First Part

Part 8

"I want you to join me in the kitchen for dinner tonight," Angel stated one evening.

For a moment, he'd thought she hadn't heard him but then he realized she'd stopped drawing in the "journal" he'd made for her.  He'd hoped she could use the diary to work on her feelings, maybe improve her English if she wanted.  He'd found, instead, that all her scribbling in it was just that: scribbling.  He thought he'd feel guilty for having opened the book and snooped; instead he was just disturbed.  And rapidly growing desperate.  In a more positive moment, he'd told himself it was because she couldn't remember how to read or write, but when he'd tried to show her, she'd run off into the corner and hidden herself again.  Fearing a repeat of the Roff incident, he'd let it rest.

"Buffy?  I want you to join me in the kitchen.  Come on, love.  The Roffs, servants, even the Brinda are all celebrating Brona down at the…." Square, they were at the Square, he'd been going to say.  He didn't know how mention of a Square would go over.  Fuck.

"Buffy, they're all out," he continued, hoping his desperation wasn't showing.  "It's just you and me.  It's safe.  I want you to come down with me."

Buffy whimpered and shook her head the teeniest bit.  "Please, Angel, no."

Encouraged by her first words in over a month, he walked to where she was sitting and knelt beside her, using a finger to raise her eyes to meet his.  "I'll protect you, love.  I promise you.  You're safe."

His heart clenched when he saw how sad and scared she was.  Taking a chance, he leaned in and quickly brushed his lips over hers.  "Come on," he whispered, a small, reassuring (he hoped) smile on his lips. 

She held his gaze and he found himself insanely happy that she was even considering his request.  Not giving her too much time to think about it, he took her hand, raised her to her feet and, as she held on to him for dear life, led her out of their suite and down into the main part of the house.

**

As the warm season returned, Buffy found that she was going stir crazy.  That said, she was still frightened of straying too far from Angel.  He'd talked her into training and, as he had promised, she was indeed feeling more confident but still, she was terrified to venture out of the main part of the house.  Even the grounds seemed unsafe.

She was standing by the window in their sleeping chamber – bedroom, Angel'd said was the word – looking down at Tarana Square, squinting to try and see what wares were being peddled in the marketplace that day.  Over the past two months, her observations had led her to the knowledge that the Tar was much different than the Pava.  Things seemed more… relaxed.  Mates appeared to have more freedom; inside the walls of the Fortress, they were not tethered to their Masters and walked beside, not behind, them.  Additionally, she could see that mates often spoke to their Masters in public and for as long as she'd watched the Square, she'd never seen a Master discipline his mate with more than a light slap on the cheek. 

In the Pava, there had been few humans.  In the Tar, the demon and human populations appeared to be almost equal in number.  Buffy was amazed that the different races seemed to get along well enough, that the marketplace served both equally.  All in all, the Tar seemed more civilized than the Pava.  She didn't know if this was the result of Angel's rule or not, but, clearly, the Tar was a peaceful place to live.  Still, appearances could be deceiving. 

"We could go, you know," Angel said, entering the room quietly.  "The Brinda said they have some beautiful blue fabrics that would 'match your pale coloring perfectly.'  *Her * words," he said with a shrug.

She smiled at seeing him but then shook her head and looked again at the market.  "All those people and…. there's no way it's safe, Angel.  What if one of them…. I don't know…."

He moved closer to her and kissed her neck.  She loved to feel the tickle of his lips as they brushed across the raised scar left behind from the mating.  "You're my mate, Buffy.  No one will touch you.  Mates' bonds are sacred in the Fortress, you know that.  And beyond that, you've been training….  But nothing's going to happen.  I'll be with you the whole time.  And, if you want, we could even take Darn and Borat with us to act as sentries.  You'd be safe with me alone but with the three of us, there'd be no way for a problem.  What do you say?"

She hesitated but continued to look down.  "Blue?" she whispered after a moment, biting her lip.  "Colored garments would be nice and if I remember correctly blue was my favorite color.  Or, pink.  Was it pink?"

He pulled her close to him.  "What do you like now?  Isn't that what's important?  The life you know now?"

She frowned and stepped away from him, wrapping her arms around herself.  "But it's all… it's all so… ugly.  My life… it's all so ugly.  I want… I want a happy life with you, I do.  It's just that the rest….

"I mean… how… *how* could he do that to me, Angel?  How?" she whispered, tears beginning to flow down her face as she brought up her "Penance" for the first time since the blizzard.  "What kind of man was he?  Why are…. Angel, I'm just… I'm so scared all the time and I just feel…. I can't get clean, Angel, I'm so dirty and disgusting and I can't get clean and I can't seem to forget.  I *want* to forget, Angel.  I want to…. I want us to make love again, and I want to not be so scared.  I'm so scared all the time.  And… it hurts.  It hurts that I can't remember my people.  I want to remember them and I just can't!  And I *hate* that the main reason I want to return to Earth is so I can KILL him.  I want him to die a painful, excruciating death.  I lay in bed… and I find I wake up and all I've been dreaming of is killing him, making him bleed, making him hurt - all the ways I can make him hurt and torture him - but then I want to bring him back here just so the Roffs can balance him… so I can kill him again and again and what kind of person does that make me?  You say I'm a good person but what kind of person am I when all I want to do is what was done to me?  Doesn't that make me HIM?  Doesn't that make me even dirtier and disgusting? And I want to kill him, Angel.  I want to kill him – I want to MAKE HIM HURT!

She paced the room and she knew she was acting crazy but she couldn't stop.  "I mean, I want to go get some fucking blue fabric and I'm too afraid!  To go into the town Square where I am Queen, where no one by any rights can touch me but, every time I think of it, I see Ma'a Square and I remember them touching me… so many hands, God, so many hands, and… and they were laughing at me like I was nothing and I didn't even get how I was just trying to survive, that the fact they were treating me like I was nothing didn't even register because I *was* nothing!  A slave… a prisoner.   I've spent my whole life… or at least the fucking part of my life that I can fucking remember, as nothing, as less than nothing, as fucking currency… as a toy and I–"  She took a deep breath.  "And I thought….  And for all that time, Angel, I was *sure* that I had done something really horrible, like killed someone or stolen something or… I just knew there had to be some reason for them to keep me there, I mean why would they keep me there if it wasn't something horrible?  It never occurred to me that I'd been *sold*, that I was *kidnapped* and…. Angel, how am I supposed to go home when all I want to do is kill him and what's worse, how am I supposed to go home when they'll know when I get there that I was *stupid* enough to think that my Penance–"

"Buffy," Angel said, grabbing her arms to stop her, "you were NOT stupid.  You were a victim.  You did *nothing* wrong.  Take that back!"

Her breath caught as she looked up at him.  "But I *feel* so stupid.  I should have known, Angel.  How could I let that happen?"

"You didn't know, love."  He brushed her hair back from her face.  "They… the balancing.  Buffy, it's not like you're willfully repressing memories.  Balancing... it heals you but it also kills your memories.  There's no way to fight that.  It's a way to control you.  And they wanted to control you.

"Love….  I get that you want to kill Quentin.  I think… I'll let you decide what to do, ultimately, but Buffy, if you didn't want to kill him I'd think something was wrong.  He did… he did the worst things to you, Buffy–" Angel said hoarsely.  "He just… he's a… a… sick fuck and he deserves more than death.  A lifetime in Hell is more than he deserves.  Take it from me."

Take it from him?  That meant something… what did that mean? And then he pulled her close, so close she almost couldn't breathe and she melted into him… no longer caring about anything other than holding him.  God, those thoughts… she hadn't been able to put them into words but they'd been clouding her mind.  She felt some sort of weird relief now that she'd gotten them out.  Not better really but relieved. 

After a moment, she left his arms and went to the dressing and washing room, intent on splashing some cold water on her face to try to calm her tear-stained skin.  Having cooled down a little, she re-entered the room where Angel stood wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands as he, now, stared down towards the Square.

Intellectually, she knew he was right.  None of this was her fault.  But still….

She needed a break from all the Quentin-death thoughts.  And Angel… she hated to see him cry.  He deserved so much more.

"Blue, you said?" she asked quietly, terrified by what she was suggesting.  She crossed to him and laid a hand on his arm and gently rubbed it.  His breath was shuddering and once again, he wrapped her in his arms and held her tight.

After collecting himself, he choked out, "Blue, definitely blue."

After a moment, she pulled back from him, and trying to be brave, smiled widely.  "Well, let's get the boys and go shopping!  I seem to remember liking shopping.  I know you want me to live in the moment, but as of this moment, I'm declaring liking shopping, so…."

He stopped her babbling with a kiss and, chuckling, took her hand and pulled her from the room.

***

After the "very successful" (Buffy's words - they'd bought a lot) trip to the marketplace, Buffy seemed to sort of turn around.  People had left her alone in the Square and that, coupled with her increased confidence in her fighting abilities, seemed to allow her to relax when outside.   She would spend hours at the marketplace, guarded by either him or one of his pran, looking over the wares and speaking to the craftsmen.  She seemed happier than she'd been since they'd reunited.

Her confidence and happiness had spilled over at home as well.   She'd become more playful, more flirtatious, and had very quickly - to his shock and delight – reignited their romantic and sexual relationship.  Also at her prodding, Angel had renewed their English lessons and after six months she could read and write at what he estimated was around an eight year old's level and her speaking, though heavily-accented, was actually pretty understandable.

Things at the Tar, itself, remained peaceful.  Occasionally, splinter groups outside the walls of the Fortress would get ideas about overthrowing him but Angel found that the Tarana people on the whole were very dedicated to him.  Several times he'd only learned of a problem after a local had handled the situation on his behalf.  Of course, at those times, he would reward them handsomely.  He was happy to do so.  With the Tarana handling his battles, he could stay home and spend more time with Buffy.  Their lives were good. 

Which was exactly why he didn't want to bring up returning to Earth.

When Giles' contact, Lorne, had located Buffy for them, his intel had shown that it would be an arduous process to get her back.  Due to that process and the time "difference," he'd promised Giles he would return in seven days.  That gave him five years almost to the day to locate Buffy on Bethara and bring her home. 

That time was almost up.  And he knew that, deep down, he was avoiding bringing up the return because every time he thought about it, he was overwhelmed with terror and dread. He'd already lost her twice… he didn't know if he could survive a third time.  When he'd come back from Hell, seeing her every day but being unable to touch her, to love her, had practically killed him.  And from her standpoint….  He knew that once she knew the truth of the curse and its break clause… of how they knew there was a break clause in the first place… she'd be horrified.  But he also knew that once she heard all that he'd done as Angelus, of how he'd hurt her and her "family" so badly, her horror would quickly turn to hate.  How could it not?  The pre-Betharan Buffy may have forgiven him, but for this Buffy, he was all she had.  She'd come such a long way since they'd left the Pava, but with this breach of trust….  There was no way this would end any way other than badly.    

And even if she forgave him, on Bethara, they could be together.  They could be happy… *he* could be happy… they could make love to each other whenever they wished.  On Earth, though, the curse was still very much an issue.  Something about the Betharan dimension changed his physiology - this he'd known from Lorne - but when they returned to Earth, the curse and its "limitations" would return instantly.  He knew that Buffy knew about his "Earth sun allergy" as she liked to call it and the fact that on Earth he didn't eat food, rather he drank blood, but, despite starting the conversation several times, he'd never gone into the curse and how it limited him – limited *them*… how on Earth, the only way to stay safe was to stay apart.

What were they going to do?

Lorne had invited Angel to work for him in Los Angeles upon his return, if he was feeling dangerously happy or frustrated being around her again.  While Angel was grateful for the option, that wasn't a satisfactory solution in the least.  Somehow he'd have to "suck it up" and be strong.  As hard as never making love to her was going to be, he knew it would be criminal to leave her.  In Buffy's world, the only Sunnydale elements she knew were herself and Angel.  Even Quentin was only a name, a moniker to be hated.  Nothing more, nothing less.

He'd asked the Brinda to prepare a picnic lunch of Buffy's favorite foods.  That afternoon, he was taking Buffy deeper into the grounds to her favorite spot, a grassy area by a small brook that ran through the low lying hills.  It was there, over a meal, that he would break her heart.

***

"You want to tell me what's bothering you?" Buffy asked, in a gentle voice, as they finished up their sizable lunch.

Angel froze.  She could practically smell his fear.

"Angel, is something wrong?  God… am I… I'm not going to be a Slayer again – like at the Pava, am I?"

"What? No!" Angel cried, his voice filled with disgust.  "Buffy, I told you.  That's never going to happen again.  *Never.*  I promise you that, okay?"

She nodded, confused, but decided to wait him out. 

"I… Buffy… there's some things we need to talk about… things, uh… things I just…."

"It's okay, Angel," she said placing her hand on his arm, trying to comfort him.  "Just tell me."

Angel's eyes closed, his brow furrowing as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand.  After clearing his throat several times, he continued.

"I… Well, Buffy- Okay.  You know how I told you about Lorne helping me to find you – how he told me you were in this dimension?"

She nodded.

"Well… when I left to come get you, I promised Giles I'd find you and bring you home… seven days after I left.  Time moves differently here and–"

"It's time, isn't it?" she said, her voice choked, her grip tightening on his arm.

Angel stared into her eyes for a moment and then nodded slowly.

Buffy was terrified.  She'd tried – so hard – to remember her life on Earth but, to date, she could recall nothing.  Angel had told her stories but that was all the information she had.  Nothing came originally from her mind – it was all only things related by him. 

Still… it was her duty, right?  She was the Slayer there – a different kind of Slayer there – one that had to fight and protect.  At least that's what he'd said.

"When do we need to go?" she asked quietly.  "Right away?"

She watched Angel swallow.  "We'd need to go within the next week or two."

She nodded and began to rise but looked back at him when he grabbed her hand.    

"There's more, Buffy.  More you need to know."

Sitting beside him again, she struggled to retain her composure as he continued.  "There's… things on Earth – things that happened there that you need to know about.  Things that are going to happen once we get back.

"Relax, Buffy," he said, with a sad smile, patting her hand reassuringly.  "It has nothing to do with how you got here… or it does, but it's not going to lead to you coming back to the Pava.  I would never let that happen.  I promise you that."

She frowned for a moment but then nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"But Buffy… you know I can't go out in the sun there – I told you that. But there are other things about being there… other limitations or circumstances or whatever you want to call them.  There's - I need to tell you something about me that you are not going to like… and you'll have to trust me when I say how bad it is because you won't remember.  Okay?"

She nodded, worried.

Taking her hand, he said, "I… Well, on Earth you know I'm a vampire.  And – vampires are evil, Buffy…. Like the parnazya here.  They are soulless and evil."

"You're not ev– "

"No, I'm not.  But – well, the reason I have a conscience is because I hurt a girl – a gypsy girl – about 100 years ago in Eastern Europe – a region on Earth.  Her kin cursed me with a soul… a conscience.  It was devastating to me but ultimately, I'm glad it happened because now I can help people.  I will never redeem myself but I can at least try to prevent other people from getting harmed by other parnazya… vampires.

"But Buffy – they *cursed* me. It's a curse.  And because it's a curse it has limitations.  If I experience any happiness – any *real* abiding happiness – my soul is taken away and I become like the parnazya here – like the old Tar.  I – we know about the 'break' in the curse, Buffy… because–" 

She watched him swallow hard and despite her fear, she reached up and stroked his cheek, hurt when he shrugged her off. 

"We know because it happened, Buffy.  We – we were in love there.  I know you know that – but we were in love and we made love and Buffy, I was so happy, I felt so… loved – felt so much more than I deserved and… then it happened.  I felt my soul ripped away and – Buffy, I was very dangerous when I was soulless and I became that again.  I hurt you, love, so badly.  I … I killed Giles' mate, I threatened you and your friends… your mother.  I was – God, Buffy – when I got my soul back, I just… I –"

As he lapsed into silence, Buffy struggled to take in what he'd said.  He'd turned into a being like the former Tar.  A shiver ran up her spine remembering what the Tar was like – how cruel he was, how he'd taken so much pleasure in harming her, hurting her… destroying her.  His maniacal laughter….

Angel's maniacal laughter when he confronted the Pava.  God, she remembered that.  She'd been terrified.

