Chapter 25: Dead Man's Party
September 4, 1998 – Friday
Summers Home
Buffy unpacked her duffle bag and put away her clothes, tucking them into the same old drawers and spots in the closet where they'd always gone before. She was still reeling from Dawn's slight. She couldn't believe her sister would ever be that mean.
She picked up her coat, then went down the hall to her mom's room. She walked in as her mother was swinging a hammer at a nail she'd positioned on the wall. "Mom," Buffy began.
Joyce jumped and missed the mark. Her final blow with the hammer bounced into the wall, leaving a half-dollar sized hole in the wallpaper. "Oh, Rutherford!"
Buffy winced. "Sorry."
Joyce smiled. "No, no. Don't worry about it." She looked at the floor for a moment. "It's no problem. Look—" she raised a mean-looking mask from the dresser and hung it on the nail. The hole conveniently disappeared. "Do you like it?"
Buffy thought the mask, a half-face thing with slashes for eyes and a line of ugly, sharp yellow teeth, was awful. Still, she tried to cover her reaction. "It's, um, really…" No good. "I think I'd go with the hole."
"It's Nigerian," Joyce said. "We got a very exciting shipment in at the gallery. I thought I'd hang a few pieces in here. It cheers up the room."
The mask glowered darkly from the wall. "It's angry at the room," Buffy said. "Mom, it wants the room to suffer."
Joyce gave Buffy a look. "You have no appreciation of primitive art—" She broke off as she saw Buffy's coat and a shadow passed over her face. "You going out?"
Buffy swallowed. "If…if it's okay. I'd like to find Willow and Xander. Besides I want to give Dawn some space."
Joyce nodded; she was sure of what had transpired between her children. "I understand. You hurt her, Rutherford. She said you two were so close that you even shared secrets. Your leaving…she's been angry at you. Give her some time, she'll come around." She then inhaled. "So…will you be slaying?"
Buffy tried a small smile. "Not unless Willow and Xander give me lip."
"Can I make you a sandwich or something before you go?" Joyce asked with false brightness. "You must be starving."
"I was until that four-course snack you served me after dinner."
"Well, then," Joyce said, reaching for her purse on the dresser. "You know, why don't I drive you? I mean, they could be anywhere—"
"Mom," Buffy broke in, "if you don't want me to go, just say so."
Joyce stopped, as though she suddenly realized what she was doing. "No. I want to put this whole thing behind us." She bit her lip. "You go—have a good time."
"Okay." Buffy backed out of her mom's bedroom before this clumsy conversation could pick up again. Then, because she felt she should, she stuck her head back inside. "Thanks."
Joyce jumped and hit the wall again with the hammer.
Streets of Sunnydale
Sunnydale at night.
Buffy had almost forgotten how quiet and peaceful it could be, how deceptive. Like now, as she strolled along the sidewalk, passing houses where she could see the glow of lamps and televisions behind the curtains. Nothing moved, not even a cat or—
Wrong.
Up ahead, a noise, like someone knocking over a garbage can down an alley. Could be a dog, but it might be something far, far worse. Instinct demanded Buffy check it out.
She turned noiselessly into the alley. There, on the other side of a garage, was a man. Tall and dark-headed, dressed totally in black, an outfit meant to blend him into the background. She crept closer, focusing on her target and almost ready to grab hold of the back of his jacket—
—then her foot came down on a soda can.
Crunch!
The guy whirled and his hand came up. Everything in Buffy's vision fixed on the object in his hand, the same weapon that was swooping down and headed right for the center of her chest:
A stake.
Buffy caught the piece of wood on the downward swing, using a concentrated effort not to flip the person who held it. After all, if he was hunting vampires, he had to be one of the good guys. It took her one fast second to recognize the face behind the stake.
Xander.
They stared at each other, his expression a mixture of fright and surprised happiness.
"Didn't anyone ever warn you about playing with pointy sticks?" she asked with a small smile. "It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye."
She held onto the stake, but Xander was still stunned. "You…shouldn't sneak up on people like that." He stood there for another beat, then shook his head in disbelief. "Geez, Buff." Then they were hugging and starting to laugh—
A vampire exploded through the rotting wood of the garage wall behind them.
It grabbed Xander but let go as it got a solid kick in the side from Buffy.
Both of them advanced on the stunned vamp, stakes in hand; both of them stopped when they each realized the other was ready to handle it. "Oh," Buffy said. "Go ahead."
Xander bowed out. "No, you go—"
But he seemed so capable. "No," she insisted. "It's—"
A shrill electronic squawk cut her off, then a tinny voice erupted from what Buffy realized was a walkie-talkie hooked to Xander's belt.
"Come in, Nighthawk. Everything okay?"
She looked at Xander dubiously. "Nighthawk?"
Embarrassed, Xander fumbled at the device on his belt just as the vampire used their distraction to leap for Buffy. She went down under its weight, straining to keep the thing's snapping teeth away from her neck. The sound of running footsteps filled her ears and suddenly the vamp was gone, yanked off of her by two more people—Cordelia and Willow. They hurled it against the wall and tried to hold the struggling thing in place.
"Hello?" Cordelia gasped. "This would be dust time!"
Stake raised, Oz dashed up with Xander, but the girls were no match for the strength of the vampire. It kicked Oz out of the way, then one hard lurch sent Willow rolling onto Oz and Xander while Cordelia reeled backward into Buffy.
"Oh!" Cordy said in surprise. "Hey, Buffy—"
Behind her the vampire's mouth opened wide. Buffy gave Cordelia a shove that sent her into the rapidly growing pile of friends on the ground, and hammered the stake home.
Another vampire, dusted.
Buffy turned to face her friends as they sprawled on the ground at her feet and stared up at her. Finally she said the only thing she could think of.
"Hey, guys."
Giles' Apartment
The Scoobies waited as Buffy approached the door and reached for the heavy door knocker. Buffy hesitated and looked back at them. "Are you sure it's not too late? Maybe we should come back tomorrow."
Buffy squirmed beneath her friends' gazes. She started to reach for the door knocker again, then stopped once more. "What if he's mad?"
Xander raised one eyebrow. "Mad? Just because you ran away and abandoned your post and your friends and your mother and your sister and made him lie awake every night worrying about you?" He gave the others a skeptical look. "Maybe we should wait out here."
Buffy frowned at him, took a big breath, and finally knocked three times.
There was a nervous pause, then the door swung open. Giles stood there as a whole bunch of emotions played across his features. Relief won, but he still seemed unable to speak.
"Check it out," Xander threw in. "The Watcher's back on the clock. And just when you were thinking career change, maybe becoming a 'Looker' or a 'Seer'—"
"Thank you, Xander," Giles said quietly. He and Buffy stared at each other, until at last his face softened and he motioned them all inside. "Welcome home, Buffy."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
The Scoobies sat comfortably on two couches in Giles's living room.
"I got in a few hours ago," Buffy told them, "but I went to see Mom and Dawn first."
"Yes, of course," Giles said. "And how did you find them?"
Buffy's answer held a hint of humor. "Well, I pretty much remembered the address."
A corner of Giles's mouth lifted. "I mean, how are things between you?"
"Dawn called me, Rutherford," Buffy admitted sadly. "It stung the way she said it. I never would have expected her to be that mean."
"Your mother told me that she's not been in a good place since you left," Giles informed her as they heard the sound of the teakettle whistling in the kitchen. "Ah, excuse me."
"I know," Buffy said sadly as Giles got up and went to turn off the hot water. "Mom told me that she took my leaving the hardest because of how close we used to be."
