Little Bitty Puzzle PiecesBy PJzallday
Recess
"What do you mean I'm going to get a call? A call from who?" the bewildered Slayer asked Aisling, adding with a clear note of apathy, "What happens if I don't answer the phone?"
"There remains a certain degree of chance in all things, Buffy," the Seer explained, "but I can say this: your future depends on your ability to deal with what you shall learn and how you act afterward."
"That's why it's so important that you take this time to fortify your inner strength," insisted Bea. "Not all battles are won with brute force. It takes a clear head and a strong will. Your head is clouded with ghosts from your past. You simply don't have the will required to take on the challenges that are to come."
"Please Buffy," Willow begged. "We've tried some more... ah... subtle methods."
Suspicious, the Slayer asked, "What do you mean?"
"I had your room supplied with some enchanted healing stones," her friend admitted.
"The ones in the drawer!" Buffy acknowledged with some annoyance. "What sort of mojo have you been trying to work on me?"
"They're entirely harmless," the young witch assured. "There's quartz to help balance your emotions; a sapphire to make you feel more comfortable talking about stuff; and malachite to ease your stress levels."
"Willow meant you no harm," Bea told the Slayer. "You're to be here such a sort time; the stones were only intended to speed the process a wee bit, to help you relax and allow yourself to heal."
Buffy got up from her chair. "You know, I'm sick to death of everyone telling me that I'm hurting and I need to deal with my emotions. I deal. The same way I always have. And everything turns out just fine. So why don't you all just-"
"Stop!" Aisling yelped and shut her eyes before being lost in a series of ticks and groans.
"Um... What's... going on?" Buffy asked as she looked on fearfully as the woman's face contorted.
With eyes full of sympathy, Bea explained, "She's having a vision... and, I dare say, it isn't a good one."
The old Seer's odd behaviour didn't last long, but when she reopened her eyes, the woman was quick to rise to her feet and make for the hall. "I have to go."
***
"OK. You wanna tell me what just happened back there?" Gunn asked Fred as he followed her down the hall.She hushed him and waved him into her room.
Once inside, he repeated, "Now're you gonna tell me what's goin' on?"
"You heard what he said. John thinks that he killed Buffy," Fred began. "But since he thinks he killed her months ago, and we know she was still alive a week ago..."
"He couldn't have killed her," the man concluded as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Yeah, I got that. What I don't get is why you don't want him to know."
"But he also said she was the 'love of his life'." Fred was agitated so she paced around her room as the wheels in her head were grinding away trying to deduce what should be done about the visitor and who exactly he might be. "Does that sound right to you? I mean, Buffy was the love of Angel's life."
"You think he's some kinda psycho-stalker or somethin'?"
"Well, that's possible... and pretty much why I didn't want you to tell him anything until we know more about him," the young woman explained. "Maybe we should call Buffy and ask her about him — except that that might be exactly what he wants us to do since that would lead him right to her. We can't go sending him after Buffy if he really does mean to kill her, right? So we shouldn't call. At least not until we know more."
"Sounds good to me," Gunn said as he went to get up. "See ya in the-"
"But he might turn out to be perfectly harmless," she suggested, making Gunn settle back onto the bed and sigh heavily at the realization that he wasn't going to get to leave any time soon. "He could be from an alternate dimension where we all exist but we don't know about our other selves here in this dimension. I mean, for a while there we had portals to alternate dimensions opening up all over the place. Maybe he just found a way through?" Fred crossed in front of Gunn and just as he was about to respond, she cut in with another thought, "Or he could be some kind of time traveler like Holtz. Well, except that he's gone back in time instead of forward like Holtz did." Her friend raised a brow at the odd theories, but it went unnoticed as Fred continued to ponder the possibilities. "And maybe when he said that he killed Buffy, it was an accident and he's traveled back in time to correct that? That's really kinda romantic don't ya-"
"Whoa... Now I dunno if what yer sayin' is true, but what I do know is that if I gotta think any more about this tonight, my head's gonna explode." He sauntered over to the still pensive woman, gave her a kiss on the cheek and bid her goodnight, "Merry Christmas. See ya in the mornin'."