"Buffy–"

"What does this mean, Angel?  What does this mean for us?  When we go back… what's going to happen… how do we make sure you're safe?"

He studied her for a moment, frowning, and then stood, avoided her eyes, and began to pace.  "We– well, things would be different.  We couldn't spend a lot of time together, especially not alone.  We'd have to be very careful.  We'd - Buffy, we won't be couple when we get back there.  You – you'll have to make your own life.  I'll always be in the shadows, Buffy, I'll always protect you.  But our relationship, the life we have here would be – will be – done."

"No!" she gasped, doubling over and beginning to rock herself, struggling not to cry, and failing - sobbing as he knelt beside her and grabbed her and forced her to look at him. 

"I *love* you, Buffy.  I will always love you.  Never forget that.  You can – if you want to move on – date someone else – mate with someone else, I will still love you and protect you.  But you deserve a full life and I won't stop that."

"I deserve *you*, Angel.  I want you.  I love you.  I don't know if I can live without you.  I don't know… I don't *want* to…." She trailed off as she began to cry in earnest.

"I'm so sorry, Buffy, so sorry," he said, pulling her against him and rocking her gently.  "We– I promised him we'd go back and… we have to go back.  Your mother is incredibly worried.  And the Hellmouth… Sunnydale's on a Hellmouth and it's being guarded by four high school students and a Watcher.  All humans.  The Slayer… you are the Slayer, Buffy.  You are the guardian of the Hellmouth.  The Hellmouth needs you.  It needs *us*."

She stared up at him for a long moment, tears streaming down her face.  He was clearly devastated too… and seemed needlessly - in her opinion - guilty.  She forced herself to steel her resolve and not to add to his pain.  Anger flooded her as she swiped her eyes with the back of her hands.  She'd just gotten him back… just gotten her life back.  But she understood… she knew deep down he was right.  She felt a strong sense of duty– coming from who knew where.  She was *the* Slayer.  Her mother, her friends, her Watcher… despite the fact that she couldn't remember them, they'd loved her once and she had an obligation to protect them.  She had no choice.

"Let's do it," she said sternly, standing and storming back towards the Castle.

***

Angel held an old book with a horned beast on the cover in his left hand, his right hand tightly gripping Buffy's.  She hadn't spoken much since the picnic, spending a lot of time alone in the garden with her journal.  She said she was trying to come to terms with things.  Her absence left Angel more than ample time to think.  No risk of losing the soul to happiness here, he thought bitterly.

She stood patiently beside him in her best blue robe, a small pack containing her clothing, journal and some trinkets slung over her shoulder.

As soon as he said the words they'd be back in LA. 

He couldn't bring himself to do it. 

"Angel…," she said, looking up to him sadly.  "Before we go…. Kiss me."

He groaned softly and, pulling her close, kissed her with a punishing force.  He wanted her to remember… he didn't want her to ever forget or doubt his love for her.

He was terrified.

When he pulled away, she nodded at him, stubbornly committed to their fate.  After a final, firm kiss to her forehead, he gripped her hand tighter, squeezing so hard that it hurt, and began:

"Prkta nah ta'ehk funul prktoi ya a'she orq na tak…."

***

Part 9

The room was filled with demons.  Her skin prickled all over and she instinctively backed into Angel, seeking his protection.  A green demon approached with a broad smile on his face.

Oh, God, it was happening again.  It was the Pava all over again!

"Angel, sweetie, is this your little Slayer?  I can see why the beaucoup fuss.  I'm Lorne, dollface.  Pleased to finally meet you."

Buffy stared at his extended hand and decided after a moment to shake it, pulling away as quickly as she could.

"No worries, Slayer.  I'm the man that helped Sugar here find you.  You must be anxious to go home, right, honey?  Let's take you upstairs and get you both dressed in something more... American, and then you two can skedaddle." 

Buffy leaned further back into Angel and looked over her shoulder in horror as he pushed himself away from her, putting some distance between them.   

"Buffy, Lorne's right.  Let's go get changed.  Draw less attention that way. Lorne, is my car still parked out back?"

***

They'd ridden for several hours in a "car."  It was interesting… or would have been were she not completely terrified.  Nothing looked familiar.  Nothing.

She stood with Angel, incredibly embarrassed by how she looked – the clothing was so strange there, so revealing - in front of a two story home.  Giles, her Watcher, apparently lived there.  Angel said they'd see her mother the next day.  She was relieved.  She didn't know what to expect from any of these people but somehow she knew that seeing her mother would be emotionally charged and she was feeling pretty fragile at the moment.  She did her best to keep these feelings hidden.  Angel was clearly nervous, stood beside her tugging at his beard.  For his sake, she'd make this as easy as possible for him.

Grasping his hand, she took the initiative and rapped quietly on the door.  She could hear voices from within; her heart sank realizing that Giles wasn't alone.  Angel said it was late at night Earth-time – clearly Giles kept late hours.  She guessed Watching did that to a person.

"Hel-  Oh my God, Buffy!  Oh my God, Giles, it's Buffy!" A redheaded girl flung herself out the door and grabbed Buffy in a tight hug. 

She couldn't breathe.  Please, God, get her off me.  Get her off me, PLEASE!

She pulled the girl off her and stepped back, practically gluing herself to Angel.  The redhead looked sort of confused.  Buffy realized that a small group had gathered just inside the door, all staring at Buffy, unmoving… in disbelief.

After a moment, they rushed towards her. 

"Naw! Naw! Don' tatch me! Naw! Naw! Engel! Plihz! Naw!" Buffy screamed.

The group stilled immediately and looked at her - shocked.

"What's your deal…. What happened to your English?" A dark-haired girl said, condescendingly.

"Cordelia!"

Buffy stood silently, clutching Angel's hand, trying to figure out an answer.  Hi, strange thing, I don't remember anything.   And how did that happen, you ask?   God, what could she say?

"Uh, Giles.  Can we…?" Angel said, gesturing toward the house.

No one responded to him.  They just stared and stared.  She hadn't felt this uncomfortable in months.

"Engel?" she whispered, leaning into him but keeping her eyes firmly on the group.  "Engel, tn'ak dri shel…."

Angel wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close but ignored her request to leave.  God, couldn't they leave?!

"Engel–"

"Yes! Forgive me…. Angel, Buffy… it is good to see you.  Yes, yes…. Won't you both come in?" an older man – presumably Giles - stammered. 

The subdued group turned and re-entered Giles' home with Angel and Buffy following slowly behind.  Keeping an eye on the group, memorizing their positions in the room, Buffy glanced surreptitiously around.  It wasn't entirely unfamiliar but really that could have been because it looked just like their apartments in the Tar.  Giles had a lot of books, like the ones Angel had. Was this an Earth thing?

"Nice hair, Dead –"

"Angel…," the older man interrupted, with a glare at the younger.  He approached them, stopping when Buffy shrank back.  "Erm, yes, well.  Buffy, we were so worried.  So worried.  It's good to know you are safe and sound now."  The man removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes.  "I'm just so sorry it took us so long to locate you.  I hope you will forgive me."

The group stared at her.  She was clearly supposed to respond.  "I… um, I'm sawry baht I don' recock-nice you baht …I… um…," she stuttered, trailing off as she began to cry.

"Shh, love," Angel whispered quietly in her ear, pulling her trembling body to him.  "Just give it time, okay?  It's going to take time but it'll be okay.  I promise you." 

She did her best to calm herself and turned back to the group.  They were studying her warily now, like she was an Urirant demon.  The silence was tense. 

"Ah, Giles.  I think… it's been a long day for us.  Would it be possible to continue this in the morning?" Angel asked.

"Yes, of course.  You may take my room – Faith's in the guest room currently – yes, I insist you take my room.  You'll need some privacy."

"Thank–"

"Excuse me?  Hello, has anyone remembered the curse here?  Evil vampire… tries to kill everyone.  You're actually thinking of letting them –"

"We are all *well* aware of the curse, Xander, but thank you for reminding us," Giles spat.  "At the moment, there are more important things we must address.  Children, I'd like to speak with Buffy and Angel alone.  Let's reconvene here after school tomorrow, alright?"

The dark-haired man sighed loudly and then turned and stormed out of the house.  Buffy gave him a wide berth as he walked past them glaring pointedly at both her and Angel.  The two girls both said sad goodbyes and a shorter red-haired man bid her good night with "Good to see you again, Buff."  She had no idea who any of them were!

After the door closed, Giles mumbled something about tea and retreated to the kitchen.  Buffy and Angel settled on the couch, silent, awaiting Giles return.  Buffy clutched Angel's hand desperately – he was her lifeline.  This place was horrible.  They all seemed angry with her.  She wanted to go back to Bethara on the next portal out of there.  She'd even… well, she'd never return to the Pava but she just…. God, she was so uncomfortable and why did those people hate her?  Why did they hate Angel? 

"Buffy… it is indeed good to have you back," Giles said with a gentle smile, as he returned to the room, carrying a tray of tea.  She reluctantly accepted a cup, sniffed it and took a sip before setting it back on the tray.  "I shall have to call Lorne tomorrow and thank him from the bottom of my heart.  I – we – we were so worried when you went missing.  I just –"

The man's eyes widened as Buffy nervously fingered her neck… Angel's mark.  Clearing his throat, he removed a cloth from his pants' pocket and wiped at his eyes for a minute.

"Forgive me," he said, sinking onto a chair opposite them and smiling nervously at her.

She wanted to say she was happy to be back, she knew she should, but it was such a huge lie, she just couldn't bring herself to.  She was exhausted and just wanted to curl up and sleep for a million years in Angel's strong arms, protected and safe from the outside world.

"Giles, uh, thank you for the tea.  We… well, when Buffy and I talked about coming back, we decided there were some things you needed to know as her Watcher.  Well, first, um, about the mating.  As you know – "

"Yes, Angel.   We knew from Lorne it might be the only way."

Buffy watched the exchange.  Was the mating bad? 

"Yeah," Angel said quietly, staring down at his and Buffy's joined hands for a moment.  "It was.  Listen, Giles, Buffy will tell you more about Bethara when she's ready but for now, there are things… well, we decided you and her mother, at a minimum, should know and Buffy asked me to relay them as she still finds English difficult." 

Giles cocked his head and frowned, confused.  "Go on." 

Buffy stared at the floor, nervous at listening to Angel practically babble.  Holding his hand, she rested her head on his shoulder and let her eyes close as he told a watered down story of her life in the Pava.

*** 

She awakened in a dark room.  Angel sat on the edge of the bed stroking her hair away from her face.  From the light in the hallway, she could see his expression.  He was sad. 

"Angel?  What's going on?  Come to bed, baby, okay?" she groggily slurred, in Betharan, a seductive smile on her face as she reached out to pull him in.

He grabbed her hands stopping their path.  "No, love.  I… I need to go.  To my home… the mansion I told you about.  It's not safe here… for us, I mean.  You'll be safe here with Giles… he'd never hurt you but us… the curse….  It's just not safe.  I'm sorry, Buffy."

Suddenly, fully awake, she blinked back her tears as quickly as she could, determined he wouldn't feel badly for leaving her.  That was the deal, he'd said.  They were friends now.  She'd known it was coming but now that it was happening, she felt nauseous.

"Right.  Okay.  When… Will I see you in the morning?  When will I see you?" she said not meeting his eyes, fighting an overwhelming desire to hold his hand so tightly he couldn't escape. 

Smelling the salty scent of her unshed tears, Angel leaned down and kissed her forehead.  "Tomorrow, after dark.  You will be okay, Buffy.  Giles and I spoke… he knows what's going on, understands that you don't know him, that basically you are being thrown into a new world.  He's a good man, Buffy.  He'll take care of you and you'll see me before you know it."

Buffy gave up the fight and, starting to cry, grabbed his hand, panicked.  "How can I sleep without you?  I… I'm sorry, Angel, but I don't know if I can do this.  I…"

He lay down next to her and, knowing he shouldn't, pulled her onto his chest.  He kissed the crown of her head and stroked her hair slowly.  "How about I stay until you fall asleep?"

She nodded, sniffling, and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly.  He rubbed her back slowly, humming an off-key lullaby, grateful when her heart finally slowed and she calmed down enough to begin drifting back to sleep.

"Angel… your heart," she whispered, dreamily.  "It's so quiet…."

He swallowed and took a deep breath.  "Yeah," he whispered.

She sighed and settled in on his chest, a slight smile on her face.  "Love you…."

As she finally drifted off, Angel gave in, pulled her close and cried.

*** 

She was surrounded in a soft cloud.  A crisp scent assaulted her, a scent she recognized from long ago.  Rolling over, she realized it was her pillow.  The pillow smelled like soap… that was it.  She gradually became aware… she was lying in a pool of sunlight… alone.

It took only a few seconds to realize that of course she was alone. Angel had left, gone to his Earth home, but she'd see him soon.  He'd promised he'd see her after dark.  Craning her head out the window to check the position of the suns, she was saddened to see it was early in the day and then shocked when she realized this world had only one sun.  Somewhere in her mind, she remembered that she knew that… but to see it....  Very strange.

Buffy took a moment to explore the room.  The door was locked; Angel must have gone out the window.  She was greatly touched that he'd made sure she'd feel her safest, made sure she'd feel protected from the outside world and its intruders.  Giles' sleeping chamber was similar to the living area… old books, some smoking pipes, lots of writing on paper and some old paintings.  Again, his things reminded her of Angel.  She only hoped he treated her as well. 

Hearing activity down the stairs and spying her pack in the corner of the room, Buffy ignored her skimpy Earth clothes lying on Giles' desk chair (Angel must have undressed her when putting her to bed, she realized with a smile) and retrieved her brown robe and pulled it over her head.  Using the small washroom off Giles' chamber, she threw some water on her face and steeled herself for meeting people without Angel at her side.  Despite his assurances, these people were scary.  They seemed to want to touch her and that was NOT okay and they also looked at her funny when she spoke.  She knew she had an accent but Angel said she was understandable – wasn't that good enough?  She'd been gone more than she'd ever been on Earth.  She hoped things would go more smoothly that day than the night before with their run in with the dark-haired man. 

She slowed as she descended the stairs, her eyes taking in a new dark-haired girl, who was sitting on a stool at a ledge outside Giles' kitchen, eating a bowl of brown pebble-like food in a white broth. 

"Hey!  You must be Buffy.  I'm Faith." The girl approached Buffy, her hand extended.  Buffy stared at it debating what to do.

"Okay, no handshaking.  That's cool.  Uh, Giles had to run and drop something off at the school.  He should be back in a few minutes now.  Want some breakfast?"

Buffy surreptitiously glanced around the room.  They were alone.  Realizing she was starved, she nodded, answering Faith's offer of food.

"We got Cocoa Puffs and Whetabix.  What'll you have?"

"Uh… What you hafing?"

Faith looked at her strangely for a moment and then shrugged.  "Cocoa Puffs, natch.  Whetabix is some nasty sawdust thing.  Totally British.  Trust me, Cocoa Puffs is the way to go."

Buffy nodded and Faith poured some of the boxed grain into a bowl clearly set out for Buffy and passed her the broth.  It was cold.  Interesting.  Buffy poured the soup over the grain to make it look like Faith's and took a bite.  It was *good*.  She smiled at Faith.

"So, B.  Is it good to be back?  Where were you anyway?  Giles said the Watchers had kidnapped you.  Scary shit.  I've been watching my back ever since he told me that.  The guys have been helping out too, making sure everything's cool when I'm out slaying."

Buffy's brow furrowed.  "You Slayer?"

Faith chuckled.  "Yeah.  I'm a Slayer too.  Surprised you, right? See, one day about six months ago, I'm hanging out on our stoop in Boston – where I'm from – and this lady shows up and says, 'Faith, you notice you got some new strength in the past few months?' and I said 'Oh, yeah.'  See, B, there was this guy and he got a little rough with me and it was wicked cool when I pushed him off me and he totally flew three feet through the air.  Giles said I must have been called when Kendra – the Jamaican Slayer – died, but the Watchers didn't come get me right away.  When my Watcher showed up, we trained for a while in Boston and then, after you disappeared, I was relocated to Sunnydale to work with Giles.  Needed a Slayer to guard the Hellmouth, so here I am.  Keeping the bed warm for you, so to speak.  Now there's the two of us, we will wipe this town *clean* of all the demons, right?  It'll be sweet… the two of us on the hunt, taking care of business.  The others – they're cool – but they're not Slayers, right?"

