Chapter 4: Life Serial
October 17, 2001 – Wednesday
Summers Home
Buffy swung the front door open as she and Tara, who held a bucket of chicken, walked through the door. The room was bathed in the warm, golden glow of the setting sun, casting a nostalgic and comforting ambiance. Buffy closed the door as she called out, "Hello!" Her voice was filled with an air of anticipation, eager to reunite with her loved ones.
"Buffy? Tara?" Willow called from the dining room, her voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and mild anxiety.
"Yeah, it's us," Tara replied in a soothing tone, her smile radiating warmth and love.
"And we picked up dinner on our way back into town," Buffy said as she and Tara walked into the dining room. Her voice was cheerful, and the delicious aroma of fried chicken filled the air. "Deep-fried chicken parts. Hope everyone's hungr—"
Their footsteps faltered, and they exchanged bewildered glances as they saw Willow, Giles, and Dawn at the table, having just finished dinner. It was a peculiar sight, as though they had stumbled upon a secret gathering. The atmosphere grew heavy with unspoken tension, and the room suddenly felt like a clandestine haven of conspirators.
"You ate," Buffy said, disappointment evident in her voice, her eyes reflecting a hint of betrayal and confusion.
"No!" Giles blurted out, a knee-jerk reaction to the unexpected situation. Then, as the truth sank in, he looked around at the table and sighed, his posture slumping with a mixture of guilt and resignation. "Um, well... Yes, obviously."
"They probably didn't know when we would get back," Tara admitted, her voice laced with empathy, understanding the situation from their perspective.
"What Tara said," Dawn chimed in, her words holding a trace of innocence as she tried to deflect any blame.
"More of me and Tara then," Buffy said, her voice still tinged with disappointment but softened by her affection for the group.
Giles looked to Willow and Dawn pointedly, his eyes betraying a hint of amusement. "Well, I don't know about everybody else, but I'd love some chicken."
"I'll take a drumstick," Dawn said, her youthful enthusiasm returning, as if the tension had melted away like butter.
"I'm a breast girl myself," Willow said with a mischievous grin. "But then you all know that," her words carrying a hint of a private joke, which elicited a few chuckles.
Dawn studied Buffy, her gaze curious and expectant. "So...?"
Buffy looked around at the eager faces of her sister, Giles, and Willow, and she took a deep breath. The room was now filled with a sense of anticipation, a longing for her to share the unspoken secret. Her voice remained calm, yet carried the weight of her revelations.
"Willow, you and Xander were about the only ones who didn't know I was going to see Faith, because I didn't know how you two would react," she confessed, her words revealing the trust she had in her friends. "Dawn was the first to know since I told her my reasons when I told her about Narnia. I asked Tara to drive me to L.A. And Giles knew because I asked him before we left if there was a way, we could help Faith."
Willow's eyes widened with surprise and curiosity as Buffy revealed the truth. She took a moment to absorb the information, her features shifting from initial bewilderment to a mixture of understanding and concern. It was as if a puzzle piece had fallen into place, connecting some previously missing part of the story.
Her voice was soft, tinged with a hint of concern. "Buffy, you know we would've supported you, right? We're your friends."
Buffy's words were tinged with a sense of understanding and acceptance. She appreciated Willow's support, but also recognized the complexities of the situation. "I know you would have," she said, her voice soft and filled with gratitude, "but I also know how you and Xander feel about Faith."
Willow nodded in response, her gaze thoughtful and sympathetic. She couldn't help but recall all the harm Faith had caused in the past, including her near-fatal encounter with Buffy.
"I get it," Willow said, her voice carrying a touch of apprehension, as she remembered the darker moments involving Faith. "Sometimes, it's hard to let go of the past, especially with everything Faith had done. It's not about whether we trust someone or not; it's about dealing with that history."
"And that's why I didn't tell you and Xander," Buffy said. "I thought you two might have talked me out of going."
Buffy's voice carried a hint of vulnerability as she continued to explain. Her words were filled with a sense of hesitation and a touch of regret. "And that's why I didn't tell you and Xander," she admitted. "I thought you two might have talked me out of going."
Willow's expression softened, her eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and understanding. "I see," she said, her voice gentle and reassuring. "Buffy, we trust you, and we know you always make the best choices, even if we sometimes disagree. We're here to support you, no matter what."
As Buffy shared the intense details of her meeting with Faith, a palpable hush fell over the room. Her voice carried the weight of the difficult conversation she'd had, and her vulnerability was apparent as she continued.
"Anyways, it was... intense. Faith and I talked, and I apologized for what happened in the past," Buffy revealed, her voice bearing the sincerity of her intentions. She glanced down at her pregnant belly, her touch tender and protective. "I offered to help her find a good lawyer to get her out of there. And..." Buffy hesitated for a moment, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty, "I offered her a chance to come back to Sunnydale with me once she's out."
Willow's eyes widened as she absorbed Buffy's words. The room was charged with a mix of surprise and contemplation, and Willow's expression shifted between understanding and concern. Her voice was gentle, tinged with a hint of curiosity and empathy. "Buffy, that's a big step, offering her a chance to come back," Willow said, her words carefully chosen. "But I can see where you're coming from, wanting to help her." She extended a supportive hand, her trust in Buffy's judgment unwavering. "We'll be here for you, no matter what happens."
Buffy's gaze shifted toward Dawn, her words revealing a significant piece of information, and her expression now held a blend of concern and love. "Faith mentioned that she knew about you being the Key," she began, her voice carrying a protective tone. "She said before Mom passed away that Mom had gone and visited her in prison. Mom had asked that should anything happen to me that Faith protect you. Faith agreed, and she told me that if she had known I was in Narnia away from you, she said she would have broken out and fulfilled Mom's request."
Dawn's eyes welled up with tears as she processed the significance of her mother's request and Faith's willingness to protect her. It was an emotional moment for her, and she felt a profound sense of gratitude and connection to her sister's former adversary. "Wow," she whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and understanding. "I always knew she had good in her. But to hear this just proves I was right."
Willow, too, was deeply moved by the revelation. The weight of her past grievances with Faith seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of empathy and forgiveness. She now saw a different side of Faith, one willing to make amends and protect those Buffy held dear. She turned to Buffy, her expression softer and more understanding than ever before. "Buffy, this changes everything," she said, her voice filled with sincerity. "It's clear that Faith is trying to be good, and she's willing to make amends. I think it's time I let go of the past and give her a chance."
"Then you're alright if we can get her released that she comes and moves in with us?" Buffy asked, her words carrying the sincerity of her intentions. "I want to give her what she was denied when she first arrived in Sunnydale."
Willow's eyes filled with a newfound sense of understanding and acceptance. She had come a long way in her feelings towards Faith, and this request from Buffy was a testament to the bond of trust and compassion they all shared. "Yeah," she replied, her voice laced with sincerity and a warm smile. "I think it's time. Let's give her that chance."
Giles nodded as he continued the conversation, concern and support in his eyes. "Buffy, there was some discussion during yours and Tara's absence about… Well, about what you're going to do. I told Willow about your plans to reopen your mother's gallery. But I'm talking about in the interim."
Buffy nodded in acknowledgment. "Well, of course you, Anya, and I still need to go over the finances," she said. "But other than that. I was thinking it might not be a bad idea while you and Anya are teaching me how to run Mom's gallery and how to manage the finances. That I might go back to college, maybe get a business degree. But sadly, I missed the registration cut-off."
