Trust

by Rob Sorenson

Chapter Twenty

*******East Los Angeles, CA 8:00PM*******

Somewhere along these crowded streets lived citizens whose ancestors created the second largest city in the United States.

They hadn’t always been here, of course…nor were they the very first. As far as it could be determined, the Gabrielino Indians held that distinction. Still, the modern civilization could only be credited to those of Spanish origin in 1781. Sixty-five years and two flag changes later, LA became a territory of the United States by force. Much of the blood spilled in that conflict still lay beneath the streets where two Vampire Slayers were now walking with two creatures they’d been created to kill.

The treaty signed between the U.S. and Mexico guaranteed a dignified transition of citizenship, with bilingual education, fair government and a protection of land holdings.

Right. Those always worked out well.

The second wave of the American invasion was even more savage than the first, virtually erasing the landscape as it had been. Fueled by the desire to profit from Southern California’s rich resources (the pretty name for it was Manifest Destiny), the Easterners turned the Mexicans - who had literally built this city – into virtual strangers in their own homeland.

Slowly but surely, the city’s founders were, for all purposes, exiled into the wilderness; in this case that was the eastern side of the Los Angeles River. As one would expect, this area quickly developed into a bustling city in itself. In the coming decades it would incorporate immigrants from all over the globe. African-Americans, Chinese, Japanese and Jews all called East L.A. home in the 1880’s-1940’s.

The outbreak of World War II did a great deal to change the landscape yet again. The Japanese were the first to go, whisked away to internment camps throughout the state. Never did they return in the same numbers. After the war, there was an even stronger migration of Mexican immigrants, and a movment grew among the other ethnic groups to relocate and flourish in a new setting. This was essentially the end of the multi-national era in East Los Angeles; by the mid-60’s, the city had become the largest Hispanic community in the nation. Only Mexico City itself had a larger population of Mexican descent.

Buffy couldn’t help but to tilt her head from left to right; if it could be said that a city had a soundtrack, this one had it. Music floated through the night from various sources. Traditional Tejano, Latin Jazz, Hip-Hop and Salsa all could be heard from various windows. Sometimes both played at opposite sides of the street, forming a chaotic harmony that somehow felt as if it belonged together.

Even more prevalent was the sprinkling of graffiti, proclaiming views on all myriad of subjects, from the political to the artistic. Some had been defaced with gang slogans of various types. Even in the dark of night, though, Buffy could see her original judgment of graffiti was far too limited. Majestic, meticulously detailed murals adorned the sides of many structures, public and private.

“They didn’t think their own history and culture was being properly taught or respected. This was one of the ways they expressed that feeling.”

Buffy turned in surprise, not realizing Angel had been watching her. “Some of them are beautiful.”

He nodded his agreement. “Eventually it became a government program. There’s one on the side of the Public Library on Cesar Chavez Boulevard, and a huge one on an old concrete river bottom the Army Corps of Engineers built to stop seasonal flooding. It’s called the Great Wall of Los Angeles. Stretches over a mile long.”

“Wow. That must have taken years.”

Angel nodded again. “My personal favorite is one called ‘Mi Abuelita.’ It’s on a bandshell in Hollenbeck Park.”

Buffy frowned. “What’s it mean?”

“My Grandmother. Looks beautiful in the sunlight.”

Buffy and Spike gave him a look. Angel shrugged. “I’ve seen pictures.”

The three of them were walking together; Faith was roughly five yards ahead of them as they made their way down the street. Buffy spoke in a slightly louder voice.

“So where are we headed?”

“Shelter.”

“You…um…worked there?”

Spike and Angel traded a glance as Faith sighed heavily. “No. Money ain’t exactly thrown around in the place. Got myself some food there once in a while.”

“Oh. What’s the plan?”

Faith responded without turning around. “Lady that ran the place when I was here pretty much knew the neighborhood upside down. Best place to start, I figure.”

Buffy kept looking around, trying not to focus on the eyes of people who were stopping in their tracks to stare at the well-dressed little blonde woman.