Buffy took a moment to process what Faith had said.  She was a Slayer too? Assigned to guard the Hellmouth?  Wow. 

"So, B, we gonna be buds or nemesi or something?  'Cause I'd like to go the buds route myself. What are you thinking?"

"You Slayer too?  End we friends?"

Faith smirked.  "Yes, Buffy.  We can be friends," she said slowly.  Buffy suspected she was being teased.  Faith rolled her eyes, jumped off the stool and hurdled herself onto the couch, grabbing a small plastic device and pointing it at what Buffy suspected was a "television."  Angel'd described it:  Moving pictures in a box… this seemed familiar for sure. 

"Come on, B.  Let's bond over the tube."

Buffy abandoned her breakfast and walked, fascinated, to the chair beside the couch and, after grinning at Faith, stared enraptured at the screen.

***

Giles was staring at her.  They both were.  She could tell they didn't want her to know, but they were indeed staring.  When Giles had arrived back, Buffy had casually moved her chair so her back was to the wall and she could keep an eye on them both.  And despite tea making and Faith having a second bowl of 'Cocoa Puffs' on the couch, there was definite staring going on.

"So, erm, Buffy.  Is there anything you'd like to do today?"

"Yeah, B.  You just got back and I'm assuming all you got are those clothes you got on.  As attractive as they are, we should probably get you something more Californian.  We could do some damage on Giles' credit card, right?" She smiled broadly at him.

"Um, yes, well –"

"I want see Engel.  Plihz.  Can wih go see Engel?"

Giles studied her for a moment.  "He's likely asleep… but, uh, if you'd like to see him, we can go over for a little while.  Your friends… the others… will be here at 3:00 o'clock - in about three hours - so we'll only have time for a short visit.

"Yes!  Dat's good.  Wih go now?"  Buffy asked, trying not to show her excitement and failing abysmally.

"Well, yes," Giles said, frowning.  "Um, let me just get my car keys."

***

She felt guilty – for sure – for waking Angel up.  She knew that on Earth he'd sleep when it was light and wake when it was dark – the opposite of home.  But she didn't care.  It was weird here.  She just wanted to go home and, barring that, she wanted to be "with" home – Angel. 

When Angel opened the door, Buffy almost inadvertently knocked him over as she rushed in to hug him.  She kept forgetting she was stronger now.  Her eyes narrowed when she noticed Faith regarding Angel much the way the Pava used to eye *her*.  Faith wanted him.  She didn't like that but, given how Angel was holding her, she knew he had eyes only for Buffy.  Still, she felt she'd do well to keep an eye on Faith when it came to Angel. 

When Giles cleared his throat, she pulled gently away from Angel, taking a moment to study his living area.  It was *huge*… lots of stone like the Tar.  She could be happy living there. 

If only she could. 

Keeping an arm firmly attached to Buffy, Angel stared down at her, and brushed her hair back from her face, saying, "This is a pleasant surprise.  Is everything okay?"

"Uh, well…."  Buffy began sheepishly, feeling guilty for not being stronger in dealing with her fears.

"Yes, well, we thought we'd pay a visit.  See how you were settling in," Giles said.  Buffy was touched that he was covering for her.  She could like this man.

"Oh.  Uh, thank you.  I'm settling in fine.  Is everything else okay?"

"Wow, B," Faith leaned in and conspiratorially whispered in Buffy's ear.  "I can see why you missed him.  He's a serious stud muffin."

Angel looked at Faith, startled, as if noticing the girl for the first time.  "I don't understand –" he said, his voice full of suspicion.  His eyes narrowed as he concentrated on her.  "You're.… She's a Slayer, Giles.  How is that possible?"

"Yes, well, as it turns out another Slayer was called when Kendra died.  Angel, this is Faith.  Faith was sent by the Council after Buffy was, uh –"

"And this didn't seem important to mention last night?"  Angel asked, exasperated.

"In all honestly, given all that you told me, it … well, it slipped my mind.  Your story of Bethara… to be truthful, I was overwhelmed by it."

Buffy wanted to disappear into the floor.  She knew Angel'd talked to Giles about her memory loss and as a result would have had to share certain details of her Penance to explain it.  But the reality of Giles' knowing those details made her just feel… well, she felt dirty. 

Angel nodded, acknowledging Giles and then invited them all in to sit down.  Keeping a small distance between himself and Buffy, he held her hand and after a moment tried and failed to make small talk, asking Faith about her village of origin and asking how the slaying was going.  Clearly comfortable with the spotlight, Faith was in the middle of a very detailed account of her slaying of a vampire/sorcerer named Artemis Blake, when she was interrupted by a loud insistent banging on the front door to Angel's home. 

"Angel!  Angel, God damn you.  Open this door!" 

Angel's eyes widened and his gaze snapped to Giles, who sat there looking mystified, shaking his head "No".  Angel released Buffy's hand and stood quickly yet didn't move towards the door.

"Angel!  Open this God damned door before I break it down!"

"Uh, I'll handle this if it's alright with you," said Giles, rising slowly and heading towards the door.

"Angel, what is it?" Buffy asked in Betharan.

He looked down at her just as Giles reached the door and a woman plunged in.

"It's your mother," he whispered.

***

Part 10

Joyce burst through the door, immediately searching for, locating and then running toward Buffy.  Afraid that Buffy would react by lashing out physically – and knowing that she had no idea of her strength here on Earth – Angel leapt in between them, shielding Buffy from Joyce's onslaught. 

"Get the *hell* out of my way!" Joyce raged.

"Mrs. Summers, please.  Wait!"

"Wait?  Is that the idea – you two keeping me away from my daughter? And *you*," she spat, turning to Giles. "You are a part of this… this brainwashing?"

"Brainwash–"

"What did you do to her?" The woman raged at Angel, as Buffy moved farther and farther out of the room, clearly terrified.  "What did you do to my daughter?"

"Mrs. Summers….  Please, I didn't –"

"Joyce… please calm down.  You are frightening, Buffy –" Giles implored.

"*Frightening* her!  She's my *daughter*.  How long have you been back?  If it hadn't been for Xander, was I *ever* going to know?  She's *my* daughter, not yours.  I have been worried sick.  And *you*," she bit out, staring at Angel as if to kill him with a look. "You can't be with her.  You were supposed to bring her home and then leave.  Haven't you already caused enough damage?"

"Nay, nay, nay, nay, *nay*, NAY!" Buffy released a wailing scream and ran up the stairs. 

"Buffy!" Joyce called out and moved toward the stairs only to be blocked by Angel.  "Get out of my way!"

"Sit down," Angel bit out.

"Don't you tell me –"

"I said, SIT DOWN.  Now," Angel shouted.  Joyce, clearly afraid, fell onto the couch.  He turned his back to her.  "Faith - Garden's that way.  Take it outside."

"Hey, wait a minute, Buddy –"

"Faith, please.  Just do as he asks," Giles sighed. With an audible huff, Faith stormed out of the room.

"Now.  *Joyce*," Angel hissed, glaring down at her, "you are going to listen to me and stay quiet.  Is that understood?"

Joyce flounced back onto the couch and crossed her arms, looking so similar to Buffy that for a moment Angel lost his mental footing.  He quickly recovered though, remembering Buffy's terror and knowing that, even if Buffy didn't remember this woman, she held a lot of power and he was going to make sure she didn't abuse it with her still-healing daughter.

"Alright then, now that we're clear," he said, dropping himself to sit on the coffee table in front of Joyce's seat.  "Joyce, there are some things you need to know and you need to pay *careful* attention.  I know you love your daughter, and I know you're upset but… please Joyce," Angel said, his voice softening.  "Please, just listen and don't interrupt."

She looked up, her eyes now frightened, and after a moment, nodded.  "Tell me."

*** 

"So she doesn't remember *anything*?  Are you sure?  Maybe there's some brain trauma... you said she'd been… hurt.  Maybe with the right treatment–"

Her brother Mark was a surgeon at L.A. Medical Center – surely he had access to some of the best neurosurgeons out there....

"Joyce… it's the nature of what… of what was done.  She… it's not like she was in an accident.  It was magic – ancient magic – that healed her and took away her memories.  She… the people that hurt… it's just part of what happened.  To her, Earth is a place of legend, not a place she's ever lived.  They… suffice it to say the memory loss isn't reversible.  You'll need to just build a new relationship with Buffy… and with the Buffy that she is now."

Joyce frowned.  "How much *does* she remember?" 

She couldn't wrap her head around this.  *Magic* did this?  And who would want to hurt her daughter?  And what did Angel know anyway?  Medicine had changed a lot since the time he was human.  He likely wouldn't know of many of the newest techniques.  They'd learned so much more about how the brain worked even in the last twenty years. 

"Joyce… she….  When Angel found her, she could no longer speak English.  He spent some time re-teaching her the basics but you'll hear… she has a strong accent and at times her syntax is confusing.  She's also… well, she's much more modest than she used to be… she's…. You must understand that time moves differently in the Betharan dimension – where her kidnappers took her – and for her it's been over twenty-three *years* time since she left Earth.  Given the, erm, trauma she endured, I'm impressed that she survived it emotionally, at all.  I'm sorry, Joyce, I'm not a parent – and I can't imagine what these past few weeks have been for you – not knowing – but to her, it's been quite a bit longer and we must…. I encourage you to be patient with her.  I offer you any assistance I am able to give –"

"And you?" Joyce asked Angel.  "It's not–  Look Angel, I know you care about Buffy, I do.  But your situation…. Even if the curse weren't an issue, she's a young–  She deserves a full life, with someone who is, well, human, who can give her a normal life.  I appreciate your work to get her back – you have no idea how much and how grateful I will always be to you – but Buffy… she, quite frankly – and I'm sorry to be hurtful - deserves more.  And now, now that Faith is here, Buffy can rest and recover and have all those things.  And I feel strongly that if she's had as hard a time as you say, she shouldn't slay anymore.  I feel certain of that.  Look, the kids came over for dinner one night – this Faith seems to love slaying.  And her personality is so much better suited to it – I'm sure she's a natural.  It's clear to me that Buffy needs a new outlook: rest, some medical treatment, time with her friends and no slaying. Given time, she can move on and embrace this new chapter in her life… go to college – have a normal, healthy, happy *human* life –"

"With all due respect, Joyce, if Angel – well, I believe if Angel were to leave at this time, it could cause irreparable damage to her.  She's – Joyce, I'm as aware of the curse and the damage a break can cause – probably more aware of it than *anyone* – I… I'm sorry Angel, I didn't –"

"It's alright," Angel said sadly.  "Go on."

"Yes, well, I… I just believe that this isn't a case of 'a boyfriend being selfish or manipulative of a situation so they can stay together.'  She's…. He's all she's *known*, Joyce.  Her life before the rescue… I'll leave it to Buffy to give you the details, but suffice it to say, it was, well, horrible is putting it mildly.  I just – I encourage you to keep an open mind and follow Buffy's cues.  She may well grow up to be a 'normal girl' as you put it but… well, she's a different person now, as Angel says… and also, before you get your hopes up, Buffy may find that she *needs* to slay.  As the Slayer, she has more energy then the average human and has certain instincts –"

"With all due respect, Rupert, she's *my* daughter.  My daughter who was *kidnapped* by the people *you* work for.  So forgive me if –"

"Buffy?"

Angel's quiet voice stunned Joyce to silence and turning around, she saw Buffy reluctantly coming down the stairs again.  Fully facing her daughter, calmer than before, she was shocked to see that Buffy did indeed look completely different than she had before.  Her hair was almost to her waist and a dark dirty blonde.  She wore a shapeless dirt brown dress – more a robe, really – and Native American-type calfskin boots that laced up to her knees.  She was thinner than before and seemed incredibly shy.  Her normally vibrant daughter looked like she'd disappear if she could.  In a heartbeat.

Taking a deep breath and fighting back tears, Joyce decided to take Angel and Giles' words to heart and approach her slowly, stopping after several steps when she noticed Buffy backing away to the stairs again.  Fearing Buffy would run, she decided to forego the hug she wanted desperately and just talk to her from eight feet away. 

"Buffy, it's Mommy.  Do you remember me?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed with suspicion and she ignored Joyce, addressing Angel in a guttural tongue unlike any language Joyce had ever heard.

"Trgh th'aht dri, Engel?"

"No, Buffy," Angel said, staring pointedly into Joyce's eyes as he responded.  "I'm not leaving you.  I promise you that."

Joyce wanted to throttle him.  How dare he get in the way of Buffy's life?  *Again*?  Well, they'd cross that bridge soon enough.  Angel was in denial and once Buffy was better they could revisit her human/Slayer existence.  And his misplaced desire to spend his life with her.

"Buffy, this is Joyce, your Mother.  You used to call her 'Mom'.  Joyce, this is Buffy."  Angel was still looking deeply into Joyce's eyes but instead of a challenge, he seemed to be enlisting her sympathy… asking her silently to go along with Buffy's limited memory and speak to Buffy on her level.

"Hallo, Joyce," Buffy said, with a slight bow.

Joyce did her best to not show her discomfort but knew she was so shocked at the change, she was probably failing miserably. 

"It's so good to see you again, honey.  I've missed you so much.  You don't remember me," Joyce broke off, failing now to hold back her tears, "but I remember you and I love you and I've *missed* you.  Please try to trust me when I say these things, okay, honey?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed as if evaluating the risk of trusting her own mother but then gave a slight nod. 

"Buffy, I'm glad you came downstairs again.  I think it would be a good idea to discuss living arrangements, school and so on.  Why don't we sit down?" Giles suggested.

Joyce was moved that Buffy kept looking at her until it occurred to her that Buffy was watching her as if to evaluate the risk of an attack.  Her stomach turned when she thought about how she had entered Angel's home, at how her actions must have appeared to Buffy.

After watching Buffy and Angel take the one couch, Buffy holding onto his hand "for dear life", Joyce sat opposite them with Giles.  Not able to stop herself, she asked, as lightly as possible (and fully aware that she was failing abysmally), "So, Buffy, I take it you stayed here last night?"

Angel frowned but nodded to Buffy, as if giving her permission to speak.  Joyce didn't like that.

"Nay – naw.  Engel set … it wahzn't … seff to … steh ….wit' heem on Eart'.  Mistah Giles … hih let me steh … wit heem."

Joyce was stunned to silence.  She didn't know what to say.  She… she couldn't speak English. They'd said … but she hadn't grasped how bad it was.  Looking up, she could see Angel smiling encouragingly at Buffy.  Encouraging her *speech*.  Oh dear God.

Joyce was suddenly hyperaware of her surroundings.  Angel had a clock nearby.  It was loud and sort of uneven.  The tick was definitely louder than the tock.  It was funny; she had a clock that did the same thing at the gallery.  Did all clocks do that?  She'd left the gallery unattended – locked – but she'd flown out of there so quickly. And where was Xander?  She'd thought he'd follow –

At Giles' tactful cough, she realized they were all waiting for her to say something more and she'd just completely zoned out.  This was….  Okay, Joy.  Just need to say calm.  Focus on the task at hand.  

"Well, Buffy… I'd like it… I… What would you think about staying with me?  I'd like it very much if you came home and stayed with me," Joyce said with what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

Buffy looked startled and Joyce's heart broke watching her look at Angel… looking like she was pleading with him to save her. 

"I… I don' know.  I…, Engel, dri na'tak brit shel – "  Buffy began to cry. 

Joyce felt immediately uncomfortable – badly for how she had treated Angel yet angry that he'd put her in an impossible situation.  Angel wrapped Buffy in his arms and held her tightly.  She could hear snatches of his whisperings to her: "… be okay, Buffy… visit… try… alone, okay?"  After a few moments, Buffy pulled back a little and retook his hand in hers, staring down at them, mesmerized.

