CHAPTER 6
Buffy sat very still after her two friends disappeared
through the crowd.
The table shuddered suddenly, the ice cubes in the empty glass rattling together.
“God, I’m sorry. Did I spill your drink? I can get you a refill.” White teeth flashed in the strobing lights of the club.
Buffy dropped her eyes back to the table.
“Hey.” A hand appeared in her field of vision. “Are you OK?”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about the drink,” Buffy told the young man staring worriedly at her. She stood up. Staying was a bad idea. She needed to go…beat up on some vampires.
The young man moved in front of her, and Buffy might have simply shoved past him if he hadn’t seemed so concerned. “I recognize that look. Ex-boyfriend? Loan shark?” Leaning against the table, he cocked his head at her. “You can tell me. I won’t repeat a word; I promise.”
The need for a little vamp therapy still pulsed through her, but Buffy found herself smiling at her erstwhile savior. “Look, I appreciate the offer.” Her smile widened. “Maybe not the soda bath…”
A deep chuckle cut through the music. “I normally save that for a second meeting. I guess I’m off my game tonight.” He held out a hand. “Parker Abrams, normal guy and college student. You?”
Taking the proffered hand, she replied, “Buffy Summers, also a college student.” Thinking about the lack of ‘normal’ in her life erased the smile from Buffy’s face. “I’m sorry. If you’re looking for company, keep looking. I’d just make us both depressed.” She dropped his hand and stepped back. “I’ve got to go. Maybe I’ll see you around, Parker Abrams.”
“Wait! You can’t go out like this.” Parker shoved away from the table and trotted after her. “Buffy, come on. At least let me walk you back to the dorms. Sunnydale isn’t safe, you know. We have lots of muggers and wild dogs.”
Buffy’s stride hitched at his comment. She barely held back a bitter response on the state of Sunnydale’s nightlife. “I’ll be fine. I…I work out a lot, and I can take care of myself.” As soon as she said that, Buffy realized she wasn’t armed. There wasn’t even a stake in her jacket pocket.
Sliding an arm around Buffy’s waist, Parker shrugged. “Wouldn’t matter if you were a black belt, Buffy. Pretty girls should always have an escort.” He glanced at her and winked. “Since no one else has volunteered, I’ll just have to step in.”
The arm – and the implied comfort – convinced Buffy to stay silent and let Parker walk with her to the door. She stopped him there, though. “Stay, please,” she pleaded. “I…” Telling him he was in more danger from the vampires than she was didn’t seem like a good plan. “I need some alone time to think about that ex,” Buffy finally explained.
He didn’t want to listen. Thick eyebrows drawing together in a frown, Parker started to protest.
“Good night.” Going up on her toes, Buffy brushed her lips
across his cheek and ducked out the door before he could argue. Once outside,
she took off at top speed, fleeing Parker and the memory of
***
As
Peering around,
The incessant hum of the overhead lights echoed in her head.
The sound died away, and
A loud bang rocketed her out of her chair. Heart pounding,
she looked frantically around the library. Wearing a sheepish grin, a male
student waved the book he’d just picked up from the floor. Feeling weak and
shaky from the abrupt movements,
She reached into her bag and brought out her journal.
Writing about her day always helped her relax.
Well, Mama. It was that Buffy Summers. I couldn’t believe it, but…It was. She looked exactly the same.
The pen came off the paper, and
Maybe I was just expecting her to be the same, Mama. I can’t actually remember now. I was so mad. And scared.
Even while simply writing in her journal,
The only good thing
today was meeting
More teeth marks dented the abused plastic cap as
I don’t think she’s a
demon, Mama. She was too nice and good for that. And
Her eyes burned with tears and exhaustion. Tossing the pen
onto the table,
This time, she drifted off without interruption.
***
Since she was using Slayer speed, Buffy kept to the shadows and cemeteries on her way home. Panting, she burst into the house without a thought to what was proper. “Mom!”
