Chapter 3: Flooded

October 15, 2001 – Monday

Summers Home

Buffy cautiously moved through the dimly lit basement, her heart pounding with a mix of determination and unease. She approached the groaning, drooping plumbing, the soft, mournful sounds of its decay echoing in the damp air. With a sense of impending conflict, she slowed her pace and came to a stop, her gaze locked on the leaking water pipe.

"So, we meet at last, Mister Drippy," Buffy quipped, her voice laced with a hint of playful defiance. She gripped a wrench tightly in her hand, her knuckles white as she prepared to face this watery adversary.

Dawn, her younger sister, descended the stairs with cautious curiosity, taking a seat on the bottom step. She watched as Buffy, the epitome of strength and grace, tightened the pipe with a few twists. Her eyes held a glimmer of concern and her words were tinged with empathy.

"Want me to call a plumber?" Dawn asked, her tone softly caring, unsure of her sister's abilities in the realm of DIY plumbing.

"No," Buffy replied with a resolute confidence, her voice carrying the weight of her Slayer duties.

"You sure?" Dawn pressed, her worry evident in her voice.

"Yes," Buffy affirmed, her unwavering determination shining through.

Dawn held up the phone, a lifeline of help in her hand. "Got the number."

"Dawn," Buffy said, her voice laced with a touch of frustration. "I'm on it, okay?" She twisted the pipe shut with one final, mighty twist, and the leak was silenced.

For a brief moment, the basement fell into a heavy silence, the tension hanging in the air, before chaos erupted. The once-silent pipes chose that very moment to rebel, bursting open in a cacophony of water and destruction. Water spewed forth in a dozen different directions, including directly at Dawn. She let out a piercing shriek, her voice filled with shock and alarm, as she scrambled to flee up the stairs, her drenched form a testament to her misfortune.

Buffy, turning to investigate the source of her sister's distress, was met with the disheartening sight of all the water that was now flooding the basement. She let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, her eyes reflecting the frustration of a Slayer whose heroic intentions had backfired in the most inconvenient of ways. "Great."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In the cozy kitchen, Willow and Tara sat at the table, their love for each other evident in the way they exchanged glances and the gentle touches of their hands. Buffy, her damp clothes clinging to her, stood by the sink, her expression a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Dawn, still bearing the remnants of her basement ordeal, peeked through the cellar door into the depths below. Her voice held a mix of astonishment and exasperation as she posed her question, her eyes wide with incredulity. "Man, how much water can they fit in one set of pipes?"

Tara offered her insight, her voice carrying a soft, reassuring quality. "If I understand it right? The entire city water supply."

Willow contributed with a playful comparison; her words filled with a whimsical charm. "It's like clown cars in the circus."

Dawn couldn't help but cast a teasing glance at her sister, her eyes dancing with playful triumph. "Told you we should have called a plumber."

Buffy, her annoyance giving way to a good-natured grin, played along. "You were right. The plumber will make everything good."

Tara directed her attention to Dawn, her voice laced with concern. "Dawnie. You're not eating breakfast?" She glanced over at her, the warmth of her love and care for the young girl evident in her gaze.

Dawn's gaze shifted to her pregnant sister, her concern for Buffy's well-being outweighing her own hunger. She hesitated for a moment before responding, her voice reflecting her preoccupation. "Nah."

Buffy, ever the protective and nurturing older sister, didn't let the matter slide. "Dawn, you need to eat," she urged, her worry evident in her tone.

"I'll, um, grab something before school," Dawn offered as an excuse, not wanting to burden her sister with her concerns.

Buffy, perceptive as ever, sensed there was more to the story. She questioned Dawn, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and anxiety. "Why? There is something you aren't telling me, isn't there?"

Before anyone could respond to Buffy's query, Xander and his friend Tito, the plumber, made their grand entrance through the cellar door. Xander added a touch of humor to the situation with his announcement. "And a big Sunnydale round of applause for Tito the amazing. Plumber extraordinaire," he declared, clapping his hands with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Tara focused on the matter at hand. She directed her question to Tito with a gentle smile. "So, how's it looking down there?"

Xander, ever the master of humor even in dire situations, couldn't resist making a quip despite the flooded basement. "Like we should start gathering up two of every animal," he joked, the tension in the room briefly lightened by his words.

Tito addressed the group with a straightforward assessment. "Basically, your pipes are shot. I mean, the whole system's gonna have to be replaced. You need the full copper re-pipe down there."

Willow, usually the cautious one, couldn't help but express her concern, her voice quivering slightly. "Full copper re-pipe? That sounds potentially pricey."

Tito, a professional in his trade, offered a practical solution. "If you have any questions, our number's on the invoice," he said as he handed the invoice to Buffy. He then turned and headed out of the house.

Dawn, standing by her sister's side, leaned in to get a glimpse of the dreaded price tag. She winced upon seeing the figure, her voice filled with the concern of someone who knows the gravity of the situation. "Ouch."

Xander, attempting to provide some comfort, chimed in with reassurance. "Hey, Tito cut you a good deal down there. Those are his bargain prices. I did a little haggling for you."

Buffy, confident that they would find a solution, tried to downplay the issue. "Thank you. So? We'll pay him, what's the big deal."

The exchanged looks among Dawn, Xander, Willow, and Tara told a different story. Willow, taking a deep breath, finally addressed the looming financial concern. "Uh, Buffy, I think there's some money stuff we have to talk to you about," she said with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In the cozy living room, Buffy sat at the coffee table, surrounded by a daunting pile of bills. With a sense of weary determination, she flipped them onto the table one by one, her brows furrowing in concentration as she reviewed each one. After a moment, she couldn't help but laugh, a mixture of incredulity and resignation in her voice. "So, okay, you're telling me I'm broke?"

Dawn, always forthright, delivered the sobering truth. "Not yet, but close. When Willow and Tara moved in to take care of me, I asked them if they could provide any kind of monetary assistance. Because I knew that mom's hospital bills had eaten up her life insurance."

Willow, with a hint of sadness, chimed in to explain further. "We gave Dawn the money we saved from not staying in the dorms this semester. But even with that, money is getting tight."

