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sorry I'm a bit late....4 people want to go review MBB and give me an even 100 reviews? ;)
Chapter 33

It was well past when she needed to be home, but Joyce was just now leaving her dinner party. Rupert was already home, asleep probably, as he had stayed home ill that evening. She wished she’d had the insight to think of doing the same. Madeline was not one of her better friends nor was she one of the more entertaining ones.

Dinner had been an incredible dull affair—boring her hours before it was over. But as it was expected for her to stay to the end, that was just what Joyce did.

Now she was thinking that it had actually been a wise decision. Had she left early—like she had wanted to do—she would have already shut her cell phone off and might have even been sound asleep in her bed by now. Now being when she received Buffy’s phone call…

Her daughter had sounded so lost as she said those two words that even before she heard the phone bang against the floor, with no further communication from Buffy, Joyce had known something was desperately wrong.

“Buffy! Buffy, baby…come on, please, sweetheart! Buffy!” When there was no answer after nearly thirty seconds and the call hadn’t been disconnected from the other end, Joyce hung up; hoping she was doing the right thing, she quickly dialed her home number, waiting for four rings for her husband to answer, all while urgently tapping her hand on the steering wheel.

She wasn’t sure just what was happening but she knew something was wrong with her daughter, “God dammit, Rupert, answer the phone!” It was two more rings and just as she was about to disconnect before he answered.

“Joyce? What is it?” He asked groggily, he’d been asleep for hours and the ringing had woken him from a deep sleep just seconds earlier.

“Something’s wrong with Buffy!” Joyce knew she was yelling but she couldn’t manage to make herself care.

“What? What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know…But you need to go check on her; call an ambulance first, okay? Maybe take the phone with you as you go so you can tell them what they need to bring? I mean you don’t want to get out there and then have to call—“

“Joyce, sweetheart, how do you know something’s wrong with Buffy?”

“She called me,” She explained anxiously.

“And she didn’t tell you what was the matter?”

“No! That’s the thing…Listen, I’ll explain later. Just go check on her now, please?” She begged.

“Of course,” He said, already walking down the stairs in his pajamas.

“Thank you, Rupert. Please tell let me know what it is…and hurry!”

“I’m on my way already,” He knew that there was more to this than just Joyce being overly worried, so his tone had grown more considerate. “I’m going to need to hang up, so that I can call an ambulance, alright? If anything happens before you get home, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

”Thank you,” She said as she hung up once again concentrating completely on her driving. She knew that getting into a car accident now would do her no good and she needed to be there for Buffy so she put all her attention and focus on getting home safely.

It crossed her mind to call William but she decided it would be better to wait to contact him until they knew the situation and if there was in fact a reason to contact him. As it was, she wasn’t entirely sure why she had thought of calling him….Maybe it was the shock of the entire situation.

All she did know was that she had to get home to her daughter…and now.



“Buffy!” Giles called as he ran out to the pool house. A sense of dread had overtaken him just moments after ending his phone call with Joyce and it only increased as he neared the house; so he was hoping that any moment now his yells would bring her from the house. He could just imagine her stumbling out, half asleep asking him if he had gone crazy.

Now if only that would just happen.



When he reached the door with no signs of stirring inside, he began to truly worry. He had thought, remarkably, to bring a key with him, but as he turned the lock he realized that he didn’t need in fact need it—the door was still unlocked.

And that was when he realized something was in fact very wrong.

Buffy, for whatever reason, had always been the one to make sure all of the doors in the house were locked. That all of the windows closed and, even, that the keys were out of the locks. There was no way that she would have come home and gone to bed without locking her front door. It just wasn’t like her.


Quickly as he could, he pushed the door open—all while telling the 911 operator that he was sure he needed an ambulance—even if he couldn’t tell them just why. They were driving him insane though, with their refusal to dispatch one until they knew the situation. Something or another about ‘unnecessary expenditures’. Drove him bloody mad.

“I don’t know why I need the bloody thing!” He argued. “But I do. If I have to wait to give you the exact reason, it may be too late,” Giles attempted to explain as he made his way into the bedroom.

“God, don’t let it be too late,” He muttered in anguish as he saw Buffy sprawled out on the bed, naked, the empty prescription bottle on the floor, a few superfluous pills next to it. What told him though, that something was wrong—besides the blank, empty look on his step-daughter’s face—was the phone blaring a busy signal from its position just inches away from her arm that was hanging bonelessly over the side of the bed.

Buffy had definitely not just fallen asleep.

”My daughter’s tried to kill herself,” He finally had a reason to give the operator. “I need an ambulance! Now!”

Having been told his address just minutes earlier, the operator, now knowing the situation, answered, “One will be there in twenty to thirty minutes, sir.”

“Twenty to thirty…Are you completely daft? That’s too long!”

”It’s the best we can do,” The young woman explained patiently.

”Then I’ll just take her myself. And understand that if any harm comes to her I will be coming after you!” With that Giles shut the phone off and rushed to Buffy’s closet; finding her a robe he took it over to her prone form and, even as he tried to wake her, pulled it tightly around her limp body and picked her up in his arms, carrying her out to his car.

“Shh, Buffy, you’re going to be okay, sweetheart. I’m going to get you to the doctor and he’s going to make you all better again. You’re going to be just fine, Buffy,” He said, reassuring himself as well.

Once he’d gotten Buffy settled in the front seat—he wanted to be able to keep a close eye on her no matter what—he quickly sped off in the direction of the hospital. When he’d gotten onto the main road and thought he could drive well enough without it having his full attention, he fished his phone from his front pocket and called his wife.

“Joyce, love, I’ve got Buffy.”

“Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay, Rupert,” Joyce frantically pleaded.

He so very much wished he could tell her that, but knew that now wasn’t the time to lie to her. “I’m taking her to the hospital,” He semi-explained. “The ambulance was going to take too long so I’m driving her myself. “Why don’t you meet us there?”

Joyce hastily agreed and just moments later he was once again wholly focused on getting his unconscious daughter to the hospital.

He was not going to let anything happen to her.


TBC.........

so there wasn't actually violence but....oh well it's my weird brain, even I don't understand it at times ;)

Back to work for me now......please review?





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