Chapter 75

The Prodigal Daughter

It was both strange and familiar to be back in Lima. Slipping on a leather jacket that still hung in the same place in her closet, Buffy figured it was like she'd never left. But she had. And even though nothing looked different, it would be. She would have to adjust all over again. With her mom. With her friends. So she figured she may as well get the ball rolling.

She snaked around a back alley that was a little-known shortcut to the Bronze. She figured if her friends weren't pooling their money to get spaghetti dinners at Breadstix, they would be trading squished cockroaches for free sodas at Lima's only night-club's pre-fumigation party. She walked along, the heels of her boots echoing in the alleyway when she heard the reverberating crash of a trash can not too far down the alley. She crouched a little lower and continued walking, alert. She had a feeling it wasn't just a stray cat or a drunk teenager.

She walked on in the eerie quiet until she accidentally kicked at a discarded soda can on the ground. It skittered noisily across the pavement and a figure jumped out from the shadows, brandishing a sharp weapon. Buffy caught the attacker's wrist in one hand before she could be stabbed in the chest. A wooden surface scraped against her jacket. A stake. Buffy looked up and saw wide, swampy brown eyes. Buffy broke out into a smile at the sight of them.

Blaine.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you about playing with pointy sticks? It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye."

Blaine dropped his arm down to his side and gaped at Buffy. "You shouldn't… sneak up on people like that. Jeez, Buffy…"

Blaine pulled her in for a hug, the stunned look still gracing his face, his arms closing over her shoulders. Buffy closed her eyes and the almond-y smell of good old Blaine Anderson came back to her. Suddenly, she fell toward thin air as Blaine was pulled back by a vampire. Blaine executed a headbutt from underneath the vamp's grasp, as Buffy dashed forward, sending a punch thudding against the vampire's head. The vampire toppled off of Blaine and clasped his head, wincing dizzily as Buffy drew her stake. Just as she did, Blaine leapt off of the ground, holding his own stake, eyes darting between Buffy and the vampire.

"Oh, you wanna…?" Buffy asked, taking a step backward.

"Oh, no, you go ahead."

"No, you can-"

Light blinded Buffy and the blonde shielded her eyes as a ball of flames erupted in the alley. Buffy looked up to see the vampire set ablaze, arms flailing, his screams muffled by the engulfing smoke and fire until he turned to dust and the flames disappeared. Buffy bugged out of her eyes as the black ash left on the grimy ground and looked up to see a tall girl decked in plaid and leather, sporting a choppy pink haircut.

"Got him," she frowned smugly, placing her hands on her slender waist. She looked up at Buffy, her face blank a moment, before she registered the slayer's face.

"Quinn?" Buffy gaped.

"B-Buffy?" Quinn raised an eyebrow, "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Buffy opened her mouth.

"Quinn," Blaine frowned.

"I mean… When did you get back?" Quinn frowned.

"Today," Buffy replied as the now pink-haired girl stared her down, "I like your new 'do."

Quinn self-consciously touched the ends of her bubblegum bob. "...Thanks."

A crackle of electricity drew Buffy's eyes to the walkie-talkie attached to Quinn's studded belt.

"Come in, Pink Ranger. Everything okay?"

Buffy and Quinn met eyes again, Quinn's cheeks turning the same shade as her hair under the glow of a distant street lamp.

"Pink Ranger?" Buffy smirked.

"Shut up," Quinn muttered sourly, looking Buffy up and down, "Welcome back."

Buffy smiled to herself. "Thanks," she said under her breath.

Quinn brought the walkie-talkie up to her lips. "Guys, come around the corner. There's something you need to see."

Buffy's heart picked up as footsteps quickly sounded down the corner and figures approached. Kurt, Rachel and Tina appeared under the light and their jaws dropped once they saw the slayer.

"Hey," she said lamely, feeling shy and sheepish under their stares.

Speechless, they rushed toward the slayer and attacked her in a tight group hug. Blaine joined the huddle and Quinn watched from the back, wondering what this would mean for Lima now.