Buffy's thoughts turned to her mother's art gallery, a glimmer of hope in her voice as she inquired, "What about mom's gallery? I mean, she did own the place. Aren't we getting any income from that?"

Dawn sighed, her shoulders slumping under the weight of the situation. "It's closed, Buffy. Been closed since mom passed away. We could have reopened it, I guess, but none of us know anything about running an art gallery."

As the weight of their financial woes settled upon the room, Tara added a somber note to the discussion. "And household expenses have sucked up all the money we gave Dawn. We were beginning to think about auctioning your mom's gallery just for additional cash."

Dawn, her worry deepening, voiced her uncertainty. "So, what do we do?"

Buffy looked at her Dawn with a heavy heart and admitted, "I don't know. I'll fix this. I promise, I just don't know how yet."

Anya, always one to offer unconventional solutions, interrupted the gloomy atmosphere with a confident declaration. "I know how." All eyes turned to her, curious about her unexpected idea. She paused for effect, then finally revealed her plan. "If you want to pay every bill here, every bill that's coming, and have enough left over to start a nice college fund for Dawn?" She waited for their attention to heighten before delivering her punchline. "Start charging."

Buffy, puzzled by the suggestion, asked, "For what?"

Anya, her business instincts shining through, explained with conviction. "Slaying vampires! You provide a valuable service to the whole community. I say, cash in."

The shock in the room was palpable as everyone looked at Anya, who was seemingly unfazed by their reactions. Buffy responded with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity; her voice tinged with a touch of amusement. "Well, that's an idea… you would have. Any other suggestions?"

Anya, undeterred by their initial reaction, defended her proposal. "It's not so crazy."

Dawn, however, couldn't hide her disbelief and disagreement. She spoke with a hint of indignation in her voice. "Yes, it is! You can't charge innocent people for saving their lives."

Anya, determined to make her point, countered with an unlikely comparison. "Spider-Man does."

Dawn was quick to refute Anya's claim. "He does not."

Anya, insisting on her point, replied confidently, "Does too."

Dawn started to protest but caught herself, her eyes turning to Xander for his opinion. "Xander?"

Xander, clearly reluctant, admitted, "Action is his reward."

Anya, seemingly feeling unsupported, stood up and walked out the front door, her frustration evident in her hasty exit. She mumbled as she left, "Why are you never on my side?"

Xander, not wanting to let Anya go in anger, quickly followed after her, calling out, "What are you talking about? Not on your side? Anya! I am your side!" The door closed behind them, leaving a sense of tension in the room.

Dawn, turning her attention back to her sister, offered a more practical solution. "I say we reopen mom's gallery. Find someone to run it. That would take care of the long term but not the immediate need of the plumber."

Sunnydale Securities Bank

Buffy sat in the bank, a blend of nervous excitement and determination coursing through her as she waited for her meeting with the loan officer. She was dressed in a blazer, a conservative blouse, and a prim, narrow skirt. Her hair was styled in a conservative bun, giving her a polished and professional appearance. She murmured to herself, practicing her lines for the upcoming meeting, each word imbued with confidence. "This is my first big loan... Collateral? No problem... No problem... Love the tie... I'm a problem solver... Let's crunch those numbers!"

As she adjusted her skirt, she muttered in annoyance, "Stupid skirt."

Suddenly, Mr. Savitsky, the bank's loan officer, took a seat across from Buffy, catching her off guard. She quickly composed herself and greeted him with a friendly smile. "Hi."

Mr. Savitsky, professional and polite, offered his apology for the wait. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Carl Savitsky, Loan Officer."

Buffy, with a touch of humor, introduced herself with a playful twist. "Buffy Summers. Loan Applier-for." Her smile remained, and she was ready to present her case with confidence.

Mr. Savitsky nodded, acknowledging Buffy's effort as an awkward silence loomed between them. Buffy took the initiative and laid a thick file of papers on his desk, her voice tinged with a touch of self-deprecating humor. "I didn't know what you'd need to see exactly, so I brought in everything. I'm very responsible that way."

Mr. Savitsky maintained his professional demeanor as he began to sift through the papers. He handed back most of them, offering a comforting smile as he did so. "Okay. I don't think I'll need this... or these... old report cards, definitely not..."

Buffy, eager to get to the point, leaned forward and inquired, "Um, so... about my getting a loan...?"

Mr. Savitsky took a moment to assess the situation before delivering the sobering news. "Yes. Well, what we've got here is, financially, a bit of a tangle."

Buffy, undeterred, tried to inject a bit of optimism into the conversation. She gestured with a snipping motion and said, "I know. And I figured you could just cut through that tangle with scissors, where the loan is the scissors." She looked at him with hope, offering a bright smile.

But Mr. Savitsky remained focused on the reality of the situation. "Ms. Summers, the only collateral you have is your house and your mother's old business. The house itself was never fully leveraged and has been losing equity over the last several years. For some reason, Sunnydale property values have never been competitive, and re-financing's out of the question. As for your mother's business, it's been closed since her death earlier this year. If it were still a functioning business, it might have worked as collateral."

Buffy, undeterred by the obstacles, revealed her determination. "I'm looking at getting it reopened."

Mr. Savitsky acknowledged her intent but expressed a practical concern. "That's good, but until you do..."

Buffy, sensing the direction of the conversation, cut to the chase. "Are you saying you won't give me a loan?"

Mr. Savitsky, maintaining a businesslike demeanor, pointed out a crucial issue. "Well, the problem is, you have no income. No job..."

Buffy countered with a straightforward response, her hand gently resting on her pregnant belly as she made her case. "I'm also nearly six months pregnant."

Mr. Savitsky expressed sympathy as he responded, "I know. And if it were me, I'd give it to you for that fact alone. But the bank owners aren't going to see it the way I do. They're going to look at your collateral, that you don't have a job, and that your mother's business has remained closed since her death." His tone conveyed understanding, but he was bound by the constraints of the bank's policies and criteria.

Buffy's hopes were dashed as she sat there, silently crushed by the bank's decision. But in a bizarre turn of events, chaos erupted when a security guard's body crashed through a teller's window, sending glass shards flying as it landed with a thud on Mr. Savitsky's desk and rolled off to the floor.

