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Author's Chapter Notes:
A/N: In this chapter a Slayer comes to grips with her conflicting thoughts, and a mother lets her know her feelings about her failed marriage, and her daughter's new opportunity.
"What kinda a sick joke are you playing?" Buffy asked Giles when she heard what he said.

Giles shook his head adamantly, insisting, "I assure you: it is no joke. Now, more than ever, the Forces of Good need you."

"No, they don't," Buffy asserted. "I'm just a nineteen-year-old girl who can't even balance my checkbook, for Chrissakes! Now you're telling me that there I'm the Chosen One, and I'm the one who has to fight the Big Bad Vampire Beast?"

Giles tried again, his eyes beseeching her to believe him. "I know it is a big responsibility, and it is a lot to take in, but the fact remains, and the Prophecy bears me out. Like it or not, you are the First in a long line of Slayers," he told her.

Buffy stared at her mother's physician. He didn't look like a loony person. In fact, he was probably the sanest person she knew. She glanced at the engagement ring on her finger, thinking about the future which lay ahead.

"But…I'm getting married," she protested, then after a beat, added, "possibly."

Giles said sheepishly, "Yes, well…you might have to curtail your engagement activities until we can work all of this through."

The look Buffy gave him indicated she wanted to stake him rather than a vampire. "Are you crazy?" She shouted, lashing out and pinning the doctor to a wall. The young woman was instantly abashed and released him a second later.

"There!" Giles said triumphantly. "You see? You wouldn't have been able to do that if you were not the Chosen One. It's the raw power, the strength that lies within you that enabled you to do that!"

Although Buffy wanted with all her heart to deny it, deep inside, she knew Giles was right. She had always felt different; hadn't she told that much to Spike the first day they'd sparred?

**Spike…**she thought.

Her mind remembered his soft caress, his cool, yet infinitely satisfying lips. She also remembered what he'd told her the first time they had trained.

"C'n sense you, kitten. Your energy's so powerful, it's downright scary!" the vampire had told her.

"Well, then, if I am Chosen, then I can be Un-Chosen! I resign, I abdicate, I hereby christen someone else to be the Chosen One!" Buffy cried.

Giles weathered her storm. It would do to have a little patience, even if time was of the essence. The physician and White One chose his words carefully.

"Buffy, I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. Whether you decide or don't decide to act with your powers you have been given is irrelevant. The fact remains that you are the Premiere Slayer, the First in a long line of Chosen Ones who will fight with a male Slayer, called a Hunter, against the forces of evil."

Buffy seized on what he had just said. "Good! Great!" she exclaimed. "Let's just find this 'hunter'. If he is the Male Slayer, then he can do the fight-y stuff, and I can…can…". She tried to search for a suitable word, but none came to mind.

Giles was frustrated, and beyond that, annoyed. "Do what?" he said a little unkindly. "Go back to your makeup and fashions and the telly? Go back to your ordinary life? Won't that be grand? I'll tell you what: do that, and within an hour when the world ends and we are all sucked into a Hell dimension to answer to Evil's whim, you can berate yourself for all eternity that you could have prevented such a thing!"

Buffy looked at the older British man in shock. Never had Giles raised his voice to her, and never had he been so mean. She didn't say a word, but she flung open the front door and went outside into the cool, night air. Giles followed, hot on her heels.

"Buffy!" he yelled. Buffy walked on at a thunderous pace.
"Buffy!" he yelled louder. Buffy stopped and put her arms around herself. Angry tears were in her eyes.

"Why me, Giles? Why do I have to do this?" she asked, not looking at the White One. After a moment's pause, she said, "You know, when I was little, and the other kids used to laugh at me because I was too strong, I wished that for once, just once, I could be normal. I used to play dress up whenever Cordy went out to play and Mom wasn't in with Mom's old wedding dress, pretending that I was married, and that I was living an ordinary life."

She turned back to Giles, saying softly, "And I told someone recently how I wished I knew what my place was in life, how I wanted to have my own destiny rather than being in other people's shadows."

She turned back away, saying bitterly, "Guess it's true what they say, huh? 'Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.'"

Giles reached out and enveloped her in a fatherly hug. He had, through his association with Joyce, grown closer to the mother and her daughters. From the little he had seen about Buffy, he knew that she was strong, yet kind; tough yet merciful when she had to be.