"We have to go to Mr. Schuester's," she said, still frowning.

Rachel pulled away from the group hug and turned to Quinn, her face frozen in shock and glee. "Yes. Of course!" she said, quickly turning back to Buffy, "Does Mr. Schuester know you're here? When did you get back? We have to go see him."

"I just got back tonight. And no, he doesn't know," Buffy shook her head.

Kurt breathed out, looking distressed. "Where were you?"

Buffy pursed her lips. "New York."

"New York City?! You went and lived in New York all summer without me?" Rachel asked, jealousy rising up her face before Quinn calmly touched her shoulder.

"Rachel."

"Sorry," Rachel sighed, "What were you doing in New York?"

Buffy shuffled uncomfortably. "So you two are dating now, huh?"

Rachel and Quinn glanced at each other. "Uh, yeah. How did you know?" asked Rachel.

"Jesse told me."

"You saw Jesse?" asked Quinn, "When?"

"When I… Listen, this is a lot. We should go to Will's place. I'd like to see him."

The scoobies, plus one, piled into Tina's car and drove to the low-rise apartments on the other side of town that Mr. Schuester lived in. They piled around the front door and Buffy's finger hesitated in front of the buzzer.

"Are you sure it's not too late? Maybe we should come back tomorrow-"

"Buffy," Tina said tentatively, sounding like a stern mother.

"Okay, okay. But what if he's mad?"

"Why would he be mad?" Quinn raised an eyebrow, "Because you abandoned your post and your friends and your mom and made him lie awake every night worrying about you when he wasn't flying across America looking for you?"

Buffy retracted her finger from the buzzer and balled her hand into a fist.

Rachel turned around to give her girlfriend a scolding glare. "Quinn, really?"

Quinn shrugged.

"Buffy, he'll be happy to see you. Really," said Blaine.

Buffy nodded, breathed out and pressed the buzzer. After a few long seconds, Mr. Schuester's voice crackled on the other end.

"Hello?"

Buffy's voice almost caught in her throat before she managed to croak his name. "Will?"

He paused for what felt like a year. "Buffy?"

Buffy sighed and pressed the buzzer. This was harder than she thought it would be. A million times harder. "I'm back. I'm with the gang."

Will paused again and the buzzer sounded. "Come in."

The gang rushed upstairs to Will's apartment and knocked on the door, only for him to almost simultaneously open it. Buffy blinked at him - hardly recognizing her watcher. He was clad in only socks, jeans and a gray t-shirt and scruffy, five o'clock shadow covered his face. His eyes were blood-shot, but they stared sternly at Buffy's face. She wondered if he'd been drinking and was immediately engulfed with guilt. What had she done to him?

His face suddenly softened.

"Welcome home, Buffy," he smiled, and pulled her into a hug. The scoobies smiled and shuffled awkwardly in the hallway.

"Come in, come in," he said, ushering them in, one arm over Buffy's shoulder as he guided them all into his living room.

The place was cluttered with maps, letters, books and empty beer bottles, but he hurriedly tried to tidy the place as the scoobies sat down.

"When did you get back?" he asked as he flitted around, shoving loose pages of paper out of sight.

"Just a few hours ago. I went to see my mom first," Buffy replied as she sat on the couch, sandwiched between Blaine and Rachel.

"Of course," said Will, taking a seat on an armchair, "How did you find her?"

Buffy shrugged. "I pretty much remembered the address."

"No, I mean… Never mind. I'm just glad you're back."

"And you're not wanted for murder anymore," said Kurt.

"Oh, good," Buffy sighed, "That was kind of a drag."

"She was in New York," Rachel knowingly informed Will, before addressing Buffy, "What were you doing in New York? Were you living in a box or what?"

"It's a long story," Buffy squirmed uncomfortably.

"So get right down to the good stuff," said Kurt.

"Maybe we should let Buffy adjust a little before we give her the third degree about her summer," Tina piped up calmly, her eyes on Will's carpet.

