To the Power Born: A Tale of the Slayers

Part 35: The Game's Afoot

We got to Scooby Mansion and went into the living room to find my whole extended family, plus Alina Sidorova, Abigail van Horne, Rhonda McIntosh and Aamira Nazari, the four Slayers who'd accompanied us on the mission to Illinois Wesleyan. Since I knew the most (admittedly, a small most, but the most) about Judith, the introductions fell to me. I went slowly and carefully, included all the pseudo dragons, and, for the moment, left off descriptions of position, except for saying that Giles was in charge of everything that wasn't actual family business.

"And this," I finished, "is Judith Holmes. Judith is from another Earth, like Colin and Piper, though hers isn't the same as either of theirs. Her mother is Mary Russell-Holmes… and her father is Sherlock Holmes."

"Holy crap!" my brother Stephen said, jerking to stand at almost-attention. "You're the daughter of the two greatest detectives ever!?"

"No, not quite," Judith said with a small, slightly nervous smile, probably made less nervous by the several pseudo dragons who'd gone to sit near her or on her lap or shoulders. She had Bookmark on her lap, Phantom on one shoulder, Fog on the other and Glitter in her arms, and all of them (including Judith) looked quite content with the arrangement. "Being the child of the two greatest detectives of my world would have involved an impossibility, as well as incest, since even Mother admitted that both father and Uncle Mycroft were her superiors in matters of deduction."

Stephen snorted laughter, grinned at Judith and said, "Okay, so… second and third greatest detectives ever, how's that?"

"That works quite well, thank you," Judith said. She looked at Colin and said, "Jocelyn mentioned that her boyfriend is from a parallel world, and introduced you as her boyfriend. May I ask… were my parents real on your world, sir, or fictional, as they are here?"

"Your father was fictional," Colin said. "I don't know about your mother, I never read the books Jocelyn's mentioned, I'm afraid, so I don't know if they existed where I come from."

"Piper?" Judith asked, looking curious.

Piper opened her mouth, frowned a little, and said, "I can't swear to it, but I think I saw a book with both your parents' names in the back cover copy. Something my Aunt May was reading, but I didn't read it. Still… does the title the Beekeeper's Apprentice mean anything to you, Judith?"

"It does, yes," Judith said, looking a little shocked. "Father had retired to Sussex and was raising bees, working on a book about them, when mother met him."

"Also, that's the title of the first book of the series," Stephen said. He smiled tentatively and said, "If it helps, Judith, it's a great book."

"Good lord," Judith said with a sigh. "This is… a bit of a shock. I'm fictional."

"No, you really aren't," I said, and took her hand, squeezed it gently. "You're real. Colin's real. Piper's real. You three… come from somewhere else, that's all. Somewhere that an author from here has tapped into, though she probably has no idea that she's done so.

"But you're real, Judith. As real as me, as real as anyone here. I'm pretty sure it's not possible to hold hands with a fiction, after all."

"I… yes, all right," Judith said. She took a deep breath and squeezed my hand back. "Thank you, Jocelyn."

"No problem," I said. I sat down beside her on the loveseat, kept hold of her hand, she probably needed some contact right now. "Now… shall we explain who and what we are, what we do first, or would you rather tell us more about yourself first?"

"You were listening when I told you that I'm insatiably curious, weren't you?" Judith said, giving me a small grin. "To me, you people and your world are fascinating— please, tell me about this Earth and your place in it."

"Giles, this is your ball," I said, and sat back to listen as he explained about the origins of this Earth.

Giles spoke of the Old Ones, the lesser demons that came after, the calling of the power of the Slayer, the binding of it to a girl. He told of thousands of years of a single Slayer, how Buffy's death and resurrection had made one into two, how her finding of the Scythe towards the end of the War of the First and Willow's using it to activate all potential Slayers everywhere had changed the rules again. Then he told her about Aunt Rose and Aunt Elaine contacting the Scooby Gang early on, telling them that there were two Slayers right here in Bloomington, how they'd come running to see why that should be, ended up staying and setting up headquarters here. He told of how the slow escalation of war with Amy Madison had led to the Battle of Bloomington, and that had led to the revelation of the reality of the supernatural to the whole world.