Suddenly, Buffy looked up and pierced Joyce's gaze.  "I weel go wit' you, Joyce.  I weel try. Baht… I weel nawt stop slayink.  I hard you from de stars – *stehrs* – I am duh Slayer.  Wih kem back to Eart' so I could slay – to guard duh Hellmout'.  I suppose to help guard duh Hellmout'... wit' Engel… wit' Fait'."

Buffy was coming home – coming *home* with her.  They'd deal with the slaying issue later but for now….

"I'm happy you'll come with me.  Thank you. Shall we?"  Joyce said, holding out her hand and dropping it once she saw the look of cold hard determination in her daughter's face.

"Yes.  Wih go."  Without another word, Joyce followed her soldier like little girl out of the house and to the car.

*** 

"No, no way.  Have you looked at her?  She's incredibly thin.  She needs *rest*.  For the last time, no.  End of discussion."

"Mrs. Summers –"

"Angel, I will tell her you came by but … I'd feel better if she had some time away from you – or rather, some time just the two of us.  She needs to adjust back to her life here and she can't do that with –"

"You can't keep me from seeing her.  I'm sorry, Mrs. Summers - if you think that this is about my own selfish agenda, it isn't.  This is about Buffy and if you won't let me see her, I will –"

"Don't you threaten me, young man!  I am her mother and she is sick and needs to recover.  You can come back… give her a few days.  Come back on Sunday and if she wants to see you then, then I'll allow it, but for now, she is resting in bed and will see no one.   Goodbye, Angel."

Angel's mouth dropped open as the Summers' front door slammed in his face.  Was she out of her mind?  And she thought *he* was selfish?  Taking a deep breath, struggling, he realized, to keep his demon face from coming to the fore, he rested his head against the door.  She was so close.  Joyce was right – a break for a day or two *would* be good because he wanted her, physically - so badly it hurt.  Yes, his reasons for wanting to see her weren't entirely noble.  That said, they weren't as un-noble as Joyce suspected.

But the "not entirely noble" portion worried him when he allowed himself to think about it.  He wanted to sink into her warmth – he wanted to hear her moan next to his ear, feel her body, her breath, her hands, her mouth.  God, he was hard as a rock just thinking about her.  And so frustrated.  He'd been spoiled in Bethara, he knew that.  There, he had her in his bed it was true, but also he had her all to himself.  It was a luxury and again, he was bitterly reminded that the curse was a *curse*.  Here was evidence if ever there were any.

Allowing himself to "breathe her in" one last time, he turned and began to walk away purposely from the house – gonna go find something to *kill*-  stopping in his tracks when he heard some very human rustling from the bushes behind him.  Turning around, he was unable to stop a broad smile from his face.

"Not very stealthy of you, love," he teased, wrapping her in his arms and holding her tight.  Kissing her forehead, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.  "How much of that did you hear?"

"All of it," she said, reverting to her "native" tongue.  "I had a feeling, a sense... it was like I knew you were coming – strange, right? – and I also had a feeling – but this was more of a mental thing – that Joyce was not going to let me out of that house.  She's been… she won't leave me alone, Angel.  She's constantly checking on me.  Finally, I… well, I told her I wanted to sleep and that I could only sleep with the door locked.  I'm sorry, I know you want me to try but it is the truth… I don't want to sleep without a lock, it's… I just don't feel safe - I'm sorry - I know -"

"Shh… it's okay," he replied, holding her again. And knowing it was bad – very bad - to encourage this thing between them but unable to stop himself – God, he missed her – he flirted: "So you think she's onto us?"

"Onto us?"

"She'll figure it out – where you are – I mean."

"Oh, no.  I don't think she will be 'on us', as you say.  Angel… even if you hadn't come, I needed to….  Since it became night, I have had this weird feeling.  I heard Giles before – when he was talking about instincts and the instinct to slay–  I think… I think I'm feeling that.  It's weird.  It's like I have this energy and I need to run – a LOT – or something.  Or," she said, seductively, running her index finger down along his collarbone and toward the center of his chest, "burn it off in some other–   Oh, God, I'm sorry!  I'm sorry.  Angel, I'm sorry."

He knew it was innocent.  But God, it was painful when she did that.  Her voice was so… erotic.  This was an adjustment for both of them, right?

"I could kill something demonic," he stated lightly, hoping after-the-fact that she wouldn't make the sex talk equals urge to kill connection.  "Shall we?" he said, with a slight smile, holding out his hand to her.

She smiled a glowing smile and they began to walk towards the nearest cemetery. 

*** 

'Well, this place is dead' – a statement he'd made innocently and ultimately gladly when Buffy began to laugh so hard she ended up sitting on the ground in Sunnyrest, unable to catch her breath.  He couldn't remember having seen her laugh that hard in so long… *so* long.  Certainly not since they'd been reunited.

In a way, the dead state of Sunnyrest was a good thing because, having just gotten back, she hadn't really had any opportunities to fight with all of her strength.  He knew adjustments would have to be made to the techniques he'd taught her on Bethara.  She had no clue how much power she had.  Quite frankly he'd forgotten the extent of it himself.

When he landed flat on his back for the first time, it all came back to him.  Fighting Buffy hurt.

"I'm sorry – I'm so sorry!  Are you okay?" she said, horrified, quickly reaching down and pulling him to standing.

"I'm fine.  This is good.  Really good," he said, struggling to hide his pain.  "Watch your right shoulder, you're dropping it a bit.  Let's try again."

Concentrating much harder than in the weeks before – he was sure if he were still in his more human state as on Bethara, he'd be drenched with sweat – he rushed her again, this time feinting to his right before sweeping up behind her.  Unbelievably, she caught the move.  Either he was getting tired – which was possible – or she was even better than she'd been before she'd left.  But that was so long ago.

Using all of his concentration, he managed to gain the upper hand, only to be thrown through the air from behind, pinned to the ground and narrowly not-staked when Faith pulled her "punch" at the last second.

"Geez, Angel.  I'm sorry.  I just saw B getting the shit beat out of her, and ran in to the rescue," Faith shrugged, grinding her groin into his as she stood up.  Was that intentional?  What was going on here?

"B, you okay?  Looks like you're a bit out of practice," Faith patronized.  "Maybe you should see Giles for some training.  He'll fix you up right."

Angel mentally cringed when he got a look at Buffy's face.  Buffy'd clearly seen the bump-and-grind move and if looks could kill, Faith would have been ash long before scattered to the wind.

"I okay.  Engel?  You okay?" Buffy asked, tense.

"Yeah.  But that was a little close for comfort."  Angel frowned, pulling Buffy into his chest from behind and holding her close… kissing her neck.  Two could play Faith's game.  He wanted the flirting done, now.  The last thing they needed was more trouble.

*** 

"Where the *Hell* have you been?"

Buffy froze as she climbed into her bedroom window, locking eyes with her mother who was seated in the dark on Buffy's bed.  She was clearly furious.

"I –"

"Save it!  You lied to me!  You said you needed privacy and I respected that despite the fact that I don't want to let you out of my sight… and this is the thanks I get?  I forbid you to go out again.  If I need to lock you in here myself, you are NOT going outside again at night.  I don't care about what Mr. Giles said.  It's not safe.  I just got you back – what if they kidnap you again?"

"Naw, naw.  Dey kent tek me again.  Engel said…. Hee weel –"

"Protect you?  Save you?" Joyce snorted.  "Well, he didn't do such a bang up job last time.  How's this any different?  You will NOT see him again.  If I have to lock you in here for good, you will not see him again!  Are we clear?  He's a bad influence and I'll not –"

"Plihz, Joyce!  Plihz!  I nihd heem.  Plihz, Joyce.  I nihd heem."

"He's exactly what you *don't* need.  He will get you killed.  He's a *demon*, Buffy.  He hurt you.  You don't remember it but he hurt you, greatly.  You are not to see him anymore.  It's time for you to live *your* life, put Bethara behind you and move on.  I have every intention of making sure you get the life you deserve and trust me, he's not it."

Buffy stared in disbelief at her mother and then whirled and moved quickly toward the window.

"Where are you going?  Buffy, no!!" Joyce screamed, grabbing Buffy's shoulders and turning her towards her. 

"Naw!  Let me go!!!"  Buffy pulled herself away, inadvertently flinging Joyce into the bed frame.  Joyce collapsed with a groan and lay unmoving on the floor, blood trickling down her cheek. 

Buffy's eyes widened in horror.  "Joyce?" she whispered, kneeling beside her and holding a hand under her nose.  Her mother was breathing but she wasn't sure what to do.  "Joyce? Ah, d'rak tnik! Joyce!! Nay, nay.  D'rak tnik!"

Her mother's eyes opened and she looked up at her.  "Buffy?"

Buffy cowered beside her on the floor, her eyes filled with tears.  "I sorry, I sorry.  Plihz, I sorry.   Plihz don’ hurt me.  I didn' mihn.  Plihz don' hurt –"

"Buffy?  How did I-?  Did you *hit* me, Buffy?" Joyce asked, mystified.

"I didn' mihn.  Plihz.  I sorry.  I jus' … Plihz, I nihd heem.  I wahz a-fred.  I sorry.  I didn' mihn…,"  Buffy sobbed.

"Buffy, honey.  It's okay.  Calm down, I know you didn't mean it.  Okay?  I'm fine.  It was a mistake.  It's okay, sweetie."  Joyce reached out to comfort her daughter.  Buffy scooted back into the corner of the room away from the threat and wrapped her arms around her knees and began to rock herself.

Resigned, Joyce leaned back against Buffy's bed and absently touched her temple.  She was bleeding.  She sat silently, her head throbbing – numbly staring at her blood covered hand - and listened to the inconsolable sobs of her daughter in the corner of her bedroom. 

She was lost.

***

Part 11

"We need to talk," Joyce said, pushing her way past him into his apartment.

"Yes.  Please, do come in," Giles said drolly, looking out onto his patio before he closed the door.  "Where's Buffy?" 

"She's at home.  I needed to speak with you privately.  She thinks I'm out getting lunch, so I don't have long," Joyce said.  Releasing a deep breath, she sat down carefully on his couch and stared down at her folded hands.  "I've made a decision… about Buffy's future."

"Her future?" Giles asked, stunned.  "Already?  Joyce, she's been back for less than two days.  Perhaps, she should–"

"No!  I'm her mother and I'm charged with caring for her.  I've already talked to Hank....  Buffy is….  We're moving back to Los Angeles this afternoon.  I'm between shows at the moment and Amber can handle the new installation…. I- Hank has agreed to let us stay with him until we evaluate her mental state… figure out what to do.  I'm not sure how to explain the accent," Joyce laughed hysterically. "But that's the least of my worries.  Buffy needs quality health care and she needs to be away from–"

"Are you mad?  You can't possibly be serious!  You're going to institutionalize her?"

"Don't you talk to me like that!" Joyce snapped.  "She needs help… *objective* help – people who can care for her and help her get better! She needs one-on-one, *objective*-"

"Joyce, please," Giles continued, desperate, sitting himself across from her and taking her hands.  "*Please*.  I beg you to reconsider.  Think about it.  You take Buffy for help.  You take Buffy to a counselor.  What are they going to talk about?"

Joyce's eyes filled with defeat as she considered his question.  "Vampires," she whispered, tears beginning to flow down her face.  "I don't know what else to do.  She's afraid of me!  She's… she's not my daughter.  Rupert, she's *so* different and she doesn't know me.  She just doesn't know me and I don't know what to do. What do I do, Rupert?  How do I help her?"

Giles placed a comforting hand on her arm.  "Joyce, listen to me.  All you need do…. You take care of her, Joyce.  You let her take the lead while offering compassion and understanding.  She's had… Joyce, her experiences there were quite… horrifying.  I–  Well, it's not my story to tell and I'm sure Buffy will tell you when she is ready but suffice it to say I'm truly amazed she's as mentally healthy as she is.  She's had… well, to say a 'rough trot' would be horribly understating things."

Giles released her arm and leaned back into the couch, retrieving a handkerchief from his pocket and then handing it to her.  For about the fourth time since Buffy's return, he wished desperately for a glass of single malt.  A *large* one.  "She's… it's going to be an adjustment process.  For both of you.  She's… she's a strong girl but you're right.  She's not your daughter… or at least not the daughter you had six weeks ago.  Remember, Joyce.  It's been twenty-three *years* for her… more than half her life.  And Angel....  For the past eight months of it – like it or not, Joyce – Angel has been all she's known.  And, again, like it or not, their return to Earth has meant he's been ripped from her side.   They were a couple there, living as husband and wife, and he… while not perfect… genuinely cares for her and wants what's best for her–"

Joyce snorted.  "If he wants what's best for her, then he shouldn't be still trying to have any kind of relationship with her…."

"See, that's where you are wrong.  Now, don't misunderstand me.  I no more approve of their relationship than you, but I firmly believe he would never knowingly hurt her.  The events of last year… the incredibly… *tragic* events… were no more his fault than my own.  Angel, himself, has never done anything other than support her both emotionally and in her slaying duties.  And, well, if Angel's been coming round, I believe it's likely because as much as he'd like to see her, he knows she *needs* to see him."

"I just-"

"Joyce, he's all she's ever known of this world.  The night they returned, Angel told me what she remembered while she was there… it amounted to little but she did remember him.  She didn't believe it *was* him when they were reunited but she did remember him… not the entirety of their relationship, but who he was and that he cared for her and protected her. 

"I think – well, I think you are going to have to be more accepting of Angel in your lives at least for the time being.  I think, at this point, to expect Buffy to just give him up… well, I think it would be very bad for her – for her state of mind.  This is a major adjustment for her.  If you imagine, as I have been, that she is someone who looks like Buffy but, in fact, is a distant relative who has never been to this part of the world… I think it is easier to understand that her frame of reference… well, she has no frame of reference. 

"It's going to take time," he continued, again, leaning forward and patting her arm.  "Just – give her time.  And I'm always a phone call away if you need another one of those," he said, gesturing to the handkerchief she now twisted in her hands.  "Or, even better, a stiff drink."

Joyce looked at him - shocked - before they both burst into laughter.  Yes, a tough adjustment for all of them.

***

When Joyce returned home, the house was silent.  Panicked, she quickly ran through the house, her breath calming only slightly when she found Buffy sound asleep on her bed.  Looking down at her, in her blue sack of a dress, clutching a weathered leather book close to her heart like a security blanket, it was easy to imagine Buffy as a distant relative who had never been to America before.  If she were Buffy, she'd be terrified.  Particularly if her mother were trying to take away the one thing she knew.

Joyce realized that Rupert was right and that she'd have to, at least for the time being, accept Angel in their lives.  That said, she really didn't like it.  She'd always wanted, like every parent, to give her daughter the world… a good education and healthy upbringing, which would hopefully set her on the path to creating a happy career, marriage and family of her own.  Joyce's heart sank as she realized that even if she were to take Angel out of the equation, the Watchers had very likely taken those opportunities away from Buffy.  Would she ever adjust?  Would she ever be able to have what she deserved?

With a deep sigh, she pulled her mother's afghan over her daughter and quietly closed the door leaving Buffy to her rest.

***

"Hey, Buffy!"  Willow said awkwardly.  "Can I come in?"

Buffy seemed to hesitate but after a moment stepped away from the Summers' front door.  "Okay.  Plihz come een… *ihn*.  Come ihn."

Willow smiled brilliantly.  For the past two weeks, she'd been trying to befriend Buffy again.  She'd been reluctant at first, not wanting to do the wrong thing or to pressure her, but Angel had confidentially insisted that Buffy needed her and if Buffy needed her, then she was there.  She'd been trying to bring things she knew Buffy had liked in the past when she visited.  Some things - like chocolate - were a hit, and others just didn't seem to interest her at all.  'The Princess Bride' seemed to completely bore her, which was weird since they'd seen it over Christmas break and had been saying 'As you wish' to each other almost up to the day she'd been kidnapped.  But, then again, to Buffy that was like twenty-three years ago.  It was so strange… the time "difference." 