The noise of her entrance, combined with her yell, got an almost immediate response. “Honey? What’s wrong?” Joyce’s head popped up over the back of the couch.
All of Buffy’s emotional control shattered. “Willow…she…she
left, Mom. I told her about
***
“Looks like you’re workin’ real
hard there, T.”
Oops. Mind still fuzzy from sleep,
She was too slow. “Don’t hurt yourself. Did you really think we bought the ‘working on a paper’ thing anyway?” Faith snorted. “I only look dumb.”
Rubbing her crusted and tired eyes,
Faith’s silence grew glacial.
“I guess you do, though.”
“Not for long, T. In fact, we’re moving you out right now.”
Faith unlooped
Between the surprise and the slew of nicknames,
Faith’s sigh suggested she was tired of talking. “Red knows.
I took her home after the thing at the Bronze.” She hesitated, looking
everywhere except at
If
“Come on, Blondie. You don’t even look dumb. Don’t play the blonde card. B’s got that one all locked up.” Faith held out a hand. “Let’s motor. Leavin’ Red alone when she’s pissed ain’t always a good thing. Last time, she tried this spell…” Breaking off, Faith grimaced. “Like I said, it ain’t a good idea for her to be by herself.”
Reluctantly,
“Grab your notebook and let’s go.” Faith didn’t seem
impressed with
“Red, though… She ain’t as reasonable as me. You might want
to get your thoughts all together before the big blow up.” A slow grin,
bracketed by dimples, left Tara in no doubt that Faith didn’t think she could
win against
Too tired to fight anymore,
“Relax, T.” Faith must have sensed her fear. A warm hand
dropped onto
“H-how do you kn-know?” Stuttering
from the stress,
In a move that left
Flushing at the accurate assessment of her condition,
“See? No B.” Faith waved at the empty room. “Now, sit your ass down and start pointing to the stuff you can’t live without.” Her wink belied the gruffness of her words as she rummaged in Buffy’s closet and unearthed a duffle bag.
“Um…It’s ju-just the stuff in the dr-dresser and the skirts in the closet.”
Faith yanked open drawers. True to her word, clothes and
underwear went into the bag with absolutely no regard for wrinkles. She
finished clearing out the single drawer
“You and me, T. We’re a lot alike,” Faith announced. Ignoring
There was an implied vulnerability in that pose. It called
out to
“You could say that, T.” Faith’s shoulders snapped back, as
if she were forcibly reminding herself to keep them that way. “Life sucked in
“I do.”
The duffel landed on the bed next to her, startling
“Then you need to stop,” Faith announced bracingly. “Come on. Take a look around to make sure I got everything before we head home. It gets too much later and Red is gonna be real unhappy.”
She made it sound like the end of the world, and
“You know it, T. Red’s got a temper to match her hair.”
Faith stuffed her hands in her back pockets and rocked on her heels while
“We’re good.”
Faith’s only response was a wide smile as she spun and strode out the door.
“It wasn’t heavy. It wouldn’t hurt me to carry my own
clothes,”
“I heard that, Blondie. Get the lead out. My girl’s waiting for us.” Faith’s voice wafted into the room.
Making an unseen face at her tormentor,
“‘Bout damn time.” Faith flung open the door to the
stairwell. She set a quick pace, and
At least Faith had waited until they were out of the dorm
and hustling across the Quad. “As l-long
as I can remember,”
“I ain’t asking to make you feel pressured.”
A shiver worked its way down
“A couple of times.” Faith reached out and grabbed
Faith’s eyes slid to the side as she said that. She was
lying. “I’d be happy to h-help if Wil-Willow wants me
to.” If she didn’t,
“Wicked. Thanks, Blondie.” Faith’s smile was so bright, Tara
realized she must have really been worried about
“You’re welcome.” Still trotting to stay close to Faith,
Faith dug out her keys, but the door swung open to reveal an
extremely disheveled
***
Buffy balled up the tissue in her hand and sniffed.
