Change of Season

Change of Seasons, Part 10

1

Joyce pauses briefly in the doorway to the living room, looking at
Hank. She feels her lips tighten in anger. Look at the smirk on his
face. God, how did I ever think I loved that man?

"I don't know why you're here, Hank. But can't this wait until the
morning? It's been a very long day." She leans against the doorjamb.

"No, it really can't wait. I drove up here from L.A. I want to know
what's going on around here."

Exhausted, she walks over, and deliberately sits at the end of the
sofa, as far away as she can get from him. She frowns.

"Ok, Hank, what's going on? Why're you even here? It's Thursday.
What happen? Did your current slut throw you out?"

Hank ignores the comment. "I'm here because Dawn called me. She was
afraid you and Buffy were going to kill each other. What exactly is
going on here, Joyce?"

Joyce feels a slight twinge remembering the night she and Buffy
slapped each other. But she covers it, and moves on the offensive.

"This is amazing, coming from you, Hank. I can't remember the last
time you asked about the girls. When you're here on the weekends,
you practically ignore them. And now you're all concerned?" Joyce
shakes her head.

"I care about the girls!" Hank says defensively. The flush rises in
his face. "I care about my family."

"That's a joke, right?" Joyce says, getting up. "The last time
you 'cared' about your family was when you were about to lose a
major account because they were family oriented business. The only
thing you care about, Hank, is having your cake and eating it too.
You only think about how to get into your secretary's pants," She
gives him a disparaging look, "considering, that must take some
planning. All you ever want to hear is that everything's fine; you
don't EVEN bother to look beyond the surface, Hank. So, I'm finding
it really hard to believe you really care now."

"Hey! I work hard! I put in a lot of hours. The last thing I want
when I get home is a bunch of whining and moans about how this is
wrong, or that is wrong. I need some peace. I'm just looking for
some peace and quiet."

"And I don't work hard? Never mind, in addition to working long
hours, I'm dealing with whatever comes along."

"You don't have to work, Joyce. That's your choice!"

Joyce laughs bitterly," Sure, Hank. I don't have to work, what with
the money I don't see coming from you, exactly how am I to oh… pay
the mortgage, the bills, put food on the table, make sure the girls
have something to wear, and all the rest?"

"That's ridiculous, I give you money…"

" Right. 1500 dollars a month. Wow. Do you know how far that goes
these days? Nowhere, Hank. Nowhere! You have two teenage daughters
under this roof. That barely covers feeding and clothing them. I
have to pick up the slack, Hank. That, and make the business go.
Even as it is, it's tight. But without me working, we'd be starving
here. So, don't give me that crap about how hard you work. I'm
working hard here, too. A lot harder than you!

"Maybe if you budgeted more carefully, it wouldn't be a problem!"

"That's your answer? Budget more carefully? Ok, what do I cut out,
Hank? The lights? The water? Maybe we can cut down on food, Hank?
Maybe the girls won't mind shopping at the Goodwill, Hank. Do you
think 1500 dollars a month can even begin to cover expenses? If so,
you're pretty stupid, Hank!"

"I'm doing the best I can. Business has been down, lately…"

She just stares at him, not saying a word.

"What?" He asks, feeling defensive.

"There was a time, Hank, when I would've believed that. But that's
long past," She frowns, crossing her arms over her chest. "This
isn't working, Hank, and you know it. And I'm tired of pretending it
is."

"What're you saying?"

"I'm tired of you ruining my life, Hank. I'm tired of you pretending
to be a father, when you can't even be bothered to know what's
really going on around here. You never EVEN asked that, did you? How
Buffy's acting up again. How she's making it hard for Dawn, too. Did
you ask WHY the groundings occurred? How I caught her sneaking in
after being at a bar all night? Or how she started a fight with her
sister? It's starting all over again, and you couldn't care less.
All you can do is ride in here, pretending to give a crap, and make
things WORSE!" She walks over to where the packages Hank brought
with him are stored, and tosses them at him. "You can't buy them,
Hank. You need to be here, as a father, when they need you. Not
just when it's convenient with you. "

"I care about my daughters!" Hank reddens. "I told you, I have to
work. Things have been down, lately. I can't just do a 9 to 5
routine, and drive two hours every night to be here. It's just not
practical right now!"

