disclaimer in part 1
Joyce Summers awoke with vague memories of the previous night. She'd been a part of something to do with vampires, that was sure, but no idea what, exactly. She remember a trip to the hospital, and drinking tea at the library, and having Mr. Giles drive her home in a funny car.
And Buffy. No matter that Oz, and Mr. Giles, tried to convince her it had been an alcohol-inspired delusion, she'd seen her daughter.
Buffy still loved her, no matter how cruel she'd been. She had to say, she had the best daughter in the world. Let her work it out. She'd cover for her with Hank for a while, now, if she had to.
Her daughter would be coming home. She smiled to herself and looked nect to her bed, suddenly disgusted with herself at the bottle of wine she'd been keeping there. No more. Buffy was coming back and it wouldn't do for her to have a drunken lout of a mother lying about. She poured the rest of the wine into the bathroom sink and tossed the bottle into the trash.
Her daughter was coming home.
But what if she never made it? God, did she need a drink . . .
* * * * *
Things between the teenagers seemed a bit more normal, Rupert Giles was pleased to note when Willow came back. It was finals time, and Willow was constitutionally incapable of missing finals.
Willow and Xander had had a LONG talk about Xander's hospital- bed revelation, and she had forgiven him. She and Cordelia had come up with a hypothesis concerning Xander's actions which made a certain amount of sense, that the boy tried to be all things to all people. Giles' researcher, Willow's best friend, Cordelia's boyfriend, Buffy's protector. He didn't need to be quite so intense, so driven -- they'd never forget him.
Oz was still leery around Xander, no matter Willow's reassurances, and the two boys still had a good deal of tension to work out. Giles hoped they would do so; Willow didn't need any more strain, what with finals to study for and give, and of course their continued worry about Buffy.
On a more serious note, Xander had yet to inform any of the others that he hadn't told Buffy about the spell to restore Angel's soul. At the moment, informing them would be counterproductive. A somewhat fragile peace had been restored.
Even so, if Xander did NOT tell them at some point, he would.
One final thing he'd noticed. As the group had left the night Spike had come back he'd pulled Xander aside for a few seconds. "One thing, Xander," he'd said. "The ritual of soul restoration requires three participants.You and Spike make two, and Drusilla was unconscious. Who was the third?"
"Third?" Xander had answered disingenuously. "No, no, just the two of us. No one else. Nobody!" Typical Xander babble, but with a slightly harder edge than normal, and Giles sensed that pressing him would be a bad idea.
So who HAD that third party been? A number of answers presented themselves, and Giles didn't like any of them.
* * * * *
So, back on old Route 66, walking again, but this time in a slightly better mood. Buffy still had thinking to do, she still had to deal with having lost everyone.
She couldn't return yet. Angel was still gone forever, Xander had still betrayed her, Kendra was still dead, and because of her lapses Willow was still in a wheelchair. Now, though, she had confidence that she WOULD work through them. That it was possible.
A demonic presence off to her left. NOT a vampire. She hazarded a giuess. "Hey, Whistler! That you?"
Right the first time. He walked our from behind a sign and said, "So, Slayer, been thinking about what I said?"
"Haven't really had the time. You know, restoring Drusilla's soul, saving my friend's lives and all that. Philosophical thought tends to get a little lost in the cracks. Besides, I've never been very good at that anyway."
"Hey, hey, hey -- look at me, I'm Fat Albert! -- don't insult yourself like that. What do you think that little jaunt was for? You came to some fairly heavy decisions, you know. You decided to go back, and to FORGIVE Drusilla her crimes. Pretty heavy decision, that last one. Not so sure I could have done it myself. You came through when it counts for your friends -- but you also learned that they can take care of themselves. So . . ."
"So, what? They don't need me to protect them. This supposed to be encouraging? I've got to tell you, your couchside manner stinks."
"Hold it a second. They might not need you to protect them. You might think you lost them. Right and wrong at the same time -- thus disproving the old law of noncontradiction, but that's beside the point. Just because they don't NEED your protection doesn't mean they'd rather not have it. And they NEED you as a friend. See, you've been thinking about this in terms of you. You lost everything, so it was down to you. You were the only one you could rely on. But there's something funny about things you lose."
Ah. Finally the demon was going to finish that riddle he'd begun so long ago. "What's that?"
"There's always a chance to FIND them again."
The End
There are 2 authors of this story..so if you have comments please send them to both Mediancat and Danielle