"Okay," Oz said deciding to change the subject. He knew how hard it was for a someone who was transgender to be called by their deadname. He remembered when he started his own transition how much it had hurt when people called him Danielle. "You're not wanted for murder anymore."
Buffy grinned. "Good. That was such a drag."
"So, where were you?" Xander asked eagerly. "Did you go to Belgium?"
Buffy looked at him as though he'd suddenly grown an extra head. "Why would I go to Belgium?"
Xander made his eyes go wide. "I think the relevant question is 'why wouldn't you?' Bel-gium!"
They all laughed. "What about you, Xander?" Buffy asked. "What's up with you?"
"Oh, you know." Xander shrugged. "Same old, same old—"
"Right, then," Giles said from the doorway. "Tea's on."
Cordelia leaned forward and snagged a cookie from the tray. "Okay, were you, like, living in a box or what?"
Buffy hesitated. "It's…a long story."
Xander grabbed his own snack. "So, skip the heart-warming stuff about kindly old people and saving the farm and get right to the dirt—"
"Perhaps Buffy could use a little time to adjust," Giles interrupted. "Before we grill her on her summer activities."
"What he said," Buffy put in, looking relieved.
"Fair enough." Xander sat back. "In fact, you can leave the slaying to us while you settle in. We got you covered."
"I noticed," Buffy said, folding her arms. "You guys seemed down with the slayage. All tricked out with your walkies and everything."
Cordelia frowned. "Yeah, but the outfits suck. This whole Rambo thing is so over. I'm thinking sportier—like Hilfiger, maybe."
"Still," Willow put in enthusiastically, "we're getting good. I mean, we dust, like, nine out of ten."
"Six out of ten," Oz whispered in her ear.
"Six out of ten," Willow repeated, still enthusiastic.
"Whatever," Xander said. "We've been kicking a little undead booty."
Buffy nodded. "Well, thank you for the offer, but I think I just want to get back to my normal routine. You know, school, slaying, kid stuff." She glanced at Xander. "In fact, I'm jonesing for a little brainless fun. What are you doing tomorrow?"
Awkward silence fell over the group. "Oh, I would," Xander finally said as he put a hand on Cordelia's arm. "But I'm kind of tied up."
Cordelia smiled slyly at him. "You wish."
Buffy turned to Willow. "What about you, Will?"
Willow blinked. "Tomorrow? I…"
"Oh, come on," Buffy prompted. "Friends don't let friends browse alone."
Willow glanced at Oz, hesitated, then shrugged. "Okay. I had some school work, but…I can change my plans."
Giles cleared his throat. "As for school, Buffy…you know you'll have to talk with Principal Snyder before—"
"On it," Buffy agreed. "Mom is making an appointment with His Ugliness."
"It may be tough going," Giles commented. "He's quite emphatic about a Buffy-free Sunnydale High."
"No problem," Buffy said. "I'm bringing The Intimidator. One look at 'Mom Face' and I know she can break him."
September 7, 1998 – Monday
Sunnydale High School
"Absolutely not. Under no circumstance."
The Intimidator's 'Mom Face' faltered as she and Buffy sat across from Principal Snyder. Buffy, unhappy but not particularly surprised, felt sorry for her mom as Joyce's expression went to disbelief.
"But…you can't keep him out of school!" Joyce exclaimed. "You don't have the right!"
Snyder gave them a thin-lipped smile that showed all his little teeth. "I have not only the right but also a nearly physical sensation of pleasure at the thought of keeping him out of school. I'd describe myself as tingly."
"Rutherford was cleared of all those charges," Joyce said hotly.
Snyder happily tapped his fingertips together. "Yes, and while he may live up to the not-a-murderer requirement for enrollment, he is a troublemaker, destructive to school property and the occasional student, and his grade point average alone is enough to…" He smiled dreamily. "I'm sorry. Another tingle moment."
Joyce looked at him incredulously. "I don't see how you can be so cavalier about a young man's entire future!"
The principal leaned forward. "I'm quite sure that a boy with talents and abilities such as Rutherford's will land on her feet." He looked positively gleeful. "In fact, I noticed on the way in this morning that Hot-Dog-On-A-Stick is hiring." His gaze cut to Buffy. "You'll look so cute in that hat."
Buffy stood. "Let's go, Mom."
"This isn't over," Joyce told Snyder as she moved to follow Buffy. "If I have to, I'll go all the way to the Mayor."
Snyder just sat there, unaffected. "Wouldn't that be interesting."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Out in the hallway, Buffy saw Giles coming toward them. Obviously, he'd been trying very hard not to look like he was waiting for the outcome. "Well, how did it go?"
"Have you ever noticed his teeth?" Joyce asked fiercely. "They're like tiny, little rodent teeth—"
"Oh, dear," Giles said.
"Horrible, gnashing little teeth. You just want to pull them out with pliers."
Giles blinked at her. "Perhaps there's some way he can be overruled," he said as they moved farther down the hallway.
Buffy watched them go, knew they were discussing her 'situation.'
Suddenly the bell rang and students poured from the classrooms lining the main hallway, moving smoothly around her like she was a pebble in the middle of a river. She felt about as big, too, when no one noticed her or so much as said 'hi.'
If Snyder wouldn't let her back into Sunnydale High, what was she going to do?
Espresso Pump
"Don't worry about school, honey." Later, Joyce pulled the car over to the curb where Buffy was supposed to meet Willow. "If we can't get you back into Sunnydale, maybe we can swing private school."
Buffy was horrified. "You mean like with suits and ties?" She looked at her mother hopefully. "What about home schooling? You know, it's not just for scary religious people anymore."
"We'll work something out. Okay?"
Buffy nodded and her mother leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
"Tell Willow I said hi," Joyce called as Buffy got out.
Buffy watched her drive away, then wandered around outside the Espresso Pump as she waited for Willow. Maybe they could do a little shopping when Willow got there, or just sit and talk. It'd been ages since she had someone to really talk to. She could tell her about Lily and what had happened at the homeless shelter. There was so much to catch up on. Or not.
Shocked, Buffy looked at her watch and realized she'd been hanging around the coffee shop and daydreaming for almost half an hour. Where was Willow? It wasn't like her to be late like this.
Discouraged, Buffy checked her watch again, then settled on one of the beat-up couches the shop had put outside on the patio. Willow had said she was originally supposed to do school stuff—maybe that's what had made her so late.
Buffy decided to give it a few more minutes.
Summers Home
It was a lonely walk home. The streets and houses were familiar but the sight of them did nothing to comfort Buffy. Even her own house didn't look very welcoming as she turned up the walkway. It became even less so when a strange woman hustled out the front door.
Buffy stopped as the woman, blond and about her mom's age, noticed her. She hurried forward, smiling and fluttering like an oversized butterfly. "Oh, my word!" she exclaimed. "You must be Rutherford! Look at you." Her smile widened. "Aren't you a picture!"
Buffy tried valiantly to smile back. "Thank you."
"I'm Pat," the stranger said, grabbing Buffy's hand and shaking it excitedly. "From your mother's book club? I'm sure she mentioned me."
"Actually—" Buffy began.
"I sort of took it upon myself to look after her and Dawn while you were, you know, off and away or what have you." Pat bounced her head back and forth as Buffy stared. "Between your 'situation' and reading Deep End of the Ocean, they've both been a wreck. Dawn more so."
Buffy opened her mouth to say something, but Pat was already dashing toward the street.
"Anyway, I'm off," Pat called gaily. "We're making empanadas in my Spanish class tonight. You go be with your mother and sister. You all need to re-bond."