"So now, we do not operate in secrecy," Giles said. "Unfortunately, neither do the enemy. The events that led to your arrival here were triggered by terrorists who had hired demonic mercenaries to aid them in their actions against a group of college students.

"Judith… you are welcome to stay here until we determine both if we can get you home… and if it is safe to send you home."

"Why would it not be safe?" Judith asked.

"Things like this have happened before, Judith," Giles said very gently. He took a deep breath and said, "People have been coming here from parallel worlds from millennia, young lady, there are records of this in the annals of the Watchers' Council. Sometimes, we were able to help those people to return home— other times not. Once we learned to check certain things, we learned that if we could not send a person home, it was… was sometimes because… in their own world, they were meant to die at or shortly after the moment of transference."

Judith went very pale, squeezed my hand very hard, and said in a low voice, "Oh. I see."

For a long moment, no one spoke, then she said, "And since Jocelyn saved me from dying under a car that came through this accidental gateway after me, you think that such might have been meant to be my fate… in my own universe."

"It may well be," Giles said, as gently as such a thing can be said. "We can find out, and we will. But… I think you should know, Judith, that should it not be possible for you to go home, you will not be without a place to stay, and I hope not without friends. You will be welcome here— here specifically, in my house— or with Xander and Buffy. We have already decided upon this. Or with Whitey and Chantelle, or Willow and Lydia, or Vincent and Vi."

"You would… accept me into your homes, just like that?" Judith asked, blinking in confusion.

"Not so much 'just like that,' Judith," Kelly said. She smiled and indicated the pseudo dragons who'd worked close to Judith. "Pseudo dragons are, in our experience, unfailing judges of character, Judith, and all of the ones in our family seem to like you a great deal. When telepathic, empathic people who love intelligence and good character like you… well, we pay attention."

Ian spoke up then, a content look in his eyes. "This is what they do, Judith. They're all modest about it, but this is them. They take care of people. If you're a good person and you need help? They give it. And since the pseudo dragons like you, there isn't any doubt about you being good."

"Nice try, Ian," Xander said, "but you should have said 'we,' guy— because you're one of us."

"Thanks," Ian said, and grinned. "Yeah. We. We like taking care of people."

"I see," Judith said. She stared down at Glitter for a long moment, and the first pseudo dragon to come here looked back warmly. "Well… I admit, it is a relief to know that if I cannot go home, I will have a place to stay. But I do hope you aren't offended that I hope it doesn't come to that. I… would miss Mother terribly and she'd be very… very alone."

"No, we aren't offended," I said, smiling at her. "I'd hate to have to leave my family, everything I've ever known. So being offended would be hypocritical of me, and I try to avoid that. So does everyone here, so… no offense taken."

"Thank you," Judith said. "All right… now I suppose it is my turn."

She told the others what I'd told my Guardian Aunts earlier, how her mother had met Sherlock Holmes in 1915, when he was in his early fifties, and apprenticed to him. She saw the look of confusion on Giles face and said, "Oh, I see. Uncle John's fiction about Father's age is all that you ever knew, of course."

"I'm sorry?" Giles said, looking confused.

"Uncle John— Dr. John Watson, who chronicled my father's early career— he lied a little, Giles, about Father's age when they met. He felt that no one would ever believe that a man of Father's age could have learned and done all that he had, so he aged father a good bit in his stories. Everyone is surprised by it, don't feel bad.

"Father was fifty-nine when he and mother married not long after her twenty-first birthday— in very early January of 1921."

"I see," Giles said. "I suppose there is a certain logic to Watson's thinking, yes. Do please go on."