“So…where did you-“

She trailed off when Faith stopped abruptly, looking up at the sky for a moment before turning around.

“This ain’t gonna be a biography, ok? You wanna ask about stuff I’m doin’ to find these vamps, that’s cool. Not getting into the rest.”

Buffy held up her hands. “Ok. Sorry.”

Faith’s eyes softened for the briefest moment. “Don’t be sorry. Just watch my back…and let me do the talkin’ when we get there, ‘kay?” She turned back around and resumed walking.

Buffy felt a little annoyed. “You know, I have a little LA experience.”

Faith said nothing.

“I grew up here. Well, I didn’t actually grow up, but…once I came here when I was 17. I was totally by myself.”

“When was this?” Spike asked.

“Right after…” Buffy winced. “After you first left Sunnydale.”

Angel looked away. Spike swallowed hard. Faith, oblivious of the reactions taking place behind her, spoke with a slightly condescending tone.

“Was it this part of town?”

“Well…no, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable-“

“You had your Slayer powers too, right? Bet you managed just fine.”

Buffy didn’t get a chance to respond as Faith made a quick left and ascended a trio of pockmarked concrete steps, knocking firmly on the door. Upon opening, Faith spoke quietly.

“Donde esta Carmen?”

The man who had opened the door looked Faith up and down. She took a step back and opened her jacket. Angel and Spike picked up on her cue and opened theirs as well.

“No este asustado. No li lastimaremos.”

After a moment, the door opened. “Cocina,” was all he said.

Faith nodded. “Gracia.” She turned to her companions. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Buffy asked.

“Kitchen,” Spike said quietly. He grinned slightly at Buffy’s expression. “Picked up a word here and there.”

“Ok. What else did she say?”

“That we wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Angel whispered as they moved through the building. Buffy frowned. Great. Everyone understands Spanish but me.

She had to wrinkle her nose slightly as they passed through a large room that featured a row of bunk beds on each side. A few of the guests clearly hadn’t been acquainted with showers in some time, and the odor of stale alcohol did nothing to improve the mix. There was snores coming from individual bunks, and a woman of indeterminate age was bobbing her head up and down, speaking conversationally to no one in particular. Even with the myriad of sound, though, the room felt eerily quiet to Buffy.

It had only been good fortune that she’d carried just enough cash to pay the first week’s rent after she ran away from Sunnydale. Otherwise… she shuddered involuntarily. Spike picked up on the gesture and whispered.

“There’re worse alternatives, luv.”

She merely nodded, desperately willing herself not to stare.

Angel moved slightly closer to Faith. The dark-haired Slayer spoke in a faraway voice.

“Didn’t know if she’d be…still around.”

“She’s old?”

Faith glanced at him.

“Round here, age has nothin’ to do with it.”

*****The Roof of the Hyperion Hotel*****

“Ok, hold the rope like this.”

Dawn and Fred complied.

“Perfect. Ok, now watch me.”

Riley made his way down the wall with carefully assured movements. After a few minutes, he rejoined the two women on the roof.

“Ok, that’s how it’s done. Who wants to go with me on the next run?”

Dawn stepped up. “I’ll go.”

Wesley, who was watching along with Gunn, spoke nervously. “Dawn, are you quite-“

“Would you stop?” Dawn asked with a grin. “I’ve got it.”

He didn’t smile back. “If you’re certain.”

“Don’t worry,” Riley assured him. “I’ll be right there with her.”

Dawn turned away from them before rolling her eyes, walking toward the edge. “Show me again how to set up this harness.”

***********************************

The shelter had a kitchen not entirely unlike the Hyperion, though it had a considerably more lived-in appearance. Large metal pots were simmering on each of the eight stove burners; Spike and Angel had picked up the savory smell of chicken soup before they’d even entered the building.

An elderly lady was seated at an oak table with her back to them, chopping onions and carrots with practiced efficiency. Faith stopped for a moment once they went through the swinging double doors, every instinct within her advising her to retreat. If the others hadn’t been there with her, she probably would have.

