in here, snickering and plotting? I think I'll go make sure Dawn's working on her homework, and we have dinner at six. I was planning to take a shower after I talk to Dawn…" Joyce straightened up, her hand sliding up over Emma's arm and eventually away. She gave a tiny smirk, and pictured herself in the luxurious shower, warm water cascading over her body, a loofah full of scented bubbles sliding over her skin. Feeling a bit nervous, she offered, "Maybe you could join me with that?"
Joyce did pause in the doorway, glancing back at Emma. Seeing that Emma was sitting there, her reflection in the monitor looking rather stunned, Joyce smiled. If she was lucky, that was a pleasantly surprised stunned look. Maybe even a pleasantly surprising and splendid idea look.
End part 22.
Joyce tried not to blush as she walked into the dining room, a half step behind Emma. Her hair was still damp, and was soaking into the back of her blouse, with a few tendrils wrapping around her neck. They were late, and she could see Dawn and Buffy both sitting at the table.
"We were starting to wonder if you got lost in this big house of Emma's," Buffy quipped, and then frowned. "Why is your hair wet?"
"No, I didn't get lost," Joyce insisted, feeling her face grow warm. Maybe Dawn was a bit young to hear about just what had caused the delay… Now how to distract the girls from wondering what she had done to be late that also involved water and Emma? No, not the whole mess about Buffy, fighting monsters, and crazy stalkers. "Dawn, did you still want ballet lessons?"
With her head nodding so much that Joyce was reminded of a bobble head doll, Dawn grinned, "Of course I still want ballet lessons! And Mrs. Stepford suggested that I might want to take some riding lessons, she said there was a good stable that she could recommend for me."
"I can arrange ballet lessons, and you'll be starting some self defense lessons as well," Emma commented. "One of the instructors at the school will be working with Buffy on karate lessons, though if you're interested in ballet we might want to find a different style for you to study. Savate or Muay Thai, perhaps. Why don't we see how you adjust to those lessons before we add horseback riding to the mix?"
"Why am I going to be learning martial arts? I don't get into trouble," Dawn asked, glancing at Buffy when she mentioned trouble.
"It has more to do with the fact that you're staying here with me than any belief that you deliberately seek out trouble. Joyce and I would rather avoid having someone kidnap you to provide leverage to force us to act in accordance to their wishes," Emma countered.
"But.." Dawn linked, and then stopped, taking a sip of water as she frowned. "Is this because you have a bazillion dollars? And a school? And a company?"
"A good part of it," Emma gave a brittle smile. "We already had someone stalking Buffy. He had photographs taken of her about town."
Buffy shuddered, and mumbled something that Joyce didn't catch.
"Buffy and I will also be taking lessons, Dawn. It isn't just you. If we're lucky, the lessons just keep us in shape and help you work on your coordination. I could be quite happy with nobody attempting to kidnap me or either one of you girls," she tried to smile, doubting it looked any more natural than Emma's.
"Someone tried to grab Buffy? Who, why?" Dawn looked up, her blue eyes going wide.
"We didn't get a chance to question him. Apparently something set him off, and he went to a police officer and started babbling about stalking a girl. When the officer followed him back to his apartment, there were… a rather large number of pictures of Buffy. They have him in a facility for the mentally disturbed while their attorneys try to figure out the next step," Emma's voice was full of dismay and disapproval.
Dawn began, "Well then, if they have the guy in custody…"
"There will be another one, and another. There will always be someone who wants to convince you to do something. Some of them will try logic and reason; some will try emotional appeals and attempt to gain your pity. Others will offer money, political favors, or various recreational aids. Still others will try kidnapping, threats and blackmail."
"Not everyone asking for a bit of assistance is someone dreadful," Joyce glanced at Emma, remembering their own first meeting. She'd been newly arrived at the college campus and had asked the attractive blond if she could help her figure out where Kenmore Hall was, so she could attend her orientation meeting.
Emma smiled, and conceded, "True, you never asked for anything more dreadful than class notes or a second copy of term paper rubrics."
"Does this mean I have to tell Mindee and Sophie that I can't stay Friday? They asked if I could sleep over, and maybe have ice cream and paint toenails..." Dawn was frowning, looking from Joyce to Emma and back to Joyce.
"I don't think that's quite what Emma was meaning, Dawn. I suppose you can sleep over with the Stepford girls, if you do well on that test you have tomorrow. But we mean it about the lessons, you will be taking some sort of self defense," Joyce mused. Part of her wondered if these Watchers might try to grab Dawn to use as leverage to gain control of Buffy… if they would try to set another stalker after Buffy… if they would use a smarter strategy next time.
They talked about book reports and the American Revolution over a delightful chicken dinner, and Joyce found herself lingering over the desert, dainty strawberry tarts with a white chocolate froth. Dawn slipped away first, smiling as she mentioned a paper with Sophie and then muttering about spiders, webs, and vocabulary words.
Emma leaned back in her chair, a tart sitting untouched on a plate in front of her. She was watching Buffy, with an expression that was almost a smile.
Meanwhile, Buffy was glaring at Emma, occasionally glancing at her mother with an expression that was more bewildered than anything else before going back to a firm glare directed at Emma.
Joyce didn't understand why Buffy would be glaring at Emma now. She'd been distraught about the Watchers and the Slaying, distraught and terrified. Emma's talk with her had gone alright, leaving Buffy hopeful and willing to hear about plans for help. Where had that angry glare come from?