"What she said," Buffy nodded.

"Fair enough," said Blaine, "We can even keep taking care of your slaying duties. We've got kind of a thing going on."

"I see that. You've got quite the set-up. Walkie-talkies and everything."

"Yeah, and we're good," said Quinn, "We dust nine out of ten."

Rachel shrugged. "Six out of ten."

"Whatever. We've been kicking ass, basically."

"That's okay," said Buffy, "I'm more interested in this makeover that's going on. You're talking like Puck and dressing like Tina circa 2009."

"Well, someone had to pick up a little bad-ass slack since you and Santana…"

Quinn trailed off. Buffy looked away, the playfulness in her eyes fading away, as the others gave each other somber looks.

"What about you, Tina?" Buffy asked, looking up at her friend, trying to resurrect the cheer, "Where are the studs and eyeliner?"

Tina smirked. "I didn't have as much time for the creature-of-the-night look, with us slaying and everything."

"Right," Buffy nodded, "Well, hopefully things can get back to normal now. You know, slaying, school, brainless fun. Kid stuff. Are you guys up for hanging out tomorrow?"

The scoobies silenced.

"Actually, Buffy, I'm kind of tied up," said Rachel, glancing at Quinn, "I'm running for student government this year, so…"

"So am I," Kurt piped up, "Rachel's my opponent, actually. We're being surprisingly civil about it all, though."

"Oh. Okay," Buffy nodded, disappointed, "Tina?"

"Tomorrow?" Tina asked, looking uncomfortable, "I don't know…"

"Come on, I need to get myself a new wardrobe. Manhattan boutiques are way too expensive," said Buffy.

"You lived in Manhattan?!" Kurt hissed at her, before Blaine shot him a fervent look, "Or, you know, tell us all about it in your own time."

"I'm just saying, I need a girls' trip to the Gap. Friends don't let friends browse alone."

Tina hesitated, and gave Buffy a shrug. "Yeah, I mean, I had some school work, but I guess I can cancel my plans."

"Speaking of school, Buffy," said Will, "You'll have to talk to Principal Figgins before you come back."

"On it. Mom's making an appointment for tomorrow. It'll all be taken care of."

xxx

"Absolutely not. Under no circumstances."

Principal Figgins' office looked the same as it did before the summer. Thunderclap yearbooks lined the bookshelves chronologically, their red and white patterns varying for every year. A gold-plated bar boasting Figgins' name sat on his cherrywood desk and his russet hands were clasped behind it.

"But you can't keep her out of school. You don't have the right."

Buffy squirmed in the fabric chair next to her mother, both women opposite the stone-faced principal. This conversation wasn't going how either of them had wanted or expected it to, and the desperate frustration was written all over Joyce's face.

"It's not just up to me. No parent in their right mind would enroll a child in a school that welcomes a wanted fugitive, Ms. Summers."

"Buffy was cleared of all charges!"

"While that is a relief to us all, Buffy Summers is still a troublesome student. Numerous times she has destroyed school property and skipped her classes. Her grade point average alone is abysmal."

"Do you even understand that this is a young girl's entire future?"

"I believe that Ms. Summers' natural charisma will open doors."

Buffy locked her jaw and put a tight grip over the handle of her purse. "This is a waste of time," she said, leaning forward, "Mom, let's go."

She stood up and headed for the door. Joyce quickly stood, as well.

"This isn't over," she said, "I'll go to the school board. The mayor if I have to. In fact, I think I might just get the media involved. Let this town know what kind of system you're running."

Joyce stormed out, following her daughter out into a hallway cluttered with teenagers.

"How did it go?"

Will had been waiting outside the office, trying to look casual as he checked his iPhone and absentmindedly inspected flyers for an 80s themed open mic night at the Bronze while he waited for Buffy and Joyce to finish with their meeting. By the looks of their tense faces, the meeting had not gone well.

"How do you think it went?" Joyce snapped, running a hand through her hair.

Will sheepishly looked at the floor. "Right. Sorry."