He had never had children, but he knew if he had ever wanted a daughter, it would definitely be Buffy. "We'll sort this out together," he told her. "I promise."

Buffy looked at the ring on her finger and sniffed. "Guess I'll have to give this back to Riley, huh?" she asked as Giles and she walked back inside the house.

"Maybe," he said. "I know I said you might have to curtail your romantic entanglements, but we don't exactly know his role in the scheme of things."

They went inside, and Buffy told him, "It's okay. I was gonna give back the ring anyway."

Giles regarded her quizzically, asking, "Why?"

Buffy shrugged, saying, "I don't know. Not really. But I don't think I love him." She gathered her thoughts together and then amended herself. "I mean, I love him, but I'm not in love with him. I can't marry a guy I only like, right?"

Giles shook his head, saying, "Certainly not."

Buffy smiled just then, happy that the older man understood.

"So, what kind of powers do I have, anyway?" She wanted to know. "And, I only have a Hunter to help me? What about other people?"

Giles tugged on his glasses slightly and adjusted him correctly on his face before launching into a technical explanation. "According to every book on the subject that I have perused, you have superior strength rivaling that of a vampire, incredibly fast healing abilities—within reason, of course; agility, and the ability to master any weapon," he said.

Buffy thought about how she had learned the defensive moves Spike had taught her with relative ease. She was still apprehensive, but she decided that if she had all that, she could grow to like her situation in time.

"What else?" she queried.

Giles responded, "You have an inner mechanism which enables to you sense demonic creatures."

"Like vampires," Buffy mused.

When Giles nodded, she thought about the previous day when she had known that Spike was okay, and that he was in the greenhouse. She wondered how deeply that sensing mechanism was ingrained. Could she read his thoughts eventually? Did she want to?

The younger Summers girl smiled and let her thoughts drift for just one moment, fantasizing about the unattractive revenant. True, he would never be on an issue of Teen Boys N' Grown Men, but she found that being less and less of a concern for her.

Vampire Spike was courageous, talented, and oh, boy, did he know how to kiss! It wasn't his fault that nature had made him look like, well, something out of a horror movie. He was chock full of goodness, better than Riley, in fact.
And therein lay the problem. What would he do when he found out that she would slay his kind; that she would probably have to kill him?

"Giles, do I have to kill all vampires?" she asked. "I mean what about good ones? Would I have to make with the stakeage on them?"

Giles considered for a moment. He knew what, or rather who, she was talking about, and he wanted to reassure her, but he couldn't. Damn the Powers that Be! He thought. He knew his sacred duty, and he knew he had to tell the girl the truth.

Sighing, he responded, "Of course, if a vampire has not killed anyone, or if, somehow, he is good as you say, then I would not see any reason to stake him or her."

When Buffy was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he cautioned, "But I wouldn't count on that, Buffy. Vampires are…well, they're little more than demons wearing human form. They have no conscience, no soul. Sooner or later, even if they do not kill at first, the hunger of the demonic force inside takes over. They are driven to kill without pity, without remorse, or they are driven to create more of their kind. There has never been known to be an exception to that rule."

Buffy's pleading expression tugged her future Advisor's heartstrings. "Then, look for something! Giles, I know that you know a little about Spike. He's a good man, a-and I care a lot about him. I'm not saying that I love him or anything, but I also don't want to have to reduce him to being something you can stuff into an urn," she begged.

"I'll see what I can do, Buffy," he said. "Perhaps he can help find the Beast."

Buffy reached out and touched his arm, saying, "Thanks."

Giles pulled a small notebook out of his pocket and handed it to her. The young woman flipped through the pages, noting his writing and a chart at the beginning of the book.

It showed several rectangles like one would see in a family tree. At the top where the first rectangle was drawn, the words, "Premiere Slayer" was written inside of it. Next to that box, there was a line connecting her rectangle and the one labeled "Premiere Hunter". Other lines were drawn from the two boxes so that they formed a pyramid of rectangles, with all the subsequent boxes labeled as either "Slayer" or "Hunter".

"Homework," Giles instructed. "This book is a compilation of all things you need to get started. It details your 'family tree' of sorts: how your powers will be channeled into the other Slayers around the globe via my magic and that of other White Ones. It indicates your heritage, and how you should apply your talents."