Buffy couldn't help feeling irritated as she went into the kitchen and found her mother paging through a cookbook and Dawn sitting at the island doing her homework. "Pat wishes us quality time," she said dryly.
Joyce looked up. "Oh, I met her in—"
"Book club. Got it."
Joyce nodded. "Before I forget, Willow just called."
Buffy's face clouded. "Where was she?"
"She got held up," Joyce told her. "But she said she tried to call."
"Was there a message?"
"No." Joyce looked back at her cookbook momentarily, then lifted her chin. "But I had a thought. What if I invited Willow and Mr. Giles and everybody over for dinner tomorrow night? Don't you think that would be nice?" When Buffy hesitated, Joyce hurried on. "Since I sort of already did, I'm hoping for a 'yes.'"
Dinner with Mom, Dawn and the friends. "It would be fun," Buffy managed.
"You can count me out," Dawn said without looking up from her textbook. "I want nothing to do with…him!"
"Dawn Marie Summers!" Joyce said instantly turning on her youngest. "I know you are not happy with your brother. But you can at least be cordial around him."
"Do what you want mom," Dawn informed her mother. "Ground me, spank me, whatever. I do not want to see Rutherford's face ever again."
"Fine," Joyce snapped. "You go to your room. And you will not come out till I call you down for dinner."
"Fine with me," Dawn said as she gathered her things and left the room.
Joyce sighed as she looked at Buffy. "I'm sorry about that, Rutherford."
Buffy looked in the direction of the stairs and she sighed. "I know. You told me already that I hurt her."
"So, would you do me a favor?" Joyce asked changing the subject back to tomorrow's dinner. "Run down and get the company plates?"
"Mom. Willow and everybody aren't company plate people. They're normal plate people," Buffy objected.
"We never have guests for dinner," Joyce said sternly, giving her the 'Mom Face.' "Indulge your mother."
Buffy turned to go, then stopped and looked back. "So how come that works on me and Dawn, but not on other people?"
Joyce didn't look up from her cookbook. "It's genetic."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Buffy stood in front of the storage shelves, one thing she hated about being born in a boy's body was her height. She hated when her mother asked her to get things down from the top shelf because she was taller than Joyce. She wished she could be shorter like other girls.
She spotted tucked face down on a middle shelf, was a familiar framed photo—her, Xander and Willow. Next to it was another framed photo—her with Dawn. She and Dawn looked so happy, she wondered if she and her sister would ever get back to that, especially with the way Dawn was treating her right now.
Buffy sighed and slid the photos back where they'd come from, then stretched overhead to pull out the box of company plates. Before she could get her hands on it, she bumped something else she couldn't see and felt the object come loose.
She yelped as a dead cat fell past her and landed on the floor with an ugly thump.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
A small, shallow grave in the backyard. Somehow, Buffy never thought she'd be digging one there.
Joyce had put the sad-looking, formerly gray cat into a plastic garbage bag. Now she stepped forward and dropped it gingerly into the hole Buffy had made behind the flower bed. Buffy looked from the bag to her mother. "Next time, I get to pick the bonding activity."
They regarded the tiny grave for a moment, then Joyce spoke. "Do you want to say something?"
Buffy made an eww face. "Like what? Thanks for stopping by and dying?"
Joyce shrugged. "How about…good-bye, stray cat, who lost its way. We hope you find it." She stopped as her words sunk in—bad choice.
Without saying anything else, Buffy picked up the shovel and began to fill in the grave.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Joyce slept soundly. She never saw the eyes in the dark wood of the Nigerian mask begin to glow a rich, deep red, throbbing with secret power.
Outside, as if responding to an unearthly command, the loosely packed soil of the cat's grave began to quiver and heave. After a few seconds, the smooth surface split outward, and the cat, its fur matted and caked with grime, ripped its way free.
It fled into the bushes with an otherworldly yowl.
Buffy's Dreamscape
The school and the outside courtyard were completely deserted, silent and ghostly despite the bright sunlight spilling down. Nothing moved and not a single bird flew through the trees as Buffy wandered across the schoolyard.
A shadow moved at her side. Buffy turned her head and saw Angel walk up beside her.
"I thought they'd be here," she said sadly.
"They are," he said, despite their empty surroundings. "They're waiting for you."
She gazed at him. The sunshine looked strange against his skin, making it seem even more pale than usual. "Am I dreaming?"
Angel smiled slightly. "I'm probably the wrong person to ask. You'd better go."
But she hung back. "I'm afraid."
"You should be," he said matter-of-factly.
"I know if I am dreaming it doesn't matter what you say. But how do I get Dawn to forgive me?" Buffy asked looking at Angel sadly.
"I don't know," he admitted. "That is something you have to figure out yourself."
September 8, 1998 – Tuesday
Summers Home
"I've been on the phone with the Superintendent of Schools," Joyce said as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "At least he seems more reasonable than that nasty little horrid bigoted rodent man."
Buffy tensed. "Mom—"
"Anyway, I'm going in to speak with him this afternoon. As for private schools," she pushed a small stack of papers toward Buffy. "St. Francis Academy accepts late admissions. I wrote the information down for you."
Buffy's mouth fell open. "A Catholic boy's school? I thought you were agnostic, mom."
Joyce sighed. "I am, Rutherford, but we may not have much of a choice. You after all made some bad choices. You should expect there could be some consequences."
Buffy stood there, frozen, unable to process this horrible news.
"Nothing's settled yet," Joyce amended. "I just wish you didn't have to be so secretive about things." She picked up the dishrag and wiped the counter nervously. "I mean, it's not your fault you have a special circumstance. They should make allowances for you."
Buffy sighed. "Mom, I'm a Slayer. It's not like I have to ride the little bus to school."
Joyce pressed her lips together and opened the back door. "Couldn't you tell just a few people, like Principal Snyder? And maybe the police?" She leaned over and reached for the newspaper. "I mean, I'd think they'd be happy to have a superhero—is that the right term? It's not offensive, is it—Aaaahgh!"
Her mother's words ended in a scream and she threw herself backward as the cat—the very same one they'd buried the day before—scrambled through the door with a screech and disappeared into the house.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Buffy opened the front door for Giles, who stepped inside holding a small animal cage. "Welcome to the Hellmouth Petting Zoo." She motioned for him to follow her upstairs to her mom's bedroom, to where they'd easily tracked the cat.
With admirable fearlessness, Giles reached under the bed and grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck. It hissed and yowled as he pulled it out and, holding it as far away as he could, deposited it into the cage. "Oh, my God," he choked out. "What a stench."
"You know, I wanted Forest Pine or the April Fresh, but Mom wanted Dead Cat," Buffy said, trying to lighten the mood.
Giles looked at Joyce, but Joyce was clearly freaked by the cat's resurrection. "I'll get it back to the library," he said. "See if we can determine its exact origin."
Joyce nodded but said nothing as he turned to go. Buffy saw Giles's gaze cut to the ugly mask on the wall, and he made another valiant effort to draw Joyce out. "That's striking. Nigerian?"
Joyce nodded, obviously glad to have something more rooted in reality to discuss. "Yes. I have this wonderful dealer who specializes in ancient artifacts—"
'Oh no—another gallery chat,' Buffy thought. She desperately needed something to do away from the house. "You know," she said, jumping in. "I love art talk as much as the next very dull person, but we have work to do. Giles—research mode?"
She started for the door, then realized Giles hadn't moved. "Shouldn't you stay with your mother, Rutherford? You must have—" he said.
"Please," Joyce interrupted. "It's fine. He can go with you."