"When will it be practical, Hank? When you tire of the current
girlfriend? Or after the next girlfriend? Or the next?"

Hank's face gets red, and he almost explodes out of his chair.

"I told you, Joyce, I'm working. I'm really busy right now…"

"And I told you the time when I would believe that story is long
past, Hank. All you care about is trying to be the stud to your
latest girlfriend. All you want is to be with her. Well, go ahead,
be with her. Just don't be coming around here anymore!"

"Oh, really?" Hank stands, face red. "Look at the pot calling the
kettle black? Exactly how have you been spending your nights lately,
Joyce? Buffy seems to think your out running around…"

"What?" Joyce is flustered for a moment.

"Mystery men sending you flowers," Hank narrows his eyes. "Exactly
what's that about, Joyce?"

Those flowers were a gift, Hank, from a client that was pleased with
the help I gave him getting a rare piece of art he's been looking
for. I suppose you've never had a grateful client give you anything?"

"Well, what about all these 'client' meetings at night?"

"That's a little strange, coming from you, Henry Summers," Joyce
stares at him, hands on hips. "However, mine were legitimate. I have
to meet the clients on their schedule, not mine. It was the only
times I could meet the clients. Like, tonight."

"It's twelve in the morning, Joyce. A little late for a Client
meeting , don't you think?"

Oh for god's sake, Hank. Not everyone is a cheating bastard like
you! I'm starting a business here. It takes a LOT of time. YOU know
that. How many all- nighters did you pull when you were starting in
business? God!" Joyce storms away, exasperated.

She stand there for a moment, fuming. Then she turns back to Hank.

"That's it, Henry, this is over."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hank says, an edge to his voice.

"This, Henry. This sham we're playing. This so called marriage.
It's over."

"I don't think so," Henry says, jaw tight. "Did you forget about
certain pictures I have of you?"

"No, but maybe you forgot. I gave that up, for the girls.
Strangely," She smiles tightly at him. "you didn't."

"You think a judge is going to care about that? You had a lesbian
affair."

"True. I did. In the middle of divorcing you, while you were giving
me a very difficult time, emotionally. Harassing me, extorting me.
How would a judge view that, Hank?"

"I have a right to protect my daughters."

"And so do I!" Joyce leaves the room, returning in a few minutes
with a thick envelope.

"What's that?"

"Well, you see, Henry, I took a page out of your book," She walks
over, and opening the envelope, pulls out a file folder showing it
to him

Picture after picture of him with various women, a number in the
nude and in embarrassing sexual positions were in the envelope.
Along with it were copies of receipts for credit card billings, for
rooms, dinners, weekend trips.

"Where'd you get these ?" He smiles. He seems more interested in the
pictures, than any implications they might hold. "God, I remember
that. Exhausted for a week."

Joyce makes a disgusted noise. God, he doesn't even have the decency
to be ashamed. And I'm surprised by that?

" I got those from Cheryl. Remember her? You're secretary? You slept
with her, remember? Then dumped her?" Joyce leans a little
closer. "You tried to fire her, after? Remember? And she hit you
with the sexual harassment suit? The partners kept her on, to make
it go away?"

"Oh, I remember Cheryl, all right. God, how could I forget her?"
Hank sneers." Who would've thought I'd pick another cold frigid
bitch to sleep with?" He leans in a little. "She's probably some big
old dyke like you."

Joyce looks at him, feeling revulsion. "If she is, you're probably
the one who turned her." She sees a flicker of anger in his eyes,
and smiles.

"Well, if this is all you've got, you're screwed," Hank recovers
quickly. "This is old news. And what judge is going to choose a
lesbian dyke over a concerned father?"

"Well, you see, Hank, that's not all I've got." Her smile
widens. "Seems you've been a naughty boy, Hank, in more than one
way."