Buffy took the book, flipping to another page, which showed the Slayer's rectangle again. This time, there was a group of circles leading out from the Slayer's rectangle. The lines connected her shape to two circles with "Advisor" in their center, along with "White One" in one, "Hunter" in another, and "Assistant" in a third.

"So, what's this?" Buffy wondered. Giles glanced at the book.

"This is another list of those who will aid you, the Slayer, and the other Potential Chosen Ones in their Quest to rid the world of evil," he explained. "The White Ones, who are wizards and sorceresses for Good, direct the Slayer's and the Hunter's power center and send it to all other Chosen Ones, wherever they may be."

"Sounds so Lord of the Ring-y," Buffy commented.

"Quite," Giles agreed.

The jingling of keys told the pair Joyce had returned with at least three full grocery bags.

"Sorry I took so long!" Joyce apologized. "There was a long line, and I lost track of time! I got us some linguine. They were out of lasagna." She looked at her doctor.

"Do you like Italian?" she asked.

Giles helped Joyce with her bags by grabbing one. "Yes, I love it," he said.

"Well, I got enough helpings for seconds, at least, as well as some other things we need," she said, walking into the kitchen.

"Giles," Buffy warned, "don't tell Mom about all this."

"You know I won't," he reassured her, his voice a whisper. "Besides, she wouldn't believe me."

"I'm still not sure I believe you," Buffy said, following behind. She set the table, calling to Cordelia upstairs.

Cordy ran downstairs, her hair slightly messy.

"What's up?" the college student asked as she came into the kitchen. Her younger sister looked at Cordelia's wild hair and smirked.

"New look?" Buffy joked. Cordy glared at her.

"I fell asleep while I was reading that Shakespeare crap!" she responded, getting some plates out and setting the table for dinner. "I have a 'Romeo and Juliet' test coming up, and I have two words for that obviously stupid play which tells us that women can only be happy with a man to keep them company: bo-ring!"

"This from a girl who has boyfriends way into the double digits," Buffy teased. Cordy's response was to stick out her tongue.

"Girls, stop it!" Joyce scolded her daughters. "Doctor Giles will think we have lost our minds."

"He knows we play around like this," Cordy said, not in the least willing to apologize.

"It's quite all right, Joyce," he said, looking at the curly haired older woman.

"You're very kind, Doctor," she said.

"Rupert," he said softly, pulling out a chair for Joyce at the head of the table. When she sat, she smiled up at him.

"Rupert," she repeated.

Giles smiled back. Joyce never noticed it before, but was he always this handsome?

Buffy and Cordelia pretended not to notice the two older people as they put several items wrapped with aluminum foil on the kitchen table.

The four of them helped themselves to a dinner which they all agreed was 'delicious' and 'totally fab'. When the youngest at the table helped herself to some more salad, Cordy got a look at Buffy's ring.

"Buff!" her older sister exclaimed. "Where'd you get the sparkly?"

"Oh, this?" Buffy responded nonchalantly.

"'Oh this'"? Cordy mimicked sarcastically. "Obviously someone forgot to give me the 4-1-1 on the diamond mine on her finger!"

"Buffy!" Joyce rebuked her daughter after drinking some sparkling dark beverage. "You didn't tell your sister about Riley's marriage proposal?"

Buffy shrugged, saying, "It's no big." Both her sister and her mother looked at the newly chosen Premiere Vampire Slayer as though she was totally nuts.

"No big?" Cordy repeated. "Well, next time the Midwestern Donald Trump saunters by, can I ask him to propose to me instead, since you obviously don't seem to be gushing over his pre wedding present?"

The youngest Summers' green eyes met Giles' brown ones, imploring him silently, **help me!**

**Don't worry!** The older man's expression directed to Buffy.

Aloud, he harrumphed, saying to the darker haired older sister, "Yes, well…she um…probably wanted to wait for the right time to tell you, Cordelia, such as when she had decided whether or not to actually accept Riley's proposal."

"But she's wearing his ring!" Cordy shouted, while Joyce said simultaneously, "Delia, there's no reason to shout."

"I'm only temporarily trying it on for size," Buffy announced, looking at her mother and sister, "until I'm sure."

"Buffy," her mother admonished, "you didn't lead me to believe you had doubts…".

"Well," Buffy said sheepishly, her eyes downcast, "it's all so much. I'm totally wiggin'. Major league wiggin', in fact."