“I’m sure you’re overreacting, honey. Give
“Are you sure?” Buffy wasn’t. She wasn’t sure at all.
A kiss pressed against her head. “I’m sure, honey. You and
It was exactly what Buffy wanted to believe. “Thanks, Mom.” A yawn caught her off guard. “Do you mind if I skip the rest of the movie and go to bed?” Not like either of them had actually watched any of the movie to this point.
“Go on, Buffy. I think I might have an early night, too.” Joyce’s deep breath and sigh were loud against the sounds of the television. “I’ve spent too many late nights watching reruns and tearjerkers.”
Standing up, Buffy held out her hand. “I’m not that far away, Mom. You could always come visit.”
“I didn’t want to intrude, honey. You’re in college now; I’d just be in the way.” Joyce’s arm snaked around Buffy’s back again as they moved to the stairs.
“In the way of what? My demon ex-roommate trying to take over my body? Or me scaring my new roommate the second she walks in the door?” Buffy tilted her head and looked up at Joyce. “I haven’t had a social life since we left LA, Mom. Even as College Buffy, I’m still the Slayer. I do classes, I attempt to do homework, and I slay. End of story. Some good old fashioned Mom Time would be a welcome change.”
They walked up the stairs in silence. At Buffy’s door, Joyce turned and wrapped her in a hug. “Buffy Time sounds good to me, too.” Her voice was husky and choked, and she turned and moved away so quickly Buffy didn’t have a chance to respond. “Good night, honey. Remember our doughnut run in the morning.”
***
“Now, remember, honey. Just be yourself with
“Thanks, Mom.” Returning the smile, Buffy leaned across the
Jeep and hugged Joyce before leaping to the sidewalk. “I’ll give it a try.”
With a final wave, she jogged up to the dorm. The Jeep’s engine roared behind
her as she yanked open the door to Stevenson Hall and sprinted up the stairs. “
The hallway was full of people in a hurry. Buffy mumbled a few good mornings as she dodged the bodies clogging her path. She paused outside her dorm room’s door. “I’m not that person anymore.” The key slipped into the lock; the handle turned. Buffy stepped inside…
…and stared at the empty bed and lack of personal items on
Numbly, Buffy wandered over and sat on her bed.
She couldn’t stay here. Not now. Buffy jumped up. She had to get out of here.
Almost running, Buffy fled the room and the residence hall.
She needed to talk to
Home?
No. Her mom was at the gallery.
“Giles,” Buffy said out loud. She could go talk to Giles. She hadn’t seen him in a few days. Picking up her pace again, she jogged down the sidewalk. A long talk and some sparring. That would help.
“Buffy?” The voice didn’t register at first. “Buffy! Stop!” The shout finally penetrated and she skidded to a halt. Panting, Parker Abrams ran up. “I saw you come out of Stevenson. Is something wrong? The meeting with the loan shark not go so well?”
It took Buffy a few seconds to make the connection to their conversation from last night. “Something like that.” Buffy didn’t tell him that she was actually the loan shark and Tara the customer afraid of getting her legs broken. “Look, I’m sorry…”
“Why? You didn’t do anything.” Parker smiled. “Are you late for class or is this part of your daily workout?”
Neither, Buffy wanted to say. This is me running away from my problems, like always. “No. No classes. I had some free time. Thought I’d hit the gym.”
“I’m sure your muscles could handle a day off,” he said. Holding out his hand, Parker pleaded. “Why don’t we go for a walk? I know a great place to have lunch later, and I’m a really good listener, too.”
Buffy hesitated. She really needed to talk to Giles. Pound on the heavy bag.
“Please?” Parker added softly.
His hand was warm as she reached out and took it. “Where to, Parker Abrams?”
“It’s a beautiful day,” Parker said. “How about we just walk? Do a little talking?”
Talking was the last thing Buffy wanted to do. She had too many secrets, too many things to hide. “The walk sounds perfect.” The only way the talking would work was if… “So tell me about Parker Abrams. What do you do when you aren’t out rescuing people from loans sharks or exes?”