Buffy, ever vigilant, sprang to her feet and spun around to confront a menacing M'Fashnik demon that had invaded the bank. She couldn't help but quip, her tone filled with a mix of bravado and frustration, "No job. I wish."

The bank's terrified customers scattered in every direction as they saw the demon, desperately seeking safety. The demon, in its rage, picked up a hapless bank customer and hurled him.

Buffy, taking charge of the situation, addressed the demon with determination. "Hey! Are you in the wrong line? That's for deposits, that's for withdrawals, and this is for getting kicked in the face." She prepared to launch a powerful kick at the demon but found herself immobilized by her tight skirt. Frustration welled up within her as she muttered, "Stupid skirt."

The demon's retaliation was swift and brutal. It backhanded Buffy so forcefully that she was sent hurtling through the air, crashing painfully onto Mr. Savitsky's desk. As she lay there, dazed but determined, she reached for Mr. Savitsky's letter opener just as the demon bore down on her.

With a hint of politeness even in the direst of situations, Buffy asked the loan officer, "May I?" She swiftly hopped off the desk and, with the letter opener, slit an opening down the side of her skirt. Her legs were free, and she was ready to take on the demon.

In a flurry of action, the demon lunged for Buffy, but she responded with a rapid succession of powerful roundhouse kicks to its head, sending the beast staggering back. She was ready to continue the battle when she paused, her attention momentarily diverted. With a sense of courtesy, she turned and neatly placed the letter opener back in its holder. "Thanks so much," she told Mr. Savitsky before racing back into the fray.

Buffy exchanged blows with the demon, each strike filled with strength and determination. Unbeknownst to her, the teller's money drawers were being emptied quickly and professionally by an unknown thief.

The demon, in a brutal display of strength, grabbed Buffy in a crushing bear-hug, lifting her off her feet. Buffy struggled within the demon's grasp. The sound of a gunshot suddenly pierced the air, and both Buffy and the demon turned their attention to a young and nervous bank guard who had just fired the first live round in his life.

"P-put the girl down," the guard stammered, his trembling hand still clutching the gun.

The demon, unfazed by the gunshot, hurled Buffy at the guard. She collided with him, and they both fell to the ground. Buffy quickly got up, taking the guard's gun. "These? Never helpful," she quipped, tossing the gun away. She then confronted the demon head-on, delivering a barrage of powerful punches, the final blow sending the demon crashing across the room.

The demon recovered quickly and made a hasty retreat towards the exit. Buffy tried to follow but was impeded by a crowd of customers in her way. As the demon disappeared out the door, the bank fell into an eerie silence, with all eyes turned on her.

Buffy returned to Mr. Savitsky, who stood at his desk in a state of shock. With a hint of humor, she addressed the stunned loan officer. "Now, about my loan... I'm not saying I'm charging you for saving your life or anything. But let's talk rates." Mr. Savitsky continued to look at her, dumbfounded by the extraordinary events that had just unfolded.

Magic Box

Willow observed the ongoing swordplay between Buffy and Dawn, her concern evident in her voice as she voiced her frustration. "He still turned you down?! That's crazy! I mean, okay, even if the bank was robbed — which you battling demons couldn't possibly know — you'd think there'd be some kind of reward."

Buffy swung her sword at Dawn, who skillfully blocked the attack. She continued to spar with her sister, focused on their training.

Willow couldn't contain her bewilderment at the system's logic. "But no, they're like, 'We only give you money if you prove you don't need it.' What kind of system is that?"

Buffy, slightly exasperated, responded to Willow's observation with a touch of sarcasm. "You're asking the wrong gal." Dawn swung her sword at Buffy, who ducked out of the way. "Good, Dawn," Buffy said as she swung her sword low bringing it across Dawn's feet and knocking her sister to the ground. "But not good enough."

Willow, her eyes lighting up with realization, chimed in happily. "Hey, Buffy, you're mad."

Buffy acknowledged Willow's insight with a nod and a wry smile. "You noticed." She didn't hold back her frustration. "Yeah, I am mad. Mad that I'm nearly six months pregnant and I can't get any help. I mean it's not like I can get a job. Most places aren't going to hire someone who will have to take time off in around 3 months."

Willow, her empathy for her friend apparent, watched Buffy and Dawn's training but couldn't shake her concern. "I get it, Buffy. The system can be really messed up sometimes. It's like they expect you to have it all figured out when life just throws curveballs at you."

Buffy parried Dawn's attack and nodded in agreement, her face bearing a mix of determination and frustration. "Exactly." She continued to spar with her sister, the physical exertion offering a temporary outlet for her stress.

Dawn, despite being on the receiving end of Buffy's training, chimed in with her own thoughts. "And the whole 'prove you don't need it' thing? It's just... ugh."

Buffy, sweating from the intensity of their training, responded to Dawn with a deep sigh. "Tell me about it. It's a catch-22. They expect you to be financially stable before they'll help you become financially stable."

Willow, ever the optimist, tried to inject some positivity into the conversation. "But we'll figure it out, Buffy. We always do."

Buffy gave a small, grateful smile as she continued to spar with Dawn. "Thanks, Will. You're right. We'll find a way. We always do."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Anya and Xander stood by the counter, observing Tara as she delved into researching Buffy's demon. Anya, ever straightforward, voiced her opinion. "Don't be such a wiener dog. Look at her, researching demons for the billionth time. She, Willow, Buffy, and Dawn all need a peppy boost of happy news."

Xander, determined to share the good news, replied, "You're right. I'll tell them. Soon as Buffy, Dawn, and Willow come in."

Anya playfully challenged him with a tease. "Chicken."

Xander, feeling the pressure, asked her to stop. "Would you stop?"

Anya, not one to back down, continued to goad him. "Dare you."

Xander contemplated the situation and the implications of his timing. "Anya, if I tell them we're engaged right after you dared me to… wouldn't you always wonder if that's the only reason I did it?"

Anya's expression shifted as she realized the point Xander was making, and she conceded the argument with a soft "Oh."

"Score one for Captain Logic," Xander said with a happy grin, appreciating the soundness of his reasoning.

Anya, however, maintained her perspective. "No, no. Captain Logic is not steering this tugboat. I smell Captain Fear at the wheel! God, I hate this. This tone in my voice? I dislike it more than you do, and I'm closer to it!"