Willow's face lit up with a supportive suggestion. "Well, even if it's too late for late enrollment, and too early for early, you could still come to classes with Tara and me," she offered, her tone encouraging.
Tara chimed in, her voice gentle and supportive. "Right. You can audit for the rest of the semester, until registration."
Buffy considered the idea, her expression reflecting a sense of relief. "Audit," she said with a smile. "Okay. That seems like a pretty good plan."
October 22, 2001 – Monday
U.C. Sunnydale
"This is gonna be great," Buffy said with a touch of excitement in her voice, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she and Willow walked into the sociology classroom, amid a few other students flowing in and taking their seats. "I mean, I thought it might be weird being back. And, it is, a little, but it's a good kind of weird."
"Oh, there's the teacher. Mike," Willow said, pointing out the teacher, who was in his mid-thirties, a vaguely cool academic-type. "You'll like Mike."
Buffy's surprise was evident as she raised an eyebrow and remarked, "You call your teacher 'Mike?' Wow. School sure has changed since my day."
"Technically speaking, it's only been a half a year since you were last in a class," Willow said with a hint of nostalgia in her voice.
"For you, yeah. For me, it's been nearly thirty years," Buffy gently reminded her friend.
Mike was writing on the blackboard before turning to the class. "The 'Social Construction of Reality.' Who can tell me what that is?" His voice held an air of authority and wisdom, instantly drawing the attention of the students.
Buffy glanced around the classroom, taking in the eager hands that shot up, including Willow's, and a few others. There was an atmosphere of intellectual curiosity and enthusiasm in the air.
"Rachel?" Mike said, nodding to one of the students, his voice encouraging.
Rachel answered quickly and confidently, her tone reflecting a deep understanding of the subject. "A concept involving a couple of opposing theories," she began, "One stressing the externality and independence of social reality from individuals..."
Mike acknowledged her response with a thoughtful nod. He then turned toward the rest of the class, his eyes scanning the sea of raised hands. The anticipation in the room was palpable.
"And the flip side?" Mike asked, his question prompting a new flurry of hands being raised.
Buffy was taken aback as hands shot up around her, a testament to the students' readiness to engage in the discussion.
"Steve?" Mike said, turning his attention to another eager participant.
"That each individual participates fully in the construction of his or her own life," Steve said confidently, providing his interpretation of the concept.
Mike, keeping the discussion brisk, continued to engage the class, asking, "Good. Who can expand on that?" As expected, hands shot up again, eager to delve deeper into the topic. "Chuck?"
Buffy listened intently, her brow furrowed in concentration, but feeling increasingly overwhelmed by the complexity of the discussion in the modern-day classroom.
"Well, those on the latter side of the theoretical divide stress that social reality is actively constructed and restructured by individual actors," Chuck explained, offering a more detailed insight into the topic.
Buffy leaned in toward Willow and whispered, her voice filled with a touch of frustration, "Will, I'm not following this too well."
Willow reassured her with a warm smile and a hint of amusement in her eyes. "The trick is to just get into the rhythm, go with the flow," she whispered as her own hand shot up to participate.
Buffy couldn't help but let out a soft sigh, feeling somewhat out of place among these brilliant students. "Flow-going might be easier if your classmates weren't all big brains."
Willow, with a reassuring look, countered, "Buffy, that's ridiculous. They're no smarter than you or me. After all, you did rule Narnia for decades. That had to take a good deal of smarts, right?"
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
After class, Willow and Buffy walked down the dimly lit hallway away from the classroom, their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. Willow looked at Buffy with a reassuring smile and a hint of empathy in her eyes. "You're not dumb, Buffy. Just... rusty," she offered, her voice filled with genuine concern.
Buffy, however, couldn't help but shake her head, her expression a mixture of self-doubt and frustration. "You call being in Narnia for nearly thirty years and away from a setting like this 'rusty'?" She asked, her voice tinged with a sense of unease. "I think it goes beyond just being rusty, Will."
As they continued to walk, Tara joined them, her voice soft and soothing as she inquired about Buffy's day. "Hey, how'd it go?"
Willow turned to Tara and offered a warm smile, her eyes reflecting her understanding of Buffy's predicament. "She did fine," she reassured Tara, her tone trying to lift Buffy's spirits. "Sociology's not her favorite, that's all."
Tara's surprise was evident as she raised an eyebrow. "She didn't like Mike?"
Buffy couldn't help but reiterate her feelings. "As I just told Willow," she began, her words tinged with a touch of vulnerability, "it's not that I didn't like the teacher. It's just that for me, it's been nearly thirty years since I took a college course."
Willow and Tara, understanding the emotional turmoil within their friend, exchanged a knowing glance. Willow took Buffy's arm gently, offering her support. "Buffy, it's perfectly okay to feel this way. You're incredibly brave for coming back to college after all you've been through. We're here to help you through it, every step of the way."
Tara, her eyes radiating kindness, added, "And you've got us. We'll study together, and you'll see, it'll get easier with time. You're not alone in this, Buffy."
"Thanks guys—Oof!" Buffy said, her gratitude interrupted as she was bumped hard by a guy rushing past them, sending her books scattering across the floor. She stumbled a step but managed to stay on her feet, though her expression displayed annoyance and surprise.
Unbeknownst to Buffy, Willow and Tara, the guy who had knocked into her discreetly brushed something onto her sweater as he passed.
Willow, her protective instincts triggered, called after the guy with an indignant tone. "Hey! Could at least say sorry, rude-o." She quickly bent down to help Buffy pick up her scattered books.
Tara watched the guy disappear into the bustling hallway. "Everybody's in a hurry."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Buffy and Tara made their way to a nearby bench, where Tara paused to search through her bag. As she continued to talk, Buffy's attention was piqued when Tara pulled out an art textbook and handed it to her. Buffy studied the book for a moment, her curiosity evident in her expression.
Tara chuckled and tried to explain the content of the book. "You'll enjoy it. It's very mellow," she said, her voice carrying a sense of calm and tranquility. "You just look at pretty pictures and say, 'Ooh, what pretty—'"
But before she could finish her sentence, Buffy's senses were abruptly disrupted by a strange, high-pitched buzzing drone that seemed to fill her ears for a fleeting moment before vanishing. Startled, Buffy's gaze darted around, and she noticed something even more baffling. Tara had seemingly moved instantaneously and was now sitting down on the bench, as if she had teleported.
"—didn't think she liked my cooking, until I figured out that look was her 'yummy' face. Y'know how her nose—" Tara said, seemingly oblivious to the bizarre occurrence.
Buffy's voice trembled with a mix of confusion and concern as she interrupted Tara. "What was that?"
Tara, on the other hand, seemed bewildered by Buffy's question. "What was... what?" she asked, her brow furrowing in perplexity.
Buffy couldn't help but look around, still trying to process the odd occurrences. "That noise. And what was that about cooking? Whose 'yummy face?'" She questioned, her furrowed brows revealing her ongoing confusion.
Tara explained, a hint of amusement in her voice, "Willow. Wow... You really got engrossed in that Renaissance book."
Buffy gave a puzzled frown. "I guess. Must've spaced out," she admitted. She decided to take a short break and walked over to the nearby water fountain, bending down to drink, trying to collect her thoughts.