"What are you doing with my mom?" the words were clipped out between clenched teeth as Buffy continued to glare.
Joyce winced, part of her wanting to know how Buffy had figured it out, another part insisting that the pair of them arriving late for dinner and both damp and smelling like strawberry body wash had to be a big clue, and another part determined not to share any details with her daughter.
"Being rude will not make things easier for you, Buffy," Emma's voice was calm, and she still had that amused smirk.
"Trying to schmooze my mother will not help you with… whatever. It especially won't help with stuffy British guys babbling about destiny and monsters, because I don't think they'll care." Buffy's fists were resting on the table.
Emma chuckled, "I assure you that what is going on between Joyce and myself has nothing to do with those delusional stalkers, and it has nothing to do with the abilities that you have, which may or may not tie in to this Slayer idea that the Watchers have been nattering about."
"Then I'm supposed to believe that this is all…." Buffy's words stopped, her lips moving as she struggled to find the right words.
"What is going on between Emma and I is the result of me deciding that it's finally time to try to be happy. I didn't have the courage to try when we were in college; now I do," Joyce tried not to glare at Buffy. Tried not to reveal the way it hurt to hear her daughter talk like that, as if the only reason Emma might do anything with her would be part of a plot…
"You were happy with Dad." Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, and frowned at her mother.
"No I wasn't. Hank didn't listen to me, he never supported my hopes and plans. He wanted me to be there, supporting his career and minding the house," Joyce closed her eyes, refusing to tell Buffy how Hank had been so disappointed that they hadn't had a son, that there wouldn't be a Hank Summers Junior… No child deserved to hear that they disappointed their parents by the very nature of what they were.
"So you divorced him and got a girlfriend? He spent years supporting you and this is what happens?" Buffy shook her head, eyes damp, "I knew it was because of me… because of the fights. Because I'm the Slayer."
"Hank Summers kept us in a nice house because he wanted a nice house. He wanted the expensive furnishings and the fancy cars, it would be bad for his reputation at work if his wife drove a beat up Volkswagon. He did everything he could to make my career more difficult than it had to be. And your father was never faithful to me," Joyce could feel her nails digging into her palms, and realized just how tightly she had clenched her hands.
"Are you saying that Dad cheated on you?" Buffy's jaw dropped, and her eyes were very wide.
"I caught him twice before you were born. Three secretaries left the company to hide or cover up their relationships with him. I think he paid another of his former girlfriends to have an abortion, or perhaps to give up the child for adoption. He may have had an affair with Cora," Joyce sighed, feeling angry once more that she had been forced to stay with someone who could do all of that. Had been forced to swallow his lies and pitiful excuses.
"Cora?" Buffy blinked in confusion.
"The woman in the pink house, with the Persian cats, the fake nails, and insisting that everyone call her Cassandra?" Joyce arched one eyebrow at her daughter. "The one that your friends on the cheerleading squad called that skeezy pink woman with the ugly cats?"
"Uggh!"
"I personally hope that she was just making it up, as she did with more than a few of her stories," Joyce admitted.
"Then why did you marry him in the first place?" Buffy shook her head.
"Astrid wanted Joyce out of the way, and so she meddled with your mothers mind to make her accept all of Hank's false apologies, his pathetic excuses, the lame lies about why he missed their dates or had someone else's lipstick on his collar. In Astrid's opinion, Joyce was too close to me, had too much influence over what I did… and she didn't want anyone else to be able to have power over me. She took actions to remove Joyce from my life in such a way that no authorities would suspect anyone had encouraged things. Joyce wasn't the only one that Astrid decided to remove," Emma sighed, and shook her head before muttering, "Damned woman let having power go to her head. She thought that because she could do things that not everybody could, that she had the right to do whatever she wanted and that nobody could stop her."
"Do things?" Buffy whispered.
"She was another telepath. She could literally change the way you saw the world, change your opinions, push you into doing things that she wanted… and she thought that I would be the perfect assistant for her goals."
"Is she still out there?" Buffy asked. "And… does that mean that she wanted you away from Mom?"
"She wanted Joyce to leave me alone, wanted all of my friends to leave me alone. Astrid's goal was for me to have nobody to turn to except for her. Astrid has been dealt with, and she won't cause anybody problems anymore," Emma had that cold smile again. "I don't intend to be anyone's minion."
"Right… no minion Frost." Buffy shook her head, and then frowned, looking towards her mother. "So does this mean… are you… Mom? Are you…"
"Emma and I are… I suppose you could say that we're dating." Joyce took a bite of the strawberry tart, and smiled towards Emma. "That should be enough for now."
"Right… I think that's about all my brain can take now…" Buffy stood up and walked out of the dining room, shaking her head and muttering things that Joyce couldn't hear.
"Give her time. The idea that you're dating anyone will take a while for her to accept,' Emma reached over, resting her hand on Joyce's arm. "Even if that's the only thing we said that she focuses on, it'll take a while."
"I know, Em. It's just…" Joyce sighed, and took another bite of the tart. She wasn't certain that Buffy would accept the idea of her dating Emma. Not only not her father, not even a man. Buffy could be rather conservative at times. And she wasn't at all certain how Dawn would take it… "Does life ever get easier?"
"I doubt it."
End part 23.