"Actually, she can't." He looked pained at Buffy's stare. "You're not allowed on school property."
"Oh." Stung, Buffy tried to be glib. "This marks a first. I want to go to school, but the school doesn't want me."
"I'm sorry," the librarian said gently. "I'll call as soon as I know something."
"And we'll see you tonight," Joyce put in. "Dinner?"
Giles looked startled, as though he'd already forgotten. "Of course. Tonight, then."
Sunnydale High School
The zombie cat paced within its cage, every so often circling and growling at the air. Thoroughly disgusted, Willow and Xander watched it warily while Oz and Cordelia leaned in a little closer to check it out.
"Looks dead," Oz said in his best calm-Oz voice. "Smells dead. But moving around. Interesting."
The creature hissed and Cordelia made a face and moved to the other end of the table. "Nice pet, Giles. Don't you like anything regular? Golf or USA Today, or anything?"
"We're trying to find how and why it rose from the grave," Giles said as he paged through a volume on reanimation. "It's not as if I'm going to take it home and offer it a saucer of warm milk."
"I like it," Oz said. "I think you should call it Patches."
Willow had to smile. Maybe it was time for her to change the subject. "Hey," she said, "what about Buffy's welcome home dinner tonight. I told her mom we'd help out." She glanced around. "Bring stuff."
"I'm the dip!" Cordelia chirped.
There was a beautiful moment of silence as everyone stared at Cordelia, then Xander smiled sheepishly. "You got to admire the purity of it."
"What?" Cordelia demanded. "Onion dip. Stirring. Not cooking. It's what I bring."
Oz sat back and folded his arms. "We should figure out what kind of deal this is. I mean, is it a gathering, a shindig, or a hootenanny?"
"What's the difference?" Cordelia asked.
"Well, a gathering is brie and mellow song stylings," Oz explained. "Shindig: dip—" he nodded at Cordelia. "Less mellow song stylings, perhaps a large amount of malt beverage. And a hootenanny…" He tilted his head. "Chock full of hoot and a little bit of nanny."
"I hate brie," Xander said.
"I know," Cordelia agreed. "It smells like Giles' cat."
Giles looked up from his book. "It's not my—"
"And what would we talk about at a 'gathering' anyway?" Xander suddenly demanded. "'So, Buffy—did you run into any nice creeps on your travels? And by the by, thanks for ruining our lives for the past three months—'"
"Xander—" Willow cut in.
"You know what I mean." His voice was almost snappish. "She doesn't want to talk about it, we don't want to talk about it, so why don't we just shut up and dance."
"Buffy did say she wanted to loosen up," Willow said out loud. "Have some kid time." She paused, then turned to Oz. "Aren't you guys rehearsing tonight? Why don't you play at the party?"
Oz brightened. "Yeah, I think I could supply some Dingo action."
Giles paused from his studies; his expression slightly alarmed. "I'm not sure that a…shindig—"
"Hootenanny," Oz corrected.
"Hootenanny," Giles repeated, "is really the order of the day. Maybe something a little more intimate. Buffy just got home—I'm sure she's still feeling disoriented."
"All the more reason to make her feel welcome," Willow said enthusiastically. She looked to her friends for support and found it in their faces. "And a big party says 'Welcome Home, Buffy!'"
"Okay." Xander stood. "So, one vote from the old guy for smelly cheese night, and how many votes for actual fun?"
Hands shot up around the table, more than one to a customer, as they all eyed Giles. "All right, all right," he said, surrendering. "Have it your way. I'm just glad to have her home." He flipped a page in his book, and never noticed the inked illustration that looked just like the Nigerian mask in Joyce's bedroom. He looked back as the page folded over to the next and the sketch disappeared. "Now things can get back to normal."
Summers Home
Night fell gently on Sunnydale, and darkness slipped into the crevices of the Summers household. While Buffy and Joyce readied the downstairs for company, Dawn remained in her room, refusing to step near her sister.
In Joyce's bedroom the Nigerian mask once again throbbed with strange life. Its eye cavities pulsated with red power as it sent out another silent call to those things unseen.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Buffy set the table, carefully arranging the good silverware around the company plates as per her mom's instructions. Her heart gave a little jump when the doorbell rang, but she hurried to open it anyway. It might be tough at first, but these were her friends—
"Hey, there you are!" said Pat as Buffy answered the door. "Not thinking about any more flights of fancy, I hope?" Disappointed, Buffy tried valiantly to hold her smile as Pat hustled inside and chattered away, not giving her a chance to reply. "Joyce said there was room for one more, so I said 'forget facial night and let's party!' I bet you like empanadas." She pushed a Tupperware container into Buffy's hands.
Buffy didn't know what to say. Finally, she gave Pat a thin smile and asked, "Do you want to see my mom?"
"Please," Pat said kindly.
"Mom!" Buffy yelled, too late realizing she actually sounded desperate.
Joyce hurried down the stairs, pleased to see Pat. "Oh, Pat—good. Buffy, I hope you don't mind."
The doorbell chimed again, saving her from having to answer. Relieved, Buffy yanked open the door, then her eyes widened.
"Hey, Rutherford," said Devon. He stood there, loaded down with musical equipment, while a couple of giggling band groupies hovered behind him.
"Uh…hey." Stunned, she stared at them, trying to fit him into the neat little evening she'd imagined.
He grinned as he pushed past. "So, where do you want the band to set up?"
"The…band?"
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Willow stood against the wall, swaying in time to the song that Dingoes Ate My Baby were playing in the living room. There seemed to be a hundred teenagers in the two main rooms of the house, most of whom she didn't know.
"Hey!"
Willow turned and saw Buffy standing behind her. She'd barely heard her friend's greeting over the noise. "Hey!" she yelled back.
Buffy gestured at the kids crammed into every corner. "This is…large!"
Willow nodded. "You like?"
"Yeah—it's great," Buffy shouted back. "It's just—I was just sort of hoping it would be us."
Willow shook her head, catching only a few of Buffy's words. "Sorry—what?"
Buffy tried again. "This is amazing. But I was sort of hoping it would be a gathering of the gang—"
Willow smiled and shook her head again. She mouthed the words "I can't hear you!" and looked back at the band, giving up.
Buffy wasn't ready for that yet, and she pulled Willow out of the living room and a little way down the hall, where they could actually hear each other talk. "Is everything okay?" she asked. "You seem to be doing what Dawn is and avoiding me."
Willow tried her best to smile, hoping Buffy couldn't see how uncomfortable she was. "What?" she asked. "This isn't avoiding. See? Here you are, here I am."
Buffy looked doubtful. "So…we're cool?"
"Way," Willow said emphatically. "That's why, with the party." She gestured at the jam-packed living room. "Because we're all glad you're back."
Uncertainty shadowed Buffy's features, but she finally nodded. "Okay."
"Okay," Willow repeated. "Good." And she beat a quick exit back toward the band, knowing Buffy didn't feel any better but unable, yet, to do anything about it.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Upstairs Dawn sat on her bed trying to do her homework. She groaned as she cupped her hands over her ears trying to drown out the band and the people laughing. "Rutherford," she hissed angrily knowing the party was her sister's fault.
In the Joyce's room the wicked red glow of the pulsating eyes of the Nigerian mask outshone everything in the room.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Buffy wandered through the party, wincing at some of the lame moves she was witnessing, trying to find someone, anyone she knew.
"I think you'll be impressed," she heard a guy she thought was named Jonathan tell a cute girl as she passed. "It's the Cadillac of mopeds—"
The girl rolled her eyes and walked away and Buffy gave her a mental thumbs-up, amused at the way Jonathan sauntered off in the other direction as if he hadn't just received a brush-off.