Tara, ever understanding and patient, continued with her story. "I do that sometimes. Once, Willow and I were watching SpongeBob Square—"
As Buffy bent to drink from the fountain, the inexplicable drone sound returned, causing her to straighten up in surprise. When the noise ceased, Tara was no longer on the bench, but down at the far end of the hall.
"Buffy!" Tara called, waving to get her attention. "Are you coming? We're gonna be late for class."
Buffy's frown deepened, her confusion and concern reaching a breaking point. "What the f—" She rushed down the hallway, determined to catch up with Tara, who had just entered the classroom.
"Tara!" Buffy called after her friend, reaching the door and about to open it when the strange drone returned. As the bizarre sound disappeared again, students began pouring out of the classroom, nearly colliding with Buffy in their rush to leave.
"Buffy," Tara said, emerging from the classroom, her voice filled with worry. "Where've you been? You missed art class—"
Buffy's confusion was mounting, and she felt like the world was slipping out of her grasp. She tried to explain, "Missed—? Tara, something freaky is going on. It's like I'm losing—"
But her words faded as she looked up at the clock on the wall. It displayed 11:51. The strange drone returned, and in an instant, the clock's hands spun wildly, and the time jumped to 12:12.
Buffy's eyes widened in shock. "There! Did you see—?" She turned to face Tara, but her friend had vanished into thin air.
"Crap!" Buffy muttered under her breath, a sense of urgency coursing through her. She ran out of the building, determined to find Tara
Buffy ran outside, desperation in her voice as she tried to reach Tara. "Tara! Wait! Come..." she yelled, her words trailing off as she noticed the strange drone returning, and the world around her speeding up.
The surroundings transformed into a disorienting blur of motion, and Buffy was relentlessly buffeted by the rushing crowd, her body slammed again and again. The chaos left her sprawled on the ground, pain surging through her as she felt her arm badly injured. The droning sound continued, growing louder and higher pitched, intensifying her distress.
Desperate to escape the relentless torrent of people, Buffy crawled beneath a table, seeking refuge from the chaos. There, she carefully examined her injury, wincing in pain. It was then that she noticed a small gray square clinging to the back of her sweater. She plucked it off, studying it closely for a brief moment before it disappeared with the tiniest of explosions.
Suddenly, the drone was gone, and the world around her returned to its normal pace. Buffy emerged from under the table, her head spinning from the bewildering experience. As she looked up at the sun, she realized that she had lost several hours of time, and it was now late afternoon.
October 23, 2001 – Tuesday
Summers Art Gallery
The art gallery stood silent and still, a place filled with memories of Buffy's mother. As he had promised Giles had come to assist her learning in how run the gallery. As they walked through the empty space, Giles began imparting his knowledge.
"Buffy, running a business, especially one as personal as this gallery, is about preserving your mother's legacy while making it your own," Giles began. "You should start by assessing the condition of the artwork and making an inventory. This will help you understand what you have and what may need restoration."
Buffy nodded, taking in the space that held so much of her family's history. "I know, Giles. I took the weekend and begun cataloging the pieces, but it's a lot of work."
Giles gave her an encouraging smile. "Indeed, it is. But it's an essential first step. It will also allow you to determine what kind of insurance coverage you need to protect the collection."
As they continued their walk, Giles pointed out the importance of reaching out to art appraisers and experts to understand the value of the pieces and whether any of them might need restoration or preservation. "Restoration can be expensive," Giles explained, "but it can significantly increase the value of a piece."
Buffy's face showed her concern. "I want to do right by my mom's collection, Giles, but I'm not sure how to handle all of this."
Giles placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You're not alone in this, Buffy. You can hire experts to help with the restoration and appraisal process. But you should also consider the gallery's vision – what kind of art you want to showcase and what atmosphere you'd like to create."
Buffy took a deep breath, absorbing his words. "I want to maintain the elegance and warmth that my mom always had here. And I'd like to host events or exhibitions to keep the gallery alive."
Giles nodded in agreement. "That's a wonderful idea. Events can bring people in and create a sense of community around the gallery. Marketing will be crucial to letting people know you're open for business again."
Buffy looked around the gallery, imagining it bustling with art lovers and visitors once more. "I'll need to hire staff and figure out the financial side of things, too, won't I?"
Giles patted her on the back. "Yes, you will, but I'm confident that you have the ability to make this gallery thrive. Your mother would be proud of you for carrying on her legacy."
As Buffy and Giles concluded their tour, an unsettling feeling crept over her, causing her to glance back toward the gallery's shadowy corners. Something was amiss.
Giles noticed her unease and inquired, "What is it?"
Buffy's instincts went into overdrive. "I'm not sure," she admitted, her eyes darting around the room.
Without warning, a menacing figure approached Giles from behind. Buffy's Slayer reflexes kicked in, and she reacted swiftly, tossing Giles aside just in time to face off with a mangy, simian-like demon. The demon swiped the air with its gnarled three-fingered claw, the force of its attack narrowly missing Giles.
Giles hit the floor with a thud, his head striking the base of a pedestal, leaving him semi-conscious.
Buffy, now focused on the immediate threat, prepared to engage the demon when she heard a sinister presence approaching from her right. She took a step back, sizing up the demons, her heart pounding with adrenaline. It was then that a third demon leaped in behind her, and Buffy realized she was outnumbered.
"Come on, I'm already having to pay for repairs at home. Can't you guys leave my future source of income alone?" Buffy muttered, her determination shining through. She swiftly picked up Giles and slung him over her shoulder, then sprinted straight out of the gallery, hoping the demons would follow her.
The creatures, drawn by her provocation, pursued Buffy and Giles into the outside world, setting the stage for a showdown between the Slayer and the malevolent demons.
Streets of Sunnydale
After setting Giles down in a safe location, Buffy turned back to face the menacing demons. Her Slayer instincts were in full force as she prepared to take them on. With lightning speed, she spun into a roundhouse kick, her boot connecting solidly with the head of the third demon. The force of her strike sent it staggering backward, while the other two demons charged her.
Buffy swiftly kicked the second and third demons, launching them into a nearby wall. She turned her attention to the first demon, delivering a powerful punch straight to its head, knocking it to the ground. Buffy's eyes scanned her surroundings and she spotted a nearby shovel. With a decisive move, she grabbed it and jammed the shovel down onto the first demon's throat, swiftly decapitating it.
Before she could process the bizarre reaction of the first demon dissolving into thick foam and melting into the ground, Buffy had to deal with the remaining two. She focused her efforts on the one nearest to her, snapping its neck with precision against a nearby fence. Like its comrade, this demon too melted and bubbled away into nothingness.
Spotting a window washer lift nearby, Buffy led it underneath and with a powerful push, she slammed the lift down atop the last demon, crushing it. The final demon disintegrated in the same unsettling fashion as the others, leaving Buffy to ponder the strange circumstances surrounding their abrupt dissolution.
As the aftermath of the battle settled, Buffy rushed back to where she had placed Giles in a safe spot. Her heart still pounded with the adrenaline of the fight, but her attention was now fully on her wounded mentor.
Gently, she crouched down beside him and started to pat his cheek. "Giles, come on, wake up," she urged, her voice filled with concern.