" What're you talking about now?" Hank dismisses her. "You know
you've lost, and now you're desperate!"

"Am I?" She turns to him, a small smile on his face. "You know,
Hank, you think you're very clever. But you really should be more
careful about who you burn with your little affairs."

"God, Joyce, what're you talking about?"

"Funny thing is, I didn't go to her. She came to me," Joyce says,
waving him off, "we used to be friends, Cheryl and I, before you're
little affair. And, after a lot of drinks and some words, we are
again. And she told me the most interesting story…"

"Just spit it out, Joyce!"

"I didn't even have a clue," Joyce ignores his impatience, "Guess I
should've figured, you know? I mean, cheat on your wife, what does
that say about your other dealings?"

"Quit playing games, Joyce!" Hank shouts, losing patience. "What the
hell is this about?"

"This is about the two sets of books you're keeping, Hank. The one
set you show the IRS and the partners, and the other, real books.
The ones that show the actual earnings of the company. A little
disparity there, Hank. Actually, a very large disparity." She pulls
another folder out of the envelope. "you might want to look at this,
Hank."

"What kind of insanity are you spewing now, Joyce?" Hank looks at
her, a slight sneer on his face. He takes the other folder, looking
at her," Are you sure you're not having some kind of episode or
something? You're talking crazy." He shakes his head. Hank looks at
the folder, his face flushing.

The color drains out of Hank's face. That's the only confirmation
she really needs.

"You're delusional!" Hank yells at her. "You're mad, and you're
making this up to try to hurt me, well, it's not going to work,
Joyce. No one will believe you!"

"See, that's the thing, Hank. They don't have to believe me. They
only have to look at the evidence Cheryl gave me, then take a close
look at the books at your firm. Then, they'll know the truth."

Hank sits very still. The look on his face is one of disbelief,
quickly covered with scorn. Hank looks at her, and sneers. Taking
the file, he tears it up.

"Where's your proof now, Joyce?"

"Oh, those were your copies, Hank. I planned on giving you them
this weekend, anyway, you just came home a little early. I have
other copies, in a safe deposit box in my name. Along with the
negatives and originals of the receipts…" She moves over to him,
standing next to him. "It'll stay there. As long as you get out of
my life. Mine and the girls."

"I don't believe you! You don't have any proof. You're making it
up!" He stands, looking down on her. "It's my word against yours.
They're never going to believe you. They'll know you're just
jealous, just trying to hurt me." He convinces himself, if no one
else. "No, you lose, Joyce. Not gonna happen!"

"Oh, it's going to happen, Hank. Unless you do what I tell you."

"I still have the pictures of you and your dyke girlfriend," Hank
says, desperation in his voice. "I'll ruin you!"

"Ok, have it your way, Hank," Joyce turns away from him, moving
across the room. " Do your worst. Just remember, I warned you. I
wonder what your partners are going to do to you when they find
out?" She looks over her shoulder for a reaction. "Probably call for
an internal audit. Then, probably turn you over to the police for
embezzlement. You know they're getting rather hard on white collar
crime these days, Hank." She turns back to him. "And what will your
daughters think when they find out their father's a thief?"

"You're my wife," Hank says, starting to sweat, "you can't testify
against me!" Hank forces a smug smile on his face. "Too bad, Joyce."

"Ummm… no, you're wrong. I can't be forced to testify against you,
Hank. Doesn't mean I can't volunteer."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"After what you've done to me? I think I would, Henry. Thing is,
Henry, I've got all the cards, and you've got squat." Her lip curls
in a sneer. "I'm divorcing you, Hank. And there's not a thing you
can do about it. You see, I never rescinded the previous suit for
divorce. And it's still active." She smiles coldly at him. "I was
going to, but you went back to your old screwing around, Hank. So I
didn't." She hands him another envelope. "There's a copy of the
divorce papers in there."

He pulls them out. "These aren't any good. You'll have to refile."

"Actually, I won't. Look at the dates on the papers, Hank. They're
good for a year from their issuance. It's only been 6 months." She
points at the papers. "Sign them, Henry."