Despite the fact that Willow saw Buffy almost every day, she missed *Buffy*.  She'd missed her when she was gone, but it was even worse now that she was back.  She and Oz were getting closer and were talking about making love.  Willow had really *really* wanted to talk to Buffy about it but Buffy was so… remote from her, Willow had actually broached the subject with Cordelia.  Oddly enough, it seemed to help things between Willow and Cordy – Willow suspected because Cordy no longer perceived her as a threat.  That said, things were still weird.  Cordy was not, and would never be her best friend, even if the Xander/Willow situation had never happened.  She just hoped that as time passed and Buffy came back to school - as Buffy had, terrified, told Willow her mother wanted her to do - that things would go back to the way they were. 

Willow wasn't sure of the decision for Buffy to go back to school so soon.  Her lack of memory notwithstanding, her accent… people were going to notice her accent.  Plus her complete change of wardrobe (Buffy was still only wearing her Betharan clothes, much to her Mom's obvious frustration and Cordy's rather vocal dismay) and dramatically different hairstyle were going to set off some alarm bells.

Still, when Buffy had confided that her mother wanted her to go back to school and how nervous she was about it, Willow had promised to help make it as painless as possible.  Starting with the aforementioned accent.

"I'm here for English lessons!  Is this a good time?"  Willow asked brightly, pulling a giant Hershey bar out of her bag.

Buffy nodded and eyed the candy bar.  "I try to rihd book you gehv - *gave* … me.  It is hard!" Buffy said softly with a nervous laugh.  "But, I like … subjeck!"   She turned and began to lead Willow up to her room.

Willow followed, smiling broadly.  They were reading Laurell Hamilton.  She figured Buffy would like a vampire novel.  "Well, let's start there.  You're probably doing better than you think!  Tell me what you thought so far."

***

Joyce's jaw dropped when the girls came downstairs.  A nervous, newly blonde Buffy descended the stairs wearing a thick white long-sleeved sweater, floor length peasant skirt and her Betharan boots.  Not exactly a typical-teenager outfit but Joyce was pleased to finally see her again in Earth clothing.  Cordelia's brow was furrowed as if considering what other changes could be made within Buffy's limits.  Willow just smiled brilliantly and looked pleased with herself. 

"Doesn't she look great?!" Willow encouraged.

"Honey, you look gorgeous!"  Instinctively, she walked towards her daughter to give her a congratulatory hug, stopping in her tracks when she saw Buffy bristle at the possibility of physical contact. 

"Well, girls," Joyce said, determined to play 'normal.'  "Are you ready for dinner?  I made Lasagna!"

"Ooo, thank you!  I love Lasagna! And that's your favorite, right, Buffy?" Cordelia gushed, clearly working at being supportive.

Buffy frowned.

"I think you'll like it Buffy.  You used to.  And if you don't, well, we've got other things too," Joyce said, a little too brightly.  "We should eat now, though, girls.  Buffy and I need to get down to the Gallery.  The opening starts at 8:00 and Amber's doing the final prep, but still, it's not fair to leave her with everything.  Shall we?"

Joyce gestured to the dining room and out of the corner of her eye saw Buffy's hesitation.  She was torn between wanting Buffy to get out more and back into her old life and hoping desperately she wasn't pushing her too much.  Tonight was Buffy's first foray into a non-slaying-related social situation.  Joyce hoped to God bringing her to the opening was a good move.  Hoped to *God*.

***

"Angel, thank you for coming," Joyce said, hoping she sounded sincere.  The words had barely left her mouth when a brilliantly smiling Buffy materialized next to him, and barreled into his arms.

"Wow! You look beautiful!" Angel said, clearly surprised by her transformation. 

"So do you!" she said, awed, reaching up to stroke his now clean shaven cheek.  She pulled him into her arms again and he hugged her briefly before releasing her with a quick kiss, taking her hand and politely responding to Joyce's earlier greeting. 

"Thank you, Mrs. Summers, for inviting me.  This is quite the collection.  Is the artist present this evening?"

Small talk.  She could do that.  "Yes, he's over by the sculpture – in the corner? Why don't you both take a look around and I'll be sure to introduce you before you go.  Ugh...I'm so sorry – I see Ryan Tierney from the Times.  I have to speak with him.  Will you be okay, sweetie?"

At Buffy's smiling nod, she left them, getting completely caught up in the chaos of the opening.  It was a typical affair:  lots of schmoozing, lots of narcissistic self-congratulations and thankfully several of the more expensive pieces sold.  Bertrand was a success – her gamble on him had really paid off.  She'd done her best to keep an eye on Buffy.  With mixed feelings, she realized she was deeply thankful that Angel had arrived at the beginning of the show and stayed with Buffy the entire time.  At one point, she saw that Buffy was even talking to some guests a little.  Her accent had lessened a bit – the product of Willow's and Angel's English lessons no doubt.  They'd concocted a lame cover story that Buffy had lived abroad when she was young and had never lost her accent.  Hopefully no one would question it.

After an hour and a half, the party was still going strong and Joyce could see Buffy growing tired.  Immensely proud of her daughter, she broke away from her client and crossed to where Buffy and Angel were talking quietly in the corner.

"Honey, if you want to go, it's okay with me," Joyce said approaching them.

Buffy's face lit up for a moment before a guilty frown crossed her face.  "It okay… Joyce.  We okay."

Joyce chuckled at her completely ineffective lie.  "Really.  I know you two probably want to get out of here.  Angel, please don't keep her out late, okay?" Joyce said, a warning clear in her voice.  Don't be too happy.  Don't let your guard down.  Don't *don’t* let me lose my daughter again.

"I promise, Mrs. Summers.  We'll be careful.  Right, love?"

Buffy smiled brilliantly at her.  "Thanks… Joyce and … congahrtulation on you show.  And Angel and me, we be careful, okay?"

Joyce did her best to hide her desperate desire to hug her daughter and just smiled and nodded and elicited a promise to be awakened when Buffy returned home.

***

Buffy was winning and Angel, well, wasn't.  "Dat's tree for me.  You sure you not letting me win? You promise?"

Angel swept vamp dust off his black pants.  "Positive, love.  Buffy, three.  Angel, two.  But… the night is young," he leered, leaning in toward her. "You may be leading but you haven't won yet."

"Ha!  Dri kelma'a tarna, okay?"  Buffy said, laughing.

"We'll see about that," Angel teased, grabbing her hand and turning toward the darker part of the cemetery. 

"Buffy," he said more seriously as they strolled, "You look.… I know we agreed not to talk about these things but I wanted to say, well…. You look really beautiful to-"

"Engel!" Buffy whispered, her smile immediately dying as she stopped in her tracks.  "You hear dat?  Shelna tarak'na."

He could definitely hear someone crying.  "Behind the crypt," he said quietly, releasing her hand and quietly following her around the monument.  "Careful, love."

He'd no sooner rounded the corner when something flew out at him and tackled him to the ground.  A stake barely missed his heart, embedding in the mud beside him due only to Buffy's quick reaction to the danger. 

"Fait'!  What you doing?  T'rah!  Fait', what happen to you?  You okay?"  Buffy knelt by her sister Slayer who was curled on her side in a fetal position, rocking herself and sobbing.  "Fait'?  What is it?  What happen?  Whatever is – it is – we help you, okay?  Right, Engel?"

Angel stared at Faith with a curious look on his face – doubt, loss, disbelief, dread.  Buffy knew that face.  It never meant anything good.

"Faith, look at me," he said, kneeling beside her and gently taking her shoulders.  "Faith, I need you to look at me."

Faith curled tighter into a ball and sobbed even harder.  "Leave it, Angel," she moaned.  "Just leave it.  Leave me be."

Angel kept his gentle grip on her.  "Not gonna happen, Faith.  I need you to talk to me.  And we need to talk to Giles."

Faith suddenly sprang up to standing, knocking Angel onto his ass.  "I said LEAVE IT!  Go away, Angel.  I'm *fine*.  Just leave it.  Having a bad night that's all."

"Fait'.  You bleeding.  Engel, she is bleeding." Buffy gasped, seeing for the first time the state of Faith's shirt and hands.

"It's not her blood, Buffy.  Is it, Faith?" Angel said, his eyes completely focused on Faith.

"I'll kill you, motherfucker.  I'll kill you both!  Leave me the fuck alone!" Turning, Faith ran out of the cemetery. 

"Engel!" Buffy said, jumping up and trying to drag him with her.  "We need get her. Engel –"

"We need to go see Giles," he said quietly.  Buffy looked unsure for a moment – go get Faith, go with Angel - but then nodded and pulled him to standing.  Holding her hand tightly, he led her quickly out of the cemetery. 

***

"You think this hasn't happened before?" Giles said, resigned, worried, pouring himself a stiff drink, then reconsidering and pouring Angel one, and then further reconsidering and pouring a small one for Buffy as well.  It wasn't as if she were underage – not anymore.

"What do we do?"  Angel asked, accepting the glass and taking a considerable draught before setting it down on the coffee table.

"What you mean, what we do?  Fait' couldn't…. I'm sure she not mean it, Giles.  I'm sure it mistake.  Right, Engel?"

"It.. well, it doesn't matter, Buffy," Angel began.  "Here – well, there are processes.  When people commit a crime, they are put on trial and–"

"No!  No!  You not do dat to her!  No!" Buffy screamed, flying from the couch toward the door. 

"Buffy!  Buffy, wait!  That's not–" Angel vaulted over the couch, intercepting her at the door and gently taking her shoulders.  "Love, that's NOT what I meant."  He pulled her to him and held her tightly.  "No one will do that to her.  I *promise* you.  I *promise*.  Right, Giles?"

"Well… yes….  Right," Giles stammered, stunned by her sudden outburst.  Although, in her world, that's what punishment was.  Horrified, he downed his drink, poured himself another, carefully considered his words and then continued.

"Typically, one must go through the Council but, well, given their… recent actions, we must, er, consider other steps."  Buffy was clinging to Angel tightly, shuddering.  Angel rubbed her back and caught Giles' eyes over her shoulder.  This was too much for her. 

Giles remained silent, drinking… can't get too drunk… have to deal with Faith… until she calmed and they pulled away from one another.  Angel pushed her hair away from her face, whispered, "Are you okay?"  She nodded and turned to Giles.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, sheepishly.

"It's, er, it's quite all right, Buffy," Giles said sadly.  "It's perfectly understandable…."  Think, man.  Help her.  "Buffy, dear, I'm very cold suddenly.  Would you mind terribly.... Could you please fetch my grey jumper – sweater – from my room? It should be somewhere in the chest of drawers."

Buffy looked at him suspiciously.  "Giles–"

"Please, Buffy.  I'm really quite cold.  I'd appreciate it."

"Oookay," Buffy said with a quick glance at Angel.  She ran up the stairs.

Angel looked at Giles purposefully.  "She'll be fast so tell me quickly."

"We need to find the body and, well, get rid of it.  I think it needs to be you as you have no, well, fingerprints and such on file… since you don't 'officially' exist.  Can you do that?"

"Of course."

"And we need to find Faith and get her back here.  We need to make sure that she's protected as soon as possible."

"How do you propose we do that?"

"I don't really know.  She's staying here.  I suppose she'll have to come back at some point, right?  I'd prefer not to wait, though."

Angel frowned for a moment.  "I think – well, if Buffy's home I should be able to hone in on Faith's… 'Slayer' and locate her that way.  And, to be honest Giles, it would be easier to find her first.  We don't know who it was she killed, I don't know where the body is…. For all we know the person's alive… although given her state…." He ran a hand through his hair.  "What I'm trying to say is we really know nothing.  Let me just–" He plastered on a smile as Buffy came running down the stairs, blue jumper in hand.  "Hey!  I was just telling Giles that it's getting late and I promised your mother I'd get you home before morning.  Are you ready to go?"

Buffy handed Giles his jumper.  "I not find grey so I bring dis.  What about Fait'?  You not telling me?"  She said, her voice full of suspicion.

"I'll tell you on the way home, okay?" Angel said lightly, kissing her forehead.

After a moment, she nodded and Angel led her out, glancing back over his shoulder at Giles and nodding.  He'd get it done.

***

It had been a rough week.  Disposing of the body had been dicey; the victim was the mayor's assistant, Alan Finch, and he'd barely gotten the guy out of there before twenty cops had arrived on the scene.  So far, nothing had tied Faith to the body.  And that was how it was going to stay.

He didn't like that Faith couldn't somehow make restitution through the usual channels but he understood that this was the way things had to be.  Since the death of Kendra, the Slayer line had run through Faith.  Buffy had died numerous times on Bethara and yet there were no extra Slayers on Earth to show for it.  According to Giles, no matter the dimension, a Slayer killed in the line of duty would 'call' another and, thereafter, the line would run through the subsequent Slayer, no matter the status of the 'original' one.

So Faith would live free – would have to *be* free… or as free as she was able to be.  Angel knew a thing or two about inner demons and knew that she had a long way to go to begin to get past her guilt and lead some sort of happy life – if she were ever able to have that again.  The first thirty-six hours had been the worst; he'd finally locked himself and Faith in Giles' bedroom, determined to get through her bravado to the deep pain she had to have been feeling.  She'd insisted she was fine... tried to seduce him more than once…. They'd spent the balance of the time fighting with words, stray weapons and, sadly for Giles, some of his personal things, until she'd finally broken down and let him past her defenses, revealing a desolate, deeply hurting girl underneath all her bluster.

"So, the plan is to follow Faith and make sure she's all right," Angel said as he and Buffy walked hand in hand toward St. Michael's Cemetery.  "I agree with Giles that she's ready to be slaying on her own again, but without us there…. We both just felt better if for the next day or two, you and I shadowed her a bit.  Make sure she's on her game… make sure she's being safe."

"Okay," Buffy said, giving his hand a squeeze.  "But won't she know we're following close behind? I mean, Slayer sense and all.  If she can't sense me, she *will* sense you.  You know this." 

"English, sweetie," Angel said, stopping for a moment and turning her towards him, placing his hands gently on her waist and kissing the tip of her nose.  "Try and stick to English.  The only way you'll get better is–"

"I know, I know," she said sheepishly, in English.  "I jus' … ever'thing take so long to say.  I get tired.  I'm sorry."

"I know, love," he said with a reassuring smile, walking again and crossing the street to approach the entrance to the graveyard.  "It *will* get better.  I promise you…. Have I told you how proud I am of you?  Of how far you've come in only four weeks?"

Buffy blushed and smiled broadly.  "Thank you.  I am glad–"

She halted as his hand tightened on her arm and followed him into the shrubs ringing the outside of the cemetery walls.  Faith was strolling about one hundred feet away, drumming her stake against her palm.  She looked agitated… like a bomb with a very short fuse.  Buffy held her breath when Faith whirled around and stared for a moment at the bushes behind which they hid before shaking her head and turning and continuing her "rounds" of the cemetery. 

Two vamps came out behind Faith and were approaching silently to where she strolled, oblivious to them.  She wasn't sensing them; she was distracted.  Buffy began to leave their cover to go help but was stopped by Angel's hand on her arm.  "We need to let her figure this out, okay, love?  We'll keep a close eye on her and jump in as needed but let's let her do this alone.  She won't get hurt; we won't let her.  I promise, okay?"

Buffy stared at Faith who had now become aware of the threat and turned and was fighting with a vengeance.  She was a little 'off her game' but was definitely keeping the upper hand in the fight.  Buffy nodded in response to Angel's statement yet kept her eyes trained on Faith, determined to enter the battle at the first sign of trouble. 

Four more vamps approached Faith and Buffy was setting off to help when a vague rustling noise caused her to whirl around. She and Angel were being surrounded by their own cadre of six vampires, all working as a unit to try and take the two of them down.  Frustrated and worried that she had to look away from Faith, she began to fight the vamps with everything she had, quickly dispatching two, only to be exasperated when two more ran from the trees and entered the fight in place of their two fallen brothers. 

The vamps were all very large and excellent fighters and Buffy quickly began to tire.  She realized quickly that, super-strength notwithstanding, she was not in peak condition – having only begun to slay in earnest again over the past few weeks – and that her stamina was not really up to a fight of this level.  She managed to kill two more but, finding herself winded after being thrown yet another time into the side of the fence, she was greatly relieved when Angel managed to slay the remaining four of them quickly using one of the vamps' swords.  A vamp with a sword?

She lay on the ground for a moment catching her breath.  Angel, exhausted, stood protectively at her side as he himself took a moment to rest.    