Back in the hotel, talking about the others had pretty much royally sucked, but talking never really hurt anyone. Seeing Carmen after all that had happened…that made it real. Faith was half turned around when the old woman spoke in a voice forged in bourbon and Winstons.

“No es listo todavia. Vaya se sientan en el cuarto que-“ Carmen broke off when she turned her head. The knife clattered to the floor.

“Faith?”

There was a long silence. Faith just nodded. The elderly woman winced as she pushed back, placing her hand on the table for support.

“Faith…corazon…”

She didn’t get a chance to move any further; Faith was across the room and kneeling.

“Don’t try to move around so much. You might…spill the veggies, ya know?”

Carmen put her wrinkled hands on Faith’s cheeks. “Pense que usted era muerto.”

Buffy gave Spike a nudge. “She thought she was dead,” he whispered.

Faith swallowed hard, finding it hard to speak. Fuckin’ onions. Finally she just shook her head with a little smile. Carmen continued to stroke her cheeks.

“Que le sucedio?”

The Slayer shrugged, finally finding words. “Encontre una salida.”

“Lady wanted to know what happened. Faith said she found a way out.”

The lady turned to the others in the room, eyebrows narrowing slightly.

“Quienes son estas gente?”

Faith turned to them, nodding as she spoke.

“Mis amigos Buffy, Angel, y…Guillermo.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Ok, got most of that.”

Spike gave Faith a little grin. “William in Spanish.”

Buffy couldn’t help but smile a little at that herself as Faith turned her attention back to the old woman.

“Carmen, no tengo tiempo que explicar. Necesitamos su ayuda.”

“She doesn’t have time to explain. Needs her help.”

Carmen frowned slightly. “Would this be easier if we spoke English? The bilingual echo is making my hearing aid whistle.”

Faith nodded with a grin. “Yeah, it’d probably help me too. Been a while.”

Carmen motioned for the others to join her at the table. They complied as she spoke in a plaintive tone.

“I wonder if one of you could do me a favor and keep slicing these vegetables? I have to feed fifty people in the next half an hour, and the cooks haven’t made it in yet. Even worse, my arthritis is starting to give me trouble. Any of you good with a knife?”

Four different sets of hands reached for the cutting board, causing the old woman to bark out a throaty laugh.

“Sorry. I only have one to give. I could use people like you more often. Forgive an old lady for being traditional, but I’ll choose…what was your name again?”

“I’m Buffy.”

“Ah. So the hearing aid DID work, then. Don’t hurt yourself, child. My insurance isn’t paid up.”

“I’ll manage.”

Quickly, a rapid whok whok whok began to resound as Buffy went to work. Carmen turned back to Faith, shaking her head.

“I can’t believe…you were just gone. Usually I would hear…if you’d…” her voice broke again. Faith took her hand.

“I know. Look, the reason I’m here is the disappearances that have been happening around here recently.”

Carmen frowned. “You’re with the police now?”

Faith almost laughed.

“No. I work with…a private investigator. We check into stuff that cops don’t, helping people out when we can. Have you seen or heard anything about the killings?”

Carmen’s lip curled. “Pimps. Can’t say I’m too broken up over them.”

“Yeah, me neither…but the girls are disappearing too. And not like I did.”

“How do you know?”

Faith took a deep breath.

“I just do. Look, I don’t mean to push, but we’re sort of in a hurry-“

“Buffy, I think that’s plenty. We have to make these last a week. Dios mio, you work quickly.”

The blonde Slayer grinned sheepishly. “I sorta get into cutting stuff. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize for efficiency. You do the work of three people. I hate to ask, but if you could distribute equal portions into each pot-“

“Of course. Ummm…Spike, could you grab a couple of these?”

“Yeah.”

Carmen gave Faith a raised eyebrow. “Spike?”

“Old nickname. So have you heard or seen anything?”

The old woman chuckled. “You never did have any patience. I need a moment to think, ok?”

There was a long silence, only broken by the sound of Spike stirring soup.

“You’re a quiet one.” Angel looked up, surprised when he realized Carmen was addressing him.