Giles groaned softly, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly regained consciousness. He blinked a few times, disoriented, but the familiar presence of Buffy reassured him. "Buffy... what happened?" he mumbled, his head throbbing.
Buffy offered him a comforting smile, relief washing over her. "We had a little run-in with some not-so-friendly demons in the gallery," she explained, her tone calm despite the recent battle. "But you're safe now."
Giles gradually pushed himself into a sitting position, holding his head as he tried to shake off the lingering effects of the impact. "It seems I missed quite the excitement."
Buffy chuckled softly, helping him steady himself. "Yeah, but you're here now, and that's what matters. We sent those demons packing. Any idea what they were after, Giles?"
Giles shook his head, his expression still somewhat groggy. "I'll look into it tomorrow while your training with Anya at the Magic Box on how to deal with customers."
October 24, 2001 – Wednesday
Magic Box
"This is going to be great," Buffy said, enthusiasm in her voice as she walked and talked with Anya. Her shirt featured a name tag that proudly declared, 'Hi, I'm BUFFY. Ask Me About Curses.'
They approached Giles, who was busy piling books on a table. Buffy took a seat next to him while Anya headed to the counter. "Is this all for researching those demons?" Buffy asked, glancing at the books, "Or some kind of stress test for the table?"
Giles let out a small chuckle, appreciating Buffy's humor even in the face of danger. "For the demons and what happened with the time-anomaly on Monday," he explained. "They could be unrelated events, but if they're not, you're in some danger."
Buffy couldn't resist a playful retort. "So, situation normal, then."
Anya returned, carrying a thick binder filled with information. "Let's review," she began. "You record returns here. And these are the forms for special orders, they're shipped wherever the customer wants. And these are the hold slips."
Giles chimed in, adding more context to the training. "Fill out two hold slips for each item."
Anya continued, eager to share her knowledge. "And make sure you pull the item off the shelf. I can illustrate with an amusing story about a crystal..."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Buffy stood by the window as she waited for a customer she could service to arrive. The bell on the door chimed, and a woman entered the gallery. Giles, who had joined her, offered a piece of advice based on his experience. "Buffy," he began, "A little advice. While I ran the store, I found it helpful to imagine I was back in the library. If you concentrate on service, not making a sale, then you're more likely to have a satisfied customer."
Buffy, with a hint of sarcasm, replied, "That's good for you, Giles. But that might not work for me, especially since I never actually worked in the library."
Giles nodded understandingly, acknowledging the difference in their approaches. "Yes, you should try and find your own style of doing things," he agreed just as Anya walked over to them.
Anya, with her straightforward demeanor, didn't waste any time. "That woman," she told Buffy, "go sell her something."
Buffy was about to approach the woman when she was intercepted by a male customer who had been contemplating two candles, one yellow and the other brown. He asked her, "Miss? Which candle creates a more, you know, romantic atmosphere?"
Buffy seized the opportunity and picked up the yellow candle, sniffing it with an approving sound. "Mmm. Lemon Seduction. Nice," she commented. She then reached for the brown one, only to recoil at the scent. "Eerrhm," she said, making a face of distaste as she glanced at the label. "Essence of Slug." Without hesitation, she put down the brown candle and handed him the yellow one with a smirk. "Here ya go."
The male customer took the yellow candle and headed toward the cash register, leaving Buffy free to assist the woman who had entered the gallery with a unique request.
"I need something for a prosperity spell," the woman explained. "I heard you had it — A Mummy Hand."
Buffy, with her quick wit, couldn't resist a playful quip. "Oh, I saw one downstairs, but it was kind of hairy," she replied, earning a smile from the customer. "Probably a Daddy Hand," she added with a chuckle. "I'll get it."
Buffy hurried to the back of the shop, prepared to fetch the Mummy Hand from the basement storage area. She grabbed a plastic 'Magic Box' bag along the way, and, as she descended into the dimly lit basement, her eyes scanned the shelf-labels, searching for the desired item.
"Petrified Hamsters, the Dagger of Lex, eyeballs in honey, Mummy hand..."
Buffy finally located the peculiar item – a desiccated human hand wrapped in ancient, tattered linen. She reached out to touch it, but to her shock, the hand came to life, leaping up and seizing her by the throat. Panic surged through her as she thrashed around blindly, desperately trying to free herself.
In her struggle, Buffy's hand closed around the Dagger of Lex, and with a swift, determined motion, she wrenched the hand off her neck and plunged the dagger into it. The hand instantly sagged lifeless, falling to the ground.
Buffy stood there, gasping for breath, staring at the eerie, motionless hand that had just attacked her.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Buffy held the impaled and oozing Mummy Hand out to the woman, her tone trying to make light of the situation. "And you get the Dagger of Lex for free. See the inlaid pearl there, um, under the oozing black goo?"
The woman, however, was not amused and seemed unimpressed. "This hand is dead," she remarked, her voice stern. "The power's gone. I'm not giving you money for this."
Buffy, bewildered by the bizarre turn of events, looked down at the hand. "It's playing dead. Little scamp."
But just as she uttered those words, something inexplicable occurred. The Mummy Hand and Dagger of Lex vanished from her hand, and in an instant, she found herself back at the window, just as the woman entered the gallery once again.
As Buffy stood there, still reeling from the disorienting experience, Giles approached her, offering his advice once more. "Buffy, a little advice…" he began.
Buffy, her thoughts still in turmoil, responded with bewilderment, "Huh-what-huh?"
Giles continued, his voice steady, "While I ran the store, I found it helpful to imagine I was back in the library. If you concentrate on service, not making a sale, then you're more likely to have a satisfied customer."
Buffy, now more alarmed by the strange repetition of the conversation, tried to convey her concern to Giles. "We did this just now," she said urgently. "We already did this. Giles, something's happening!"
Giles, however, seemed distracted and preoccupied. "Yes, yes. Quite right," he replied absentmindedly, not fully grasping Buffy's unease.
Anya intervened, her directness cutting through the confusion. "Go help the lady who just came in," she instructed, taking charge of the situation.
As Buffy hesitated, trying to make sense of the unusual situation, Anya gave her a gentle push toward the approaching woman. "Don't be nervous. Do what I do. Picture yourself naked," she quipped with her typical bluntness.
"Miss?" the male customer called out as Buffy passed by him.
Buffy swiftly grabbed the yellow candle and handed it to him. Then, she hurried over to the woman who was now approaching her.
"Hi. I'm looking for something really specific. I heard you carry it—" the woman began to explain.
Buffy, however, cut to the chase. "Mummy Hand?" she finished for the woman, who looked at her with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "You had that Mummy Hand look. Um... I'm sorry, I can't get that for you."
The woman remained determined, reminding Buffy of her earlier phone call. "I called twenty minutes ago, and someone said you had one," she insisted.
Buffy struggled to explain, her words faltering. "Yeah, but there's a... there's a thing happening..."
The woman, however, was resolute and unwavering. "You have one, and I was told I could buy it, and I'm sorry, but I really need to hold you to that. I'm not leaving 'til I get a Mummy Hand."
Realization washed over Buffy as she considered the woman's persistence. She let out a sigh, acknowledging the inevitable. "Then... I guess... I guess I have to get it for you," she said with a mix of resignation and determination.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
With caution, Buffy approached the Mummy Hand, her senses on high alert. She held a pair of tongs in one hand, ready to grasp the eerie artifact, and in the other, she held the Dagger of Lex, just in case she needed to defend herself once more.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
As the woman gazed into the shopping bag, her expression turned to one of appalled shock. The contents of the bag were not at all what she had expected.