"Oh, Gawd.  Fait'," Buffy said, standing quickly when she realized she could no longer hear Faith's fight.  They both ran quickly into the cemetery to where Faith had been fighting the vamps.

There was no sign of her.

*** 

"She's gone.  She was surrounded by six vamps and then Buffy and I were surrounded….  Buffy and I did a quick search but she's definitely not in St. Michael's.  We saw nothing and certainly didn't sense anything.  I need you to organize a search party and I'd prefer if it didn't involve Willow or Cordelia.  We're talking a lot of vamps, Giles.  Big ones.  I don't want them at risk…. I don't want *anyone* at risk but there's too much territory to cover.  As it is, I need to go and continue–"

Buffy shifted anxiously from foot to foot.  This telephoning was taking too long.  Faith was *missing*.  The question was why?  No one knew what had happened with the Mayor's assistant, unless….

"Engel!  ENGEL!  We haf to go.  It – De Council.  I think de Council haf her." 

Angel stopped talking and, wide-eyed, stared down at a panicked, teary-eyed Buffy clutching his arm.  He swallowed, nodded and continued into the telephone.  "Giles, listen to me.  Buffy thinks the Council has Faith and I - We need to find her Giles.  No Willow or Cordelia.  Just organize and start checking.  We're at St. Michael's… we'll do Cedars, St. Ann's and… and we'll do Sunnyrest.  I have a feeling.… We'll do Sunnyrest first – it was Sunnyrest before… I have a feeling there's a portal there. Gotta go."

Hanging up the telephone quickly, he took Buffy's hand and they began to run. 

***

Part 12

From the moment they passed through the gates of Sunnyrest, they could sense Faith.  Running as quickly as they could toward her, Buffy stopped short when she saw Faith surrounded by twelve vamps all working as a unit… playing with her but not killing her.  She knew this.  The crypt with the angel on top, the large cracked cross with the corner broken off… she….

This was where she'd been taken. 

"Engel…," she gasped.

He looked down at her horrified face with pain in his eyes and he knew that she knew. 

"We haf to save her, Engel," she whispered.  "Plan?"

Angel looked it over.  There was no plan, just get in there and get killing.  Grabbing her arms, he forced her to meet his gaze.  "I *love* you.  Be careful."

At her answering nod, they ran and joined the foray. 

It was brutal.  Buffy managed to take out three quickly but two more immediately surprised her from behind, picking her up by the legs and swinging her like an axe into the cross.  She lay unmoving for a moment beside the cross, desperate to get her breath back.  From the corner of her eye, she saw Faith losing.  The two vamps that had attacked Buffy stood watching Faith get pummeled.  They obviously believed Buffy to be out cold and for whatever reason didn't kill her which allowed her to flip *painfully* back to standing and dispatch one of them quickly.  It was no use. Two more grabbed her from behind, one quickly moving a knife to her throat and holding it just above her jugular.  They spun her to face the more open area. 

"Move and she dies, instantly." A man walked forward, addressing Angel, leering at Buffy as he walked toward her.  "Move *at all* and she dies instantly."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a frantic and unmoving Angel being held back by three vamps, and flanked by two heavily-armed others.  Faith's arms were pinned behind her by an enormous, hulking vamp who was nuzzling her neck, while another held a knife to the opposite side of her throat.  The large vamp licked Faith's throat.  Faith looked just shy of passing out.  

The man smirked at Angel as he walked up to Buffy, reached up a hand and gently fondled her breast.  Buffy gasped.

"Don't!  Leave her alone!" Angel yelled.

Tears spilled down Buffy's face as her captors tightened their grip… as, helplessly, she felt her nipple tighten as the man pulled at it, the fabric of her long-sleeved T-shirt doing little to protect her from his touch.  She remembered this too.  This man, this man was *Quentin*, the one who'd taken her to Bethara. 

"You know, when you slayed the first group I sent to St. Michael's...," Quentin started, pinching her roughly now.  She hissed in pain.  "Well, all I can say is thank you for bringing Buffy here yourself, Angel.  You've made my life so much easier."

She glanced desperately over at Angel.  He was growling, furious.  "Look at me, Bryn," Quentin whispered. "Watch me."  Horrified, she met his gaze, whimpering when he slowly dragged his hand up her leg, up the inside of her thigh, raising her skirt… as he slowly slipped past her underwear and began to massage her clit.  A sob broke free of her and he moaned in ecstasy.  "Your pain is stunning, Bryn.  Stunning.  What a prize you are.  I can't wait to deliver you… to return the *jewel* of the Pava, along with the fallen Tar…. 

"They've missed you, Bryn.  I'm told that Bethara just isn't the same without you and that the heads of the Houses there…. *Lots* of pent up anger," he menaced, stabbing his fingers inside her, "rage," he stabbed deeper, Buffy moaning as his fingers stung her dry center.  "Oh, how much you are going to *hurt*, my dear girl," he hissed, now digging his fingernails into her clit.  "I'm told you are quite exquisite when you are being tortured.  I may just stay and watch as they kill you again.  And again.  And again.

"So delicious.

"And you," he said, abruptly abandoning the now-sobbing Buffy and moving over to Faith.  "Killing people, Faith?  I must say I had higher hopes for you but when the Mayor rang me…." He shook his head in disgust.  "What is this world coming to?  I will say, though, that circumstance has created some mercy for you.  You, my dear, won't be making this trip.  Of course, you'll be dead, but really, six of one, half dozen of the other.  I am sure that Buffy would trade places with you in a heartbeat but the Slayer line runs through you now, so…. 

"Bryn, you'd trade.  Wouldn't you, my dear?" Quentin smirked at her.

Calmly, he pulled a small notebook out of his pocket.  "You'd think I'd have memorized this by now," he said, shaking his head and chuckling.  "Age does catch up with one.  You'll never know about that, Bryn….  You won't live that long," he said laughing again.  "I doubt you'll make it for even 1,000 years.  That's the Penance I negotiated for you with the Meior.  But don't worry.  I'm sure that after four or five hundred years, *someone* will grow bored with you.  But then, you never know."

He raised his arms slightly and, reading from his notebook, began to intone: "Prkta nah ta'ehk funul prktoi ya a'she orq na tak dri k'nak tel maran qa!"

He stared for a moment as the portal shimmered to life about twenty feet away.  Nodding in satisfaction, he placed his notebook back in his pocket, exchanging it for a hypodermic needle and a vial of liquid.  He silently filled the needle with the liquid, tapping the side as he squeezed it, making sure there was no air in it.  "Can't have you die before all the fun," he said to Faith, smirking.  Roughly grabbing her arm, he stabbed her with the needle.  Faith fought him feebly as he slowly squeezed.  The big vamp held her tighter.

"Wait until we've gone and then enjoy her for as long as you like… teach her about pain," Quentin said to Faith's captors.  "But when you are finished, make *sure* she's dead.  Drain her if you want but the bottom line is I want nothing left of her, are we clear?  Burn her – burn her alive if you'd like, but burn her." 

The vamp holding Faith snickered and swept the knife gently across her throat, drawing a thin line of blood from her which he promptly licked up.  Faith wept as urine streamed down her leg.

Quentin stood back in front of Buffy now, stared at her as she visibly trembled, tears flowing down her face.  His eyes held hers as he slowly refilled the needle again.  He sighed and holding the needle clearly in view, gently stroked his opposite hand down her neck, across her collarbone and then down the upper part of her arm.  Buffy whimpered, panicked.

"Stunning."  The vamps tightened their grip on her … the blade was cold against her throat.  Images of Bethara flashed through her mind… her Celebration, the Pava… the Meior locking her in the bnrian coffin, snakes stinging her breasts as his sons' laughter filled the air… as they branded her… as they killed her… as they beat her… as they raped her again and again.

Quentin grabbed her upper arm tightly and brought the needle up.   No no NO! 

She wasn't going back.

With an animalistic scream, she used her heel and kicked the knife-wielding vamp hard in the groin, while twisting herself backwards as much as possible.  She ended up deeply scratched but avoided a killing blow and the needle.  Seeing Buffy out of immediate harm's way, Angel began to fight the five vamps surrounding him, determined to get them all out of there. 

More vamps ran out from behind neighboring crypts.  How many were there?  The portal was open – a gaping, shimmering hole - and Buffy knew it wasn't going to stop, it was never going to stop.  Quentin smirked as he walked rapidly toward a newly arrived Willow and Xander who were standing on the outskirts of the fight, nervously firing crossbows but unsuccessfully taking out any vamps.

Seeing Angel was near enough to save Faith, Buffy abandoned the fight and sprinted to where Quentin was backing her friends toward the portal.  Without stopping her approach, she spun quickly into a flying kick and knocked Quentin away from them, and once he was on the ground, began to pummel him, hitting him over and over, her knuckles becoming bloody with both his blood and her own.  When she sensed he was losing consciousness, she stopped and grabbed his head with both hands, made him focus on her.  He hoarsely laughed and grinned up at her, his gaze bleary. 

"Look at me, Mistah Quentin.  I wan' you to see deat'.  Dis is what deat' looks like."  His eyes widened as she squeezed his skull.  He twisted to get away.  Buffy jerked his head to the right, unceremoniously breaking his neck.  As breath left his body, the portal closed with a loud snap.

Standing quickly, Buffy brushed her hands on her skirt and turned to Willow and Xander.  "You okay?"

Willow stared at her, her mouth open.  "You killed him?  Did you just kill him?"

"Yes," Buffy answered matter-of-factly.  "He not going to do dat again.  No more," she said coldly. 

"You okay?" she asked more pointedly.  Subject closed.  "We go?"

Xander nodded dumbly and took Willow's hand and followed Buffy over to where Angel stood, his arms around a sobbing Faith.  They were alone.

Angel studied Buffy.  She nodded in answer to his silent "are you okay?" and swiped her eyes quickly, wiping up her tears.

"You two, okay?" Angel asked Xander and Willow. Again Xander nodded on behalf of them both. 

"Buffy took care of it," Xander responded quietly.

"I did what I hed to do, Engel," she defended, sadly.  "I did what I hed to do."

***

They'd stood in silence for several minutes… Faith clutching onto Angel for dear life, Willow holding Xander's right hand with both of her own, Xander staring at the ground. 

"Everyone... we go?" Buffy asked, impatiently.  Without responding, Xander began to lead Willow toward the cemetery entrance and Angel and Faith followed behind, Angel reaching out to take Buffy's hand in his.  They were almost to the front gate when Buffy stopped suddenly. 

"Engel," she whispered.  "We not alone here."  Buffy looked around for a moment before spying the young girl sitting against a tombstone, weeping uncontrollably.  Buffy frowned for a moment but then walked toward her.

"Be careful, Buffy. She's not human," Angel called out.

Buffy didn't slow herself; rather, she walked purposely up to the girl and knelt beside her and stroked her arm.  "I know you," she said in Betharan. 

The girl nodded. 

"You… you were… you are the Key, is that right?" Buffy asked, frowning, trying to remember.  The girl, again, nodded. 

"Did he hurt you?" Buffy asked.  The girl hesitated and then slightly dipped her head. 

"I'm sorry.  He hurt me too.  He's gone now.  He can't hurt you – or me – anyone – anymore.  Okay?  It'll be okay.  Don't cry, he's gone."  The girl began to cry harder now and Buffy was perplexed until she realized that Quentin was probably the only link the girl had to Earth.  She probably had nowhere to go. 

Buffy could sense Angel behind her, could sense his concern.  It was time to go.  Standing she held her hand out to the girl and said gently, "It's okay.  You can come home with me if you'd like.  Would you like that?"

The girl looked up and wiping her tears away with the back of her hands, smiled sadly and nodded, and accepted Buffy's extended hand.  Turning to Angel, she said, "Angel, this is… what's your name? Do you have a name?"

The girl nodded and whispered, "He called me Dawn."

Buffy frowned again.  "Can I call you Dawn or do you want to pick a new name?  You can if you want now, you know.  You can do anything you want now."

The girl thought for a moment and then smiled up at Buffy.  "Dawn."

Buffy smiled brilliantly.  "Dawn, it is, then."

***

"Oh, dear God.  You are all alright." Giles said, ushering them into his apartment.  "Faith, you are alright?"

Faith nodded slightly in response to his question.  "Well, then," Giles continued.  "I had a feeling when our search turned up nothing that *you* had managed to locate Travers.  And Angel, I'm sorry. Willow and Xander insisted on looking for you both."

Giles looked them over.  "But you're all safe?  What happened?"

Faith pulled away from Angel and began to pace, rubbing her forearms.  "I was – I was fighting these vamps in St. Michael's," she began, her voice shaky.  "Big ones and… and they were… and they were winning.  And then they just ran off.  They ran off!   I was so cocky.  I thought I scared them.  And so… I should have known… but I didn't and… I chased them to Sunnyrest and then… then I was surrounded.  Giles, it was a trap.  It was… Oh God.  I almost got everyone killed.  I should have known it was a trap.  I should have–"

Faith sank to the floor, tears streaming down her face.  Giles moved towards her only to be practically knocked out of the way by Dawn who ran to Faith and knelt beside her, stroking her arm like Buffy had done when Dawn had been crying at the cemetery.  Dawn looked up at Buffy with a questioning smile and Buffy nodded that yes, Dawn was doing the right thing.

Faith gasped and calmed immediately, visibly stunned by Dawn's actions.  Dawn smiled at Faith brilliantly, clearly proud she'd been able to make her feel better. 

"I don't - Buffy, who is this?"

"Giles, dis Dawn.  Dawn, Giles." 

Dawn smiled up at him. 

"Buffy knew Dawn from Bethara," Angel said quietly.  "Apparently, they met there and Dawn has been living here with Quentin… I think."

"She has," a voice behind Giles chimed in.  Buffy was shocked to see an elegant, young looking black woman approaching Giles from behind.  "Olivia Parker, Watcher's Council," she continued, her hand extended. "*But* you have nothing to fear from me.  I came here to warn Rupert of what I thought Quentin was doing.  I'm sorry I wasn't in time to prevent his attack on you all."

"Olivia is an old friend, Buffy.  An old and, indeed, trusted friend," Giles said, smiling warmly at Olivia. 

"I'm truly sorry, Miss Summers.  For all that's happened.  I'd… It's likely too little too late, but anything I can do to help…. Any steps I can take….  Quentin – I believe he must be stopped and I'm here to support you–"

"He's stopped.  I stopped him," Buffy said coldly.  "He not hurt me or Fait' or Dawn or Slayers anymore." 

Silence filled the room for a moment as the reality of her words set in.

"Well, then.  Right," Olivia said in a guarded tone.

Turning quickly to face Giles, Buffy said:  "I tired, Giles.  I want take Dawn home to Joyce…. Dawn needs to sleep and I too.  Can Angel walk me home now?"

Giles nodded his answer, still too stunned by Buffy's prior announcement to find any words.  Buffy waited for Xander and Willow to leave and then taking Dawn's and Angel's hands led them out the door. 

***

It was just shy of 2:00 a.m. when Buffy got home.  Joyce could hear Buffy's and Angel's muffled voices on the front stoop.  She had to admit she was happy that Buffy felt comfortable enough in the house to forego climbing into her window and to actually use the front door.  She hoped this meant she was finally settling in. 

As the door shut, she heard Buffy continue speaking quietly in Betharan to someone.  Looking up, curious, from her place reclined on the couch, Joyce was shocked to see Buffy heading up the stairs with a young girl in tow.   

"Buffy?  Honey?  Is that you?  What's going on?"  Joyce asked, as she stood and approached the girls. 

"Joyce! You up still?  Joyce, dis Dawn.  Dawn, dis Joyce.  I know Dawn from Bet'ara.  Dawn need – Dawn haf no home so I told Dawn she stay here, okay?"

Joyce looked fully at Dawn now.  The girl was tall and about 13 years old.  She was, however, dressed like an eight-year old:  An empire waist sundress that ended at her knees, white knee socks, black Mary Janes and twin pigtails.  Her makeup was equally severe but the other way.  With deep red lipstick and blusher, she looked like a twenty-year old. 