Judith told of her parents early adventures together, of how she'd been conceived while they were returning to England from America via boat, been born in March of 1925. From there, she didn't have to explain much for a great many years, just glossed over things a great deal. She had loved music from her earliest memory, learned to play the tin whistle very well by the age of four, started on the piano, and, over the years, learned more instruments and to sing. Her parents had stayed home with her as much as they could, wanting to raise her themselves, rather than have servants do it. There had been times, sometimes days, sometimes a couple of weeks, once a whole two months, when she'd been left in the care of Mrs. Hudson, her parents' housekeeper, and her Uncle John. ("An uncle by dint of friendship, not blood, as are your aunts and uncle, Jocelyn," she said.)

She had been educated at home for several years, and had come away with a more complete education than most girls her age could dream of having. Her parents had taught her the basics (to college level, at least for the forties) of all the practical sciences, she read so fast that it left her frustrated for lack of reading material sometimes, she could do maths up to calculus, she had a solid grounding in literature, and a surprisingly firm grasp of comparative religions.

"Mother and father both told me what they believed and why, then let me choose my own path," Judith said, smiling a little. "I think it vexed mother that I came away an atheist like father, but she never held it against me."

By the age of fifteen, she played five instruments at professional levels— the guitar, the piano, the flute, the violin, and her favorite, the cello— and at the start of the school year in September of 1940, she had entered the Royal Academy of Music with the intent of studying composition and continuing her playing.

"Mother wanted me to come home to Sussex when the Blitz started only a few days after I entered school, but Father, Uncle Mycroft and I talked her out of it," Judith said, and her voice seemed to pick up a little vibrato, as though she were heading for an uncomfortable subject. "Then… then when I went home for Christmas Holidays, someone… someone assassinated father."

She squeezed my hand very hard when she said that, and Glitter pressed closer to her, as did all of the other pseudo dragons, trying to help as best they could. She stayed silent for a moment, hugged Glitter one-armed, squeezed my hand again, then went on.

"Uncle Mycroft suspected that it was a German agent, that it was because they didn't want Father working for the Foreign Office," Judith said. "They shot him on the road as he was coming to pick me up at the train station, from a long way off, with a very powerful rifle. He… not even Father could see it coming.

"Mother went… she went constructively insane. She didn't eat, didn't sleep, did nothing but work to find Father's killer between his burial and the actual catch. She did find him, he was a Nazi agent, and when he tried to kill Uncle Mycroft, she killed him before he could. Then she… she came and found me, told me what she'd done, that she'd found the man who killed Father and made him pay— then she collapsed on the couch in my rooms and slept for two days."

When Mary Russell woke from her cathartic sleep, she hadn't, as Judith had feared, tried to get Judith to leave school and come home. Instead, she had moved to London herself, wanting— perhaps even needing— to be close to both her daughter and her husband's brother. She went to work for Mycroft Holmes, did intelligence work for him, couriered messages that could not be entrusted to the wireless, whatever was needed. She spent the time she was in London with Judith whenever possible, and the two became closer than ever.

"Then… then I heard that there was going to be a demonstration of electromagnetics at the Royal College of Science today— I mean, the today it was before I came here— and I decided to go, as my first scientific love is the field of physics," Judith said. "They were working on some advances in Radio Direction Finding— I believe the Americans call it 'radar'— and I wanted to see.

"They'd only started the demonstration when the bombs began to fall. I don't know if they had targeted the College, but they may have, since the Radio Direction Finder advances would almost certainly have aided in the war effort.

"I got outside, was headed for a shelter, and a bomb hit the building I was running alongside. The next thing I know… I was in the gymnasium at the university where we met."

"I still wish I knew how my containing an explosion like that opened a gate to your world," Aunt Dawn said. "That shouldn't have happened."

"It's one of those things that happens when physics and magic meet, Dawnie," Willow said. "Sometimes… the wacky just happens. Maybe there was some sort of sympathetic magical reaction between the explosion caused by the T'lakren and the explosion of the bomb, or… well, almost anything."

"Can you… I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude," Judith said, "but could you please… do whatever it is you must do to see if I can go home, please? I… Mother has lost enough, with losing father, and, to be frank, so have I. If I cannot go home, I… I will adapt, but not knowing… that is very difficult."

"Of course, Judith," Willow said. "It wouldn't be a good idea to send you home before you've had a night's sleep— the body needs to be as healthy as possible before a trip like that— but finding out if you can go home, that won't be a strain on you."