Joyce sighed, exhausted. "No, I'm sorry. That horrible little man should be replaced immediately."

"There has to be some way he can overruled," Mr. Schuester said, the three of them making a small triangle.

As the adults talked about Buffy's situation, the slayer gazed down the hallway of her old high school. It didn't feel like it had been so long since she had been here, daydreaming through glee club rehearsals and researching ghouls with her fellow scoobies. She knew things would change, drastically, and it was going to be a hard year for her and her mother. As she watched her former classmates shuffle past, a familiar blond mop-top passed.

Her staring caught Sam's attention and they met eyes. He lifted his hand and gave her a small wave, his mouth wide open, stunned. He looked like he was about to approach - probably to barrage her with questions about being back in Lima - but Mercedes rounded the corner and tugged on his arm. With a last glance at Buffy, he swung his arm over Mercedes' shoulders and the two walked away with Buffy staring after them. Sam and Mercedes? It didn't make any sense for her to be jealous. Sam deserved a loving girlfriend and Mercedes deserved to be with a good guy. She was happy for them. She was just surprised by how fully Lima seemed to have moved on without her.

xxx

Rachel stuck a straight line of tape over a graffitied locker, covering up 'Piper 3 Rick' with a campaign poster that featured her smiling widely, a star-spangled hairband adorning her head. She smiled at her profile and at the red, white and blue words above her that read, 'Vote Classy. Vote Berry.' It was perfect.

"It's perfect," she said aloud, clasping her hands together as she admired it, "And it really brings some class to our school's dreary hallways. That's one of my promises - to make our school look like a cleaner, more sophisticated version of itself. Starting with painting over these drab, pea green lockers."

"Who are you talking to?"

Tina walked over to the brunette, textbooks in hand, and leaned against a nearby locker.

Rachel looked over at Tina and smiled. "I'm practising my speech. One of my promises is to make McKinley beautiful. It's a part of my Make McKinley Beautiful campaign."

"Clever."

"The lockers are going to be alternating red and white. The school colors. They're not extremely flattering, but it is somewhat patriotic, don't you think? Besides, I'm planning on getting rid of these terrible linoleum tiles. Stoner Brett was messing around in the Chem lab and spilled a noxious acid on the ground and it melted away the tile, and do you know what they found underneath? Hardwood floors! Can you believe it?"

Tina shrugged and looked at the floor. Rachel turned to her friend and gave her a good once over, wondering why she wasn't more enthusiastic about her amazing campaign. Tina's dark ponytail hung limp and she was wearing - probably for the first time - just a sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants. Rachel looked at the girl's eye bags and frowned sympathetically.

"Tina, I'm worried about you."

Tina wrinkled her brow at Rachel. "Don't be. I'm fine."

"I don't think you are. You've lost all of your drive. You got an A- on our first day History pop quiz. You've never gotten a grade that low!"

"What does it matter? I may as well blow off everything this year; I already got into the Watcher's Academy."

Rachel's eyes widened at her friend. "No. You're just going through a depression. You'll get over this; you just need to keep busy. Here, help me hang my campaign posters."

Rachel handed Tina a stack of glossy poster pages.

"When did you have time to make these?" Tina asked.

"Please," Rachel laughed, not even dignifying it with an answer.

"So you're really immersing yourself in this election, huh?"

"At first, I just wanted it to look good on my college applications, but now I really believe that I can change McKinley for the better with a little class. We could play smooth jazz in between periods. We could put a salad bar in the cafeteria. The possibilities are endless, really."

Tina nodded, looking at the ground. "Do you need any help after school?"

Rachel's smile faded. "Aren't you meeting up with Buffy after school?"

Tina frowned. "Yeah, I guess," she said, and looked hopefully at Rachel, "Hey, do you want to come with?"

Rachel shrugged, looking away. "I have a lot of work to do-"

"I could help you. I'm sure Buffy will understand."

Rachel looked up at Tina, saying nothing for a moment. "It's weird that she's back," she finally said, quiet.

