The words on the pages didn't change, though there were just a few that she was only guessing at. That word was either fins or fine… but just a little bit earlier Buffy had been scribbling about how to identify, so Joyce suspected that fins might make more sense. If you accepted demons being real… If she accepted that there were a group of people that wanted Buffy to hunt demons.

That section said 'Merrik, mole awfull destiny'… at least, that had better be 'mole' instead of 'motel', though she was certain that they'd had that removed. Buffy'd complained that it had gotten bigger, and they'd been worried about skin cancer… But how would this Merrick have known about it?

"Scowling like that can cause wrinkles," Emma's voice came from the doorway.

"Possible stalkers spying on Buffy in Los Angeles and identifying her by a mark on her shoulder," Joyce countered. "I think I have a reason to be unhappy."

"Where on her shoulder?" Emma moved closer. "Could it have been as simple as a photograph at the beach?"

"Buffy hated that mole. She always wore things that covered it. The only places it would have been exposed were at home or in the doctor's office, unless she did more with her boyfriends than she would admit to me," Joyce explained. "We had the doctor remove it when she was twelve… we were afraid it might be turning cancerous."

"Presumably it wasn't," Emma walked closer, and glanced at the pages. "That explains a few comments from her teachers. At least she won't have to worry about people copying from her. "

"The doctor assured us that all the tests came back clean."

Emma settled beside Joyce, and started looking at some of the pages. "Hand to hand combat, swords, mentions of archer… It sounds as if these people need to step out of the sixteenth century. Have they been briefed on some very destructive inventions called firearms and cannons that make use of a dangerous substance called gunpowder? Do they even try to get rid of these demons from a distance, or do they just send a girl to go fight them?"

"We can hope that they might take a more practical approach in places without a Slayer. The other option is that they gave my daughter an exaggerated line about being the world's only defense. Then again," Joyce frowned, remembering all sorts of dreadful things from the news, "I'm not sure that giving a teenager, important destiny or not, a gun is a good idea."

"Or maybe they thought a Slayer with a modern weapon would remove them as well as the demons and vampires," Emma countered. "With a sword, she'd at least have to be close to them."

"Considering the one you dealt with, would that be a great loss?" Joyce murmured.

"We shouldn't assume that all of them are like that particular pervert. From the little that we know so far, these Watchers have considerable resources and numbers. While I'm not saying that we couldn't handle them, there's no point in making an enemy where we don't need to," Emma sighed, "And I'm reluctant to let them know everything that I can do."

"I suppose that makes sense," Joyce admitted. "Didn't you say that you'd hired investigators to look into the other people that guy was talking to? Other possible Watchers?"

"I should be getting reports Monday."

With that bit of reassurance, Joyce left to go to work at Misty's gallery. She hoped that Misty was in a decent mood, though Irene being in the area should help. What Misty had said about her son being all grown up, a lawyer and a member of that awful group… maybe there wasn't as much of an age gap between Misty and Irene as she'd first thought?

The drive was ordinary enough, except for the way that her thoughts kept wandering to these Watchers, to speculating about demons and vampires. Thinking about the bruises that she'd seen on Buffy and wondering how much worse they could have been... could still be. Hardly comforting thoughts…

"Joyce. I was starting to wonder if something had happened," Misty's voice rang from the back.

"A few things did, none of which need be discussed out in the front," Joyce admitted. She wasn't entirely certain how much she could or should tell Misty, but figured that it would be stupid not to admit that something had happened. Or that it involved her eldest daughter.

"We can talk in the back," Misty's tone made it clear that it wasn't an offer or a suggestion.

Joyce nodded, and made her way towards the office, her hands curling into fists as she stalked across the floor. As much as she didn't like the start of this conversation, she was still so angry about what had been done to her daughter, what that miserable voyeuristic bastard had been trying to do…

"Bad roads?" Misty's opening words were more as a reminder that they had reached the office than any sort of serious expectation that the problems were due to the road system.

Joyce doubted that it would be wise to say very much… Sanity was a wonderful thing.

"Maybe problems with your ex?"

Before she could stop them, the words began to pour out of her lips, faster and louder as she remembered Buffy's words about destiny, about how there was no way out, about how she was supposed to fight alone. Remembered the man with pictures of her daughter. "Last week, I learned that my fifteen year old daughter had managed to pick up a stalker, someone who was caught with pictures of her at the beach, shopping, moving about her school… at the doorway of the school locker room. Then I learned that this stalker's defense was that there were monsters out there, that demons and vampires were real and my daughter is supposed to fight them. And this nightmare mess has been told to Buffy, and now my fifteen year old daughter is at home fearful that she won't reach sixteen because of monsters out there and some lunatic voyeur wants to send her after them with a pointy stick and a prayer!"

"Demons? Vampires? Joyce…" Misty moved towards the chair, her eyes wide and fading to yellow.

"It isn't fair! She's supposed to be worried about school, and boys, and talking me into teaching her how to drive, not worried about monsters attacking her or crazy stalkers!"

"Oh Joyce," Misty sighed and moved closer, reaching out to catch Joyce's wrists. "It sounds like your week has been horribly interesting."

"That's one way to put it," Joyce admitted, her knees shaking. "I think I need to sit down…"

"The chair's right here," Misty murmured. "Considering all of that, being a bit late is quite understandable. Don't worry about a thing."

Misty left Joyce in the office with the ledgers and the scheduling books. Joyce felt a touch of relief that this wouldn't ruin her job just when she was getting everything straightened out. Nobody would need to know that she'd had a bit of a cry in the office, overwrought by the idea of crazy stalkers watching as Buffy was beaten to death by strange, twisted shapes with teeth and claws.