“I talk when I have something to say.”

“Smart man.” She looked back to Faith. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have much I can say either. I knew Jelly Siberio…I assume you know he’s one of the dead pimps.”

“Yes,” Angel put in. “He was the first victim that got our attention.”

“That boy’s death was a mercy…to himself and others. I’ll say this much: his could have been a gang hit. He was working different neighborhoods.”

Faith shook her head. “We thought of that, but there are too many other unconnected guys being killed…honestly, though, it’s the girls I’m worried about. You’re sure you haven’t heard anything?”

“Nada. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

“That’s ok. There is one more thing you could help me with.”

“All right?”

Faith took a deep breath before looking down at the table. “Do you know where I can find Jimmy?”

Carmen’s face turned to stone. “Why?”

Faith couldn’t meet her eyes.

“I’m…thinkin’ he might be a good guy to talk to.”

“To…talk to?”

“About the investigation, yeah.”

The old woman shook her head.

“How could you? After all he-“

Faith spoke sharply. “It ain’t gonna be for fun. This is part of what I do now. You know where he is or not?”

After a long pause, Carmen shook her head again and spoke softly. “The last time I saw him, you were here with me.”

Faith sat back in her chair, running a hand over her face. “Yeah. Ok.” She stood abruptly. “Didn’t mean to bother you. Guess we should-“

Carmen took her hand. “No era su averia.”

Again Faith had to swallow hard. “Right.” She barely turned to the others as she walked out quickly. “Let’s go.”

Buffy exchanged startled looks with Spike and Angel. “Um, ok. The soup should be ready in just a minute.” She addressed Carmen. “Do you need us to help with anything else?”

The woman activated the reverse button on her wheelchair. “No, thank you. My helpers should be here any time. If they don’t make it, we’ll have soup buffet style. You go on ahead.”

Angel hesitated. “Are you sure?”

Carmen’s lower lip trembled. “Please don’t let her leave alone.”

Buffy shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. “Thank you for your time.”

“Thank you for making the soup. Now go.”

As Buffy, Angel and Spike walked out the kitchen, the whirring sound of the wheelchair went off again as Carmen headed for the cupboard to fetch some bowls. As they retraced their steps through the large bedroom, the Slayer looked at Spike.

“What did she say to make Faith take off like that?”

“She said it wasn’t her fault.”

*******************************

Fred was breathing heavily as her feet touched the earth. “Ok. We’re alive. That’s a good thing.”

Riley patted her on the back. “That was great. Not so hard once you get past the height thing, is it?”

“They said that on the Hindenberg, too.”

Dawn held out her palm. “Come on, high five! We did it!”

Fred managed a little grin as she managed to slap her hand. “I guess it wasn’t all that bad.”

“I’m ready,” Dawn declared enthusiastically.

“You are.” Riley agreed. “Think Fred might need another couple of runs before she’s totally comfortable.”

Fred winced. “I probably should warn you up front that ‘comfortable’ may not be a realistic goal.”

“You’ve done it once now. Only gets easier from here.”

“That’s what they told Amelia Earhart.”

Riley sighed. “Dawn, you want to go again?”

Dawn was unfastening her harness. “No, I’ve pretty much got this part. There’s something else I need to take care of.”

“At ten o’clock at night?”

They began to walk back into the hotel. “Best possible time. You guys go ahead. And Fred…”

“Yes?”

“We’re going to be fine.”

“I know.”

They exchanged smiles as they separated. Dawn poked her head behind the front desk, finding Cordelia clicking away on her mouse..

“You know where Wes is?”

Cordy quirked an eyebrow her way.

“Probably on the roof waiting for you. Seems pretty nervous.”

Dawn sighed. “Thanks.” She bounded up the stairs.

*******************************

Buffy had to jog to catch Faith, just managing to spot her moving quickly out of the shelter.

“Faith! What’s wrong?”

“Wasted our fuckin’ time.”

“Hey, the night’s young. What do we try next?”

“I’m thinkin’ sleep.”