Tara joined them, setting down her book and picking up another. Xander's confusion about the demon's motives remained. "I still don't get it. I mean, what kind of demon robs a bank?"

Anya, always to the point, offered a straightforward answer. "The kind that wants money."

Xander, still perplexed, inquired further. "What do you even call that?"

Tara pointed to the drawing of the M'Fashnik demon in the book and attempted to provide its pronunciation. "This," she said, "I'm guessing on how you say it. It's got an apostrophe. I think it's Mmm… Fashnik. Like 'Mmm, cookies.'"

Xander, ever the joker, suggested an alternative pronunciation. "Or maybe 'MuhFashnik,' like 'Muh… Fashnik.'"

As Buffy, Dawn, and Willow emerged from the training room, they joined the conversation. Tara showed Buffy the book and asked, "This your guy?"

Xander commented on the demon's unconventional choice of profession. "Doesn't exactly fit the profile of your typical bank robber."

Buffy nodded in agreement. "Maybe they turned down his loan application." She confirmed that the demon in the book matched the one they had encountered. "That's him. Big, bad... this thing was strong, guys. No weapons I could see but still real dangerous."

Their conversation came to an abrupt halt when Buffy noticed Giles standing in the doorway of the shop

Giles moved directly to Buffy, his concern and relief evident in his expression, and he pulled her into a warm, tight embrace. She reciprocated, holding him tightly as she felt the genuine emotion in his words. "My God, Buffy. You're alive. You're here. And you're still remarkably strong," he said, though that last part came out somewhat strained.

Buffy, realizing her strength had taken Giles by surprise, quickly responded, "Huh? Oh. Sorry." But she didn't let go and hugged him again, just as tightly, cherishing the reunion with her mentor and father figure.

Giles, still overwhelmed by the emotions of the moment, admitted, "Willow told me, but I didn't really let myself believe." He looked at Buffy, taking in her appearance, and asked with curiosity, "Especially now when I can see the physicality. How far along are you?"

Buffy answered with a hint of pride in her voice. "Nearly six months."

A warm smile crossed Giles's face as he looked at her, his pride in her evident. "Well, congratulations are in order."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Giles and Buffy found themselves seated in the training room, a quiet moment of connection and reflection between them. Their smiles held a profound mixture of nostalgia and the anticipation of what lay ahead.

Giles began, his voice tinged with gratitude and uncertainty, "So..."

Buffy picked up on his lead, her eyes glistening with curiosity as she encouraged the conversation. "I can start. How was England? How was life?"

Giles pondered his response, a touch of melancholy in his gaze as he recalled his return to England, "I'm not sure how to answer that." His tone carried a sense of longing. "I arrived home. Met with the council."

Buffy, her sarcasm laced with a hint of understanding, acknowledged the less-than-thrilling nature of council meetings. "Tons of fun."

Giles nodded in agreement, his eyes reflecting the tedium of the bureaucratic world. "Other than that, there wasn't much to report. I keep a flat in Bath. Saw a few old friends and almost made a new one, which I believe is statistically impossible for a man my age."

"And now you're back," Buffy replied, her voice laced with a mixture of relief and longing.

"Yes," Giles said, his eyes revealing a blend of emotions he struggled to convey with words.

"Wow. Giles, are you miserable about it, or just really British?" Buffy asked, a playful glint in her eyes, attempting to break the emotional tension.

"I can't lie to you, Buffy. It was difficult leaving Sunnydale. And coming back was…" Giles trailed off, his voice heavy with the weight of his emotions.

"I'm guessing the word is 'inconvenient,'" Buffy offered, her understanding and empathy shining through her words.

"You know that doesn't matter," Giles said as Buffy held his gaze, their unspoken connection providing comfort in the midst of uncertainty.

"And how are you? Really. You look tired," Buffy observed, her eyes filled with concern.

"Pregnancy can do that for you," Buffy admitted, her hand gently resting on her growing belly, a mix of weariness and anticipation in her expression.

"Well, under the circumstances, you seem to be doing remarkably well," Giles said, his voice filled with pride and affection. His eyes shimmered with the depth of his admiration for Buffy.

"Well, it wasn't all me, I just had someone stick a baby in my oven," Buffy replied with a small chuckle, a hint of self-deprecating humor masking her inner strength. "Dawn!" she called out; her voice filled with sisterly affection. She then turned to Giles. "One thing about being in Narnia for decades, it changed me. You know how I wanted to shelter her before when it came to Glory."

"Yes," Giles said, understanding the profound shift in Buffy's perspective.

As Dawn walked into the room, Buffy continued, "Now, I'm training her," her pride evident in her voice as she looked at her sister. "Grab a sword. We'll get some more training in before patrol." She then turned back to Giles with a soft smile, "Of course, it doesn't hurt that Dawn also reminds me of Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy."

Giles stood there for a moment, silently observing as the sisters both picked up swords and began dueling. He wasn't sure when Buffy had started training Dawn, but it was evident that Dawn had become quite adept with the sword. A sense of pride swelled within him as he watched the two young women, the legacy of his guidance and Buffy's unwavering determination.

After a while, Giles turned and walked back into the main room of the shop.

Summers Home

Buffy tried to make up a guest bed for Giles on the living room sofa. She had a stack of brightly colored children's sheets with Teddy Bear pictures on them. "They're all I got," she told him, her voice filled with a touch of nostalgia.

"Think nothing of it," Giles said, his tone gentle as he took a pillow and a pillowcase. "They're whimsical."

Buffy tried to tuck a sheet around the sofa cushions. "They were mine when I was little. I couldn't find the guest sheets. Mom always did this stuff." She looked at the sofa, her efforts turning it into a rumpled mess. "Hmm."

"It's a little…" Giles began to comment before catching himself. "That's fine! I'll just…" He started straightening out the couch.

"Pff. I blame the sofa," Buffy said with a playful grin. "We need a real pull-out bed. The kind with no payments 'til two-thousand-and-infinity."

"What?" Giles asked, surprised by the statement, his eyebrows arched with concern.

Buffy sighed as she sat in a chair, her arms wrapped around a pillow, clutching it close for comfort. "The money Mom left me and Dawn is gone. A good portion of it got eaten up by her medical bills. The remainder of it was taken by the utilities, food, etc. while I was in Narnia."