End part 26.

The rest of the day was tedious, with figures and scheduling, and fussing about delivery arrangements for several pieces of art that had recently been purchased. Joyce didn't plan to talk about the fact that she'd had to stop several times and calm down about the idea of that awful stalker spying on Buffy or imagining how many others were like him, or imagining Buffy injured, crippled, or killed by monsters. Or the fact that when she stopped for lunch, it wasn't something even marginally healthy, but rather some terribly unhealthy comfort food, followed by strawberry ice cream.

Pulling herself together for more than the short term was easier said than done. It wasn't helped by the still healing mess of the divorce, where Hank had basically said it was all her fault that he was cheating on her – accusing her of not being woman enough to satisfy him, accusing her of hindering his career, of it being her fault that Buffy had needed to be put into a mental institution. How he'd said that she'd never make it without him. How he'd left with this bright eyed little redhead that might not have even been legal to drink alcohol. The bastard. Damn him, and damn Astrid for sticking her with him.

She'd found herself wondering about what she and Emma might have. Were they moving too quickly? Was she being too cautious, too prudish to keep such a lovely temptress as Emma Frost? Could she even keep Emma's interest for more than a short while, or would she be not woman enough for Emma as well? Would this interest fizzle out, leaving only the ruins of the best friendship that she'd ever had? Was it selfish of her to want things to go well, to lead to them being a happy, devoted, passionate couple?

And there was her daughters' educations to consider. Buffy, who might not even have a future if some British stalker was to be believed. Or a future filled with violence, pain and eventual too-soon death. Was it even worth worrying about Buffy's French lessons if she would be fighting demons for the rest of her life? Or Dawn's future, with or without the meddling of Maria Stepford? Dawn didn't know what she wanted, changing her mind from week to week.

By the time she was ready to go home, Joyce thought that maybe she'd chased away some of her irrational worries fears and frettings. Hank was an ass. He'd been an ass in college, that was why she'd decided to split up from him before Astrid the telepathic meddling bitch had interfered. Astrid's meddlings had insulated Hank from needing to grow up, so he hadn't. Hank being an ass had impaired his career far more than she ever could have even if she'd tried. Now, Hank the ass wasn't her problem. Emma had dealt with Astrid years ago, though the fallout of Astrid's manipulations would continue for those who'd suffered at her hands, even if they might not remember any of it.

If she didn't make Emma happy, Emma would have no hesitations about letting her know. And if they were careful, even if the romance and passion fizzled away, their friendship would remain. Letting 'what if's and fears destroy the relationship before it got a good start would be stupid, and she didn't intend to be a stupid woman.

She had no intention of just letting Buffy fight alone until she died, and neither did Emma. They would come up with something. French was useful, and far safer for Buffy to spend a few hours on occasionally than demon hunting. French was also spoken in many parts of the world, and why would there only be demons and vampires in places that spoke English?

Dawn was only ten. If Joyce hadn't known what she'd wanted to do with her life at ten – she'd considered being a movie star like Marylin Monroe, or a plantation owner like Scarlett O'Harra, or maybe an astronaut, or a princess, or maybe a ballerina… Dawn still had time to figure to what she was good at, and what she wanted to do. Maria Stepford could offer advice and suggestions, but she wouldn't control Dawn.

There were enough real problems without letting worries and stress create more.

She just hoped that her stress-induced confession to Misty hadn't caused new problems. She hadn't meant to admit half of what she'd spilled. At least she had left it at things a stalker had said, instead of mentioning that the monsters could be real, that her daughter might have such an awful destiny.

Her trip back home was almost calm. The biggest shock was that as she was parking the sleek white car in the garage, Joyce realized that somehow Emma's place had become 'home' in her mind. Home implied a lot more than just being a place to stay, it was a place that felt comfortable, a place where she could be herself, could relax. Could change things, or run around barefoot, or in her underwear at two in the morning. Home was where she could feel happy.

That was a much better thought to dwell on than anything that had filled her mind this morning.

Joyce walked into the main part of the house feeling better. This had become home while she wasn't paying attention. While she was worried about Dawn making friends, about Buffy sneaking out again, about if she and Emma might be good lovers as well as good friends. And the horrible things that Hank had said were starting to heal. Oh, there was still a long way to go with those wounds, but they no longer caused the same raw, paralyzing pain as before. Life was looking up in so many ways.

"Joyce, I'm glad you're home," Emma smiled before kissing her.

Yes, there were still problems, but life was looking up.

"It's good to be home, Emma. Do we have better plans? More people to help deal with the dangerous demons so that Buffy doesn't end up dying alone in a filthy alley in the middle of the night?"

"I've found a medical person to keep on hand. The team I've assembled for now will help Buffy, and we can add more people later, eventually splitting them into several groups patrolling. None of my people are going to die alone and unmissed in an alley. We can work on refining patrol patterns and procedures once we have a better idea, which means more questions for Buffy and a thorough debriefing of my first team once they've been patrolling with Buffy a few times," Emma held Joyce close, fingers running through her hair.

"We can make this work, make it safer for your daughter. Life is never completely safe, but we can help. I've even arranged for a French tutor," Emma whispered into Joyce's ear.

Joyce just held on, wanting to believe with everything that she was that this would work, that things would be better. Better for Joyce and Emma, better for Buffy, better for Dawn. Maybe even better for all the other girls out there that might end up with possibly voyeuristic British stalkers talking about demons and destiny.

End part 27.