Tina sighed, almost relieved. "I know. I mean, I'm glad that she's back. But it's weird. We don't know what happened to her or to Santana and she's missed so much. How are we supposed to just go back to how things used to be?"

"That's the thing. I don't want things to go back to how they used to be," Rachel said in a hushed tone, leaning in as her classmates passed, ignoring the girls' conversation, "Things have changed and I like it. I like being the unchosen ones. It makes me feel important and I hate to sound self-obsessed, but for once, not everything is about Buffy."

Tina shrugged. She didn't want to admit it to Rachel, but she did want things to go back to how they used to be. She just knew it was impossible. The girls straightened up as Quinn approached, her hips swinging with a plaid sweatshirt tied across them.

"Hey, ladies," she smiled coolly, leaning her hand against a locker and looking up at Rachel's poster, "Nice."

"What do you think of the slogan?" Rachel asked, smiling widely at her girlfriend, "Is it too uppity?"

Quinn smiled. "It's very 'you'."

Rachel smiled, showing off her pearly teeth. "Thanks. The Make McKinley Beautiful initiative is going to rock!"

Quinn snorted. "So, can I take you out to lunch? I have Sofia's car, so we could hit up a Taco Bell."

Rachel looked back at where Tina had been standing, but the girl had disappeared.

"Oh, um," Rachel stammered as she turned back to Quinn, "Actually, I wanted to work on this campaign some more. I have posters to put up and speeches to write. That sort of thing. I'm even working on a campaign tour around Lima. A rally at the Bronze, maybe a meet-and-greet at the public library."

"Is that expected?"

"It's unprecedented," Rachel smiled proudly, "But my goal has always been to raise the bar."

Quinn gave her a half-smile. "You always do."

xxx

Kurt rushed up the steps to McKinley, a half-full cup of Lima Bean frappucino sloshing around in his hand. He had already missed first period because he had overslept and had to pick up a coffee so that he didn't crash in the middle of AP French. His dreams - or rather, his family's dreams - had kept him tossing and turning all night, only getting about three solid hours of sleep.

Finn's dreams had been fraught with anxiety; his big, oafish hands fumbling to catch a football, make a grilled cheese sandwich and unclasp a bra. His dads dreams hadn't continued to sweetly include his late wife and current wife, but heavily featured bowling tournament victories. Carole's dreams were always either beautiful and poetic, or as mundane as loading an endless pile of laundry. Frankly, Kurt was sick of his family's innermost thoughts infringing on his beauty sleep.

"Rough night?"

Kurt pulled off his sunglasses to see Blaine speed-walking beside him. "Is it that obvious?"

"You look fairly hungover and I would be pretty offended if you had a margarita night without me."

"I would never," Kurt fake gasped, "It was the dreams again."

"They're getting a little out of hand, huh?"

"A little? I can barely tell what are my own dreams anymore. This has to stop. I'm tired all the time now."

"Well, I knew you wouldn't have a lot of time, so I made these."

Blaine stepped in front of Kurt and unrolled a glossy page of poster paper, revealing a picture of them both, wearing tailor-made suits they had gotten that summer for a Great Gatsby brunch they had both hosted. Except in the picture, they were in black and white, with blue words on top that said, 'Stand Up', and red words on the bottom that said, 'Hummel-Anderson '13'.

"Oh my God, Blaine," Kurt gushed, "These are great. Thank you so much. It completely slipped my mind to start making posters. When did you find time to do this?"

Blaine just laughed. "Please."

"I don't know what to say."

"Oh, I know exactly what you should stay," Blaine smiled, "I have been working on an amazing speech for you to give at Breadstix next Wednesday night."

"Why would I be giving a speech at Breadstix?"

"Please, you think Rachel is the only one who's planning on having a campaign tour?"

"How do you know Rachel's doing a campaign tour?"

"I have inside sources."

"Tina?"

Blaine pursed his lips. "I'm not at liberty to say."