"Fingers sold separately," Buffy quipped, offering a playfully mischievous response, though it didn't alleviate the woman's dismay.
But just as before, in a surreal twist of déjà vu, everything reset once again. Buffy found herself back at the window, the Mummy Hand had returned to its place in the basement, and the woman was once again entering the store.
Buffy made a different choice this time, heading straight for the stairs that led to the basement, bypassing the woman who had once again entered the store.
Anya, who had expected Buffy to assist the customer, was taken aback by her actions. "Where are you going?" she asked, concern in her voice.
Buffy continued her course, responding with a touch of frustration, "That lady needs a Mummy Hand."
Anya, perplexed by Buffy's behavior, voiced her confusion. "What? You haven't even talked to her!"
Buffy let out a sigh, realizing that explaining her experiences might not lead to a satisfactory understanding. "Anya, I could explain. But you'd just forget it," she said with resignation.
Anya, however, remained worried about her friend. "I'm worried about you," she admitted. "Retail's an exciting, fast-paced world. Is this whole day going too quickly for you?"
"No," Buffy replied to Anya's inquiry, a deep sense of perplexity and frustration lingering in her words. "I don't think that's exactly the problem."
As Anya walked away, Giles approached, his words mirroring the earlier advice he had given. "Say, Buffy, a piece of advice. If you think of the store as a library…" he began, polishing his glasses, "...you'll find you can concentrate on service, instead of selling."
Buffy couldn't resist a touch of humor as she responded, her quip carrying an air of disbelief. "Yes! And then I'm gonna marry Bob Dole and raise penguins in Guam."
Giles, clearly distracted, simply nodded in agreement. "Yes, yes. Quite right."
Resigned to the repeating cycle, Buffy decided to take matters into her own hands. She didn't even pause as the male customer sought her attention, instead grabbing the same yellow candle she had handed him in the previous iterations and tossing it to him. With determination, she called over to the woman, "Mummy Hand, right? You got it, lady."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
As Buffy and the woman stood at the counter, attempting to complete the transaction, an eerie and unsettling turn of events occurred once more. The Mummy Hand, seemingly imbued with a malevolent force, had the woman by the throat, gripping her in a tight and deadly hold. Buffy, her strength and determination on full display, struggled to pull the sinister artifact off the customer, their struggle becoming increasingly desperate.
But just as it seemed the situation might escalate into something truly dangerous, everything reset for the third time. The woman entered the gallery yet again, oblivious to the bizarre cycle that had unfolded. Buffy, feeling a sense of helplessness and frustration, briefly considered giving up and walking out of the front door, hoping to break the cycle. However, that desperate attempt proved futile as, once again, everything reset, trapping her in the inexplicable and disorienting time loop.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
As the time loops continued to repeat, Buffy's frustration grew with each iteration. She found herself in a series of strange and disorienting scenarios, each one more perplexing than the last.
In one loop, Buffy stared at the Mummy Hand, which had inexplicably seized the tongs and was waving them at her in a threatening manner, clacking them menacingly.
In another loop, Buffy took a different approach, playfully causing chaos. On her way over to the woman, she passed the male customer and grabbed the brown candle, flipping it up into the air. As the male customer caught it, she offered a cheeky comment, "If you like slug, go with the slug. She's not gonna sleep with you anyway."
In yet another loop, Giles approached Buffy, ready to dispense his advice. But this time, Buffy's frustration got the best of her, and she impulsively grabbed his glasses, throwing them to the floor before stomping on them.
In another loop, Buffy's desperation led her to launch herself at the woman, accusing her of being the cause of the bizarre time loops as she grabbed the woman by the throat.
In yet another loop, Buffy took a more direct approach and threw the candle at the male customer.
In a different scenario, Buffy was overwhelmed, simply standing and crying loudly as everyone around her stared in bewilderment.
The relentless repetition and the strange, inexplicable events that unfolded in each cycle had pushed Buffy to her limits. She was determined to break free from this bewildering time loop and uncover the source of the mysterious anomalies, no matter how frustrating or perplexing the situation became.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
In her final attempt to resolve the ongoing loop, Buffy stood before the woman, a sense of defeat in her expression. She tried to explain, "I know we promised you a Mummy Hand. It's just… I can't get it for you. It's… something's wrong with it. It's defective."
The woman, still determined and not willing to leave empty-handed, questioned her in disbelief. "Defective? Are you sure? There must be something you can do. I simply can't go without it."
Buffy, a glimmer of hope dawning in her eyes, slowly began to smile as an idea formed in her mind. "But there's no way to get…" she started and then, with renewed enthusiasm, she continued, "...to get that hand. But I can special-order one. We can deliver it anywhere you want!"
The woman's expression shifted from disappointment to satisfaction as she considered Buffy's solution. "Really?" she asked, pleased with the prospect of finally obtaining the coveted item.
Buffy led the woman through the transaction, ringing her up for the Mummy Hand and helping her fill out the necessary form for delivery. She offered a warm farewell, saying, "Thanks for shopping at the Magic Box!" as the woman handed her the form back. Buffy beamed with pride, relieved that she had finally broken free from the time loop.
Giles, always the supportive mentor, congratulated her with a smile. "Congratulations! Your first sale."
Anya, on the other hand, noticed a discrepancy in the transaction. She looked at the form the woman had filled out and expressed her discontent. "You didn't charge for delivery," she pointed out, her tone tinged with frustration.
Giles, ever the diplomat, tried to soothe the situation. "Oh dear. Well, it's your first day," he consoled Buffy. "It was bound to happen."
Anya, trying to be helpful, offered a solution. "I'll just take it out of your pay."
Buffy, however, had reached her limit. She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of exasperation. "What pay, Anya? I was working for free while you guys were supposed to be teaching me to be a business owner. But I got stuck in a freaking time loop."
With that, Buffy removed her name tag and set it down, a clear sign of her frustration. Without another word, she quietly headed for the door.
Spike's Crypt
Buffy looked at Spike with a mix of frustration and determination, her emotions still raw from the recent challenges she had faced. She reached for another shot glass and downed the whiskey, even though she clearly didn't enjoy the taste. "Bleagggh," she groaned, sticking her tongue out and shuddering.
Spike joined in, taking a drink of his shot while listening to Buffy's words. Her next statement hinted at her growing frustration. "Life is stupid," she mumbled, clearly exasperated.
Spike couldn't help but comment with a sardonic tone, "I have a dim memory of that, yeah. And I didn't figure you were here cadging my whiskey 'cause life is all blood and peaches."
Buffy continued, her voice reflecting her unease. "There's this thing... someone's doing stuff to me. Messing up my life," she admitted.
Spike listened, his gaze steady, as he comprehended the gravity of Buffy's situation. "So, you're just, what?" he asked. "Gonna let this—whoever—play you 'til it figures out what kills you?"
Buffy leaned in closer to Spike, her voice carrying a mix of determination and frustration. "Giles is working on it," she reassured him.
Spike, ever the cynic, couldn't resist a sarcastic remark. "Oh, good. 'Cause Giles, he wields the Mighty Force of Library Books."