He hadn’t let go of Buffy’s hand. In fact, his thumb made tiny circles on the back of it as they ambled along the path through the Quad. “Actually, you’re my first rescue,” Parker confessed. “You seem to bring out the knight in shining armor in me, Buffy Summers.”
“Really?” Buffy glanced up, smiling slightly. “I’m not normally the needs to be saved type.” In fact, I usually do the saving, she continued in her head. “It feels nice not to fight my own battles for once.”
“Look!” Parker pointed the finger of his free hand at her. “Was that a smile? A real smile?”
Giggling, Buffy ducked her head. “No. No way. You must be seeing things.”
Silence answered her. Then, in a puzzled voice, Parker said, “I didn’t imagine the smile, but… Buffy, what’s this on your neck?”
Shit. Stiffening, Buffy fought the urge to yank the collar of her shirt over the scar Parker had seen. “Oh, that.” That’s just the bite my vampire boyfriend gave me after the Mayor of Sunnydale poisoned him.
Parker stopped walking, his hand tightening around hers. “Buffy?” He obviously wasn’t going to leave it alone.
“I…uh…I got bitten.” Understatement. With what she hoped was a convincingly casual smile, Buffy explained, “By a puppy.”
“Must have been a really angry puppy. You have a scar.” Parker stroked a finger over the mark, and Buffy shivered at the light, almost tickling touch.
Needing to change the subject, Buffy tried to turn the tables. “Now that you’ve seen my scars…do I get to see yours?” She nearly rolled her eyes; that was way too flirty for a first stroll across campus.
From his grin, Parker didn’t see it that way. “I don’t have anything like that, Buffy.” The grin got wider. “All of my scars are psychological.”
This was better. Buffy relaxed now that the conversation wasn’t focused on her. “Oooh, inner scars. Those are the best kind.” She bumped his hip and then resumed their walk. “So what is it?” Emulating his fishing expedition from the previous night, she asked, “Bad break up? Crazy ex-girlfriend?” Enjoying their banter, Buffy kept trying to guess at Parker’s scars. “I know. You’re a CIA agent, posing as a college student.”
“Not quite.” Parker wasn’t smiling.
Getting a bad feeling about his answer, Buffy sobered, too. “Parker?” Had she offended him somehow?
“My father…” She saw him swallow hard. “My father died recently.”
“Oh my God, Parker.” Buffy came to an abrupt halt and spun to face him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up.” Bowing her head, she mumbled, “Bad, bad Buffy.” She should go to Giles’. At least there, she didn’t have to worry about hurting anything except the heavy bag and her hands.
As she pulled away, Parker gripped her arm. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m OK to talk about it now.” He peered intently into her eyes. “Really.”
Buffy slowly accepted his assurances. “I can’t imagine losing a parent. Well, I lost my dad a long time ago. To his secretary,” she said bitterly. “But Mom…” Shivering, Buffy flinched at just the thought.
“Yeah. It’s not easy.” Buffy wrapped an arm around Parker as he went on, “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, though. This isn’t some big ploy for sympathy. I’m not like that.”
He smiled again, and Buffy couldn’t resist returning it. He had a nice smile.
“Don’t you just hate guys that are all ‘I’m dark and brooding, so give me love?’” Parker led them off the path and sat on a shaded bench.
“I don’t think I’ve met anyone like that,” Buffy lied. The scar on her neck itched suddenly. “I’ve been too busy to do much dating.” That wasn’t exactly untrue. Slaying and a normal social life didn’t go together. And Angel…well, moonlit picnics in cemeteries didn’t count in Buffy’s book.
A light breeze rustled the leaves and branches overhead.
Parker turned slowly, drawing his right knee up onto the bench and facing Buffy. “You give any thought to changing that? Maybe making time in your schedule for a date now and then?”