Giles, concerned, inquired, "How bad is it?"

"Bad," Buffy admitted with a heavy heart. "I'm kind of trying to not think about it too much."

Giles finished tugging at the sheets, the improvised bed looking neat and inviting. "A sound policy. At least for tonight."

"Yeah, I'll just put it out of my mind for a while, take a break, get some perspective," Buffy said. "Then wake up at four a.m. terrified, wondering how I am going to take care of my child and Dawn."

"Buffy, you may be putting too much pressure on yourself," Giles said gently. "To return from another world such as this Narnia… it's only natural that coming back would be a process. If it's any consolation, life can get overwhelming even for people who haven't been to other worlds as you have."

"I'm used to being a Royal," Buffy admitted, her vulnerability showing. "Having people do this stuff for me. Going back to being a regular person is the challenge."

"I assume when you say Royal, you mean Royalty?" Giles questioned, seeking clarification.

"Yeah, I was High Queen," Buffy answered with a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "Peter was High King and Edmund was just a King, and Susan and Lucy were just Queens. Our monarchy was unique as the five of us ruled Narnia jointly. How do I go back to being a regular person, Giles? With all the responsibilities that go with that?"

Giles considered Buffy's question, his wisdom and experience shining through as he spoke, "Buffy, transitioning from a role of royalty to being a 'regular' person is undoubtedly a challenge. But remember, you are still an extraordinary individual with remarkable strength and resourcefulness. You've faced insurmountable odds time and time again, and you've come out stronger."

He leaned in, his eyes locking with Buffy's, full of sincerity. "It's a process, and it's okay to lean on those who care about you. You have a support system here, and you don't have to face these challenges alone. Your friends, your sister, and, well, me – we're here for you, Buffy."

"For now, I suggest getting some sleep, and then tomorrow you and I can sit down together and go over everything. Every bill, one by one. We'll work it out together," Giles concluded, his voice filled with determination as he took a seat beside Buffy.

"I'm glad you're back," Buffy said, her gratitude evident in her eyes.

"Well, I'm glad you are too," Giles replied with a soft smile.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Willow was rummaging around in the cupboards when she heard a noise behind her. She turned to find Giles in the doorway, his expression a bit grim.

"Hey Giles," Willow greeted him, her voice filled with curiosity.

Giles closed the door behind him and nodded. "Yes, now that she's back."

"Isn't it awesome?" Willow asked, her enthusiasm shining through her words.

"Mmm," Giles responded with a hint of reservation. "Tell me about this spell you performed."

Willow was suddenly excited. "Okay. First of all — so scary. Like, the Blair Witch would have had to watch like this," she said, covering her eyes dramatically. "And this giant snake came out my mouth, and then there was all this energy crackling, and the next thing you know… Buffy." She proudly awaited his kudos.

But Giles's response was not what she expected. He looked at her with a mix of sadness and concern, his voice quiet and heavy with regret. "You're a very stupid girl."

Willow blinked, her excitement deflating as she tried to re-group. "What? Giles…"

"Do you have any idea what you've done? The forces you've harnessed?" Giles asked, his tone still laden with disappointment. "The lines you've crossed?"

"I thought you'd be…" Willow said, her voice trembling as she swallowed, "…impressed, or something."

"Oh, don't worry, you've made a deep impression," Giles said, his disappointment evident. "Of everyone here — you were the one I trusted most to respect the forces of nature."

"Are you saying you don't trust me?" Willow asked, her voice filled with concern.

"Think what you've done to Buffy," Giles said.

"I brought her back!" Willow said, her voice defensive.

"At incredible risk," Giles said, his tone unwavering.

"Risk? Of what? Making her deader?" Willow said, frustration and confusion mixing in her words.

"Killing us all. Unleashing a hell on Earth. Shall I go on?" Giles said, his voice growing sterner as he listed the potential consequences of her actions.

"No! Giles, I did what I had to do," Willow said, her voice filled with determination. "I did what nobody else could do."

"Oh, there are others in the world who can do what you did," Giles said, his tone stern. "You just don't want to meet them."

"Okay, probably not — but they're bad guys," Willow said, defending her actions. "I am not a bad guy. I brought Buffy back to the world, and maybe the word you should be looking for is 'congratulations.'"

"Having Buffy back in the world makes me feel indescribably wonderful," Giles acknowledged. "But I wouldn't congratulate you if you jumped off a cliff and happened to survive."

"That's not what I did, Giles!" Willow protested.

"You were lucky," Giles said, emphasizing the element of chance in her actions.

"I wasn't lucky, I was amazing," Willow said, her voice carrying a sense of pride and stubbornness. "How would you know anyway? You weren't even there."

"If I had been, I'd have bloody well stopped you!" Giles almost yelled, his frustration evident. "The Magicks you channeled are more primal and ferocious than you can hope to understand, and you're lucky to be alive, you rank, arrogant amateur."

Willow's expression remained calm; her eyes locked onto Giles's. "You're right. The Magicks I used are incredibly powerful. I'm incredibly powerful. And maybe it's not such a good idea for you to piss me off," she said, the tension between them palpable as they stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Willow relented. "C'mon, Giles, I don't want to fight. Let's not, okay? I'll think about what you said, and you… try to be happy Buffy's back."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn, in pajamas, descended the stairs, her expression a mixture of exhaustion and restlessness, her eyes reflecting the weight of the sleepless night she'd endured.

"Dawn?" Giles called out, his concern evident as he rose from the sofa in the living room, where he had been sitting up reading. He hurried over to Dawn; his voice laced with care. "Can't sleep?"

"Not really. You?" Dawn replied with a hint of frustration, her voice carrying a subtle tremor that revealed her inner turmoil.

Giles looked at the book, still held in his hand, and offered a sympathetic smile. "Evidently not."

"You ever try mixing parts of every cereal you got together in one bowl?" Dawn asked, a glimmer of vulnerability in her eyes, as she sought solace in an unconventional late-night snack.

"Does it work?" Giles wondered, his concern shifting into a subtle curiosity.

Dawn, her weary shoulders hunched, offered a tentative shrug. "Gonna find out. You want to join the experiment?"