"I'm not signing anything!"

"Really?" Joyce shakes her head. " You're so worried about your
daughters, Hank. It's almost touching, "Joyce has a sarcastic
tone, "think of what your daughters would think if they saw those
pictures, Hank. What do you think they'd feel about you if they knew
what kind of man you really are?" She grins a twisted smile. "Think
they'll visit you in prison, Hank?"

"That's so much like you, Joyce. Vindictive. You'd ruin my
relationship with them because I found you cold and unresponsive."

"You're blaming me for you're whoring around Hank? I'm so
surprised!" Joyce's tone takes a sarcastic edge. "Typical, Hank.
Things don't go your way, so you blame everybody else for your
failure. As a husband, as a father…" She turns away from him,"… as a
man…"

She doesn't see the look on his face.

"You won't get away with this, Joyce. If you try to poison my
daughters against me, I'll…"

"You'll what, Hank?" Joyce smiles a small, dismissive smile. "Screw
with me, Hank, and I'll go to your partners with this information."

"I don't believe you!"

"Wonder how long Boscorp , your biggest client, would continue to do
business with your company when they find out about your little
affairs, Hank?" She turns to get his reaction. "or when they find
out what a cheating, thieving bastard you are?"

Hank just glares at her.

"Now, sign them Hank, or I'm going to reveal what a scummy, immoral
prick you are!" She slams the papers in front of him. "Sign them!"

Hank just stares at her, his eyes narrowed, his mouth a line across
his face.

"Do it Hank," Joyce's face hardens, "Or tomorrow the world knows
exactly what kind of man you are."

They stare at each other for a few moments, then Hank breaks the
stare, looks down and pulling a pen from his pocket, signs the
divorce papers. Joyce quickly retrieves the papers, and turns to put
them away.

"Good," she says, as she walks towards the den," now, leave. I'll
have my lawyer contact your…"

She stops dead when a lamp just misses her and crashes against the
wall. Turning and ducking, she sees Hank behind her, right behind
her.

SMASH!

He hits her directly in the face with his open palm. The force of
the blow knocks her into the wall, stunning her. She slides down the
wall. He walks over, and grabbing her by her hair, pulls her too her
feet. Joyce screams.

"Listen to me now, you lousy, frigid bitch. You won this round, but
this isn't over. Not by a long shot, Joyce. You better watch your
back, because I'm going to make you pay."

He starts to slap her again, but Joyce instinctively kicks him where
it hurts the most. He lets go, groaning and sinking to his knees.
She starts kicking him.

"Get out! Get out NOW, you SON OF A BITCH!" Joyce screams at
him. "GET OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE ON YOU!" She starts hitting
and kicking him.

Hank, recovering, shakes her off, and back hands her again, knocking
her back. He retreats to the front door.

"You just better watch it, Joyce."

He ducks through the front door, and slams it after himself. A
minute later, his car is heard to roar to life, the tires screeching
on the driveway as he leaves.

Joyce, feeling faint, still clutching the signed divorce papers in
her hand, sinks to the floor, sitting heavily.

A few moments later, she hears Hank's car engine roar in the
driveway. The screech of tires tells her he's gone.

Slowly, painfully she pushes herself up off the floor. Standing
there, she feels woozy. She stumbles over to the dining room table,
and sits heavily in the chair.

Head throbbing from the blows, she gingerly puts her head in her
hands.

Now what, Joyce? Now what do you do?

The pain, the anger, and the frustration come to the fore, and
before she can stop it, she's crying.

She doesn't know how long she spends at the table, shaking silently
as the pain and hurt from the months since Salem come pouring out.
I hate him! I hate that bastard! I should do it anyway! I should
destroy him, for what he's done to me.

Then she pauses, drawing a breath. Slowly, her anger cools, and fear
sets in.

And if I do, what'll he do to me? Or the girls? God, I can't… I
can't risk he'd hurt them!

She feels the tears come again, and another round of body wracking
sobs hits her.