“Not until now,” Buffy answered. Was he leaning toward her? Watching closely, Buffy decided he was. Parker got closer and closer. Buffy felt him press into her side, as his head tilted, and his lips hovered above hers for a long second. “I think it’s time I made time for dating.”
She shifted her weight, moving in to Parker’s soft kiss.
***
Smoothing her sweating hands over her skirt,
“Hey, T. Thought you were gonna hide in there all day.” Faith looked up from the dagger she was sharpening. “You sleep OK?”
“Yes.”
Faith cocked her head and frowned. “You forget your date already?” She held up the weapon, twirling the pommel in her hand. “These come in handy when I need to step in.”
“Uh…”
A husky chuckle let her know she was off base with her question. “Definitely not a cop, T. Special security, maybe.” Faith hopped up and shoved the dagger into a leather sheath resting on an end table. “But that ain’t a big deal right now. You want some breakfast?”
Off balance from the rapid topic change,
“Hope you don’t mind company. I’m starving.” Moving quickly, Faith crossed the living room to the small galley kitchen. “Bacon and eggs, OK? I’m pretty good with the simple stuff. Anything else and things get crispy.”
“I c-can make my own br-breakfast,
Faith,”
Brown eyes narrowed at her.
“And I w-won’t even burn down the kitchen.” So there, she added inside. “If I’m going to be s-staying here then I’m not a guest. I n-need to earn my keep.”
Faith cracked several eggs against the countertop and dumped the yolks and whites into a bowl. “Next time. Grab a seat and enjoy your one day of pamperin’.”
The whisk slowed for a second before picking up speed again. “Red’s dealing.” Faith didn’t seem to want to talk about her girlfriend.
Unfortunately for her,
“Yeah, she and B have been through a lot.” Still not looking up, Faith left the egg mixture sitting on the counter and pulled a rasher of bacon out of the refrigerator. The strips lined the skillet she placed on the stove.
“Wh-what about you and Buffy?” If
she hadn’t been watching closely,
Turning on the burner, Faith finally met her eyes. “Look, T, you can’t lump me and B together like you can her and Red. I ain’t been in Sunnydale that long, and, well… Let’s just say B and me had some issues.”
Those issues hadn’t been the same ones she’d had with Buffy;
After a few minutes, though, Faith picked up the conversation. “Before Red, I was a real ‘want, take, have’ kinda girl. B got all up in my shit when I went after Red. Made sure I knew if I hurt her, she’d make sure I regretted it.”
“Bu-Buffy threatened you?”
Faith’s dimples popped out at the sound. “You laugh, T, but the Pastel Princess ain’t as helpless as she looks.” Using hot dog tongs, Faith removed the bacon from the skillet and placed them on a plate and covered them with paper towel before pouring the well-beaten eggs into the still-sizzling skillet.
“I kn-know she’s not,”
Looking up, Faith said quietly, “Me and B have a truce, T. We leave each other alone so Red don’t feel like a wishbone, but… I ain’t never seen her do anything like what she told us last night.”
“You wa-want me to give her
another chance?”
Soft footsteps sounded in the kitchen, and then Faith’s hand
tucked
Staring into Faith’s intense brown eyes,
“Welcome. “Faith’s grin seemed to say she didn’t consider
her ‘non-interference’ policy to be a big deal. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe
“Faith, I can’t eat that much!” The mound of eggs on the
first plate resembled a fluffy yellow mountain.
A pained sigh answered
Feet stomping on the linoleum,
“Fuck no. Red don’t trust me around other people,” Faith snorted.
Remembering a comment along those lines from her first
conversation with
Eyes narrowed, Faith scowled in response. “It ain’t an act.”
“Of course it isn’t,”
***
“Why don’t we go somewhere else?” Parker said softly. “Making out in the Quad seems…I don’t know. Uncool?”
Buffy then noticed they were drawing some attention, Buffy noticed. People stared at them as they walked by and Buffy was sure she heard one, “Get a room,” comment.
“Sure. Sorry.” Wiping the back of her right hand over her mouth, Buffy stood up. She found it hard to believe that she was doing this out in the open with a guy she had just met.