"So Tina."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter. Do you know what Rachel's campaigning for? Class."

"Class?"

"She wants to class up McKinley. Sparkling water drinking fountains and calligraphy lessons."

"That sounds amazing."

"To you and I, sure, it sounds amazing, but to the average McKinley student, there are things that matter a lot more than being classy."

"You have a point. So what are we concentrating on? With 'stand up' as our slogan, I'm thinking anti-bullying? Because, I mean, it's an issue that's important to both of us, and I was thinking about banning dodgeball from gym class-"

"No, no, no. Kurt, our classmates don't care about bullies. We have to concentrate on things that they care about."

Kurt frowned. "Such as?"

"How about this?" Blaine smiled excitedly, splaying out his hands, "The citizens of Ohio are a simple people. Even the youngest and the trendiest go home to their Republican parents and their fried vegetables. They are traditional. They are American. So, we do what Americans do. When someone tries to take away our rights, we stand up."

Kurt furrowed his brow. "So what are we going to do, exactly?"

"When Rachel Berry decides to put a salad bar into the cafeteria, we take that as an attack on our right to eat whatever trash we want. When Rachel paints over our pea green lockers, we accuse her of starting a war on tradition. When Rachel starts to regulate our dress codes to ban halter tops and tanks, we stand up for our right to bare arms. When-"

"Blaine," Kurt held up a hand, "With all due respect, this sounds kind of… stupid. Like we're pandering to our classmates, but in a really condescending way."

Blaine smirked. "You just don't understand politics," he said before Sugar Motta strode forward and flashed both boys a blinding smile.

"Hey, ladies," she whinnied, and offered up a candy bar covered in pink paper with Sugar written in glitter, "Vote Sugar."

Kurt looked from the candy bar up to Sugar's face, her eyelashes covered in glitter as well. "Vote Sugar? For what?"

"Senior class president," Sugar smiled.

"Did you say senior class president?"

"Do you have a hearing problem?" Sugar asked slowly, "Yeah, I said senior class president."

"But Sugar, you're a freshman," said Blaine.

"Like it matters," Sugar snorted.

"What are you talking about? Of course it matters. You're not allowed to run unless you're a senior," said Kurt.

Sugar smirked. "I can do whatever I want. My dad is single-handedly funding the school government program."

She gingerly tucked her candy bar into the front pocket of Blaine's pinstriped button shirt and skipped away, her Louis Vuitton handbag dangling from the crook of her elbow.

"Can you believe that?" Kurt asked, staring after her.

Blaine rolled his brown eyes. "She's like Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian rolled into something that's somehow less talented. Trust me, she's not a threat."

xxx

"Don't worry about school, honey."

Buffy stared out of the passenger seat window as her mother pulled the car up to the Lima strip mall. Truthfully, she wasn't all that worried about school, but her mind was full. Things had changed in Lima since she'd left. Changed in the sense that they kept going on without her. She shouldn't be offended that people moved on with their lives. Not everyone would stop everything for her. Not everyone was like Will. And if everyone else can move on, then she can too.

"If we can't get you back into McKinley," Joyce continued when Buffy didn't reply, "We may be able to swing private school."

Buffy wrinkled her nose and looked at her mother. "Blazers and kilts? You want me to get field hockey knees?"

"It's not that bad," Joyce sighed.

"How about homeschooling?" Buffy asked, hopefully, "It's not just for scary religious people anymore."

"We'll work something out," Joyce said vaguely, unlocking the doors, "Tell Tina I said hi."

Buffy nodded and gave her mother a peck on the cheek before swinging her purse over her shoulder and getting out of the car. She didn't realize how much she'd missed being in a Midwestern mall as she took in the scent of day-old pretzels and perfume samples. She took a seat on a smooth, cold, metal bench outside of a Sephora and waited for Tina.