Willow went and got her magic kit, saw Judith's unease when we came back, and said, "Would you rather we went and did this somewhere more private, Judith?"

"I— yes, please," Judith said. She looked around at my family, said in a low voice, "I don't mean to be rude, truly I don't, but… I may well react strongly, and that is… difficult for me, at least in front of a large number of people."

"Of course," Giles said. "Willow, you may use the workroom in the basement here, if that will suit your needs."

"That works fine," Willow said. She waved Judith after her, then stopped when Judith hesitated. "Is there something else, Judith?"

"I… a large number of people would make me uncomfortable," Judith said, "but I would not like to be totally alone. Jocelyn, might I ask…?"

"Sure," I said, and stood to follow her and Wil. "I like watching Wil work, I like you, and Ripley might not forgive me if I didn't go with you, because she thinks you're the coolest thing since beef jerky, I think."

I went down with them, listened to Willow explain what she was doing while she worked, held Judith's hand for moral support when Wil cast her spell— and watched in horror and sympathy as Judith saw the fate she'd go home to if she returned, a horrible death by fire while pinned down by a burning car. Wil shut the spell down once it became obvious what was happening, and Judith, tears streaming down her face, rounded on Willow.

"Can't you— can't you just send me somewhere else?" Judith cried. "Across the street, or— or to my rooms?"

"I can't, honey," Willow said. "If I send you back, the only time and place that the laws that govern magic will let me send you is that time and place.

"Judith, I'm sorry, I'd help if I could, but there's just no way, not any."

"I don't want— my mother, she can't be left alone, I can't do that to her!" Judith cried, weeping openly now.

"Judith, I'm sorry, but she loses you either way," Willow said, tears begin to overflow her own eyes. "I'm sorry, but there are rules, even in magic. Even I can't break them."

I had hold of Judith's hand, wanting her to have some contact, and I could feel her shuddering as she said, "I need… to be alone for a while. Could I…?"

"Do you want to stay inside, or would you rather be outside?" Wil asked quietly.

"Outside. Trees. Grass."

"Okay, here," Wil said, and led us to the door that led out of the basement. "Giles owns everything to the tree line to the right, and to the end of the woods on the other side of the stream, Judith, and Whitey owns what he doesn't on the left, to the tree line way to the left, and the same distance past the stream. No one will bother you— but I think you won't be completely alone, not unless you truly need it. No human company, maybe— but not alone."

Glitter was sitting in a tree not far off, watching Judith with sad eyes, and Judith held her arms out gratefully. Glitter flew to Judith's arms, and the girl walked off towards the stream carrying Aunt Rose's friend and sobbing softly.

"Damn it," I said softly. "You know, it really, really sucks to find out that two of my favorite fictional characters are real, but one of them has died and the other is losing her daughter only months later."

"I know," Wil said. "Also, since she was supposed to die, she can't even send something to her mom, like Colin did. That would violate the same rules that keep me from sending her back."

Willow went back inside, but I decided to sit outside and wait for Judith. Richter came out to sit with me, and ended up half on my lap with Ripley dozing on his shoulders. Diane came out to talk to me, chuckled a little at the sight of dragon sleeping on dog, and spoke softly so as not to wake my friend.

"Dawn tells me that Judith was asking about the books featuring her parents, and that you said you have them all," Diane said. "Also that you said you should speak to me before letting her read them, for which I say, 'smart girl, thank you,' you smart girl, you."

"Well, yeah," I said. "I don't know— if it were me, they'd make me feel sad, but… I don't know if it would be a bad-sad or a relief-sad."

"I think that varies from person to person," Diane said, rubbing the head of Endorphin, her own pseudo-dragon pal. "I haven't read those books, but I am a Holmes fan— I may have to borrow yours, later— and I can't imagine any child of Sherlock Holmes being okay with not reading those books. She'll need to, Jocelyn.

"But I'd appreciate it if you'd give them to her one at a time, ask her to… not read them all too fast, and tell her that I'd like to talk to her between books, if she'll consent to that."