Parker followed her up and stood so they were pressed together. “Hey, that wasn’t a complaint. I didn’t think you’d want to get a reputation, though. Being a freshman is bad enough without having to deal with rumors.”
He was right. Stepping away, Buffy tried to smile. “I’ve had
enough of people talking about me to last a lifetime. Thanks for protecting my
honor.” Smiling got easier as Parker wrapped an arm around her and started them
down the path. She didn’t remember smiling since this whole thing with
“How about I introduce you to some friends of mine? Nice guys, I promise.” They left the path and started across the grass, heading past the library. “I pledged Wolf House; we’re having a big party tonight. We can check in on the set up, say hello to my pledge brothers, and find someplace to do lunch.”
“Sure.” What else did she have to do? It wasn’t like she had any friends to spend time with right now. Buffy leaned her head on Parker’s shoulder during the walk to Greek Row. “You don’t seem like a frat boy.”
His arm shifted. “You mean because I haven’t had a drink the entire time we’ve been walking?”
Buffy giggled. “Something like that. And you didn’t take advantage of me.” She looked up at him, seeing him watching her. “You could have,” she confessed shyly. “Most men would have.”
“I’m not most men, Buffy.” Parker lightly poked the tip of her nose with his finger. “Don’t just lump me in with the knuckle-draggers, OK?” Letting her go, he jogged up a set of cracked concrete stairs. “Welcome to Wolfhouse.” With a flourish, he yanked open the door.
“Where the men howl at the moon and the women run for their lives?” Buffy joked. She stepped around him and stopped just inside the doorway. A quartet of pool players glanced up their game. A battered table and empty couches took up the rest of the main room.
Parker scowled good-naturedly. “I don’t howl. I’m one of the good guys. Geeze. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
Skipping ahead, Buffy called out, “Over and over until it sinks in. Remember that ex?” she reminded him. “Well, he wasn’t a good guy.” Far, far from it. “I may need a while to make the adjustment.”
“As long as it takes, Buffy.” Parker chased after her and pulled her into his arms. “There’s no hurry. This isn’t a race. We’ll go slow, if that’s what you want.”
A laugh badly disguised as a cough drove them apart. “Parker, you gonna introduce us to your new girl?”
Parker never looked away from Buffy. “Guys, this is Buffy. Buffy, the guys.”
Slowly turning in Parker’s arms, Buffy waved at the four young men. “Hi.”
“Hi, Buffy.” They managed a ragged chorus with their
welcome. The tallest moved forward and held out a hand. “
“Nice to meet you.” Buffy repeated the handshaking ceremony with Paul, Mike, and Sam.
Although he’d mentioned spending time with his friends when they’d been on campus, Parker didn’t seem too interested in that. Buffy felt him attempting to push her toward the stairs at the back of the room.
She held her ground. “Slow, remember?” Buffy asked pleadingly.
Parker stiffened for a second and then nodded. “Slow,” he agreed. When he pushed again, it was to maneuver them both to one of the leather couches.
***
Sighting along the cue, Buffy reminded herself not to shove the wooden tool through the ball. Slayer strength and pool playing mixed badly. With a gentle motion, she pulled back on the cue and snapped it forward. “Shit!” She hadn’t broken the striped ball – just sent it careening off the table.
“I got it.”
Buffy handed her cue to Mike. “Here. I give up. I’m not
meant to play this game.” In the last thirty minutes, she’d managed to knock a
dozen balls onto the floor and had actually broken
No one disagreed with her comment.
“Don’t worry about it, Buffy. I didn’t bring you here for a pool tournament.” Parker put his cue away on the wall rack. “Come upstairs while I grab a few things. Then we’ll head out for some lunch.”
“Hey, can we…” Paul started to say.
Parker was quick to interrupt. “No. I am not taking you bottomless pits out for food.” He guided Buffy toward the stairs with a hand in the small of her back. “My room’s the first one on the right. It isn’t locked. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right there. Just give me a minute alone with these guys.”