Buffy found a niche where she could stand and nod in time to the music, at least look like she belonged here. That illusion was blown by the disturbing words of a couple of out-of-it guys she'd never seen in her life.
"Hey," drawled the smaller of the two to his buddy, "what's the deal with this party, anyway?"
"This party?" His friend looked completely out of it. "I heard it's for some dude who just got out of rehab."
'Enough,' Buffy thought. Like the girl dumping the Moped King a little while ago, she figured she'd rather be anywhere but here.
But escape wasn't easy. She angled out of the living room and ran straight into Cordelia and Xander when she turned the corner. Arms wrapped around each other, they obviously didn't need her company. Buffy did an about-face, but it was too late.
"Hey, Buff," Xander said. "What're you doing?"
"I was just…taking a break from all that wacky fun," she said, trying to back away.
Xander grinned and held on to his girlfriend. "Some party, huh? Guess a lot of people are glad you're back."
Buffy glanced toward the living room. "Seems like people I don't even know missed me. Did Giles say if he was going to be late?"
"He was library man last time I saw him. But he'll be here. He wants to celebrate your homecoming—we all do. I mean, it's great having the Buffster back." He smiled down at Cordelia. "Isn't it?"
"Totally," Cordelia agreed, looking surprised that Buffy was even there. She gave Xander a slinky smile. "Except, you were kind of turning me on with that whole 'boy slayer' look."
Xander's grin widened. "Was I now?"
"You bet," Cordy cooed. "Nighthawk." She giggled and nibbled on his ear.
"Well," Buffy said, since it was obvious Xander was thinking about anything but Giles and the party. "I'll just be…" She slipped away unnoticed.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
In the darkness outside, shadows gathered and moved, a small army of the undead.
And all aiming for the Summers house.
Sunnydale High School
'Drat,' thought Giles. 'I really ought to get over to Buffy's party.'
But the research had taken longer than he expected—still no logical reason why this blasted cat had come back from the dead. He picked up the book on reanimation he'd looked at earlier and flipped through it. There must be something—
He froze.
"Oh, Lord," he whispered. He stared down at the illustration on the page, a rendering of a mask from Nigeria.
The same one hanging on Joyce's bedroom wall.
Giles snatched up the telephone receiver and dialed Buffy's number, pacing as he waited for someone to answer.
"Party villa. Can I rock you?"
"Excuse me?" Giles said. "Hello?"
"What can I do you for, London-sounding guy?" asked the stranger on the other end. Music blared in the background, nearly drowning out the speaker's voice, Oz's concept of a hootenanny in full swing.
"I need to speak with Buf—Rutherford," Giles said loudly, gripping the telephone cord. "Immediately. I have some information here that's extremely important—"
The sound of breaking glass followed by a cheer cut him off. "Yeah!" the voice crowed. "Fiesta foul! You got to do a shot!"
"I need to speak to Rutherford!" Giles yelled into the phone. "Now!"
"Ruddyfear?" There was a pause and Giles realized the guy wasn't even listening to him. "That guy has to do a shot!"
"Rutherford!" Giles yelled again.
There was another pause and the sounds of the party grew louder. Giles heard the speaker call out, could imagine him holding out the phone toward the room—as if anyone there could hear how desperate he was. "Is there a Ruddyfear here?" After a moment, the voice came back in Giles's ear. "Sorry. He's not here. You got the wrong casa, Mr. Belvedere."
Dial tone.
"Hello? Hello?"
Exasperated, Giles slammed the phone down and grabbed for his coat.
He'd just have to bring the bad news in person.
Summers Home
The lost look on Buffy's face had finally eaten far enough in to make Willow feel guilty, so she went to find her friend. When Buffy wasn't downstairs, she headed up. With no one she knew to really talk to, maybe Buffy had retreated to the sanctuary of either Dawn's or her own rooms.
Willow stopped at Dawn's door and knocked. When no one opened it, Willow slowly opened it to find Dawn sitting on her bed, her hands cupped over her ears.
"Hey, Willow," Dawn said over the loud music.
"Have you seen Buffy?" Willow asked the younger Summers sister.
"Why would I want to see that freak?" Dawn hissed angrily. "Rutherford probably ran away again, good riddance I say."
Willow sighed as she closed Dawn's door. It appeared she wasn't the only one to have been hurt by her friend. She hurried down the hall toward Buffy's room. The door wasn't quite closed and she saw Buffy moving around inside. She pushed it open, an apology on her lips, then froze.
Buffy was packing.
Everything she'd planned to say fled. "Dawn was right? You're leaving again?" she demanded instead. "What, you just stopped by for your lint brush and now you're ready to go?"
Buffy didn't look up, just kept shoving things haphazardly into the duffel bag on her bed. "It's not like anyone'll mind."
"Oh, no, have a good time," Willow said. She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. "And don't forget to not write."
Buffy stopped. "Why are you attacking me? I'm trying—"
"Wow," Willow cut in. "And it looks so much like giving up!"
Buffy stuffed another wad of clothes into the bag. "I'm just trying to make things easier."
"For who?"
"You guys were doing just fine without me."
Willow stepped closer. "We were doing the best we could. It's not like we had a lot of choice in the matter."
"Look," Buffy said. Tears filled her eyes. "I'm sorry I had to leave, okay? You don't know what I was going through."
Willow stared at her. "Well, I'd like to. And I think you should tell Dawn too."
"Neither you or Dawn would understand."
"Well, maybe we don't need to understand," Willow said, hurt. "Maybe we both just need you to talk to us."
"How can I talk to you, when you like my sister, are avoiding me?" Buffy demanded 111angrily.
"This isn't easy, Buffy!" Willow inhaled. "I know you're going through stuff, but so am I."
"I know that you were worried about me, but—"
"No! I don't just mean that. I mean, my life. I have all sorts of…I'm dating. I'm having serious dating, with someone who is not only a werewolf, but someone like you…someone who is transgender! And I'm studying witchcraft and killing vampires, and I didn't have anyone to talk to about all this scary life stuff." Willow felt her eyes fill with tears as she faced Buffy. "And you were my best friend."
Buffy's expression went shamefaced. "You have no idea how much I missed you, and everyone! I wanted to call every day."
"It doesn't matter, Buffy," Willow insisted. "It still doesn't make it okay that you didn't—"
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
When Willow had closed her door, Dawn had sat on her bed thinking over everything. She had realized in a way she had hurt Willow unintentionally in her anger at Buffy. So, she had stepped into the hallway and was going to find Willow and apologize when she heard what Buffy had said.
Her eyes glistened as she listened with unshed tears. She had never taken into account that Buffy's running had nothing to do with her. But with some pain that her sister didn't know how to talk to her about.
"Dawn?" Joyce said as she came up beside her daughter. "Have you seen your brother?"
Dawn's only response was to point at Buffy's room.
Joyce walked on down the hall and stepped into the room. She stared at the duffel bag in amazement. "What is this—is this some sort of a joke?"
"Mom," Buffy said. "Can you just…Willow and I are talking—"
But Joyce was not to be stopped. "No, I can't 'just'! Rutherford, what is this?"
"She was running away again," Willow said accusingly, forgetting to correct herself for Joyce's benefit.
Buffy took a step back "I—I wasn't. I mean, I'm not sure what—"
"Well, you'd better get sure and explain yourself right away!" Joyce cut in either not hearing or really paying attention to the use of the female pronoun. "If you think you can just take off any time you feel like it—"
"Stop it!" Buffy cried. "Please! I don't know—I don't know what I'm doing!"