"I'll do that, and let you know her answer to the request," I said. "Thanks, Diane."

"Never a problem." Diane stood, stretched and gave me a grin. "Think of the business cards I can make up, Jocelyn; 'Diane Hodges, Psychiatrist/Psychologist, counselor to the Watchers' Council, specialist in multiversal trauma.' "

I chuckled a little, and Diane went in. A half an hour later, about five-thirty, Judith came back to the house, walking out from the Glade, still carrying Glitter, and looking… less hurt. She came straight to me, hugged Glitter once, and let her fly off to find Aunt Rose, then sat down on the side of the patio glider not taken up by my puppy.

"Thank you for letting me be alone, Jocelyn," Judith said, reaching over to let Richter sniff her hand. "Hello, fellow, what's your name?"

"You're welcome," I said, and squeezed her shoulder. "This is my puppy, Richter. He's harmless, unless you count him maybe crushing you with affection."

"Puppy, eh? A mongrel, I can see, but… puppy?" Judith scratched Richter's ears, and he grinned at her and thumped his tail. "He's big already, is he attempting gigantic?"

"He's only about five months old, according to what the vet said," I said. "So yeah— I'm expecting gigantic."

"Good heavens," Judith said. "Do you know what breeds went into his makeup?"

"The vet made educated guesses," I said, grinning. "Part Newfoundland, part something else huge— possibly Irish Wolfhound, the vet thinks, and also thinks that may leave the poor dog really confused." At her questioning look, I said, "The vet was sure he's part wolf."

Judith didn't laugh, but she did smile a little at the joke. Good enough for right now.

After several moments of just petting Richter, Judith said, "I should speak to Giles about earning my keep. There must be something I can do to earn room and board."

"Oh, please," I said, rolling my eyes. "As smart as you are? Pretty sure that you're so far past correct that you're into preordained."

She looked puzzled for a moment, then seemed to get that I was attempting a joke, and gave me a wan smile.

"On the other hand," I said, "Giles is filthy rich, and can afford to just help you, no strings attached. For a while, at least, I'm pretty sure that's a good idea, Judith, because you've been kicked around emotionally, shocked, scared, surprised, had your worldview turned upside-down, and lost your home in a way that I can't even imagine. So… time to adjust, kind of necessary.

"Don't push yourself. I know, saying that to you might be stupidity on my part, given your ancestry, but I have to try."

Again the wan smile, and she said, "I'll try to… take things slowly, at least for a time, but I'd very much like to read the novels you have about my parents."

"Well, I did get to speak Diane about that— the psychiatrist and psychologist who's staying with us— and she didn't object, really, but she had a request," I said, and told her what Diane had asked, finished with, "It seems like a really good idea to me."

"Yes, I can agree to that," Judith said. She hesitated a moment, then looked me in the eyes and said, "Jocelyn, Giles seemed to think that your parents might let me stay with them. Do you think they might?"

"I imagine so, yes," I said. Daddy had made a second guest room in the basement once we got down to one, just in case, since Xander had raised such a good point about our guest-slash-adoption habits.

"I'd like that," Judith said. She looked at me, and let me see the hurt she felt. "I like you. You… I want to be your friend. I think I need to have a friend close by, for a while, at least."

"Works for me," I said, then corrected myself at her puzzled look. "I mean— I like the idea, too, Judith. I like you a lot, and the idea of being your friend makes me happy."

"All right, thank you," she said, and squeezed my hand briefly. "Shall we go in, that I might speak to Giles?"

We went in and found Giles in the study (after passing through the kitchen and listening to Judith's stomach rumble mightily). I left her to speak to him alone at her request (crowding her right then was a horrible idea, I knew that), and Daddy went in when Giles called for him. When they all came out at supper time, Judith looked… content, I guess. Like they'd reached an agreement she could live with.

Judith ate better than I'd expected, enough to keep from getting nagged even by Kelly, and made a point of complimenting her, since she'd cooked that night.

