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CHAPTER 5: A little motivation


She had done it. She had finally done it. Buffy had fallen asleep. Of course, she wasn’t there anymore to marvel on that fact, but if she had been able to comment, she would have said: “Thank you God.”


But her sleep was not that different from her previous state. She was tossing and turning, every bit as restless as she had been earlier when awake.



The young teenage girl was led down a corridor with her hands in front of her, the handcuffs shining brightly in the harsh artificial light of the neon. The police station was buzzing with activity despite the ungodly hour.


**I guess criminals don’t sleep** Buffy thought somberly.


“Sit here.” The female officer who was leading her instructed. “Your mother is in there talking to the sergeant.” The officer knocked and walked in.


Buffy sprawled on the uncomfortable chair, trying her best to look unimpressed and annoyed. To the casual observer, it probably worked. But inside, she was a mess. It might have been her third time at the police station, but she still found it nerve wrecking. She was scared shitless. She really didn’t feel all that tough at the moment.


The officer came back out and told Buffy she could go inside.


Buffy walked in, dragging her feet and looking down. Her blonde hair was falling in front of her face like a shield. She heard the heavy sigh coming from her mother but didn’t look up.


The man sitting on the other side of the desk asked her to take a seat. She was well prepared to answer him as rudely as possible and refuse to sit, but his voice was so soothing and firm that she did as asked.


**Must be the British accent** she thought, still looking at her combat boots like they held the answers to some deep existential questions.


“Will you look at me Miss Summers? I’d like us to talk like grown ups. So put down the façade please. I can see right through it anyway so you’re just wasting your energy trying to keep it up.”


Buffy reluctantly looked up at the man talking to her. For a second there, she found that she couldn’t breath. Her eyes widened at the sight of his handsome features. It was as if he didn’t belong in that cold, impersonal, environment. There was a calm strength rolling off of him in waves. Passion in his blue eyes. She felt as if his gaze could see her soul and almost giggled out loud as a funny image crossed her mind. The man was wearing nothing but a white loincloth, sandals on his feet, a sword in his hand and wings behind his back, like some kind of an archangel. A smile tugged at her lips and she let out a derisive snort at the somewhat ridiculous thought that had popped into her head.


“Something funny?”


**Get a grip girl** she scolded herself.


“No sir. Nothing.”


Her mother finally opened her mouth. “Buffy, honey, please listen to what Mr. Rayne has to say.”


The young girl cast a quick guilty glance towards her mother, then her eyes settled back on the sergeant.


“I’m sorry sir--look, I’m not gonna do it again, ok? I’ll just be on my way and I promise to be a good girl from now on. No more fighting or anything. Cross my heart…”


“Not that easy this time Buffy.”


“Oh--you mean… Oh God! I’m not going to a foster home, am I? Or one of those places for delinquent teenagers, or, or…”


“No, you’re going to jail.” Sergeant Rayne gave her a warm smile that didn’t fit the seriousness of what he just said.


Buffy paled dramatically and gripped the armrests of her chair until her knuckles turned white. “… What?! But, you can’t! I’m 17. Minors don’t go to jail unless they’ve killed people and stuff, right? RIGHT?”


The handsome British man laughed goodheartedly. “Relax Buffy, I didn’t say we were putting you behind bars. But at the rate you’re going, that’s most likely where you’ll end up. I don’t understand Buffy. You look like a smart, strong, young woman with a lot of potential. What do you rebel against?”


The blonde man leaned forward, his weight resting on his elbows, obviously waiting for an answer.


Buffy looked away. “Dunno.” She finally mumbled.


He merely raised an eyebrow.


She shifted on her chair, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “You know--stuff. Unfairness. The world in general. It all sucks.”


“So, correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t like society so you hit people on the back of the head with bar stools and beer bottles?”


Buffy snorted, offended. “Hey, just the ones who deserve it ok.”


“But honey,” Joyce started. “You used to be such a good girl, with good grades, friends… What happened?”


“What happened?! I opened my eyes, that’s what happened! People are mean. I’ve seen stuff… So called friends kicking someone who’s already on the floor, hurting people who are too weak to defend themselves, for popularity’s sake. Well I’m done standing by and laughing with them. That’s what happened. That girl I sent to the hospital tonight… She deserved it. She said something unthinkable to another human being and I wasn’t just gonna let it slip. So go ahead, send me to jail. I don’t give a fuck.”


“Buffy! Language!”


Sergeant Rayne ignored her mother, focusing all his attention on the young girl sitting in the chair in front of him.


“Your intentions are good, but you’re on the wrong track luv. Continue this way, and you’ll spend your life in prison. You have to focus this need for justice and put it to good use. You’re a good person, with strong beliefs , and there are very few people like you. So don’t waste it.