Buffy pushed past her mom and out into the hallway. She ran past her sister who looked at her with sad eyes. She rushed down the stairs. But she wasn't getting away that easily—Dawn, Willow and Joyce were right on her heels. She saw her friend head for the front door, only to find it blocked by Xander and Cordelia, who were still lost in their own make-out zone. They broke apart and stared as they heard Joyce's indignant words.
"Don't you leave this house, young man!" Buffy veered for the living room, now with all five of them after her. But the crowd was too thick for her to negotiate, and it was only a moment before Joyce had her by the arm. "You know what, that's it! You and I are going to have a talk!"
Buffy's gaze cut to the people around her, who were backing away from the wrath of her mom and shaking their heads. "Mom, please."
But Joyce's voice only got louder. "You know what? I don't care," she announced, waving at the people in the room. "I don't care what your friends think of me, or you, for that matter. Because you put both me and Dawn through the wringer, Rutherford. I mean it—and I've had Schnapps!"
The sounds of the party died away and Buffy stood there, center stage. Oz pushed his way through the kids and came to stand at Willow's side.
Joyce glared at Buffy. "Do you have any idea what it's been like?"
"Mom, this isn't the ti—"
"You can't imagine," Joyce told her. "Months of not knowing. Not knowing whether you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere or—I don't know. Living it up—"
"You were the one who didn't believe I was innocent, remember?" Buffy's voice rose practically to a scream. "What was I going to do? Hang around till you turned me in to the cops for something I didn't do?"
The party guests started edging out the door, not wanting to witness the family fight.
"Rutherford, you didn't give me time to process any of it!" Joyce cried. "You dropped your bombshell and then went to do what you had to. I accepted it, but I didn't get it. You know what I told Dawn when she tried to explain. I told her to wait till you came home. But you didn't. I didn't get it till Dawn forced me to listen." She put her hands on her hips. "That said none of that gives you the right to punish me or Dawn by running away!"
"Punish you and Dawn?" Buffy asked incredulously. "I didn't do this to punish either of you."
"Well, you did," Xander said, stepping forward. "You should have seen what you put your mom through."
"Great," Buffy said in disbelief. "Anybody else want to weigh in here?" She spotted Jonathan a few feet away and gestured at him. "What about you, by the dip?"
"You should have seen what you put me through," Dawn said as she looked her big sister in the eyes. "I was angry. All I had was a note of explanation."
"What?" Joyce said looking at her youngest. "You never told me…"
"I was angry, mom," Dawn answered. "Angry that my best friend left with only a note of explanation. I wadded it up and threw it away." She looked back at her sister. "I didn't understand why with how close we were that you would leave me like that with only that note in explanation."
"Maybe you don't want to hear it, Buffy," Xander told his friend, "but taking off like you did was incredibly selfish and stupid—"
"Okay," Buffy interrupted, her voice high. "I screwed up! I know this! But you have no idea. You have no idea what happened to me or what I was feeling!"
"Did you even try talking to anybody?" Xander demanded.
Buffy swipe at tear-smudged eyes. "There was nothing that anyone could do. I just had to deal with this on my own."
"And you see how well that one worked out." Xander sent Buffy a disgusted look. "You can't just bury stuff, Buffy. It'll come right back up to get you."
"As if I could have even gone to you, Xander!" Buffy's face was dark. "You made your feelings about me and Angel perfectly clear."
"Look," Xander said sharply, "I'm sorry that your honey was a demon. But most people don't hop a Greyhound over boy troubles."
"Time out, Xander." Willow and the others stared as Cordelia unexpectedly stepped forward in Buffy's defense. "Put yourself in Buf—" she looked at Joyce and immediately corrected herself when she remembered Joyce didn't know that Buffy was trans, "Rutherford's shoes for just a minute, okay?" She looked at the rest of them. "I'm Rutherford, freak of nature, right? Naturally, I pick a freak for a boyfriend. Then he turns into Mister Killing Spree, which is pretty much my fault, and—"
"Cordy," Buffy interrupted. She looked completely horrified. "Get out of my shoes."
Cordelia threw up her hands. "I'm just trying to help. If you haven't noticed, people aren't exactly lining up to give you props."
"Bu-Rutherford," Willow began, "you never—"
"Willow, please," Buffy said pleadingly. "I can't take this from you, too—"
"Let her finish," Xander snapped. "You at least owe her that!"
Buffy glared at him. "God, Xander—do you think you could at least stick to annoying me on your own behalf?!"
"Fine," he said harshly, closing the distance between them. "You stop acting like an idiot, I'll stop annoying you."
Buffy's eyes narrowed and she stepped forward to meet him. Her fists squeezed together at her sides. "You want to talk acting like an idiot? Nighthawk?"
"Okay," Oz said suddenly, sliding smoothly between the two of them. "Going to step in now, being referee guy."
"Let them go, Oz." Willow was so angry that her voice rose above everyone else's. "Talking about it isn't helping—we might as well try some violence."
Someone crashed through the living room window.
"I was being sarcastic!" Willow cried.
But no one heard her. The guy that had come through the window was being followed by someone else, then someone else again. He lurched through the living room, then stopped in front of some dude who along with everyone else was trying to escape to the door. Willow gaped in horror as without saying anything, the stranger grabbed the partyer's head and twisted it viciously. The party dude dropped like a limp rag.
The group went in different directions, but still, as always, instinctively worked together. As more breaking sounds came from the kitchen, Buffy leaned over and grabbed a fireplace poker. "Xander—the kitchen!" she yelled and tossed it.
Xander neatly snatched the poker from the air. "Got your back!" He and Cordy headed down the hall.
Buffy started pummeling the weird guy that had come through the window. No matter how many times she beat him back, he just kept coming.
This time when the guy started to go for her again, Joyce stepped up behind him and brought a heavy vase down on his skull. "Are these vampires?" she shouted at Buffy as he collapsed.
"I don't think so!"
Dawn spied a piece of broken window sash, nice and sharp, and grabbed it. "Heads up!" she called and threw it.
Buffy's hand shot out. She caught and twirled the stake, then slammed it down into the center of her attacker's chest. He looked at her, then it, and fought to get up again.
"No," Buffy told her mother. "Not vampires."
"They walk, they don't talk, and if you stake 'em, they don't dust," Willow said from next to Buffy. "I would say…Zombies."
By the front door, a terrified Pat was almost outside. Her luck didn't hold, though—only a couple of inches to go, but she didn't see the zombie step from the shadowed hallway behind her. She only felt its rotting hand cover her mouth as it dragged her back into the depths of the house.
In the kitchen, Xander and Cordelia did their best to beat back their own zombie. Xander picked up the bottle of Peach Schnapps and whacked it on the head; Cordelia skewered it with a long barbeque fork. Nothing worked.
"Man!" Xander exclaimed as he smacked it again. "This sucker wobbles but he won't fall down!"
In the living room, the others kept pounding on the creatures, to no avail.
The chip and dips forgotten, Jonathan reached over and grabbed one of the band's guitars. "Not my guitar!" Devon barked at his side. "Use the bass!"
A few feet away, Dawn, Buffy, Willow and Joyce still fought to control the same, unstoppable zombie.
"He just keeps coming!" Willow cried.
"I know!" Buffy latched onto one of his flailing arms and pulled. "Try to get him back outside!"
Dawn moved toward the door as Willow and Joyce jumped to help Buffy, and the three of them hauled the foul thing toward the front door. Dawn stood next to Oz whose hand was on the knob.