Buffy poured them both another shot and challenged Spike, "You'd do better?"
Spike accepted the drink and took a moment before responding. "Damn right," he said with confidence. "I'd hit the demon world. Ask questions, throw punches, find out what's in the air. Fun, too." He tossed back the shot with a devil-may-care attitude.
Buffy, however, was less enthusiastic about his idea. "It's not my kind of fun," she admitted.
Spike, who had a unique perspective on the world of demons and the supernatural, had a different point of view. "Yeah. It is," he asserted. "And your life's going to get a lot less confusing when you figure that out."
Buffy downed her drink, still not enjoying the taste. "Bleeeegh."
Spike, never one to miss a chance to engage in some banter, leaned in and remarked, "You're a creature of darkness, like me."
Buffy, in her uniquely defiant style, countered, "I'm a Royal. High Queen of Narnia. Queens aren't creatures of darkness."
Spike rolled his eyes at her response. "Try on my world, see how good it feels."
Buffy, undeterred, reached for the bottle to pour another drink but found Spike's flask was empty. She looked at him and asked, "Are there drinks in your world?"
Spike responded with a sly smile.
The Alibi Room
Buffy followed Spike into the dimly lit, vintage bar, her senses instantly assaulted by the distinct atmosphere of the place. She looked around, taking in the old jukebox playing a melancholic tune, the polished bar, and the eclectic mix of human and demon clientele that populated the establishment. Spike, with his characteristic swagger, entered as if he were a regular.
With a hint of irritation, Buffy commented, "Your motorcycle is loud."
Spike leaned casually on the bar, and the bartender, whose reptilian features were impossible to miss with lizard-like eyes and a subtly forked tongue, acknowledged him with a hiss, "Ssspike."
Spike didn't seem fazed by the supernatural bartender as he handed over some cash and placed an order. "My usual, Dave. And one for the lady." He glanced at Buffy and added, "We're headin' for the back room, pet. That's where the real action is."
Buffy and Spike, each with a drink in hand, ventured into the back room of the bar. As they entered, Buffy couldn't help but notice the cases of liquor lining the walls, giving the room an aura of secrecy and mystery. In the center, a demon poker game was in full swing.
Spike leaned in and spoke softly to Buffy, his tone conspiratorial. "These lowlifes know everything happens in this town."
But Buffy, in her usual fashion, was a bit too candid. "Oh good, these are the lowlifes," she quipped, her voice louder than intended.
Spike sighed but played along. "Fine. Little louder," he remarked, then stepped over to the poker game. "Boys. What's the game?"
Four demons were seated around the table, and they all turned to look at Spike. There was a Small Demon with lobster-claw hands, a Rat-Faced Demon with tiny red eyes, a Slime-Covered Demon, and a Loose-Skinned Demon.
"You know the game, Spike," the Slime-Covered Demon said. "You in?"
But the Small Demon was less welcoming, expressing his concerns. "He kills our kind. Don't let him in."
Spike seized the Small Demon by his lobster-claw hands, lifting him out of his chair as if to interrogate him. But before he could question the demon, Buffy intervened.
"Ask him if he's heard—" Buffy began, but Spike shoved the Small Demon aside and promptly took his seat at the poker table.
Buffy was somewhat puzzled. "You're gonna play cards?" she asked incredulously.
Spike smiled politely at the other players and gave Buffy an affectionate pat on the shoulder. "I need a moment with my lady," he explained as he got up and moved aside with her.
Buffy, however, was resolute in her intent. "You want to play, that's fine. I'm sticking to the plan. Who do I kill first to get information?"
Spike, ever the pragmatist, put an arm around her, attempting to keep her temper in check. Speaking softly, his lips close to her ear, he advised her, "Listen. These guys talk while they play. We'll get more information out of their mouths than out of gaping holes in their corpses."
Buffy thought it over and eventually nodded, realizing that Spike's plan was more likely to yield results.
Spike settled into his seat and declared, "I'm in. Everyone all right with that?"
The demons exchanged glances, and it seemed that Spike's presence was accepted. "Ante up," the Loose-Skinned Demon said, and each of the demons produced a live kitten, slapping them down into a basket on the table.
Buffy was clearly taken aback by this revelation. "Kittens?! You're playing for kittens?" She voiced her exasperation, her concern for the animals apparent.
Spike, on the other hand, took the situation with his usual nonchalance. He leaned forward and asked, "So, who wants to advance me a tiny tabby, get me started? C'mon, someone's got to stake me."
Buffy, much to Spike's chagrin, volunteered. She laughed sloppily as she spoke, "I'll do it. You thought I was just gonna let that lie there?"
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Spike had managed to lay down a straight flush and was gathering the last of a large pile of kittens into his basket. Buffy, on the other hand, had wandered off to the side, bottle and shot glass in hand.
The demons at the poker table commented on Spike's incredible luck. "You're lucky today, Spike," the Slime-Covered Demon noted.
Spike, ever the charmer, credited his success to his companion. "Got my good luck charm with me," he said, nodding toward Buffy. However, Buffy didn't share his enthusiasm and vocalized her displeasure after downing a shot. "Bleeeegh," she said with a grimace.
The Rat-Faced Demon, clearly frustrated by their losses, accused Spike of cheating. "You cleaned us out. No one's that lucky."
The Loose Skinned Demon joined in, voicing his doubts, "I'm starting to think you cheat."
Spike vehemently defended his honor, clearly insulted by the accusations. "Me? I cheat? He's got X-ray vision!" He pointed toward the Rat-Faced Demon, who was using his supernatural abilities to gain an unfair advantage.
The Rat-Faced Demon quickly rebutted Spike's claim. "I'm not using it."
The situation escalated when the Loose-Skinned Demon stood up and accused Spike of cheating, revealing a card that had been hidden within the wobbly sheets of skin on his arm. "We're not the ones cheating! I had no idea that was there. I could have leaned on that days ago."
The Slime-Covered Demon, sensing the tension, suggested that Spike should leave, warning, "Better go, Spike. This could get ugly."
The Rat-Faced Demon continued to taunt Spike, expressing his disgust with both Spike and Buffy. "Got ugly the second he walked in. Him and his human."
The Loose-Skinned Demon, unable to resist making one last dig, commented on Buffy's appearance. "Her skin's so tight I don't know how you even look at her."
Spike, now thoroughly insulted, jumped to his feet as the demons all stood up, ready for a confrontation.
The Slime-Covered Demon offered Spike an ultimatum. "Leave your winnings and get out," he said, attempting to defuse the situation. "We'll forget the whole thing."
Spike was quick to suspect a trap. "Ahh! It's a set-up, in't it?" he challenged. "Squeeze a few quid out of the vamp? Tell you what you didn't count on, though. Me and the bird. You want a fight, you face the two of us." Spike looked at Buffy, expecting her to support his decision.
Buffy, while quite inebriated, made her stance clear. "I'm not getting into a bar fight! I'll beat 'em up for information, great! But not to defend your right to gamble for kittens! Which, by the way, is a stupid currency!"
Defensively, the Slime-Covered Demon offered a feeble justification for their choice of currency. "They're delicious," he explained.
Spike, undeterred and seemingly eager for a brawl, tried to persuade Buffy. "C'mon, Slayer! A big fight's just what you need!"