"I understand," Joyce said sympathetically. "If you want some advice, I'm always here."

"Thanks, Mom," Buffy said, "I appreciate that."

Dinner conversation was somewhat subdued after Cordy's outburst and Buffy's confession that she had misgivings. For several moments, there was the clicking of forks and knives, but nothing else. When all the trays were drained of their contents, Cordelia wiped her mouth and rose from the table. Giles did the same.

After depositing her plates, silverware and glass in the dishwasher, Cordy announced that she was going back upstairs to study. Giles, sensing that Mother and daughter needed to talk, said "good night" to both after he thanked Joyce for the wonderful dinner.

When they were alone, Buffy asked, "Mom, how old were you when you married Dad?"

Joyce remembered her husband, Hank Summers, and his crooked grin. She still thought of him after all this time, despite the fact that during their marriage he couldn't seem to spare even one minute to think about her. He had attended the same high school and made certain that after seeing her for the first time, he put her on a golden pedestal.

(High School, the Seventies)

"But I'm no one special," Joyce had said when Hank said he wanted to get to know her better.

"Don't be so modest," he had told her. "You interest me like no other woman has."

Joyce could feel her heart pounding in her chest. That the Class President would notice her was nothing short of a miracle, or a fantasy.

"So, eight o'clock, at your house?" Hank was asking. Joyce nodded eagerly.

A first date with the female budding art student led to date number two, then three; then, at age eighteen, Joyce was pregnant with Cordelia.

Amidst the insistence of both sets of parents, the 24-year-old man had done the honorable thing and married her. They moved from Colorado to start a new life in San Francisco. As her first daughter grew inside of her, so did Joyce's hopes that they could have a fantastic life as a married couple. But Hank had other pursuits.

He had his career, his friends at the tennis court, and other issues—one being the stenographer Kimberly Rhodes in his office.

Joyce had thought as many women did that when she had Cordelia he might suddenly sit up and take notice of her. Joyce was wrong. Although Hank seemed overjoyed at the birth of his first daughter and even stopped seeing Kimberly, his joy was soon replaced with Diane, a lawyer he had met in his job as a financial systems analyst.
Joyce had put her foot down: the couple would see marriage counselors, priests, and even Buffy's friend, Bubba, who had been married to his high school sweetheart for over fifteen years.

But nothing could save the doomed relationship. When their second child Elizabeth Anne Summers was approaching her sixth birthday, Hank and Joyce were approaching divorce court.

(Buffy's sixth birthday…)

"You can't go now, Hank!" Joyce had snapped, her eyes showing her anger. "It's your daughter's sixth birthday! At least wait until the right time!"

Hank turned on his wife, grounding out, "And when is that gonna be, Joyce? When she's ten, when she's twenty? Face facts, hon…this marriage was a train derailment waiting to happen, and I'm getting off before it gets any worse!"

Joyce found some potpourri and threw it at her soon-to-be ex husband. "Fine!" she shouted. "Go! And once you leave, don't even think about coming back!"

Oblivious to the stares from the mothers at Buffy's party and the other children, Joyce went upstairs, sinking down by the toilet in her bathroom. She cried great tears of anguish, and then her stomach hurled her eaten birthday cake into the toilet. It wasn't until she had flushed it that she heard Buffy coming into the room with Cordy behind her.

"Mom…?" Buffy's small voice asked. Joyce didn't trust herself to answer. She just held her two daughters and cried silently.

Ever the leader, Buffy said soothingly, "It's gonna be okay. Daddy'll come back, I know he will, and you'll work it out."

Joyce smiled a sad smile. She wanted to believe her youngest daughter, but she knew that Hank would not be back, except for when they were in front of a judge.
Two weeks later, the father of two sent for his things….

Once Hank left for parts unknown, the only contact between himself and Joyce were the child support and alimony checks that he sent religiously. The mother of two wondered if she would be able to be the sole provider for her two growing children. But at the wise old age of 27, Joyce was a survivor. She got a job in an advertising firm and made enough money to purchase a house in Sunnydale by the time Buffy turned twelve. Joyce had never looked back.

For seven years, Joyce had worked hard and saved to provide her daughters with an education. All that had changed when after numerous headaches a CAT scan indicated a brain tumor. Joyce had stopped working, and Buffy had dropped out of school to take care of her mother and help her sister stay in school.