"On three!" Joyce exclaimed. "One, two, three!"
Oz yanked open the door, then kicked at the zombies waiting outside before they could pile in. Willow and Joyce shoved their zombie out, using him like a bowling ball to take down the others. There was a harrowing moment as they fought to close the door against the hands trying to snake around its sides, then they turned the lock and leaned against it in relief.
"Help me barricade!" Buffy shouted. Devon, Jonathan and several others rushed to pile furniture and anything else they could find against the broken windows. "We need some help out here!"
In the kitchen, Xander sat hard on the zombie's back, forcing the thing's face to the floor as he finished trying it with telephone cord. "I got it," he told Cordelia. "Go help Buffy." She hurried to comply, joining the others as the last of the furniture was settled on top of their makeshift barrier.
"Great," Buffy said, drawing a much-needed breath. "Good job every—"
The center of the door crashed in as one of the creatures slammed its arm right through it.
The group scattered in all directions. Dawn, Oz, Joyce and Cordelia hightailed it for the stairs and Buffy grabbed Xander as he came out of the kitchen. "Upstairs!"
Oz and Cordelia pushed Joyce and Dawn up in front of them, then found themselves cut off from the others as a zombie smashed through the weakened front door. They changed directions, forced back up toward the kitchen. "Oh, goody," Cordelia said curtly. "Back to the basement!"
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Almost up the stairs, Dawn, Joyce, Willow and Buffy stumbled over the unconscious Pat. They hauled her upright and dragged her into Joyce's bedroom. Buffy and Xander left Dawn, Willow and Joyce to see to Pat while they built a new barricade, shoving the dresser and chair in front of the door.
Reluctantly, Willow leaned over and touched Pat's throat. No pulse. She looked at Dawn and Joyce. "She's—" She didn't finish.
Grief flashed over Joyce's face. "Oh God—she's dead?"
But there was no time to think about it. Something splintered behind them and Dawn, Willow and Joyce whirled to see a zombie had already managed to work its way partially through the door and the furniture piled in front of it. They hurried over to help, forced to leave Joyce's dead friend lying on the bed.
"What do we do if they get in?" Joyce asked in a panicked voice.
Xander pushed frantically against the widening gap in the door. "I kind of think we die!"
"I don't think we truly know, mom," Dawn informed her mother. "Buf—Rutherford has never dealt with zombies before."
Fighting for their lives, no one noticed Joyce's Nigerian mask on the wall, its eye slits throbbing with deep scarlet.
On the bed, Pat's eyes slowly opened.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
"Is that your foot?" Cordelia asked in the darkness.
"Oh," Oz said. "Sorry."
"I don't hear anything. Should we check?"
Oz considered this. "Go for it."
Cordelia found the knob and cautiously pushed open the door. They peered out—nothing. Carefully, both clutching ski poles, they inched out of the storage closet in which they'd been hiding. While there were muffled sounds elsewhere in the house, the downstairs seemed clear of any zombie action.
Upstairs then. They moved toward the front, rounding the first corner—
—and ran straight into Giles.
Both Cordelia and Oz shouted in surprise and she raised the sharp end of her pole, ready to plunge it home.
"Cordelia!" Giles yelped. "It's me!"
She wasn't convinced. "How do we know it's really you and not zombie-Giles?" she demanded, brandishing the ski pole.
The librarian gave her an aggravated look. "Cordelia, do stop being tiresome!"
Cordelia lowered her weapon. "It's him."
Oz tilted his head in the direction of the second floor. "I think the dead man's party has moved upstairs."
Giles nodded as they angled for the stairway. "That makes sense. It's the mask in Joyce's bedroom they're after."
"Mask?" Cordelia frowned. "They're here to exfoliate?"
Giles ignored her. "The mask holds the power of a zombie demon called Ovu Mobani—evil eye." They all stopped and looked toward the second floor, where they could see a knot of zombies fighting to get inside Joyce's room. "I don't think we can get past them."
Oz lifted an eyebrow. "What happens if they get the mask?"
Giles's mouth was tight. "If one of them puts it on…he'll be the demon incarnate."
Cordelia glanced at him. "Worse than a zombie."
Giles looked at Cordelia, then again at the creatures gathered above them. "Yes. Worse."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Despite their best efforts, one of the zombies had gotten through the door.
As Dawn, Xander, Willow and Buffy fought with it, trying to figure out how to get it back out, Joyce turned and look toward the bed where Pat was pulling herself to a sitting position.
Joyce hurried over to her. "Oh, God—Pat," she said, nearly gasping with relief. "We thought you were—"
Before Joyce could finish, Pat shoved her aside and snatched at the Nigerian mask on the wall. Without hesitating, the woman brought the mask up and pressed it against her face. A demonic green light exploded from behind the thing, momentarily enveloping her.
When the group blinked away their surprise, they saw that the ugly mask, sharp teeth and all, had melded itself to Pat's skin.
Willow yipped as her hold on the zombie loosened. Now it cowered on the floor at their feet, trying to hide its face behind one decayed arm.
Joyce looked from it to Xander questioningly. "Generally speaking?" he offered. "When scary things get scared? Not good."
The glow receded from Pat's face. "I live," she intoned. Her voice was deep and echoing with power. "You die!"
Buffy scowled and started toward the Pat-demon, then the Slayer was bathed in a nearly blinding white light that flashed from the eyes of the dead woman's mask.
Horrified, Dawn realized that whatever the light was, it had literally paralyzed her sister. Before anyone could stop her, the Pat-demon advanced on Buffy and brutally backhanded her.
Buffy went sprawling and Joyce's former friend turned on Dawn.
"Dawnie, don't look!" cried Buffy from the floor, but it was too late. The light flashed again, and all Dawn could do was stand there and send useless mental commands to her feet to run. Frozen in place, she felt the demon's hands on her head, ready to twist.
"No!" Head down, eyes averted, Buffy plowed full-speed into the Pat-demon.
Dawn fell to one side.
Buffy kept going in a full body tackle that took both her and Pat right through the glass of the second story window.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Still trying to figure a way to get upstairs, Giles, Oz and Cordelia reversed course when they heard the explosion of glass and the crash of bodies rolling down the roof. There was a heavy thud, then sounds of fighting in the backyard. "Out back!" Giles commanded while upstairs in Joyce's bedroom, that struggle also resumed.
With Oz and Cordy close on his heels, Giles headed back down the stairs, but found them blocked by yet another zombie. The battle began, and Oz backed up, jockeying for a good kick to their zombie's head as Giles and Cordelia beat on it. "Oz!" Giles commanded between blows. "Tell Buffy—Mobani's power is in his eyes! She has to go for the eyes to defeat him!"
A split-second decision and Oz changed his tactics, using his position as a springboard to vault over the other two and the creature on the stairs. A good thing, too—the zombie hit the space where Oz's rib cage had been hard enough to punch right through the wall.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
The zombie in the room with them had, upon Pat's high-dive out the window, decided it should start fighting again. Willow, Xander and Joyce punched and kicked the thing, but it just wouldn't stop.
Tossed against the outside wall, Dawn sat, stunned, as Joyce reached beneath her bed and pulled out a sturdy baseball bat and began to whale on the creature with all her might.
And the two battles raged: one inside the room with them—
—and one outside with Buffy.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
The creature that had become Pat found her footing first. She jumped on Buffy, knocking her to the ground and straddling her. Parroting the zombie who'd been so afraid of the Pat-demon, Buffy threw her arm over her eyes to avoid the paralyzing beam that kept pulsing out of the eyes of the mask.