"Perhaps I'll be the control group," Giles said with a touch of parental humor in his voice, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he tried to lighten the mood. "As you get older, you'll find you lose patience with throwing… up…"

Their lighthearted moment was abruptly shattered as the doorknob of the front door rattled ominously, and an unsettling tension gripped the room.

"Is that locked?" Giles asked, his concern deepening.

"Should be," Dawn replied, her voice trembling with a growing unease, just as the front door was ruthlessly smashed inward. She found herself the unexpected target of the intrusion, and with a bone-rattling crash, she was flung to the floor. Her gaze locked with Giles, a mix of terror and desperation in her eyes. "Buffy!" she screamed.

Giles, the protective instinct surging within him, took a determined step forward. But before he could intervene, the hulking M'Fashnik demon swatted him aside with brutal force. Giles collided with the banister and tumbled onto the stairs, his form limp and unconscious.

The demon, seething with anger, whirled on Dawn, his malevolent gaze fixed on her trembling form. "You're not the Slayer. But you'll do for a start," he hissed, baring his gnarled teeth. He lunged toward Dawn, his monstrous intent clear.

But just as his monstrous grip closed in, he was abruptly yanked away from her by the arrival of the indomitable Buffy, whose timely intervention disrupted his vile designs.

"You're paying for that door, buddy!" Buffy quipped with a fierce determination as she hurled the demon into the living room, where he landed with a bone-rattling thud on the coffee table, obliterating it entirely. "Ooh ... table," Buffy winced, displaying a rare moment of regret for the damaged furniture.

The demon, undeterred by his earlier defeat, flipped himself up from the floor, clutching a jagged fragment of the demolished table. Oblivious to the collateral damage he was causing, he haphazardly tossed the piece aside, which happened to knock over a nearby lamp, shattering it into pieces. Buffy's expression soured at the sight of the broken lamp.

"You have cost me, Slayer," the demon growled, his voice dripping with malice.

"I cost you?" Buffy retorted, her sarcasm cutting through the tension. "That's a designer lamp, ya mook!" she exclaimed as the demon charged at her once more. "Oh, watch the rug, watch the rug…"

In the ensuing scuffle, the demon tackled Buffy forcefully, sending her sprawling into the dining room with him on top. She rolled him over, deftly knocking him into a table leg. In the chaos, a wine decanter teetered on the edge of the table and fell.

"Gahh!" Buffy cried, her reflexes saving the wine decanter from a similar fate as the lamp. She carefully placed it back on the table, her regard for household items unwavering even in the midst of combat. Rising to her feet, she squared off against the demon.

With a powerful strike, Buffy sent the demon hurtling toward the kitchen door. But just as she anticipated a fight within the kitchen, Spike emerged to intercept the demon. He twisted the demon's arm behind his back, halting his advance. "Spike! No! I want him in the kitchen!" Buffy shouted, her voice carrying a blend of determination and frustration.

"More knives?" Spike asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Less breakables," Buffy responded, her focus on the practicality of the situation.

Spike raised an eyebrow in understanding, his trust in Buffy's tactical decisions unwavering. He held the demon in place right in front of the kitchen door, bracing for Buffy's assault. Then, with impeccable timing, he released the demon just as Buffy launched herself at him. She struck the demon with a powerful double-footed kick to the chest, sending him hurtling through the doorway and into the kitchen.

The demon flew backward, propelled by the force of Buffy's kick. "Open the door! The basement!" Buffy urgently instructed.

Without hesitation, Spike yanked open the door to the basement, his movements swift and efficient.

"I'm taking him down," Buffy declared, her voice determined and unwavering, as she grabbed hold of the demon and, with remarkable strength and agility, bum-rushed him toward the cellar door. In a whirlwind of action, they tumbled down the basement.

The demon landed with a splash in the foot of murky water at the bottom of the basement stairs. Buffy wasted no time and launched a series of fierce punches, exchanging blows with her vile adversary. She pushed him back, maneuvering him closer to the area where the pipe leak had recently been fixed.

"I have been looking forward to this, Slayer," the demon snarled, his malevolent eyes scanning for a weapon. Spotting the newly-repaired pipe, he made a quick, desperate grab for it.

"No!" Buffy cried out in dismay as she witnessed the water pressure build, causing a spray of water to erupt into the air. The demon, undeterred by the chaos, swung the pipe at Buffy with menacing intent.

In a moment of sheer, furious determination, Buffy swiftly doubled the demon over, wrested the pipe from his grasp, and unleashed her wrath upon him. Each blow echoed with her frustration, and her relentless strikes were accompanied by a fierce mantra: "Full… copper… re-pipe! No… more… full… copper… re-pipe!"

When Buffy finally stopped, the demon lay motionless in the water, defeated and broken. She stood there, breathless and victorious, her gaze unwavering.

Turning to see Spike standing on the stairs, watching the aftermath of the brawl, Buffy couldn't help but raise an incredulous eyebrow at him. "Whoa. Did you know this place was flooded?" Spike asked, displaying a hint of his characteristic cheekiness.

Buffy's response was a withering look, a gaze reserved for those she considered the most obtuse individuals on the planet.

October 16, 2001 – Tuesday

Summers Home

Buffy, Xander, Anya, Dawn, and Willow found themselves amidst the wreckage in the living room, the aftermath of their battle with the demon. Xander was hunched over the crushed coffee table, attempting to assess the extent of the damage. Willow and Dawn, meanwhile, meticulously examined the shattered lamp, trying to fit the pieces together like a challenging jigsaw puzzle. Anya sat in a corner, engrossed in mathematical calculations within a notebook, her mind tirelessly working.

Buffy sat on a chair with a taped-together back, her expression a mix of weariness, disbelief, and mild shock as she surveyed the destruction. "This is going to take forever, isn't it?" she mused, her voice carrying the weight of the situation.

"Not forever. Just, a very long time," Anya responded matter-of-factly, offering Buffy the notebook she had been scribbling in. "Here. A first approximation of your spanking new debt."

Buffy glanced at Anya's calculations, her thoughts drifting to the countless times the house had been subjected to damage in the line of her duty. "I've trashed this house so many times. How did Mom pay for all this?" she wondered aloud, her voice tinged with nostalgia and remorse.