"Buffy… what?  Honey, we need to talk about things like this.  This is – Well, it's nice to meet you Dawn, but Buffy, honey, can I talk to you in the living room for a moment?" Joyce said, with what she hoped was an unforced smile. 

Dawn clutched onto Buffy's hand tightly and Joyce felt terrible when Dawn's eyes teared up.  "Pary tra, Dawn," Buffy said to the girl softly, with a soothing smile.  "Ehrtra tra, neit tra'a knet dri fradt un tu.  Eith r dra'at righ keprt, tra?"

Dawn nodded sadly and released Buffy's hand.  Buffy quickly followed her mother into the living room. 

"Joyce, I sorry – I know you not happy but she haf no place to go.  She… She hurt too.  Dey, de Watchers, dey hurt Dawn…  And de man who hurt her, he try… dey try to kidnap me and take me back tonight.  It is okay.  I fought him and, well, I take care of him.  He not bother us anymore.  But he all Dawn had.  She is special, Joyce.  She needs me."

Joyce sank back onto the couch.  They tried to kidnap her *again*?  And they hurt this girl, Dawn?  Buffy had been cagey about Bethara but suddenly she felt completely in the dark about what *exactly* had happened there.  She had this sinking feeling that her suspicion of rape was a complete understatement.  Her stomach churned and she fought not to throw up. 

The girl, the girl on the stairs while tall, was practically pre-pubescent.  And she'd been… raped… too.  Dear God, what were these people doing to these girls?

"Honey, I… I wish you could tell me what happened there.  Maybe I could help you both," Joyce said hopefully.

Buffy frowned and looked over at Dawn. 

"*But* if you can't tell me, that's okay.  This is your home and, of course, Dawn is welcome to stay here as your guest, okay?  Does she…. Are her parents.… Does she have parents we can get in touch with, though?  They must be worried."

Buffy shook her head.  "She haf no parents.  She… de Pava create her.  Dawn is not human, Joyce.  She not a demon either but she is magic energy in human form.  Dat is why she is special… dat is why she is how she is.  She is good, though.  She not deserve what dey did to her.  *No* one deserve what dey did to *us*," Buffy bit out angrily.  "No one."

After a moment of silence, Joyce realized Buffy had shared all she was going to share.  "Well, it's late.  Let's get to bed, okay?" Joyce said.  "I'll make up the guest room for Dawn – it'll only take a second.  Why don't you find her something to sleep in, okay?" 

"No, Joyce.  Dawn stay wit' me.  Okay?"

"Uh, yes.  That's fine, Buffy.  Whatever would make you both comfortable," Joyce said helplessly.

Buffy nodded and purposefully turned back toward the stairs and began to lead Dawn up to her room.  There were no 'good nights', no kind words.  She realized in that moment that her hope that Buffy was settling in was far, far from reality.

Exhausted, she climbed the stairs and fell into bed.

*** 

Joyce woke at about 4:30 a.m. and, out of habit, pulled on her bathrobe and headed down the hall to check on Buffy.  At the top of the stairs, she realized she could hear movement downstairs.  She crept down the stairs quietly and, retrieving an umbrella from the umbrella stand next to the door to use as a weapon, continued slowly making her way into the kitchen.

"… okay, Buffy.  I promise you, it'll be okay," Angel was saying, quietly.  He sounded like if he weren't crying, he would be in short order.  Joyce couldn't decide whether to burst in and announce her presence or wait it out.  Hating herself for doing it, but hoping that perhaps Buffy would share information with Angel that she was holding back from her mother, she decided to wait a moment before going in.

"But I," Buffy said tearfully, "dri taran toll, Engel.  Kran'a teer uncha kel tra'at nar-"

"English, honey," Angel said, clearly crying now.  "Try and practice –"

"What the point?!" Buffy snapped.  "I… Dis world… ever'thing is darkness.  Ever'thing black.

"And I miss you," Buffy said more softly, sniffling.  "I sorry, Engel.  I know we agree to not talk of it but… I miss being wit' you.  It like... I don't fit here.  I never fit here.  How I fit here when ever'thing is wrong?  How I fit here when you not here?"

"But it'll get better, love.  It *will* get better.  I'm not with you in your house but I will never leave you.  I'm here as long as you want me to be.  It *will* get better."

"But, how, Engel?  I not remember things I should.  My mother, she want me to remember things and I can't.  I try but it gone.  I try to read – she want me to go to school – but I not remember things I supposed to know.  I don't remember dese people, or English mat' and numbers, or…."

"Come here," Angel said.  They both moved into her field of vision and she saw him wrap his arms around her and hold her tightly, rubbing her back as Buffy dissolved into tears.  "Shhh, shhh.  It'll be okay.  I promise."

"How it okay… how it okay when I not wit' you?" Buffy sobbed.  "How it okay when ever'thing wrong?  Ever'thing wrong *here*, Engel.  Ever'thing wrong, here."

Joyce's heart broke.  Seeing Buffy, standing there in her Betharan clothes, holding on to Angel for dear life, she hated the Watchers with a renewed force.  But more than that she hated herself.  What kind of pressure was she putting on them all?  Damn it!  Those fucking Watchers… she wanted to kill them herself, for taking away her daughter's life.  First, when they made her the Slayer and now…. Now, here she was, most likely a victim of some sort of unspeakable abuses, stuck on a planet away from the man she loved, who obviously loved her… bringing home strange girls who she didn't know but seemed closer to than any of the people who loved her. 

Defeated, she left the young lovers clinging to each other in desperation, and climbed the stairs and fell back into bed. 

*** 

Joyce felt like shit.  She stumbled down the stairs, doubting that there was enough coffee in the universe to wake her up… or, for that matter, improve her mood.  Turning into the living room, she found Buffy curled in an arm chair – dressed in her American clothes again – staring absently at the TV. 

"Good morning," Joyce said, brightly (she hoped) as she entered the room.  "Where's Dawn?"

"She sleeping still.  I… I not tired so…." Buffy trailed off, continuing to stare at the TV.

"How about some nice French Toast?  Would you like that?" Joyce asked her.  "You used to love that."

Buffy frowned but then nodded. 

Seeing Buffy's mind was elsewhere, Joyce abandoned all pretense of breakfast and instead took a seat on the ottoman beside her daughter. 

"Buffy, honey, can I talk to you for a moment?" Joyce asked gently as she picked up the remote and turned the TV off. 

Buffy turned in her seat to face her.  "You are mad about Dawn.  I sorry Joyce but –"

"Honey, I'm not mad.  I'm… I was surprised, but last night when I thought about it…. Well, she had nowhere else to go and she's your friend so of course she's welcome here.  Particularly after they... well, after… she…." Joyce took a deep breath. "She's welcome here as long as you like.  I would like to talk to Mr. Giles about her though… see if there's anything we can do for her.  Is that okay?"

Buffy frowned and nodded, her eyes teary now with gratitude.  "Thank you, Joyce.  It… I… I…." Joyce watched Buffy struggle to collect herself before continuing.  "Joyce, I – please don' be mad – but Engel visit last night and he say it good if I tell you some things.  Dere are things he think you should know, especially because of Dawn."

Joyce nodded cautiously.

Buffy sighed and looked sad.  "Dawn not my friend.  I… I do not actually remember Dawn, not really.  Dawn was dere when I got dere.  To Bet'ara.  She…."

Buffy trailed off and then took a deep breath and continued.  "Last night, Engel and I watching Fait', making sure she okay slaying alone…."

Joyce wondered at that.  Why wouldn't she be?

"Fait' hafing some problem and we were following her and … dere were so many vampires, Joyce....  Dey surround me and I remember it like before… de same cemetery, de same sit-iation.  *Quentin*.  Dey hold me, and Quentin open de portal and it was like before.  He touch me and took me…"  Buffy broke off, her voice trembling, and took a deep breath. 

Dear God…

"Before – last time – I woke up at de Pava and… dey use me, Joyce.  At de Pava, dey use me.  I belong to Pava… I not a person anymore, I a thing… I his Bryn, his 'property'… his to do with as he want….  I am currency.  I am traded.  Dey say I had committed crimes here on Eart' and dat I am paying for dem by being dere toy.  I jus'… I jus' could not go dere again.  I could *not*.  I…."  Buffy trailed off, panicked.

"It's okay, baby.  It's okay," Joyce said desperately, fighting to maintain her composure.  Her baby.  They'd hurt her baby.

"I *kill* him, Joyce," Buffy whispered harshly, her voice shuddering.  "I kill Quentin last night.  And I do it again.  He *hurt* me."

OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGodohmyGod….

Buffy's eyes shut as she visibly tried to calm herself, her hands clutching her knees as she breathed deeply.  Once, twice, three times.  Looking up, composed, she met her mother's now shattered gaze.

"I *not* go dere again," she said quietly.  "I cannot die again.  Not again.  I already lose so much.  Every time you die, Joyce, and dey bring you back, you lose a little more.  More memory, more goodness, more soul.  Dey kill you to control you… because dey know how much losing hurts.  When Engel come… I already remember so little.  *So* little.  I think I end up like Dawn if I go back.  Just a shell… a shell to be used and beaten and *raped* and… *destroyed* only to be brought back to life again and again until dey tire of me."

Joyce couldn't hide her tears.  Dear God, what had they done to her baby?

"Time different dere," Buffy said, her voice breaking as she fought not to sob in anguish.  "Time move slower.  I slave to de Pava for twenty-two years but for you only few weeks haf passed.  De last Slayer was dere for 350 *years* before dey kill her.  I couldn't go back.  I jus' couldn't."

"Buffy…," Joyce whispered, horrified.

"Last night, when we come home, Dawn tell me she not understand why Quentin always hurt her… always share her with other men who hurt her.  She want to know why he always beat her when she try to be good.  For me, in Bet'ara, at least I know why I am dere, why I am slave.  But she not know.  She not able.  She not understand.  She… she is special, Joyce."

"Why?  Why were you… slave?" Joyce asked hoarsely. 

"De Pava – my Master – say it because I commit crimes," Buffy said harshly, angrily.  "I never remember what crimes I commit!  But I to pay for 400 years… dat is de lengt' of my Penance."

Dear God, her *master*.… Four hundred *years*?

Buffy gave up her battle and began to cry.  "Engel come and….  He come and… and he buy time to see me.  He come and he not hurt me.… I wait for him to hurt me like de others and he not….  He tell me I commit no crime, dat I did nothing wrong.  I was just… I thought he lying, why would dey… why would dey hurt me if I not do something very bad?  But Engel said dat was untrue and he save me.  He fight and get me out.  He… He so good to me and he save me and take care of me.  He love me."

Buffy took a rasping breath and continued.  "Engel and I, we go to de Tar and it so good, Joyce.  We haf a big *safe* house and I can go outside in de Tar and de people dere, dey treat me well.  I special dere… de mate of de Tar, Engel.  De Tar and de Pava… dey are different peoples.  In de Tar, de women are not slaves… dere dey are mates and are treated well.  Engel help me get better… he teach me to fight again and he teach me about love.  He teach me dat I am equal… dat I am *good*… dat no one ever hurt me again.  He make me feel so special.  He is my mate and we not together here and I… miss him, Joyce.  I'm sorry… but I miss him."

Joyce reached out and touched Buffy's arm and was shocked when Buffy, sobbing now, clutched her hand.  "Here, we not together and Engel, he different here.  He can't go out in de sun, he can't kiss me–"

"I don't….  He can do those things there?" Joyce asked, stunned.

Buffy nodded, sobbing harder.  "Dere is no curse dere.  I don' know why but dere isn't.  Engel is strong like here but he can go in de sun, he can… we can… we can love each other dere…." Buffy broke off, her head sinking into her hands.

"But honey, if your lives were good there, why did you come back?" Joyce asked softly, afraid she already knew the answer.

Buffy answered through her hands:  "He promise to bring me back.  So, he did."

***

Part 13

"Joyce!  Is everything okay?  Is Buffy.…  Please, do come in," Giles babbled, as he moved aside to allow her into his apartment.

"Sorry to barge in.  Buffy's fine… she's sleeping.  I just– I needed to talk to you.   Do you have… do you have some time?"

"Well, yes.  Of course.  Faith and Olivia – a new Watcher, a *friend* – are out for a run.  They should be a few minutes yet.  What.… What is it you wished to discuss?"

Joyce began to pace.  "I just had a talk with Buffy and she told me… well, she told me about… that *place*.  Rupert, she told me…. Dear God…. She told me all of it, both her... captivity, for lack of a better term… and after her rescue.  It… Rupert, is there any reason that Buffy needs to be here as the Slayer?  Is there any reason why Faith can't handle things?"

"Well, uh…. Technically, no.  The Slayer line – the succession – runs through Faith now so Faith *should* be handling things but still, Joyce… the fact remains that Buffy is *a* Slayer and will have a need to slay.  There's no way out of that–"

"But still, with Faith here….  I mean, can't Faith be the Slayer, singular?  Buffy was alone until...."

"Well, yes.  But still, that will not make the urge go away.  She will still–"

"Rupert, I'm not asking because I want her to go off to college and get married and have a family.  I do… I want her to have all those things, but I'm asking… I'm asking because…." Joyce took a deep breath before continuing.  "Buffy….  Rupert, Buffy and Angel have never had my blessing because of their differences: age; life, well, "status" for lack of a term… so many reasons.  But in Bethara… she said there are no differences.  She– I was in complete denial to think she will ever be the girl she was when she was taken.  I doubt she was even the girl I believed her to be *when* she was taken.  I just– Rupert, when she spoke about their life together there….  She was happy there… happy in her life with him.  I just– I… He makes her happy and in Bethara… they can actually have a life together.  In my heart, I think they are staying on Earth out of duty – to me, to you – duties that are misplaced in my case and no longer necessary in yours.  Faith– you say Faith is capable and, well–"

"Joyce… Joyce, I have to say that yes, everything you are saying makes sense but are you sure?  This is your daughter.  Are you sure?  Can you… give her up?"

Joyce stopped moving and wiped the tears from her eyes.  "I want to say no but really, Rupert, her life…. her life here is over.  The Watchers took that away from her but… she can have a life there.  I'm not sure if Angel will want to move there permanently but if he is amenable and if she wanted to go, I'd let her go.  I have to."

Rupert reached into his pocket and handed her his handkerchief. 

"You're doing this a lot these days, aren't you?" Joyce joked tearfully, holding up his handkerchief.

"It seems so," he said, as he wrapped his arms around her and let her cry into his shoulder.  "It will be okay, Joyce.  It will be okay."

***

"Joyce.…"

Angel stood in the shadows of his doorway in slightly wrinkled black linen pants and a black T-shirt, his hair clearly mussed from sleeping. 

"I'm– I'm sorry to have woken you, Angel.  Could I come in?"

Angel shook his head as if to clear it.  "Of course.  Please excuse my manners," he responded, obviously embarrassed.  Joyce dismissed his concerns with a wave of her hand. 

"No, excuse my own.  I would have called but I didn't know your number.  Um, shall we sit?"

Again, Angel looked embarrassed, nodded and followed her into the living space.  "Of course.  I– What can I help you with, Joyce?"

Sitting herself on the couch opposite him, she was struck by the kind, concerned – if wary - look in his eyes.  After all the grief she'd given him, he seemed to genuinely care about why she was there…. Yet, it made sense.  He loved her daughter.

"I had a long talk with Buffy this morning.  About her, uh, experiences in Bethara.  I had–  Well, I had my suspicions, but I had no idea how bad things were," she said, taking a deep breath and wiping her sudden tears from her eyes.  "I… Angel, I wanted to apologize for how I've treated you over the past few months.  You are a good man – Buffy, told me all you did to get her back to me safely, even denying your own happiness with her.  I'm not sure, honestly, if it were me, if I'd be so generous."

Angel nodded, sheepishly, and looked like he was going to say something yet remained silent.

"I came here to ask you something.  About your life in Bethara, after the rescue.  Why… Why did you come back?  Really?"

Angel studied her for a moment.  "Well, I… I knew you were worried and wanted Buffy home to be with you.  Also, when I left to go find her, at that point, I didn't know about Faith.  None of us did.  I thought when Kendra died that the Slayer line ran through Buffy again and I knew…. I knew that as soon as the demon population realized there was no Slayer, things were going to get very ugly here and around the world.  Buffy's slaying provides a necessary balance, so, it was important to get her back here."