"Alright Charles," conceded Fred before brightening with another idea. "You know, Buffy did die. He could just be some old boyfriend that remembered her dead and blames himself for it. Oh! We can get Lorne to read him! Maybe sing a Christmas carol or somethin' so he doesn't get all suspicious and then-"
"Good night Fred," Gunn groaned on his way out the door before closing it behind himself.
***
His guests had arrived and were in the sitting room enjoying a drink and some cheese while their host finished up in the kitchen."Almost ready!" Andrew called as he checked the timer on his Yorkshires before returning to the saucepan on the stove. "This gravy is kicking my ass!" he grumbled to himself. "They're gonna want gravy. I can't serve the potatoes or the Yorkshire pudding without the gravy!" His mind — a muddle of recipes and times, and maps, names and dates — was split between his dinner party and his job. He'd been distracted and added the liquid too quickly so the gravy was lumpy. As he ran the mess through a sieve, he considered conversation topic options for dinner.
Having his boss for dinner was an important event. Avoiding talking about work would be nearly impossible especially given the fact that the man had only recently returned from his trip to the States and the two had not yet been able to exchange a full briefing of the events in and outside of the Council's office.
"Maybe since Dawn's here... No," he moaned. Although Andrew would have liked to believe otherwise, there was no reason that the older man would want to hide any of the Council's business from the girl. Andrew knew that the Council Head was grooming Dawn to hold some position, perhaps teaching ancient languages to trainee Watchers. As long as she'd not be taking his job, Andrew would deal with having her around. "She could never do my job. I'm... I'm indispensable. Mr. Giles would be lost without me." The young man had worked diligently since turning away from the "Dark Side" and he was certain that after the thoroughness with which he'd prepared for the Council meeting the following week, Giles would promote him to some more important position.
With the gravy strained into a serving vessel and the Yorkshire pudding out of the oven surrounding the roast, the proud cook carried his masterpiece to the table. "Dinner is served," he declared.
"Ah lovely," Giles remarked as he stood up from the couch and made his way with Dawn to the table.
"Yeah, it looks great, Andrew," the young woman added as the phone rang. "Oh, you want me to get that?"
"No, I'll get it. Mr. Giles?" Andrew held the carving knife and fork to the man. "Would you do the honours?"
The older fellow took the utensils and prepared to slice the meat as the younger hurried to the phone.
"Merry Christmas. Andrew speaking."
"Ah yes, ah... Happy Christmas to you, Andrew," the voice on the other end replied awkwardly. "Aisling here. From the Coven in Westbury."
The festive smile was quickly washed from his face as he listened to the grim report of what the witch had seen in her vision.
***
After a calming shower, brushing his teeth and changing into the pajamas Fred had found for him, John wandered back out to the main room to grab the sketchbook. On the way he noticed the telephone and realized that he should call Jude. She'd be at work, he figured, so he could just leave a message on her machine. It would be quick, not too much of an imposition on his hosts, and his friend would know he was alright."Hello?" a gruff man's voice answered.
John was startled. "Um... sorry. Must have the wrong number."
"What number are ya callin'?"
"Ah... 805-555-9642," he replied hesitantly.
"That's the number," the man confirmed. "Are you a friend of Judith's?"
"Well, yes." John wasn't sure what to make of this stranger answering his friend's phone in the middle of the night.
"I'm her uncle, Peter. I'm afraid I've got some bad news."
There was a pause and John felt a lump form in his throat the ominous tone with which the man had spoken.
"Judith's in the hospital."
"Well, yeah. She's working. I was just-"
"No. She's not at the hospital; Judith is in the hospital," the uncle clarified. "She was attacked on her way to work. We don't know much, except that she's been beaten pretty bad. I'm just here picking up some stuff and waiting for her mom to call to-"
"Yeah, right then..." John interrupted, in shock at the discovery. "Um... Thanks." He hung up. "How could I leave her? I should be with her now," he lamented while rubbing his temple. "No... that could put her in more danger. What am I goin' t' do?" Feeling numb inside, he retired to the bedroom. "Maybe Fred... Fred can help me."
Without any further coherent thoughts, the traveler climbed into bed, clutched a pillow to his chest, pulled the linens over his head and went to sleep.