Xander chimed in, adding a touch of humor to the situation. "For starters?" he suggested, nodding toward the crushed coffee table. "She saved money with this crappy-ass coffee table."

Anya, ever the pragmatic one, brought up another option. "There is always that 'charging' option," she mentioned.

"No. I will definitely… probably not be doing that," Buffy quipped, her exhaustion and lingering frustration evident in her words.

Giles, with a cloth pressed to his forehead, entered the room, Tara hovering around him with solicitous concern. "Well, now I know I'm back in America as I've been knocked unconscious," he dryly remarked, displaying his quintessential British understatement.

"Aw," Buffy teased with a grin. "Poor lumpy Giles."

Tara, curious about the demon's motives, asked, "What do you think that demon wanted, anyway? Aside from costing you a bundle."

Buffy, her brows furrowing, shook her head. "Dunno. And now he's way too dead to answer that question. Wish we knew who hired him."

Willow, always eager to assist, chimed in, "Maybe I could do a locator spell…" However, before she could proceed, Giles shot her a stern look, prompting her to reconsider. "Or not."

Xander, with a determined look on his face, finally made a decision about the coffee table. "It's been four hours. I'm calling it, people. This coffee-table. It's gone. Damn it!"

Dawn chimed in with a note of regret. "Also, the lamp's in critical condition."

Tara, assessing the situation, acknowledged, "The big problem here's that all the pieces are in pieces."

Willow proposed a solution, "Let's take these out to the trash and give 'em a decent throwing out." She, along with Tara, Xander, and Anya, began to gather the shattered remnants of the lamp and table, making their way to the door. The sound of their footsteps faded, leaving Buffy, Giles, and Dawn alone in the disheveled living room.

Buffy, her voice filled with weariness and frustration, confided in Giles. "Giles, I don't think I can do this."

Before Giles could respond, Dawn intervened with a supportive and uplifting question, her eyes filled with hope. "How did you handle things when you were High Queen in Narnia?"

"It depended," Buffy explained with a thoughtful shrug. "Treasury stuff was generally handled by someone else. But Peter, Edmund, Susan, Lucy, and I dealt with the White Witch's forces ourselves."

Dawn's curiosity persisted as she sought a lesson from her sister's past experiences. "So, you would have delegated the responsibility to others?" she inquired, drawing a nod of agreement from Buffy. She then turned to Giles. "Giles, I suggested to Buffy yesterday reopening Mom's gallery. It won't help with money problems in the short term, but in the long term, well, it could help. One thing is, none of us know how to run a business. You do."

Giles nodded, considering Dawn's proposal and then glanced at Buffy. "I could do that, Buffy. I could even train you to eventually be able to run it yourself."

Dawn's enthusiasm shone brightly as she turned to her sister, her eyes filled with hope. "Anya loves anything with money. Let her help you with the bills and teach you how to tackle them yourself. When it comes to the furniture, let Xander help with that. He likes building things; otherwise, he wouldn't work in construction. And if you want, he could even teach you how to make some of the repairs yourself. What do you think?"

Buffy regarded her younger sister with a mixture of gratitude and renewed determination. "I think it's a great idea," she said, a spark of optimism igniting within her. "Thanks, Dawn. And thanks, Giles. Let's do this."

The ringing phone interrupted their conversation, and Buffy commented, "Must be Angel," before leaving the room to answer the call.

Giles, puzzled by Buffy's certainty, turned to Dawn for an explanation. "Why does she think it's Angel?"

Dawn provided the missing piece of information. "She's waiting for a call from him. She's been planning on going to Los Angeles to see Faith, to tell her she forgives her and ask for Faith's forgiveness. Angel was supposed to try and get her in to see Faith."

Buffy entered the room, her face lit up with a mixture of anticipation and determination. She was accompanied by Tara, and she had a significant update to share with the group. "Angel got me a visit with Faith for tonight. Tara is going to drive me down. When we get back, I will go over my financial obligations with you and Anya, Giles. But I need to do this. As I told Dawn in Narnia, Edmund followed a similar path as Faith. I watched as his brother and sisters welcomed him back with open arms. The least I can do is, is offer Faith the same. And Giles, if she accepts, I would like to see if we can get her help to get her released from prison."

Giles, impressed by Buffy's resolve and empathy, nodded in agreement. "That's a noble undertaking, Buffy. We'll do our best to support you in this endeavor."

"Good," Buffy said. "Because I'm going to need your help, Giles. Faith is going to need a pretty good lawyer to get her out of prison."

Giles, deeply moved by Buffy's determination to help Faith, responded with a renewed sense of purpose. "Of course, Buffy. I'll do everything in my power to find a reputable lawyer who can assist in this matter. Faith deserves a second chance."

California Institution for Women

Tara parked the car outside the prison and settled into a parking space. She turned to Buffy with a supportive smile. "Do you know how long you will be?"

Buffy, her determination and nervousness intertwined, replied, "Angel said that visitations can be as long as an hour or two maximum unless they're conjugal, which is four hours. Why don't you go get yourself something to eat, and I'll call you when I'm ready to go home."

"Okay," Tara agreed, her voice filled with understanding and care. "Good luck."

Buffy nodded appreciatively and stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath as she prepared to confront her past and extend a hand of forgiveness to someone who had been a source of pain and conflict.

The room was a stark contrast to the outside world, filled with an air of tension and regret. Buffy had to fight to keep her emotions in check as she waited, each passing second feeling like an eternity. The memories of her tumultuous history with Faith, the pain, and the anger, all resurfaced, but her determination to offer a chance at reconciliation and redemption kept her focused.

When Faith was escorted into the room, Buffy felt a mix of relief and trepidation. She couldn't help but notice the transformation that had taken place over the years. The once fiery and rebellious Slayer now appeared tamed and worn by her time in confinement.

Faith's eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and wariness as she saw Buffy sitting there. "B?" Faith said, her voice laced with confusion. "What are you doing here?"

Buffy took a deep breath, her voice trembling with vulnerability as she began, "Faith, I... I came here to apologize. I had offered you friendship and then I stomped on it. When Finch died, I should have stuck beside you. If I had maybe you wouldn't have sided with the Mayor. Can you forgive me?"

