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Chapter 7

“Mrs Summers,” Giles smiled in greeting. “Thank-you for joining me.”

“Please, call me Joyce,” she said returning his smile. She allowed herself to be ushered to a secluded booth at the rear of the coffee shop. “Buffy speaks of you often, Mr Giles.”

“Rupert,” he offered graciously.

“Rupert,” Joyce agreed.

“Joyce, the…er…subject I need to discuss with you is rather a delicate one. I know that you will be shocked by what I am going to say, but I ask you to hear me out before you decide that I require psychiatric evaluation.” Giles smiled in amused self-deprecation, but his earnestness encouraged Joyce’s willingness to hear him out.

“Can I assume that this has something to do with Buffy?” she cautiously asked the librarian.

“Yes, but let me first assure you that Buffy has done nothing wrong,” Giles quickly assured the concerned woman. “I am sure that you have heard of the gangs on PCP that are supposedly plaguing Sunnydale?"

“Of course, what a terrible epidemic...” Pausing, Joyce gave him a terrified look. “You’re not suggesting that Buffy is involved somehow?”

“Certainly not,” Giles firmly interrupted the concerned mother.

“Oh, thank God!” Joyce was relieved to hear his negation of her fears.

“PCP gangs are…well…ah…they are actually the Sunnydale Police Department’s euphemism for vampires,” Giles finally managed to say.

“Vampires? Are you on drugs, Rupert?” Joyce scoffed, raising an eyebrow in scepticism. “Please don’t tell me that you share in my daughter's delusions?”

“Joyce, I assure you I'm neither crazy, nor is Buffy delusional.”

“This is ridiculous! What kind of sane person would believe in vampires?” Joyce gathered her pocket book, preparing to leave.

“Please don't leave, Joyce. Your daughter needs your help right now,” he begged her. Desperate to help his two houseguests, he offered her a solution, “What if I can show you undeniable proof?”

“Proof? That vampires exist?” She looked at him in amusement; “Oh, yes. Please, show me your proof,” crossing her arms and looking remarkably like her daughter, Joyce focused on Giles in expectation as she decided to call his bluff.

Joyce watched as Giles appeared to gesture to someone behind her, indicating that whoever it was should join them. As she felt the presence behind her, all the hairs on the back of her neck stood up; a feeling of deep foreboding overcame her. For a brief moment, she considered the possibility that her daughter’s tendency towards denial might just have been inherited.

“Joyce, I’d like you to meet Angel.”

Joyce turned to greet the newcomer. He stood tall, his expression pinched and sombre. She felt momentarily overcome as a wave of intense emotion swept over her. She absolutely hated this man and she had no idea why. Dawning recognition dictated her cold response. “We’ve met before. Buffy’s tutor, I believe was the explanation I was originally given.”

“Um…that was actually Buffy’s idea, Joyce.” Angel looked acutely embarrassed.

“Please call me Mrs. Summers,” she ordered. “Do you often lie at the request of a child, er…Angel, is it?”

“Buffy thought it was best. She was trying to protect you.” Angel attempted to salvage the quickly disintegrating meeting.

“Buffy is sixteen. Surely as the adult, you should have known better.” She dismissed him in disgust. Returning her attention to Giles, she made her demand. “You said something about proof, Rupert?”

“Angel is a vampire, Joyce. I am going to ask him to show you his true face, but as we are in a public place, you will need to remain calm. Angel, if you would?” Giles made his request of the vampire, but kept his eyes firmly on Joyce. He watched as she went through a gamut of expressions, fear, horror, disgust, shock, and finally back to horror.

“Oh, no…we had her committed…we didn’t believe…Oh Rupert, I’m a bad mother.” Joyce’s eyes filled with tears as she thought of her child and what she had gone through. Buffy had begged them to believe her. She had promised that she could prove what she was saying. She had pleaded with them to give her a chance, but furious and embarrassed over the burning down of the school gym, Joyce and Hank hadn’t even considered for a moment that their daughter might have been telling the truth.

Giles reached his hand across the table to Joyce’s, patting while he muttered nonsensical words, hoping to ease her guilt. While he waited for her to regain her composure, he motioned Angel to leave, much to the displeasure of the morose vampire.

When Joyce was ready, Giles told her about Slayers and the life Buffy was called to. He offered her books to read and offered to answer any question she had at any time. He told her about the most recent situation; about Buffy being torn from Heaven. He told Joyce about Buffy’s claim on Spike. He told her of Spike’s suggestion that she be told everything. He told her that Spike felt that older Buffy needed her mother. He made certain she knew that neither Buffy knew that he was talking to her and he told her why it was imperative at this time that the younger version didn’t find out.

He was not surprised when Joyce, after hearing of all that the older Buffy had and was facing, immediately demanded to meet the older version of her daughter, but he was surprised when Joyce also demanded to meet her daughter’s vampire protector. The one her daughter had claimed as family.

*******

“Um…we may have another problem,” Buffy informed Spike as she made her way into the living room from the bathroom.

“And what would that be, pet?” he asked cautiously.

“You remember that when something changed for the other Buffy, it changed for me too?” She tried to explain the confusing array of memories that seemed to assail her.

“Yeah?” He prompted her to continue.

“Well I woke up with another one of those moments.” Buffy’s face showed clearly just how confused she was feeling.

“Do you remember what you were thinking about, luv?” Spike’s concern started to blossom.

“Dawn,” Buffy replied absently, mentally going over her memories again. Abruptly stiffening at an obvious anomaly, she turned to Spike and shared her confusion. “Can you think of any reason why I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that my sister Dawn is fifteen and that she is one year younger than me, but I also remember her as being five years younger than me at mom’s funeral?”

*******

‘Oh, well, this is just perfect! Why do these things always happen to me? Okay, you’re the sister of the slayer that doesn’t stay dead, She doesn’t know that you’re alive, but she doesn’t stay dead. Note to self – bitterness, look into it. Concentrate, Dawnie! Pluses: Mom’s alive. Buffy’s kinda cool at this age. You’re only a year younger than her. Maybe this Buffy will let you research. Okay, liking the pluses. Could get used to it here. Minuses: no Spike. Well, there is a Spike, but this one’s still with the crazy ho-bag. This one doesn’t have a chip and isn't my best friend. Argggh! What do I do? Crap! I’m gonna have to sneak out and go see Giles. When this gets straightened out, I am sooo going to tell Buffy to slay Snyder. I just hate that little troll!"





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