"Perhaps one day soon, I could cook?" Judith suggested. "Mrs. Hudson taught me quite a bit, and I think you'd all enjoy her lamb chops."

"Pick a time, give us a list, we'll set it up," Kelly said breezily. "No such thing as too many people who can cook, not around here.

"On the subject of cooking… you're going to stay with us, aren't you?"

"Yes, I have worked out an arrangement with Giles, and I'll be staying with Whitey and his family," Judith said, giving me a little nod.

"All right then, we have a long tradition of 'welcome to the family' dinners, Judith," Kelly said. "Is there anything special that you'd like? If we can't fix it, we'll send out for it."

For a moment, Judith looked thoughtful, then she said, "I've never had it anywhere but in a restaurant, but there was this little restaurant in London that served Italian cuisine, and I used to go there for their meat tortellini with marinara and meatballs. Do you think you could manage that? I rather love it."

"Absolutely," Kelly said. "I'll make the tortellini and the meatballs. Jocelyn, can you do the sauce?"

"Sure, I can do that," I said. "I'll make it tonight, put it in the fridge, and start it in the crock pot tomorrow morning before school."

"Excellent," Kelly said. "I'll bring the meatballs over tonight, you can put them in with the sauce tomorrow morning. Say… four gallons of sauce?"

"Lots of meatballs, cool," I said. "Four gallons it is."

(With the number of people we regularly fed? Of course we had huge cookware— including a six-gallon crock pot that also served as a turkey roaster for up to a twenty-five pound bird.)

As Joyce and Aunt Elaine started cleaning up while the rest of us just sort of sat and lazed around, Joyce suddenly stopped in her tracks, a faraway look on her face. After a moment, that look turned into a huge, delighted grin, and she said, "Yes! Leia's laid eggs! Five, she says, she's nesting on the top shelf of my closet!"

We all applauded, even Judith, who'd met Leia earlier and remembered the name. By that time, all the other recent babies had hatched and found their friends among the Slayer girls in attendance.

After a moment of working, Joyce started singing as she worked, an old rock song called Saint Theresa, from before either of us were born. Judith sat up and listened carefully— and slowly she started to smile. When Joyce finished that song, Judith said, "Could you sing that again, please?"

Joyce looked around in surprise, but nodded and started singing Saint Theresa again— and Judith sang it with her, perfectly! She'd memorized the lyrics in a single hearing, and her pure voice, a little deeper than Joyce's, wrapped around Joyce's and matched her perfectly while the rest of us sat and stared and listened raptly.

When they finished, Joyce came over and hugged Judith, grinned at her and said, "You are incredible. I have a good voice, I know that— but yours is awesome."

"I'd say your voice is more 'very good,' than merely 'good,' Joyce," Judith said. "But… you've not been trained, have you?"

"No, not really," Joyce said. "Oh, some pointers from the chorus teacher last year, but no real training."

"If you like, I could teach you some things," Judith said, her voice not-quite-hopeful.

"I'd like that a lot, please," Joyce said. "Um, are you going to school with us?"

"No, not yet, at any rate," Jocelyn said. "Giles needs to test me on where I should be, and he seems of the opinion that I'll out-strip secondary education, and very likely be ready for college."

"Okay, so… how about after supper sometimes?" Joyce suggested. "After school is more Slayer training, then I like to do as much of my homework as I can before supper."

"That would be fine," Judith said. "We can start tomorrow night, if you like?"

"Yes, please!" Joyce said, and they shook on it before Joyce turned back to her cleaning chores.

"Is that a sample of modern music?" Judith asked.

"Not quite," Dad said. "That song is… more than twenty years old, and it was done in a slightly older style called 'folk rock.' However… well, if you'll agree to sing something solo, I'll bet we could get Joyce to sing something contemporary."

Thank you, Daddy! I want to hear her sing solo, I do! I thought.

Judith sang a song I recognized, but only because I'd watched an old movie called the Rocketeer with Xander once, and that movie, set in 1938, had the song Begin the Beguine in it. Her voice sort of took me away, and I didn't mind that at all.