"Yes, but she's not the only Slayer anymore."

"No.  No, she isn't," Angel said, frowning.

"So, why don't you leave?"

"Excuse me?  Joyce, I told Buffy I wouldn't leave her and I won't."  Angel stood and agitatedly began to pace the room.  "Joyce, I'm sorry if you think–" 

"Angel," Joyce said, standing and placing a hand on his arm to stop him.  "You misunderstand me.  I meant why don't *you* leave… both of you?  Why don't you go back?  I mean, if Faith is the Slayer here and Mr. Giles has confirmed that Faith *is* the official Slayer or whatever you want to call her – why don't you go back?"

"Joyce," Angel said, quietly, looking at her with imploring eyes.  "I - It was never my intention to take her away from you.  I'd never do that.  And, Buffy….  You're not wrong.  I agree with you that Buffy should have as normal a life as possible.  She deserves all the things you wanted for her:  sunlight, a real man who can love her, children.  She deserves whatever she wants for herself.  I've never disagreed with you on that," he said, rubbing his forehead.  Defeated, he sank back down to the couch.

"But… I'm sorry.  In Bethara, aren't you practically human?  Buffy said that you could be in the sunlight and that you can, uh, make love.  Did I misunderstand her?"

"Well, no.  No, I can do those things there.  But I'm still a demon.  Granted, I'm almost human and the demon isn't as present in me… its traits pretty much only leave me with the strength I have now, strength I've used to protect her… but I am still a demon.  And… I don't know if I can give her children.  I.…  We, well, we, uh…."

"Had a lot of sex?  I gathered as much.  Angel, not to be overly personal, but Hank and I tried for three years before I became pregnant with Buffy. Sometimes it's quick, sometimes it isn't.  Are you *sure* you can't give her children there?"

"Well, no.  I'm not but….  Well, no I'm not.  But, in any case, it's more that that.  Bethara…. I don't know what Buffy told you but it's very different from here.  In the Tar, I was - for all I know, still am - ruler and that afforded Buffy a lot of freedom but she still has to be guarded.  Women there…. It's a primitive, patriarchal society, Joyce.  It's very…. Buffy would always have to be under guard there and our children – if we had daughters – would have the same limitations.  Yes, Buffy and I can be together but it's not –"

"So, why do you stay?"

"Joyce, what are you getting at, exactly?" Angel said, obviously frustrated.  "I don't mean to be rude but…."

"Angel, please.  I'm not testing you or trying to be obtuse.  I was perhaps unintentionally obtuse in the past but….  All I ever wanted for Buffy, ultimately, was for her to be happy.  For me, it was, for better or worse, based on what's given me happiness in my own life:  my education, my family, being in love.  A doorpost could see that you provide her with all of those things.  If you were a human man, I would be ecstatic that she'd found you.  You clearly love her and she is crazy about you…. I couldn't ask for a better son-in-law."

"But–"

"No 'but'.  I mean, yes, 'but' – you are not human, but it sounds like in Bethara, the fact that you aren't human – technically – is a complete non-issue.  Angel, everything I ever wanted for her, you can actually give her there.  And if you want to deny her access to that life due to a non-evolved society in terms of women's rights, Buffy isn't the girl who was kidnapped anymore.  To her, sadly, the rights she enjoyed when living with you I suspect seemed amazingly, well, broad to her.  I just don't think the excuses you give are real… deal-breakers.  Not anymore."

"Joyce, still.  I'm not–"

Joyce laughed.  "You know, you may have been gone a long time but to me this whole debacle started just shy of three months ago.  Shortly before you left, I overheard Buffy telling Willow you had a 'worthiness problem'.  I'm starting to understand what she meant."

"Excuse me?" Angel said, angrily.

"Angel, you two have the opportunity to have everything you've each ever wanted.  The question is:  Are you going to allow her the happiness she wants if it means you get to be happy too?"

*** 

When Joyce returned home, she found Buffy sound asleep and wrapped around Dawn.  Her daughter, her beautiful daughter…. It was hard to believe she'd been living almost as many days as Joyce herself.  She still looked like a teen physically, but, even in sleep, she looked every inch her 40 years.  She was painfully thin – even thinner than when she'd initially returned – with dark smudges under her eyes.  Still beautiful but looking oh, so tired.

Still, Joyce drank in the sight of her daughter, in 'her' house, in 'her' own bed.  Her beautiful baby whose happiness meant more than anything in the world.

She hoped she wasn't making a mistake. 

***

"You right, Joyce.  Dis very good.  I see why I like before," Buffy enthused, trying to encourage Dawn to try the Chicken Parmigiana her mother had made for dinner. 

Dawn frowned at Buffy and took a tiny bite only to make a face and put her fork down. 

"Dawn, honey?  It's okay if you don't like it," Joyce said kindly.  "We have ice cream for dessert and I'm *sure* you'll like that.  Buffy, I think I hear a knock at the front door.  Can you go?"

Buffy had sensed him three minutes earlier but didn't want to be rude and just leave the table.  Bouncing toward the door, she threw it open and flew into Angel's arms.

"Hey!" he said, laughing.  "You miss me?"

"Yes!" she said, grabbing him in a hug.  "Yes!"

He held her tightly for a moment and then pulled away and stood there smiling at her, brushing her hair behind her ears.  "Honey, can I come in?"

"Oh! Sorry.  Come in, Engel."

"Joyce!" he addressed her mother who was walking down the hall to meet him.  Joyce pulled Angel into a hug as Buffy looked on shocked.  "It's good to see you."  Pulling away, he was bowled over when Dawn launched herself into his arms, ready for her own hug.  "Hey, Dawn."

Dawn smiled beatifically at him. 

"Apparently, we're *all* happy to see you, Angel," Joyce joked.  "We were just going to have some ice cream.  Why don't you two…. You must want to talk a little.  Dawn and I will be in the kitchen if you need us.  Come on, Dawn.  *Ice Cream*!" she said, tickling Dawn back into the kitchen.

Buffy looked warily back at Angel who was holding the door open for her.  "Swing?"

Buffy decided to let her mother's bizarre behavior go for the moment and nodded and followed him outside and sat beside him on the porch swing.  They rocked in silence for a few minutes, just holding hands, enjoying the night air.

"Buffy, are you happy?"

Buffy looked at him fully.  "What you mean?  I'm happy now you here," she said.  "You happy?"

Angel smiled down at her.  "I'm always happy with you," he said, pulling her closer to him.  "I wanted to talk to you about that, though."

He explained about Joyce's visit and how she'd suggested they return to Bethara.  Buffy was completely shocked. 

"She said dis?  Dat we could go back?"

"She did.  What do you think?  We don't have to go, Buffy.  If you want to stay here, we can stay here.  I'll be okay with whatever you choose.  I know it is a major decision.  You want to think about it for a few days?  Talk to you Mom or Willow about it?  Or Giles?"

Buffy turned fully to look at him and rested a hand on his cheek.  "I– I don' need to think.  I know already what I want.  I know dat de past in de Pava was bad.  But Bet'ara is my home.  Bet'ara is de place I fell in love wit' you again.  Despite ever'thing, it's what I want."

Angel pulled her into a punishingly tight hug.  "It's what I want too.  I miss you, Buffy.  And I want us to be together.  I love you, more than my own life."

"I love you, too, Engel." 

He held her for a moment and said, "I should go talk to Giles.  Your mother already knows our decision… or she suspects.  I'll come by later and tell you what he says.  I love you, Buffy," he said, pulling her close and kissing her soundly for the first time in weeks.

Standing, they smiled at each other and he turned to leave.  "Engel, wait!  We… we haf to take Dawn wit' us.  I can' leave her.  I… I can't." 

He nodded and briefly kissed her hand and turned to leave.

***

Three days later, Buffy stood in her brown robe, shifting anxiously from foot to foot, staring at the Hellmouth, eagerly awaiting Angel's return from the Tar.  At Giles' urging and against Buffy's wishes, Angel had gone through earlier that afternoon to see what had happened to his kingdom during his absence.  Borat and Darn had been left in charge of his lands but that had been, Giles and Angel had calculated, almost thirty years earlier.  A lot could happen in thirty years.  Since Angel's departure, Giles had been driving her crazy... constantly calculating and announcing exactly how long Angel had been gone:  two days, two weeks, two months.  With each announcement, Buffy's anxiety grew.  She wanted to alternately kill Giles for worrying her and kill Angel for taking so long.  What was taking him so long? 

Finally, a loud crackling noise filled the room, the portal shimmered to life and Angel plunged through.  He was tan and a good deal thinner, but didn't seem any more the worse for wear.

"Sorry, love," he said, immediately crossing to her and, mindful of his sword, he pulled her close and held her tightly.  "The Meior had decided to annex the Tar for himself.  My parn and I... we disabused him of that notion."

"Dri tara'na?" she asked, pulling away from him and searching his face, his body, for injuries.

Using a finger, he lifted her chin and kissed her.  "I'm fine, love, and all is well.  But we should go quickly.  I don't want to leave them alone for too long.  The Meior.... I wouldn't put it past him to try again."

She nodded and, as Angel gathered Dawn, she hefted her pack onto her back.  It was considerably larger than the one she'd arrived with; Willow had helped Buffy pack and, despite her slayer strength, Buffy was feeling weighed down by her belongings.   In addition to her clothing and journal, she had an assortment of jewelry Willow said Angel'd given her, a locket with pictures of her mother and father, a pink pig her mother had said was a favorite, her old Sunnydale journals, and photos of all of her friends.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy looked around at each member of the group – Giles, Faith, Olivia, Willow, Oz, Xander, Cordelia, Joyce.  She knew that, despite not knowing them, they all cared deeply about her and she found that during the brief time she'd known them, she'd grown to care about them too.  She was going to miss them.

"Thank you, everyone.  For you help and support and for accepting dat we need to go back.  I am glad… I am lucky you are our friends… our family.  I am doubly blessed to haf dat and my life in Bet'ara.  We come and visit soon.  I promise dat."

Seeing Willow struggling, and failing, not to cry, she crossed over to her and touched her cheek.  "Willow, I want to say… When I come here, I not remember you but now I know what you say is true.  You are my best friend.  I can feel dat.  Thank you for helping me wit' my English and for giving me de vampire books," Buffy continued, laughing.  "And for caring about me when you did not know me.  I will always love you for dat."  Buffy pulled Willow into a hug and held her tightly. 

"I'll miss you, Buffy.  You are my best friend and always will be.  Please come back and visit," Willow said, and then whispering, continued.  "I have to tell you all about Oz and me, so you have to come back."

Buffy pulled away and smiled devilishly at Willow.  "Absolute-elly!"

Angel came up behind Buffy and placed his hands on her shoulders.  "We should get going."  Buffy leaned back into him and nodded, taking one last look at the group.  Kissing her shoulder, Angel pulled away for a moment and turned to Joyce and Willow, who now stood holding hands.  Angel pulled two pieces of paper out of his pack and handed one to each of them.

"Don't come through alone.  Bring someone – Xander, Giles, Oz – it has to be a male – and come during the day.  Bethara is about 5 hours ahead timing wise – plan for it.  Ask for the Tar – you both will always be welcome in our home.  It would mean the world if you'd visit, Willow.  And, Joyce…."

Joyce smiled widely.  "Thank you, Angel.  It meant the world to be asked and well, you'll see me before you know it."

 Buffy ran to Joyce and hugged her hard and kissed her cheek.  "Thank you.  Mom." 

Angel and Buffy stepped back and each put a hand on Dawn's shoulder.    

"Prkta nah ta'ehk funul prktoi ya a'she orq na tak…."

***

Epilogue

He'd built her a swing.  Like the one her mother had.  During the half year that was the Warm Season, she'd spend each afternoon in the gardens of the Castle, rocking in her swing, journal in hand… relaxing and breathing in the clear, warm air as the day turned to evening.  Sitting and writing… and remembering. 

So many horrible memories and so many memories lost.  So much torture that she longed to forget but couldn't, so she was writing that part of her life in her journal so that, in the future, people would know what life had been like in the Pava… before it had become annexed to the Tar.  Today, it was forbidden for Pavana mates to be beaten or caged for any reason.  The punishment for breaking this law was death.   Many Masters had not taken Angel's decree seriously, had abused their mates, and had been tortured to death as a result of it.

So be it.

She also wrote about her life after Angel had come for her.  Her good memories.  Of life with her family in the Tar… Angel, Dawn and her mother.  And memories of her other family who lived on Earth. 

She called her book: My life as Bryn.

To be a Bryn meant many things:  Most valuable slave… favored object.  In some cases, it meant valuable asset.  To the Pava, it meant all of those things.

When the Tarana women called her Bryn now, it was for another meaning:  Treasure. 

When they'd initially returned, she'd taken steps to get to know better the Tarana women who lived within the walls of the Fortress.  It was a small community, consisting mostly of craftsman and artisans as well as Angel's pran's families and others who worked within the Castle.  As the women grew more comfortable with Buffy, they'd confided often about the change in the Tar and also the subsequent change in their own Masters' treatment of them.  Angel was apparently ruling the Tar as he had years before when he'd first begun his reign, but according to the women, he'd changed since he'd mated Buffy.  Now, he was much more social and friendly, taking time to talk to the men, hear their concerns, counsel them.  The women believed it was Angel's input – under Buffy's influence – that had led their Masters to granting more freedoms.   Buffy understood their gratitude.  Her greatest treasure – her Bryn – was Angel, the man who'd liberated her.  Who'd given her the gift of love, of life.

They'd been back for five months when her mother and Giles had arrived for a visit.  It was strange:  To her mother and Giles, they'd only been gone overnight but to Buffy….  She'd really missed her mother.  She'd only known her briefly but she felt a strong connection with her.  For her mother's part, she'd planned only to visit but having seen her daughter again and seen that Buffy wanted her, she'd decided to stay.  After returning to Earth for several Betharan months to sign over her affairs to Giles, she had arrived with Giles and Willow in tow, carting as many of her things as they could carry. 

The Fortress and its grounds were beautiful that time of year.  Like most Tarana, they'd moved their sleeping quarters outside.  Communing with nature was an important part of the Tarana culture and sleeping outside had the added benefit of being much cooler than the Castle.  Dawn had completely embraced the change of scene.  Buffy suspected it was because she got to sleep with her beloved animals.  The wildlife seemed to be attracted to Dawn, to look to her as their leader.  Angel suspected it was her magic.  Her intelligence and spirit did seem to be suited to caring for and playing with the animals.  She would spend hours with them, quiet, dreamy and smiling. 

While Dawn and Joyce slept in a bowery in the Qatra'at section of the gardens, Angel and Buffy slept miles in the other direction… under a cape of hysocs.  She loved the intoxicating fragrance of the blooms… and loved what the aphrodisiac did to her body.  Each morning she'd awaken to Angel's warm hands stroking her body, tantalizing her, the scent of the morning blooms filling the air, making her body, her blood, sensitive and alive.  He'd kiss her naked skin, suckle at her breasts, run his tongue over her belly, her clit… his naked skin rubbing against hers as he crawled up her body, kissing her neck, licking and sucking his mark… his half-closed eyes meeting hers as he pushed into her … as he thrust deeply… slowly… made her feel every inch of him inside her… as he reached down and massaged her clit … slowly, slowly… until she was screaming in ecstasy.   

Spent, they would lay, blissful and silent, holding each other as the rest of the forest awakened, the music of the birds and other beasts announcing the new day, hoping the goddess of fertility would bless them with the gift of a child.  She hoped her nausea of the prior few weeks was a sign of just that.

He drew her into his arms as he joined her on her swing, draping a light blanket around her shoulders.  "Feeling better?" 

She smiled brilliantly.   "I'm perfect.  Now you're here." 

He smiled and hugged her, and rest his head on top of hers.  She sighed and relaxed fully into him, looking out at the gardens – at their world – as the second sun began to set, the sky filling with deep greens and purples.  Joyce sat under a tree, in front of an easel, painting a landscape with watercolors, her brow furrowed in concentration.  Dawn was running and chasing a butterfly. 

Angel kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer.

It was a perfect world. 

End.

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