But Buffy was resolute. "Forget it," she said firmly. "'M not playing by anyone else's rules anymore. I'm done." With that, she grabbed Spike's basket of kittens and tipped it over, letting the adorable creatures scatter in all directions, their tiny mewls filling the air.
The demons were distraught as they watched the kittens scatter. "No! Hey! The money's getting away!" they lamented.
Buffy, however, encouraged the kittens to embrace their newfound freedom. "Scamper! Be free!" she instructed, paying no heed to their complaints.
Spike was incredulous at the sight of the fleeing kittens. "I won those!" he protested.
Buffy shoved Spike aside and left the back room in frustration. He followed her, concerned and trying to understand what had gone wrong. "What's wrong, love?" he called after her.
In her drunken state, Buffy poured out her frustrations and disappointments. "What's wrong?" she ranted. "You were gonna help me! You were gonna beat heads! But you're completely lame! Tonight sucks! And the person I came to spill my guts to, because my friends don't understand what it's like to go from being a Royal to a regular person, is a neutered vampire who cheats at Kitten-Poker!"
Spike was taken aback by Buffy's comment about his cheating. "Oh. Saw the cheating, did you?" he asked, somewhat surprised.
Buffy didn't dwell on that point. Instead, she pointed out another obvious fact. "Also, I think you're drunk," she observed.
Determined to leave the bar, Buffy walked out the door, and Spike continued to follow her.
Streets of Sunnydale
Spike rushed out of the bar, catching up to Buffy just as she came to a halt outside, her gaze fixed on a van.
Buffy pointed at the van and said, "That van."
Spike, always up for an adventure, responded, "You wanna steal a van, I'm with you, love. But we've got the motorbike."
Buffy, however, was focused on the van. "I've seen it before," she explained. "Yesterday at the gallery when Giles was teaching me how to run a business." She unsteadily began moving toward the van, while Spike hung back.
As Buffy approached, a large and intimidating Horned Demon, with wings and a triceratops-like face, suddenly leaped out from behind the van, shouting, "Rrrrrrgg! You have discovered me! Do not even try to defeat me, for I have been testing you and know all your weaknesses!"
Behind the demon, the van suddenly sped away.
Buffy swung wildly at the Horned Demon, her drunken state making her movements clumsy. She managed to kick the demon, knocking him back, but the unsteadiness of her actions caused her to fall on her butt.
Spike quickly came to her aid, trying to help her get back on her feet. However, Buffy, fueled by her inebriation, swatted at him and insisted, "'M okay. I got it. Get off me."
The Horned Demon, meanwhile, staggered dramatically and declared, "I am well struck! I call upon the misty portal to my demon dimension. There to lay my head and gently die." He threw something to the ground, creating a puff of smoke that obscured him from Buffy and Spike's view.
When the smoke cleared, the demon had disappeared. Buffy exclaimed, "He blew up. Did you see it?"
Spike nodded and confirmed, "I saw. He's gone."
Buffy, still feeling the effects of the alcohol, mused, "Got to love that. Makes ya feel strong, ya know? Powerful..." After a moment, she realized her level of intoxication and added, "Kind of sick..."
Summers Home
Giles sat on Buffy's bed, his face etched with concern as he watched her walk into the room from the hallway. Her pale complexion and the traces of distress on her face were evident. "Feel better?" he asked softly, genuine worry in his voice.
Buffy looked at him, her eyes revealing a mix of vulnerability and exhaustion. Her recent ordeal had taken a toll on her, and it showed in her response. "For a second there I actually turned completely inside out," she replied with a shudder, her voice tinged with unease, having just thrown up the contents of her stomach, including the alcohol she had consumed. "But yeah, better."
Giles, feeling partly responsible for what had transpired, lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry I didn't find this demon with my research," he apologized, his tone filled with regret. "I'd like to have saved you the fight."
Buffy nodded, her voice reflecting a sense of understanding and forgiveness. "That's okay," she said with a weak smile. "It wasn't much of a fight. I got lucky." She sat down next to him, her shoulders slumped with the weight of her own self-doubt. "Giles, I'm really screwing up."
Giles reached out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, his concern evident in his eyes. "You were being sequentially tested by an unknown demon," he reassured her gently. "I don't see how that's screwing up."
Buffy's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she confessed her inner turmoil. "No, it completely is. Because I let it set the rules," she admitted, her voice quivering. "And even worse, I let all you guys do the same thing!"
"I don't…" Giles began, his brow furrowing in confusion as he tried to grasp Buffy's situation and her feelings.
Buffy looked at him with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. "I'm a Royal trying to be a regular person," she reminded him, her voice laced with the weight of her internal struggle.
Giles nodded, his eyes reflecting his understanding of the complexity of her predicament. "I have been thinking about that, Buffy," he admitted, his tone thoughtful. "I think what I am going to do is offer to become your business partner. The profits, of course, will be yours as it is your business; I will simply take a modest salary. But this way you're not overly stressed while you acclimate back to being a regular person, as you put it."
Buffy's eyes filled with gratitude, and a warm smile graced her lips. "Thank you," she said, her appreciation evident in her voice.
Giles continued with a gentle smile, wanting to ease her worries. "I've also taken care of your current household bills," he added, his gaze steady and supportive. "The least I can do since I have been sleeping on your couch rent-free for a week."
Buffy's eyes widened in surprise, and she shook her head in disbelief. "You're doing too much," she said, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and concern.
"Nonsense," Giles countered firmly, his dedication to Buffy's well-being unwavering. "If you really want, think of it as backpay from your time as a Slayer over the course of the last five years." He leaned in a little closer, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I also have one last thing. I've gotten Faith a lawyer who believes she can get Faith released. After all, there was literally no evidence she killed either person. The stake she used to kill the deputy mayor was very likely dusted with the next vampire she fought. And the knife, unless I am mistaken, it…"
Buffy completed his thought, her voice holding a mix of realization and hope. "Is lying somewhere in the rubble of the school," she confirmed.
Giles nodded, his expression thoughtful and resolute. "As I thought," he said, "which means her conviction could be overturned."
October 25, 2001 – Thursday
California Institution for Women
Buffy entered the dimly lit prison visiting area, the heavy steel door clanging shut behind her, leaving her with a sense of isolation. The harsh fluorescent lights cast cold shadows as she walked towards the small, reinforced glass partition that separated her from Faith, who sat on the other side.
Faith's demeanor was a mix of guardedness and curiosity, her gaze meeting Buffy's. She offered a simple nod in greeting. "Hey, B."
Buffy settled into the hard plastic chair, the creaking sound emphasizing the stark environment. Leaning in closer, her voice lowered to a confidential tone, she began to share the extraordinary events that had unfolded during the past week, her eyes filled with a mix of excitement and concern. "Faith, you won't believe the crazy stuff that's been happening."
Faith leaned in, her intrigue evident in her expression. "Crazy how?"
Buffy started to recount the series of bizarre events, her words echoing in the sterile surroundings. She spoke about the inexplicable time anomaly that had sped up time, robbing her of precious hours in mere moments. Then, she delved into the violent encounter with the three demons outside the gallery, detailing how they had attacked her and the surreal, intense battle that followed.
But the most bewildering part, Buffy explained, was the never-ending time loop she had experienced within the Magic Box. She described the surreal repetitions, each cycle more confusing than the last, as she struggled to serve a customer searching for a Mummy Hand, all while trapped in this mysterious temporal anomaly.