Caught off guard by her victim's tactic, the woman was thrown off by a right cross to the jaw. Buffy scrambled to her knees across the grass, searching for something at the edge of the flower bed—
Got it!
Buffy rose and spun—
—and looked straight into a flash of light from the demon's eyes.
She was stuck.
'Darn,' Buffy thought. 'All weaponed-up and no way to use it.'
"Buffy!"
Startled, the Pat-demon whirled at the sound of Oz's cry and her paralyzing hold on Buffy broke. As the light from the creature's eyes immobilized Oz, Buffy hefted the gardening spade she'd plucked from the lawn. "Hey, Pat!"
The demon turned back, preparing to freeze her again. Averting her eyes, Buffy let instinct guide her hand as she drove the spade right through the eyes of the mask.
"Made you look."
Everything in the world seem to stop for a second, then an enormous bolt of white enveloped the Pat-demon. There was an unpleasant sizzling sound…then Pat vaporized, right in front of Buffy's eyes.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Dawn saw the Pat-demon disappear, and when she glanced back to what was going on in the bedroom, she realized that her mother was flailing with the bat at empty air. There was a crash downstairs and she heard Giles and Cordelia shout in astonishment—whatever undead thing they'd been fighting had apparently also vanished, as had the rest of the creatures.
Another look out the window and there was Buffy, dusting off her clothes with a satisfied look on her face. She spotted Oz standing cool and composed by the remains of the back door. She had no idea why Oz said it, but she heard his words clearly:
"Never mind."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Joyce hurried to Buffy. "Honey, are you all right?"
Buffy's mouth quivered, just a little, and she reached out. "Mom…" Then they were hugging, as they should have all along. "Yeah."
"So," Joyce finally said shakily. "Is this…a typical day at the office?"
"No." Buffy glanced at the wreckage in the living room. "This was nothing." She was only half-kidding.
Joyce looked appalled but she didn't have a chance to say anything as Xander stepped up to Buffy. "Nice moves."
Buffy smiled slightly. "You, too."
The two slapped hands and Oz and Cordelia moved in to join with them, congratulating each other on another job well done. After a moment, Willow smiled and reached for Buffy, hugging her as tight as she could.
Dawn tapped Willow on the arm and the redhead looked at the younger Summers sister and nodded in understanding. Willow stepped back from Buffy. She smiled as she wrapped her arms around Buffy tightly. "I'm sorry," she said before lowering her voice low enough so that only Buffy heard what she said next, "Buffy."
Buffy smiled as she returned her sister's embrace. "It's okay," she said. "And I'm sorry, too."
And, slightly back from the rest of them, Giles stood and watched as the Scoobies and Dawn found and accepted, once again, their friend or in Dawn's case her sister.
He would not see them kept apart.
September 9, 1998 – Wednesday
Sunnydale High School
Giles knocked on Principal Snyder's door, then stepped inside his office without waiting for an invitation. He made sure to close the door behind him.
"Did we have an appointment?" Snyder asked in annoyance as he looked up from a pile of papers.
"I'd like to have a word with you," Giles said politely.
Snyder stood and walked around to the front of his desk. "If that word is 'Rutherford,' then I have two words for you: 'Good,' and 'riddance.'" He picked up a folder and tucked a piece of paper into it. "Now, if you don't mind, I have an appointment with the Mayor."
Giles stood his ground. "You can't keep him out of this school."
Snyder gave him a nasty smile filled with little teeth. "I think you'll find I can."
"You had no grounds for expelling him."
Snyder's eyebrows shot up. "I have grounds. I have precedent. And a tingly kind of feeling."
Giles made an exaggerated show of courtesy. "Rutherford Summers is a minor and entitled to a public education. Your personal dislike does not legally entitle you—"
Snyder dismissed him with a wave. "Why don't you take it up with the City Council?"
He started to step past Giles, but stopped at the librarian's next words. "I thought I'd start with the California State Supreme Court. You're powerful in local circles, but I believe I can make life very difficult for you. Professionally speaking." He made sure his tone was pleasant. "And Rutherford will be allowed back in."
Snyder hesitated, then his chin lifted in defiance. "Sorry. I'm not convinced."
As the man started to leave, Giles's hand came up and caught Principal Snyder across the collarbone, just below his neck. He shoved Snyder against the wall hard enough to hear the Principal's breath whoosh out of him. But when he spoke, Giles's voice never lost that agreeable tone. He was even smiling.
"Would you like me to convince you?"
Espresso Pump
Outside the sunshine was bright and the shopping district buzzed with noisy kids and parents. Inside the Espresso Pump, it felt cool and relaxing to Dawn. Buffy had insisted that she come along with her and Willow while they got reacquainted. Dawn was sure Buffy was trying to make up for how she had hurt her.
So there the three of them were sharing a huge bowl of double chocolate ice cream with chocolate syrup.
"I mean," Willow said as she scraped up the last of the ice cream on her side of the dish, "I'm not like a full-fledged witch. That takes years. I just did a couple pagan blessings and a teeny glamour to hide a zit."
Buffy wrinkled her nose. "It doesn't scare you?"
"It has," Willow admitted. "I tried to communicate with the spirit world and I so wasn't ready for that. It's like being pulled apart inside. Plus, I blew the power for our whole block—big scare."
Buffy looked half proud of her, and half wistful. "I wish I could have been there with you."
"Me, too." Willow smiled sheepishly. "I really freaked out."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Willow said. "I understand you having to bail and I can forgive that."
"So, can I," Dawn agreed.
"I have to make allowances for what you're going through and be a grown-up about it," Willow finished.
They sat there in silence for a moment, then a corner of Buffy's mouth turned up and she gave Willow the eye. "You're really enjoying this whole moral superiority thing, aren't you?"
Willow grinned. She couldn't help it. "It's like a drug."
"Fine," Buffy said, flouncing back. "Okay. I'm the bad. I can take my lumps…for a while."
"All right," Willow said, relenting. "I'll stop giving you a hard time." She looked at the table, then at her best friend again. "Runaway."
"Will!" Buffy cried.
"I'm sorry." Of course, she was, but she hadn't had Buffy to tease in so long…. "Quitter."
Buffy glanced at her slyly. "Whiner."
"Bailer."
"Harpy."
Willow considered her options for a moment. "Delinquent."
Buffy tilted her head, thinking. "Tramp."
Willow figured she might as well be just as ridiculous. "Bad seed."
Buffy managed to top everything she and Willow had said so far with humor and utter accuracy. "Witch."
Dawn smiled as she watched her sister and Willow's verbal sparring match. "Buffy," she said as Buffy looked at her. "The police investigation and Angel aren't the only reasons you left, are they?"
"No," Buffy answered. She reached down and picked up her backpack. Out of it she withdrew three medicine bottles.
"Are those?" Willow said in complete surprise.
"This one," Buffy said as she held up the bottle labeled: Estradiol. "Is my Estrogen." The second bottle she held up was labeled: Medroxyprogesterone. "Is my Progesterone." She then held up a third bottle labeled: Spironolactone. "And this one is a Testosterone blocker." She put the bottles back into her backpack. "Of course, while I was in Los Angeles, I didn't have insurance so I got those through other means. But being in Los Angeles gave me the chance to be myself every single day and not have to hide who I am."
"Maybe then," Dawn said. "I think it's time you told mom."
"I think Dawn's right," Willow agreed. "Then you can finally start your transition to being the woman you've always dreamed of being."
Author's Note: Next chapter Joyce finds out Buffy is Trans.