“Sure.” Feeling every eye in the room on her, Buffy slowly climbed the stairs. The quiet from the main room was stilted, as if Parker and his friends were waiting for her to get out of earshot.
It was a relief to open the door to Parker’s room and step inside. Buffy sighed and rolled her head to loosen the taut muscles of her neck before doing a little scouting. The room was cluttered but cleaner than she’d expected. Weren’t all college students supposed to be slobs? Buffy knew her own cleaning skills were suspect.
Unlike Tara. Buffy winced at the memory of
Buffy wandered to the desk on the far side of the room. A
cork bulletin board hung on the wall over the cluttered surface. Photos, notes,
and mementos were pinned haphazardly to the board. Brushing her fingers over
the items, Buffy zeroed in on a group shot of Parker and
Everybody in the shot was smiling.
Their smiles reminded Buffy of the photo of her,
The urge to run was back. Buffy couldn’t just take off, though. Parker was downstairs, planning on taking her to lunch. Striding across the room, Buffy opened the door and stepped into the hallway. She’d offer Parker a rain check.
As she stood at the top of the stairs, Parker’s voice
drifted up. Her Slayer hearing kicked in. “Give it a rest,
“The hell you won’t! Look, Parker, the contest ends tomorrow
night at midnight, and we’re way behind in the points. Why are you dragging
this out?”
Newest one? Were they talking about her? The hair on the back of Buffy’s neck prickled and she automatically smoothed a hand over it.
Parker laughed. It wasn’t the warm and friendly laugh Buffy had heard in the Quad. “She was so into me we nearly got it on in public. Buffy’s a firecracker.”
“And you brought her back here?”
The words faded in and out as Buffy fought off the nausea swirling in her stomach
She glimpsed
Score…point total…Buffy… The words echoed in her head.
Clapping a hand over her mouth, Buffy bolted back into the room and straight for the trashcan by the desk. When the heaving stopped, she fumbled through the pile of clothing on the floor for something to use to clean up. A T-shirt wiped the clammy sweat from her skin and the traces of vomit from her mouth.
Buffy tossed it back onto the bed and staggered to the
window. It slid up with a screech. Staring out into the perfect
Footsteps sounded on the stairs – probably Parker’s.
Driven into action, Buffy straddled the windowsill. The two-story drop was the only way out. Dragging her left foot outside, she pushed away from the building and plummeted to the ground.
Buffy hit the ground and used her momentum to spring into a forward somersault. It didn’t completely offset the impact from the fall; however, she was able to walk away from Wolf House with only twinge in her ankle and a large bruise on her pride.
The bright and sunny day had turned cold for Buffy. She
shivered, despite the actual warmth of the day. Head bent and shoulders
hunched, she counted her past and recent relationship failures with each step.
Right foot, Tara. Left foot, Angel. Faith Willow. The list
started over.
This time, though, she didn’t move on.
Instead, images of
Buffy’s stride slowed…then immediately picked up. Slamming her feet onto the sidewalk, she glowered. She wasn’t the same person. She wasn’t.
Not even the forceful strides beat the memories of
Her footfalls softened again. Maybe she was still that person. Buffy moodily considered that. Angel. She’d loved him. Or thought she had. Now she wasn’t so sure. He’d been different and forbidden. A Slayer and a vampire.
Her lips twisted into a bitter arc.
They’d been a modern version of Romeo and Juliet. Except Buffy hadn’t loved him enough to join him in death. She’d used him to get what she wanted in the end. Sure, she’d saved the world. That didn’t excuse her whispered “I love you,” and the Judas kiss right before she shoved her sword into Angel’s stomach.
A single tear streaked her face. It was joined with a horde of
friends as the next name slipped out, “
***
With a low growl, Faith raised her hands with her fingers bent into claws. “Take it back, Blondie.”