“Mr. Rayne had an idea honey.” Joyce added. “He knows someone at the LA county jail and he thought that maybe you could work there part time for a little while. Just during the weekends…”


Buffy’s eyes darted from her mom to the sergeant fearfully. “What?.. No! I can’t do that! I mean, I’m not--I couldn’t--possibly…”


“Sure you can.” The sergeant gave her a warm smile that illuminated his handsome face. “You can do this. You are strong enough. And who knows, maybe it will be a revelation for you. Maybe that’s where you need to be.”


He looked straight into her eyes, blue clashing with green, and for a moment, they were alone in the office.


“You need to believe in yourself, and believe that you can do this. You believe in justice, don’t you? What better place for you to be then? And… maybe someone needs you in there. Maybe someone needs justice to be done and you’re the only one who can do it…”


The annoying sound seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. Buffy just lay on her back, eyes still closed, wondering sleepily what the hell was making that noise. She growled when she finally realized what it was: the phone. Reaching out blindly, she got a hold of the offending thing and answered.


“…What?”


“Rude much.” Came the perky voice of Cordelia through the receiver.


“Mghrhmmm”


“Sorry, I don’t speak cave Buffy. Care to translate?”


“What do you want?”


Cordelia let out an audible offended breath. “I put my alarm clock three hours early to wish my best friend good luck and that’s what I get for my trouble?”


Buffy chuckled. “As if.”


“Fine, fine. I had to get up for a business meeting. I’m having breakfast with the owner of a new store on Rodeo drive who’s interested in my clothing line. But still, my intentions were pure.”


“Thanks Cor. And good luck with your meeting.”


“So,” the other girl asked, “any dreams about prison boy?”


“Sorry to disappoint, but no.” Buffy lied, biting her lower lip. “Johnny Depp saved me from a mob of evil bunnies in Prague.”


She wasn’t going to tell Cordelia how ‘prison boy’ took the place of the overweight, bald, officer who sent her to work at L.A. county prison ten years ago in her dream. Things had happened differently back then, for one thing, the guy hadn’t been interested in finding out why exactly she was rebelling--not that she would have told him about Tara anyway--and wasn’t sending her there so she could find a career. He just wanted to scare the shit out of her. In the dream, Spike had been sitting behind the desk and telling her to believe in herself and basically, to help him. But except for that, everything had been the same.


“Evil bunnies, huh?”


“Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something?”


“Yeah. That you’re deranged.”


“Bitch.”


“Loony.”


“Wallmart designer.”


“Ouch.”


Buffy laughed. “Did I get the last word on this one? That would be a first.”


“I’ll give you this one, but don’t get used to it. Gotta go hon, I just burned a red light and nearly killed some old lady crossing the street. But good luck today.”


“Thanks Cordy. I should talk to you every morning, you put me in a good mood.”


“That would be the Cordelia Chase Harris curse: I try to be a bitch, and all I manage to do is put a smile on peoples faces. Call me later.”


“Will do.”


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“Silence!”


The voice of the usually calm and collected Rupert Giles echoed throughout the cafeteria, efficiently getting the attention of the prisoners.


Buffy was holding her hands behind her back to hide the tremors her nervousness was causing. She might have worked with cons for ten years, but it was the first time she was going to address them all at once and she couldn‘t help the uncertainty crawling under her skin. She was standing with the rest of the prison staff who had been assembled for the speech, and so far, no one had noticed her. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had spotted Spike almost right away--he was sitting on the side alone with another con--a really tall black guy--and he was looking straight at her.


She realized that Giles was still talking, and she had missed most of what he said.


“… and I hope that unlike yesterday, you’ll be on your best behavior. So here she is, your new warden.”


Buffy took a step forward, trying to look determined, an ‘I’m in charge’ look on her face. But she wasn’t feeling it, and people can always sense that.


“Hello everyone, I’m… “


Her words were lost in a sea of lewd comments, cheers and laughter. She waited for them to calm down but it didn‘t seem like they would any time soon. Then, she cast a quick glance towards Spike. He was still looking at her, smiling encouragingly, and she automatically felt more confident.


Buffy took another couple of steps, coming to stand near the first tables. Giles reached out to stop her, obviously worried for her safety, but she ignored him.


“ENOUGH!” She yelled, her voice surprisingly loud for such a tiny woman. It shocked everyone into silence.


“As I was saying, my name is Buffy Summers and I’m your new warden. I might be a woman, and I might not look very intimidating, but I won’t take shit from any of you. I have the power to make your life miserable. As long as you remember this, we’ll get along just fine. Is that clear?”


She could see from the corner of her eye that Spike’s smile had grown wider.


Everything was going to be just fine. The Spike in her dream was right: she could do this.


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CHAPTER 6: Life isn't always fair to gentlemen





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