The surgery had been a resounding success, but Joyce was worried. After all, they had said such things to her father, Steve Emery, when he had his brain tumor removed. The process was "revolutionary", and there were no guarantees, but when he had showed up looking like the picture of health after the operation, Joyce hoped that he would live a long and happy life.

That wish was shattered by his death after a brain aneurysm took her father from her family six months later. When Joyce had her operation for the same type of tumor, she also felt the same demons telling her that she was not long for this life coming back to call with a vengeance.

That was why she knew that although her youngest daughter was only nineteen and therefore, too young, Joyce had to see to it that Buffy, and by extension Cordelia, were taken care of. If Riley could do that, and Joyce's instincts told her that he could, so much the better.
Buffy repeated the question.

Joyce's mind snapped back to the present. "I was only eighteen when we got married," Joyce answered. "I never told you?"

"Uh-uh," Buffy replied. She switched on the dishwasher and joined her mother on the couch.

"Well, your father is a sore subject, sweetheart," Joyce said. "I thought he was my Knight in Shining Armor. Too bad the armor was tainted."

"I know that things didn't go well since you two got divorced," Buffy acknowledged, "but it seemed like you split as friends."

"Only on the surface, honey," Joyce told her daughter.

"Was it because of us?" Buffy asked. "Was it because of me?"

Joyce adamantly shook her head, saying, "Oh, no, sweetie! Our being divorced had absolutely nothing to do with you, or with your sister! It was all Hank and me, really! I was a poor judge of character, and it was just a bad marriage."

"So why do you want me to get married?" Buffy wondered aloud.

Joyce took a deep breath as she thought about how she should respond. She didn't want Buffy to think that her mother was farming Buffy out, but she wanted the best for her daughter. Perhaps, Joyce reasoned, lightning in the form of a bad marriage wouldn't strike twice.

"Because Riley seems like the perfect man," Joyce finally said. "He loves you, he can provide the things Hank didn't want to, and he wants to take care of all of us. That's important! Not only that…". Joyce's voice was a whisper when she said her next words.

"You remember what I told you about my father, Steve?" she asked Buffy.

Her youngest daughter nodded, saying, "Grandpa died young, right?"

"Yes," Joyce responded. "He was only fifty-seven. Not too young...but not too old, either."

"But he had a heart attack, right?" Buffy questioned.

"That's what I told you and your sister," Joyce answered. She looked at Buffy with tears when she said, "But what I didn't tell you was that he died from a heart attack caused by a brain aneurysm."

The Premiere Vampire Slayer bolted from the couch as she cried, "What? Grampa died of something like that and you didn't tell me?"

Joyce felt instantly guilty. "I couldn't tell you, sweetie," she said apologetically. "It was too painful. I just…I didn't know how to say that part of it. Can you ever forgive me?"

Buffy didn't know if she could. She felt such overwhelming anger that her mother would hide the truth behind her Grandfather's death. She also could feel the walls of destiny and fate crashing down around her. Between her mother's confession and the fact that Buffy was the Chosen One, she didn't know if she could bear much more.

"Does Cordy know?" the younger Summers girl asked. Joyce shook her head.

Buffy looked resolute as she said, "Mom, you have to tell her."

Joyce agreed with a nod of her head. Buffy went to the front door, telling her mother, "And, I have to think about what to do."

Before she went out of the front door, Joyce's voice stopped her for a moment. "No matter what I want, you've got to do what's best. If that means no Riley, then I'll support whatever decision you make," the mother told Buffy.

Buffy's eyes met her mother's with a look that was neither scolding, nor welcoming, but somewhere inbetween. "Let's hope it's the right decision," she said, walking out the front door.

The young woman ran to her mother's car, started up the engine, and tore down the street. She needed to hit something, to stake something, and damn the consequences! Maybe then, Buffy could face her mother again.

Maybe then, she would know whether she should marry Riley or….Her brows drew together thoughtfully as she thought about talking to Riley about this. But no, Buffy reasoned. Riley would tell her to do the honorable thing, and she couldn't take any of his high handed morals just now.

Buffy also couldn't take Giles telling her to just drop Riley in favor of being a Vampire Slayer. As she found herself turning down the exit to Williamstown, she thought about the one being on Earth who could help her sort things out.





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