After that, Joyce sang a very up-tempo song by a relatively new group called Bright Lady, and I could see that Judith liked it (I liked it myself), though I thought she might take a while to get used to the rhythms and tempos of modern music.

The two of them took turns singing for a couple of hours, and we all just relaxed and listened. Judith gave Joyce a few pointers here and there, about breath control and sustaining notes, and I could hear the improvement right away.

When they finally stopped, it was almost nine, and we all split up and headed for our various houses. Giles stopped Xander, took him into the study, but I paid no real attention to that— I was trying to catch Daddy alone, which finally I did when he stopped at our back porch for a cigarette.

"Daddy, can I ask for a… a possible waiver on the 'sleep alone on school nights' rule?" I said as I snuggled under his arm. "Purely non-sexual reasons, honestly."

"Could you explain a little more before I decide, please?" Dad asked.

"Judith," I said. "She may… Daddy, her whole world got ripped away from her. She may need to not be alone. She may be okay, too, I don't know, and her parents would have tried to make her… self-sufficient enough to be okay, but how do you prepare someone for a loss like this? Like everything you ever knew being just… yanked out from under you?"

Daddy hugged me, said against my hair, "You make a good case. Rule waived, regarding Judith— should she need it. For the duration of her recovery. I'll tell your mother."

"Thanks, Daddy," I said, and just snuggled into his arms for a minute before popping up on my toes to kiss his cheek. "I'm going to go sneak a little Colin-and-Piper-time in before bedtime, though. See you in a bit."

Mom was showing Judith around the house when I went in, and I didn't interrupt other than to ask whether Judith was going to be moved into the first floor spare room or the one in the basement.

"Actually, I'd prefer the basement, if that's all right," Judith said. "I'd imagine fewer windows down there, and I have a devil of a time sleeping with the sun coming in the windows."

"No problem, Judith," Mom said. "Jocelyn, Piper and Colin went on up. I think they're expectin' you to join them."

"They are," I said. "I'll come say good night in a bit, Judith."

I went upstairs, made love with Colin and got seriously handsy with Piper for a while, then washed up briefly and went downstairs in shorts and a T-shirt. Judith had been given a second set of sweats, etc, for the next day, and had used the shower off of Mom, Dad and Gwen's room. She sat in the living room, toweling her hair dry, and I sat beside her and offered to help and to brush it for her. She agreed, and it didn't take too terribly long, as it hadn't tangled. I offered to braid it, and she chuckled a little.

"That I'll do myself," she said, blushing almost scarlet. "I know it's odd, but for me that is… very intimate." At my questioning look, she said in a low voice, "Mother allowed no one to braid her hair besides Father, and I could see the… intimacy in that act, the few times I saw it, so it has assumed that same significance in my mind."

"Okay, that makes sense," I said. I stood and said, "If you can do it in the kitchen, we can talk while I put together the spaghetti sauce for tomorrow."

She agreed, and followed me into the kitchen, empty except for Abe dozing by the back door, and she braided that thick, heavy fall of hair while I put together the spaghetti sauce while browning a big batch of ground beef to go into it— meatballs and meat sauce, how can you go wrong? (Yes, over beef tortellini— I'm an omnivore who leans towards carnivore, okay?) Judith watched me work and talked about the things Giles was going to do to help her "catch up" to the early twenty-first century. A directed reading list, a couple of films, and tomorrow, her first foray out into the rest of the world; Kelly and Mom were going to take her shopping for clothes and such.

"One thing I like very much about the world of here-and-now," Judith said after finishing her description of her planned educational regimen and outing. "I love that there seems to have been a great deal of lessening of restrictions on gender matters. Women can wear trousers and not be thought less feminine, they can work at jobs once thought to be masculine… I do like that."

"Yeah, I can't imagine being stuck in a dress all the time to avoid scandalous looks," I said. I tasted the sauce, added some more rosemary and oregano, stirred it in, tasted again, and decided I had it right. "And, hey— that's one more reason for you to like us Slayers, Judith."