Faith's eyes remained locked onto Buffy's, her expression thoughtful and contemplative. The silence seemed to stretch on, as if time itself were holding its breath, waiting for Faith's response.

Finally, after a long pause, Faith's tough exterior began to crack, revealing a glimmer of vulnerability. Her voice, though still a bit rough, carried a sense of sincerity as she replied, "B, I... I did some messed-up stuff back then. And I get it, why you couldn't trust me. But I appreciate you saying this. Means more than you know."

"I talked to Giles before I came down," Buffy revealed, her voice filled with determination. "I want to help you get out of here. He's going to help find you a good lawyer. Then, when we get you released, you can come back to Sunnydale with me if you want. We can be the Chosen Two again."

Faith's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, it seemed as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. The possibility of a fresh start, the chance to leave the past behind, and a future alongside Buffy was an offer she had never expected.

Tears welled in her eyes as she responded, her voice unsteady but filled with gratitude, "B, I... I never thought I'd hear you say that."

As Buffy slowly rose from her chair, she revealed her pregnant belly to Faith. The shock on Faith's face deepened, and she was at a loss for words.

Buffy offered a small, understanding smile. "Let's just say that I realized something."

Faith's eyes remained fixed on Buffy's belly, and her curiosity couldn't be contained any longer. "Did Soldier Boy…" she began to ask.

Buffy shook her head gently. "No, Riley left me, from my perspective, decades ago."

Faith's brow furrowed in confusion. "Decades?"

Buffy explained, her tone calm and measured, "I look good for someone that died to save my sister and spent nearly two decades in another world before Willow brought me back. A world where I fell in love, got married, and am having his child. Peter had a brother and two sisters, Edmund, Susan, and Lucy. Edmund's path was very similar to yours. I watched as Peter, Susan, and Lucy welcomed back Edmund with open arms. And it made me realize if they could do that for Edmund, I can do that for you."

Faith sat there in a stunned silence, absorbing Buffy's revelation. The weight of what Buffy had just shared was almost overwhelming. She'd known Buffy had been through extraordinary circumstances, but the idea that Buffy had lived a life in another world, one where she'd fallen in love, gotten married, and was now expecting a child, was beyond her wildest imagination.

Tears welled in Faith's eyes as the depth of Buffy's compassion and forgiveness began to sink in. "Buffy, I don't even know what to say. I never thought I'd get a second chance like this. Thank you."

Buffy's smile grew warmer, her hand gently reaching for the phone that separated them. She pressed her palm against the glass, mirroring Faith's own gesture on the other side. "You're not alone anymore, Faith. We're in this together."

"Ma'am, you have 15 minutes left," the guard informed Buffy, signaling that their time was running out.

Buffy acknowledged the guard's reminder with a nod and then returned her focus to Faith. "I got Angel to pull the strings for me to see you tonight. I need you to add me to your visitors list. Because I intend to come every single week until you're out of here."

Faith's expression softened with gratitude. "I can do that. While we're sharing secrets. There is one I want to mention. Your mom came to see me last year. She told me about Dawn, who she was. She asked me to protect her. Of course, with me being in here, there isn't much I could do. But if I had known you had died, I would have done whatever I could to get out of here and fulfill your mother's request."

Buffy's eyes welled with emotion as she absorbed this revelation about her mother's last wish. "Why are you mentioning this?" she wondered, her voice laced with curiosity and concern.

Faith leaned closer to the glass, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and reflection. "I know the memories of Dawn before last year are fake, your mom explained how our memories had been modified to believe she always been there. But I remember how the few times I was over at your house, how she looked up to me. Even after I went bad. I remember when I had your mom and her tied to that bed while we waited for you, that she kept telling me that wasn't who I was. That I was a good person. When your mom came and made her request, I realized I guess that Dawn might have been right."

Buffy's heart swelled with a profound sense of understanding and empathy for Faith. The layers of complexity in their shared history were slowly unraveling, revealing moments of redemption and goodness even in the darkest times.

Highway leading back to Sunnydale

Tara drove the car back toward Sunnydale in a comfortable silence. The weight of the evening's emotional encounter hung in the air, and she could sense that Buffy needed some time to process everything. After a while, Tara decided to gently broach the subject.

"So, Buffy," Tara began, her voice soft and caring, "how did it go with Faith? Are you okay?"

Buffy turned her head to meet Tara's gaze, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "It was... intense, but I think it went well. Faith was more receptive than I expected."

Tara nodded in understanding; her compassion evident in her eyes. "I'm glad to hear that, Buffy. You're incredibly strong for doing this."

Buffy offered a small smile of gratitude before a thoughtful question crossed her mind. "Tara, can I ask you something? How did you know you were... you know, gay?"

Tara's gaze remained focused on the road; her expression thoughtful. "Well, it took me a while to figure it out, but I realized I was different from others my age. When I met Willow, it became clear. I felt something I hadn't before, a deep connection. It's about what you feel in your heart, not what society or anyone else expects."

"Is it possible for a person who thought they were straight to suddenly have feelings for another woman?" Buffy asked.

Tara glanced at Buffy; her eyes filled with empathy. "Absolutely, Buffy. Love and attraction can be complex. Sometimes, it takes meeting the right person to discover a different part of yourself. It's about the connection and the feelings, not labels or expectations. If you find that kind of connection, it's entirely possible."

"Sitting in that prison, talking to Faith, it felt like when we were fighting side by side. I could feel back then there was something between me and Faith, but I was dating Angel. And then of course as you know there was Riley, and of course in Narnia I married Peter," Buffy said, her hand gently caressing her pregnant belly. "But sitting in that prison, it felt like..."

"Like you were attracted to her," Tara finished Buffy's sentence, her voice calm and understanding as she focused on the road.

Buffy nodded, her expression a mixture of realization and uncertainty. "Yeah, exactly. It's confusing, Tara."

Tara offered a supportive smile. "Feelings can be that way sometimes, Buffy. What's important is that you're being true to yourself and exploring your own heart."

As the car continued to carry them back to Sunnydale, Buffy was left with much to ponder, but she also felt a growing sense of acceptance and understanding within herself, knowing that her feelings were valid and could be explored in her own time.