“But…we just started-“

“This was a bad idea. You just saw everybody I knew…and she couldn’t tell us jack.”

Angel and Spike had managed to hustle behind them.

“What’s going on?” Angel asked.

“Nothin’. We’re done.”

Spike frowned. “Came a long way. Might not hurt to check around a bit more. Where do the workin’ girls hang out around here?”

Faith turned on him. “Look, I tried, ok? It’s been seven years.”

“Not that long, really.”

“Maybe not to you. For some people it’s an eter-“

“DEME SU DINERO!!”

The man had leaped out of the alley in front of them with his knife extended. Faith took a half-step back, cursing inwardly for losing focus. She held out her hands.

“Tomelo facil. I don’t have much, but it’s yours.”

Faith reached into her pocket, pulling out the forty dollars she’d stuffed in there before leaving Sunnydale.

“Just be cool, ok?”

Sweat poured in rivulets down the mugger’s cheeks. He waved the knife in the others’ direction.

“PRIDA! CADA UNO!”

“Sorry friend,” Spike said. “Not in the mood to share my cash with blokes who’ll smoke it all away.”

“Put the knife down,” Angel said softly. “If you want something to eat, we can help-“

It didn’t seem possible, but the mugger’s eyes widened even further.

“GIMME YOUR FUCKIN’ MONEY OR THIS BITCH-“

Faith had his wrist before he could say another word.

“Deje el cuchillo ir.”

He swung his left fist, which Faith caught without taking her eyes off him. She repeated herself, this time in English.

“Let the knife go.”

He shuddered in effort against her, but Faith simply held him still.

“It ain’t worth it, man.”

The switchblade clattered to the concrete; slowly his emaciated form began to slowly slide down after it. Faith grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Whoa. Easy.” She looked around for a moment, then practically carried him to a bench near the bus stop. “You really do need to get some food in you.”

He focused on Faith with glassy eyes, murmuring through chattering teeth.

“Please…please don’t hurt me-“

Faith’s eyes blinked. Don’t…please don’t. Please stop!! I’ll do anything!!

“Are you ok?” A disembodied voice said.

PLEASE!!

Faith leaped from the bench, breathing heavily as their would-be assailant slumped into unconsciousness. Angel ignored him, moving toward Faith cautiously.

“Faith?”

She snapped out of her reverie, staring at Angel with widened eyes.

“This was your idea, you son of a bitch.”

He recoiled slightly, eyes reflecting hurt.

“What are you-“

“I’m outta here.”

She turned and walked away before Angel could say any more. He started moving to follow, but Buffy stilled him.

“I’ll catch up with her.” She nodded at the bench. “You two should take this guy into the shelter. Anyway, I’ll bet that old lady can tell you where to find the…right hangouts to investigate.”

The vampires exchanged looks. Buffy shrugged.

“I agree with you guys; there’s more to be found here. The two of us will take a cab home. Ok?”

Spike took her hand. “Be careful.”

Buffy gave him an annoyed look. He raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the spot where her sister Slayer was rapidly disappearing into the night.

“Meant with Faith. Somethin’s got her spooked.”

“We’ll be fine. Call me if you run into trouble.”

Spike grinned slightly and pointed to himself. “Trouble? Moi?”

Buffy gave him a quick kiss. “I’ll sleep with the phone next to my ear.”

*********************************

Dawn found Wesley sitting on the roof. “Hey. I’m done practicing.”

“Oh. Well then…do you wish to call it a night?”

“Nope. Not tired at all. In fact, this would be a perfect time for phase 2.”

He frowned slightly. “Phase 2?”

“Of the plan.”

“Oh. When did we create phases?”

“Every cool plan has phases. Don’t you ever watch tv?”

“Until you came along, the History Channel. Since then, something titled The Big Fat Obnoxious Millionaire.”

“Think you’re getting those mixed up.”

“Indeed? I could’ve sworn I’d just described Anna Nicole perfectly.”

Dawn’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God. That was actually funny.”

He grinned at her. “Perhaps it’s the altitude.”