Buffy sighed and tapped her fingers against her knees, thinking about Sam and Mercedes again. Was she stupid for dumping him for Santana last spring? No, of course not. She was in love with Santana. She didn't have the same passion with Sam. She was just lonely and jealous and looking for comfort. And who better to comfort her than Sam, who had practically idolized her? She looked around for Tina again. Maybe her friend could make her feel better. After all, the two were now single and sad. They could comfort each other.

If Tina ever showed up. Buffy checked her watch. It was well past the time they had agreed on and Tina was almost never late. Buffy decided to give it a few more minutes, but after a while, she started to feel like a ditched prom date. She grabbed her purse and got a bus back to the suburbs, feeling like an industrial-sized pile of garbage as she padded up the front walk of her house alone. She looked up to see an older woman with cropped blond hair walking down from her porch.

"Oh my word, you must be Buffy!" the woman smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling, "Look at you. Aren't you a picture?"

Buffy furrowed her brow. "Thanks…"

"I'm Pat. I'm from your mother's book club. I'm sure she's mentioned me."

"Actually-"

"I sort of took it upon myself to look after her while you were off and away and what have you. Between your situation and reading 'The Fault in Our Stars', she was just a wreck. You can imagine."

Buffy opened her mouth though she was unsure of how she was supposed to reply to that. Luckily, Pat was already heading off in a hurry.

"Well, I'm off. We're making empanadas in my Spanish class tonight. You go be with your mother. The two of you need to re-bond," she called to Buffy as she shuffled to her hatchback.

Buffy turned her back and walked into her house, irked by Pat, tossing her purse on the end table in the front hallway. She noticed the TV buzzing in the living room, playing a local news channel that featured a fluffy-haired anchorman ensuring the citizens of Lima that the feeling of being watched in a dark alley is due to anxiety that comes from toxins in our drinking water and should be ignored.

"Pat wishes us quality time," said Buffy, leaning against the living room arch and looking at her mother, who was flipping through a cookbook on the couch.

"Oh. I met her in-"

"Book club. Got it."

"Before I forget, Tina just called."

Buffy's mouth made a thin line. "Where was she?"

"She says she got held up, but she tried to call."

Buffy nodded, looking distantly at the floor. Maybe it wasn't just her. Maybe she had good reason to feel left out of everyone's lives in Lima. Joyce tried to look hopefully as she slapped a bookmark into her cookbook and stood up.

"I had a thought," she said lightheartedly, "What if I invited Tina and Mr. Schuester and everyone over for a dinner party?"

Buffy considered the idea, unsure if she wanted to spend a whole awkward evening with her friends.

Joyce grinned sheepishly. "I was hoping for a yes, since I already did."

Buffy sucked in some air. "Okay. It'll be fun," she said, wishful.

"Great. Why don't you run downstairs and get the company plates?"

"Mom, Tina and everybody aren't company plate people. They're normal plate people."

"Indulge your mother," Joyce smirked.

Buffy rolled her eyes good-naturedly and headed for the basement. An old armoire was pressed against the back wall, where they kept their good china wrapped in newspaper. Buffy lifted the stack of plates to find a Polaroid photograph stuck to the bottom of the drawer. She plucked it from it's position and held it up in the darkness. It was her, Tina and Rachel, decked in fluffy pyjamas and seaweed facials, from a sleepover at least a year back.

Buffy frowned at it, feeling like she was looking at a picture of someone else's life. She pursed her lips and opened the top shelf of the armoire, sticking the picture back in. Her hand touched something furry and she yelped, pulling back, a clump of something dark falling out of the armoire and onto her head. She dropped the china with a thud and a crack, and looked at the thing that had fallen on her and was now limp on the ground. Her eyes widened to see that it was a dead tabby cat, stiff from rigor mortis.

Buffy pulled her eyebrows together and muttered, "Gross."

a/n: Thank you, everyone, for waiting so long for this chapter. I've been really busy and I haven't been able to upload in a long time, but I haven't abandoned the story and hopefully no-one else has. I hope you guys like it!

Next up, Rachel and Kurt continue to work on their campaign while a homecoming dinner party for Buffy turns into a full-on hootenanny.