"You mean besides you saving my life and the lot of you taking me in so easily, and working so hard at making me feel at home?" Judith said, her voice amused. "Really, I don't need any more reasons to like you Slayers and your support personnel, but do explain, please."

"Pretty simple, really," I said, sitting down next to her and keeping one eye on the stove where the ground beef was still browning. Ripley hopped off of my shoulder, flapped to sit on Judith's on the side away from where she had her hair pulled over her shoulder to braid it. "Since the Battle of Bloomington and the Slayers coming into the public eye, feminism has made some more progress. After all, when only girls and women can have the power that we have, it sort of gives the women of the world a mental and emotional boost. Some of the remaining restrictions are being removed, although not all— but it really seems like we've helped. Women are allowed to be combat soldiers and pilots in the American military now, and while there's still some difference in the salary of a man and a woman in some jobs— executive jobs, mostly, I mean— it's diminishing. Things are getting better, and a lot of feminists are crediting us, at least in part."

"You're right, that is another reason for me to be fond of Slayers," Judith agreed, and squeezed my hand briefly before I got up to drain the ground beef and add it to the sauce.

I stirred the browned hamburger in, stuck the pot in the fridge, and stretched. "I have to be up for school in the morning, so I should head for bed. But before I go… Judith, I know you're tough. You aren't a weeping ball of useless right now, and after all that's happened today, that tells me you're very tough. But if you want a friend, if you need company tonight— just to keep the nightmares off, I'm not making a pass at— I'm not suggesting anything romantic, sorry.

"If you want company tonight, that's fine. I understand, just like I'll understand if you don't. If you decide no now and change your mind later, my room's on the third floor, first on the left."

"I… thank you," Judith said, her voice a little unsteady. "Quite frankly, I'm glad you asked… because I don't think I could have brought it up.

"I would like it if you could stay with me tonight, please."

"Your room or mine?" I asked.

"I've seen mine," Judith said. "No windows, so I'll sleep much better, and there is an alarm clock, which I'll set for whenever you like."

So we went to her room in the basement, climbed into the queen-sized bed, her in sweatpants and a T-shirt, me in shorts and a T, and lay facing each other, but touching only by holding hands. Ripley curled up on the headboard above us, still small enough to do that, and Judith smiled at the sight.

"Good night, Jocelyn," Judith said. She squeezed my hand and added, "Thank you for everything."

"You're very welcome," I said. "Good night."

She woke twice from nightmares that night. The first time, she excused herself, went to the bathroom one door down the hall, came back, took my hand again, and fell asleep almost instantly. The second one must have been very bad— she screamed herself awake, and this cool, calm, self-sufficient girl came sobbing into my arms to be held until she slept with an ease that I would never have expected.

After that, she slept easily until the alarm went off in the morning, and she didn't seem embarrassed by waking up still snuggled up to me. We went up for breakfast, and I started the spaghetti sauce (Kelly had brought over the meatballs sometime after I'd gone to bed). Judith ate well enough at breakfast, then surprised me when I left for school by giving me a brief (but warm) hug.

At school, Belinda walked into the building with me, chatting lightly, and stopped me with a hand on my arm when we came to the hall junction where she went one way to her locker and I another to mine. She looked up at me and said, "I really like Judith, Jocelyn. I guess that's a good thing, too."

"Huh?" I said. "Why is that a good thing? Besides that she's gonna be living with us, I mean."

"Oh, man," Belle said, giggling a little. "You really did miss it!"

"Miss what?" I asked, honestly puzzled.

Belle gave me a big, cheeky grin, took a couple of steps down the hall towards her locker, then looked over her shoulder and said, "And then there were four…."

I stared after her, stunned silly by the remembrance of the conversation we'd shared just… wow, just a couple weeks ago, not long after we met and "adopted" Ian Matthias.

I keep seeing you three together and looking for the fourth one, like some part of me knows there ought to be four of you, Belinda had said to me the night after Piper had first come to breakfast holding hands with both Colin and I.

" 'And then there were four….' " I quoted what she'd said just a moment before, this time understanding it. "Oh. Cool!"

I went to class with a grin on my face.