Faith listened intently, her brow furrowing with each new revelation. "Sounds like you've been through the wringer, B. What caused all this?"
Buffy sighed, her eyes reflecting the perplexity of the situation. "Some demon," she replied with a shake of her head. "Giles is looking into it, but so far he hasn't found it. A couple of good things came out of this week though."
Faith leaned in; her curiosity piqued. "What are the good things, B?" she asked, a spark of hope glimmering in her eyes.
Buffy's lips curled into a small, reassuring smile. "Well, first off, Giles is going to be my business partner in running the gallery," she began, the words carrying a sense of optimism. "He's taking a modest salary, and the profits will all be mine, but it should help me adjust to being a regular person."
Faith's eyes widened in surprise and appreciation. "That's awesome, B," she said, her voice laced with gratitude.
Buffy's smile widened, and her gaze held warmth as she continued, "And the other good news is, Giles got you a lawyer who believes they can get you freed from jail."
Faith's expression shifted from surprise to a mix of disbelief and hope. "Are you serious, B?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.
Buffy nodded, her determination to help her friend unwavering. "Yeah, serious as a stake through a vampire's heart. We're gonna get you out of here, Faith. You know I know only the highlights; I don't know everything about you."
Faith hesitated for a moment, her guarded exterior slowly softening. "You don't really want to know my story, B," she said, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.
Buffy's gaze remained steady, unwavering. "I do," she countered, her sincerity shining through. "Or I wouldn't have asked."
Faith's gaze shifted down to her folded hands, her shoulders tense as she hesitated, wrestling with the ghosts of her past. The sterile visiting area seemed to close in around her, but she knew Buffy deserved to hear the truth.
Finally, her voice trembled as she began to speak. "Okay, B. It's not a pretty story, just so you know." She took a deep breath. "My parents... they weren't exactly the poster parents, you know? They were abusive. Not just physically, but..." She paused, her eyes misting with painful memories. "Emotionally. They humiliated me, made me feel like I was nothing, like I didn't matter. It wasn't about love in my house; it was about control and power."
Buffy's expression softened with empathy, and she reached out a hand to rest on the glass partition, as if offering her support across the divide.
Faith continued, her voice growing steadier as she found the courage to share. "I... I ran away when I was young, B. I had to. I couldn't take it anymore. I lived on the streets, did whatever I had to do to survive. It was brutal, but at least it was my own kind of brutal."
Tears welled up in Faith's eyes as she revealed the painful truth about her past, and she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of relief that she had finally shared this part of herself with someone who cared.
Faith's voice trembled as she continued, her gaze distant as she relived those painful memories. "While I was living on the streets, I got word that my dad had been killed. It was a... a relief, in a twisted way. He was never a father to me, just a monster. But that wasn't the end of it, B."
Buffy's heart ached for her friend, and she listened with unwavering support.
Faith's voice grew even softer, as if the mere act of speaking these words made them more unbearable. "My mom, she... she became a prostitute. I found out one night that she was with some john, and... he killed her, B. He killed her, just like that, like she was nothing. I couldn't even say goodbye. She was gone, and I was on my own."
As Buffy listened to Faith's harrowing story, her heart ached for the woman sitting on the other side of the glass. In the midst of the darkness that Faith had experienced, a newfound admiration and attraction blossomed within her, and she realized she was slowly beginning to fall in love with the brunette Slayer.
Buffy's voice was soft and tender as she asked, "How did you meet, Diana?"
Faith looked at Buffy, her expression a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "I, of course, at the time didn't know she worked for the Council," she admitted, her voice tinged with a touch of self-doubt. "I was still living on the streets when I tried to pick her pocket. I knew later she took me in because of my being a Potential, but at that point, I thought maybe she had taken me in out of pity."
"Despite the fact I was a Potential, she gave me, for the only time ever, a loving home," Faith said, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and sadness. "She taught at Cambridge, and we were just sitting down to dinner one night when I was called as a Slayer. It came as a shock to us both."
Buffy nodded in understanding, her heart heavy with the knowledge of what was to come. "And then she was killed by Kakistos."
Faith's gaze dropped, and she nodded in confirmation. "Yeah," she replied in a subdued tone. "And once again, I ran. This time, as you know, I ran to Sunnydale, and the rest of the story, you know."
Buffy couldn't help but smile, her curiosity getting the best of her. "Just out of curiosity, what about those stories you told when you arrived in Sunnydale?" she asked. "The wrestling naked with alligators and the one where you saved a priest and his congregation butt naked? Are they true?"
Faith chuckled; her expression unapologetic. "Actually, they are," she said, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint.
Buffy let out a laugh, a genuine one that lightened the heavy atmosphere in the prison visiting area. "Well, that's something I never thought I'd hear. Naked alligator wrestling."
Faith's smirk widened, and her eyes held a playful gleam. "Yeah, you can add it to the list of things I never thought I'd do as a Slayer. We've all got our quirky adventures, I guess."
Highway
Tara sat behind the wheel of the car, the gentle hum of the engine filling the silence between her and Buffy. They were on the road, headed back to Sunnydale from the prison. The drive was a chance to reflect and process everything that had transpired during the visit.
After a while, Buffy broke the quiet. "Tara," she began, her voice tinged with hesitation. "I need to talk to someone about something."
Tara glanced over at Buffy, her warm and understanding eyes encouraging her to continue. "Of course, Buffy. What's on your mind?"
Buffy took a deep breath, her gaze focused on the passing scenery outside the car window. "I think... I think I might be falling in love with Faith."
Tara's eyes widened with surprise, but her response was gentle and compassionate. "Oh, Buffy. That's a big thing. Tell me more."
Buffy's voice was soft and vulnerable as she continued, the weight of her emotions evident. "It's just... I can't stop thinking about her. When she talks, when she smiles... I feel this connection, like something deeper than friendship." She gently rubbed her pregnant belly, her thoughts briefly drifting to Peter. "The only other person I felt like this with is Peter," she confessed, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Of course, time separates me and Peter, so I will never get back together with him. And I know he would want me to move on."
Tara's empathetic eyes met Buffy's, offering comfort and understanding. "We knew you were attracted to her, since you confessed that on the car ride back to Sunnydale last week," she recalled. "It's natural that attraction might blossom into something more."
Buffy sighed, a mixture of apprehension and longing in her expression. "I just don't know if Faith feels the same way or if she even could after everything she's been through."
Tara gave Buffy a reassuring smile, her gentle wisdom providing solace. "It's worth exploring, Buffy. Open up to her, share your feelings. Sometimes, taking that risk is the only way to find out if there's something more between you."
Author's Note: All the Way is being skipped. Given Buffy and Dawn's relationship is much different in this story than in canon I saw no reason for Dawn sneaking out with Janice and hooking up with the vampires. Next episode will be Once More with Feeling. I wanted to have Buffy, like in canon with the heaven reveal, reveal her feelings for Faith in song.
Also, Spike's love obsession will eventually grow into a friendship. There will be no doomed relationship for Spike in this story. Because of the friendship he will still get his soul though.
Faith will be out of jail one way or another by the end of Tabula Rasa. I have a couple ways of possibly doing it, the retrial is one. Another is Angel or one of his team break her out for some reason.