She tilted her head and leaned toward him for a kiss. “So…ready to go, funny guy?”

Wes made a show of looking over both shoulders. “Xander is here?”

Dawn’s smile faded a bit. “No.” Wesley ran the back of his hand across her cheek.

“What’s wrong?”

“He can’t do this.” She motioned around them.

“Can’t…”

“The roof.”

Wesley’s face cleared in understanding. “Oh. I’d wondered why he didn’t come up to help.”

There was a beat of silence. Dawn took his hand.

“Ready to go?”

“Go?”

“Yes, go. Phase 2, remember?”

“Right. Off we go, then.”

They headed down the stairs together.

“So…since I clearly missed this section of the meeting, perhaps you could let me know what Phase 2 is, precisely.”

Dawn grinned evilly. “We’re going to see the only lawyer in LA who works nights.”

Wes cleared his throat. “I see.”

Dawn decided to ignore his change of mood for the moment. “So…you DO know Anna Nicole looks pretty good these days, right?”

“Is she no longer obnoxious?”

Dawn considered for a moment.

“Guess there’s no diet for that.”

******************************

The taxi pulled to the side as it approached the Hyperion. Buffy caught a glimpse of Dawn’s Corolla speeding past, with Wesley at the wheel.

“Looks like they’re finished practicing.”

It was the first words either woman had said since getting into the back of the car, other than Buffy’s instructions to the cab driver.

“Ummm…B?”

“Yeah?”

Faith looked sheepish. “I…um…left all my cash with that dude. Think you could…”

“Oh. Of course.”

Buffy leaned to one side, fishing a pair of twenties out of her back pocket. “Keep the change.”

They made their way out of the cab and into the quiet lobby. Buffy spoke in a half-whisper.

“Looks like everyone’s in bed.”

Faith just nodded, heading for the stairs. After taking a couple of steps, she stopped, nearly causing Buffy to bump into her. Faith spoke without turning around.

“Whittier Boulevard. Between Findlay and Garfield.”

“What?”

“Call ‘em. That’s where they should go.”

Without another word, Faith hustled up the stairs and into her room. After taking a moment to stare after her, Buffy retired to her own room, pressing her speed dial for Spike as she went.

***********************************

Faith undressed quietly, listening for any disturbance in Xander’s soft snoring. After crawling into bed next to him, he began to stir slightly. She froze, waiting for him to settle. Finally, after jostling around for a few moments, he resumed breathing peacefully. Moving carefully, Faith reached for his forehead, moving a few errant strands of jet-black hair back where they belonged.

For the first time in several hours, Faith The Vampire Slayer wasn’t terrified.

***********************************

Willow had been discussing firewalls with Fred – mainly to help ease her friend’s post-rapelling stress. Now, after nearly two hours of techie talk, she felt completely exhausted. There would be no need to count sheep…

***********************************

The night was an endless abyss, with nothing but the barest trace of moon and star light to provide relief. When clouds rolled over, even that mild comfort was extinguished, leaving nothing visible.

Once upon a time, a precocious little red-headed girl had explored a cave in the Black Hills of South Dakota with her family. As the tour guide led them through a seemingly endless network of nature’s rough-hewn hallways, she felt exhilarated. This was how it must have been for early humans…walking amongst the stones by firelight.

Abruptly, the guide had stopped, interrupting her reverie. “Ok, everyone blow out your candles.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the group obeyed, plunging them into inky blackness. The guide’s cheery banter had gone; his voice now resembled the cool hardness of the mountain that enveloped them.

“What you’re experiencing is total and absolute darkness. Now, maybe you all think you’ve been through this before. News flash, boys and girls…you haven’t. There is always light. Even when you turn off the lamp at night and you see nothing, that’s merely temporary. Your pupils begin to dilate immediately, adjusting to the sudden change. Within a minute or two, you can spot certain things…the outline of your curtains, the branches outside the window moving gently in the breeze. The light of the moon was always there…you simply didn’t need it until then.