Giggling,
Faith froze immediately. “Fuck it all, T, that ain’t fair. Put the plate down. Carefully.” The clawed hands were gone, replaced by opened palms. “See? You’re safe.” Her eyes were glued to the eggs that seemed to tremble on the edge of the plate.
“Big, bad Faith. Brought down b-by one little wi-witch and some food.” Having proved her point,
Faith grumbled – but
Nibbling at a piece of bacon,
Mouth full of food, Faith simply nodded her agreement.
“And Wi-Willow tr-trusts
you to be here with me?” The crunch of
“Fuck, no.” Faith seemed very sure of that. “She trusts you to kick my ass if I get outta line. Red’s real impressed with you being a witch and all.” The last part was partially garbled as she stuffed a forkful of eggs into her mouth.
***
“I got it,” Faith told her. She hopped off the stool and trotted into the living room. “Red musta still been pretty out of it when she went to class this morning. She ain’t forgot her key since we first moved in.”
“Hey, Red, I’m gonna…” Faith’s voice cut off abruptly.
Alerted by the sudden silence in the other room,
Faith and another woman stood statue-still on either side of the apartment threshold.
“F-Faith? Is some-something wr-wrong?”
The tension was so thick,
Remaining frozen, Faith didn’t answer. The older woman,
however, seemed to snap out of her trance. Gently moving Faith out of the way,
she stepped into the apartment. “Not wrong, exactly. You must be
Not sure how to respond to that,
Before she could finish, though, the woman turned to Faith.
“I was hoping to talk with you and
“She ain’t home yet, Mrs. S.” Faith had turned and was watching the older woman closely. “Her last class don’t get out ‘til one.”
With a wry smile, Mrs. Summers nodded. “I’m so sorry. I should have introduced myself earlier.”
No. She definitely shouldn’t have. In fact,
Mrs. Summers’ sigh filled the room. “Of course, honey, if
it’s that important.” Her hazel eyes darkened as she peered at
Biting back an instinctive refusal,
“What happened last night, Faith? Buffy came home in tears,
and she…”
Hands shaking, she squirted more dish soap into the murky,
bubble-free water she’d left and watched new foam build. Buffy’s mother.
What did Mrs. Summers have to apologize for? She hadn’t been the one to make
“…didn’t see Buffy,”
Ignoring the shame coiling in her stomach,
“Willow, honey, calm down.”
***
When she finally ran out of bad relationships and choices to mull over, Buffy stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and blearily peered around. Nothing looked familiar at first.
She spun slowly and looked again.
A dry cleaners. The Sunnydale Credit Union…Buffy snorted. All the inner peps talks and the laundry list of personal failures and she’d only made it to the outskirts of campus – just a few steps from the main co-ed drinking spot. With a sense of the inevitable, Buffy continued walking until Jack’s came into view. Maybe Xander was working and would spot her a drink. She could use one…or a dozen.
Her hopes for drunken forgetfulness were dashed. Xander wasn’t polishing the bar or stacking glasses. The owner was. He waved at her and leaned against the gleaming wood surface. “Your friend isn’t here.”
“That’s OK,” Buffy answered. And it was. Maybe it was
actually a good thing that Xander had the afternoon off.
That earned her a long look. Then, with a snort, Jack turned and placed his hand on the tap. “I’ve got a brand new brew. First one’s on the house if you tell me what you think. I got a hell of a deal on this, and I’m thinking of making it the house beer.”
Great. With a wry twist to her lips, Buffy nodded. Why not? From a fuck for points to a barroom guinea pig. “Line ‘em up.”
Jack slid the first chilled mug down the bar. “One at a time,” he warned. “You get too outta hand, I’ll cut you off.” Glaring at a group of college-aged young men in the back, Jack went on. “I’ve already replaced too many tables and chairs since the start of the semester.”
Holding back a comment on his policy of serving anyone – even her – a drink, Buffy picked up the cold, condensation-streaked mug by the handle and raised it to her lips. She was a Slayer. Alcohol wouldn’t affect her, no matter how much she drank.