In here, though…surrounded by a thousand feet of rock on every side, there is no natural light to be found. Those pupils of yours are dilating like crazy as I speak, but it doesn’t mean a thing. Hell, you could be an owl…it just doesn’t matter. If we stayed in here like this long enough, eventually we would go blind. Our eyes would atrophy from lack of use. Look around you. Better yet, put your hand in front of your face. See anything? If you do, it’s a trace signature of the candle you just blew out…’cause there is no way you truly can. No light. Forever. Think about it.”

If there was anything the little girl did exceptionally well - even as a toddler - it was thinking. She’d discovered how unique she was early in life, charming waiters everywhere with her ability to read and comprehend restaurant menus at the age of three. No matter how difficult the other students made things in school, she knew deep down how special she truly was. Thoughts were her gift.

That day in the cave, 11-year old Willow Rosenberg learned that thinking really hard wasn’t always a good idea. Just as her imagination started to ponder the enormity of Darkness with a capital D, a bullfrog that had somehow lost its way jumped into her lap.

From that day on, she was deathly afraid of two things.

One of which was making her very uncomfortable at the moment..because the darn clouds were covering the moon.

“Where the Hell are we?”

“AAAAHHHH!!”

“Jesus, Will! Take it easy!”

“Buffy? Buffy, is that you?”

“Yes.”

“Ok.” Willow put her hand against her chest. “ At least you didn’t jump into my lap.”

There was a moment of silence. “Do I want to know?”

A male voice spoke from behind her. “Willow’s never told you that story?”

Buffy and Willow spoke as one. “Xander?”

“Yep. So…fancy meeting you girls here.”

Buffy squinted. “Right. Ummm…where exactly IS here?”

“Wait’ll the moon comes back out. You’ll get a better look.”

Almost as if the carpenter had conjured it, the pale sliver emerged from hiding. Willow’s breathing evened out slightly…then she frowned in recognition.

“Is that the mezzanine I see?”

“That it is.”

Buffy frowned as well. “We’re near an Italian restaurant?”

Xander moved next to her and pointed up. Buffy was able to make out individual seats in the distance.

“Oh, I’ve got it! We’re in a stadium of some kind!”

“Not just any stadium,” Willow said proudly. “This is OUR stadium.”

Xander put his arm around Buffy. “Buffy Summers, I give you the new Los Angeles Coliseum. Well…75 % of it. Little ways to go yet.”

The Slayer looked around again; once her enhanced vision adjusted, she had a better view than her friends.

“Wow. It’s huge.”

“90,000 seats once we finish it.” Xander pointed to a large network of girders. “There’s going to be an Emeril’s over there…between the first and second deck. Five-star dining at a football game. Sacrilegious to me personally, but hey! This is LA.”

“Cool. This is really great, guys.”

Xander and Willow shared a smile. Buffy would probably never understand just how much a few words of praise meant coming from her.

The moon began to hide behind a new set of fluffy barriers, quickly sobering the witch’s mood.

“So…does anyone here have the same question I do?”

Xander and Buffy exchanged glances, then looked to Willow, who held out her hands and shrugged.

“Aren’t we asleep?”

No one spoke for a moment. Xander leaned in close to his friends.

“Hey, you might be right. Buffy has pillow case face.”

The Slayer’s eyes widened in horror. “Don’t even joke about that!”

“Who says I was jok-“

The banter was interrupted by a huge flash of light. All three staggered backward, covering their eyes instinctively. Unsurprisingly Buffy recovered first, moving in front of her friends protectively with fists at the ready.

Willow and Xander were still rubbing their eyes when they heard Buffy whisper in shock.

“Oh my God.”

A familiar voice caused Willow and Xander to look up instantly, forgetting their momentary blindness.

“I must say I am deeply flattered, Buffy…but a deity I most certainly am not. Far too much pressure…and one simply cannot take a vacation.”

Buffy, Willow and Xander merely stared mutely, causing the brilliant apparition to smile with affection.

“If I’d known this would keep you lot quiet, I’d have done it years ago.”

Finally Buffy managed to speak through rapidly forming tears.

“Giles?”

- End Chapter Twenty -