Finally, she pulls herself together and wearily rises. She walks
into the living room, and after straightening up a bit, more from
habit than need, she douses the light and heads for the stairs.

She pauses at the first stair, remembering Hank's parting words. Her
head feels worse; throbbing, and her eyes feel hot and scratchy and
she can barely keep them open.

How the hell am I going to explain this to the girls tomorrow?

Making her way slowly up the stairs, she wonders if dead is her
worst option.

2

The next morning doesn't find her feeling much better. Perhaps
because she didn't get much sleep the previous night. The last thing
she feels like doing is going to the gallery and making nice with
the clients.

Right, and what choice do you have, exactly? She wonders, staring at
herself in her vanity's mirror. She sees a tired looking, fortyish,
unsmiling woman look back at herself. Her laugh lines are deeper,
her eyes a little bloodshot, and … Oh, my god! Is that a zit? She
sees the nasty little blackhead at the bridge of her nose, where it
joins the brow line. God, I thought I left those behind in high
school. Sighing, she takes a little additional base to cover it.

Well, at least Henry didn't leave any marks on my face. Good thing.
I'd hate to have to explain those this morning. She sighs, shaking
her head. Hard enough explaining the mysterious disappearing Hank
Summers. I should have this down by now, though. Had lots of
practice.

She knows soon she's going to have to tell the girls that she and
Hank are divorcing. Again. There's no way to duck it, and anyway,
she wouldn't try. She believes they have to know the truth.

Just, not today. Not this morning. She felt really crappy, and
didn't feel like the emotional outburst that would result.

No, just tell them a lie. Not like you haven't done that before. She
looks at herself in the mirror and frowns. I'm tired of lying. About
Hank, about me, about everything.

Still she's not ready to tell them the truth. And they're not ready
to hear it. Soon, but not now.

Just another lie. She walks to the door, pausing. One more stupid
lie.

She exits the bedroom.

"When did he leave?" Buffy asks, looking at her mother
suspiciously. "I didn't hear him go."

"Very early this morning, Buffy. He wanted to beat the traffic back
to L.A."

"Why didn't he say goodbye at least?" Dawn chimes in. "He always
says goodbye before he leaves."

God, I feel like I'm at the Inquisition here, Joyce sighs silently
to herself.

"He didn't want to wake you, Dawn," Joyce says, "It was very early."

"Is he going to be back tonight?" Buffy asks.

"No, honey. He has to work this weekend. He's very busy at work."

Liar, Buffy thinks to herself, glancing at her mother. He wouldn't
just leave like that. He said he was going to stay til he found out
what was going on. Now he's gone? No, there's something else going
on. Something she's not saying!

"Look, girls. We're going to have to get used to the idea that your
dad isn't going to be around much for awhile. He's doing a major
project at work, and won't be able to get home very much." God, lie,
lie and lie some more, Joyce! "We'll just have to do our best to get
along without him."

"But mom, didn't he talk to you at all, last night? About things?"
Dawn seems confused, and disappointed. Hank had told her he'd talk
to Joyce, make it right. Now it seemed that nothing was discussed.

"Yes he did, Dawn," Joyce turns to her youngest daughter. "I just
wish you'd come to me before running to your dad, bringing him all
the way here from L.A." She frowns a little. "We could've talked
about this."

Dawn blushes a little, embarrassed. Buffy snorts.

"Is something funny, Buffy?" Joyce asks her, her tone not sounding
too pleased.

"Just, when do we talk to you mom?" Buffy says in a slightly edgy
voice. "you're gone most of the time, working or out with a client."
Her tone indicated she wasn't buying either reason.

"And you think I'm out … how did your dad put it? … oh yes, running
around with someone… that's what you told him, isn't it?" Joyce
stares at her daughter calmly.

Buffy blushes, and doesn't say anything. Her embarrassment generates
anger, and she grips her fists tightly.

"I'm sorry you don't understand this, Buffy. But I'm running a
business," Joyce says to her oldest daughter. "That takes a lot of
time. I don't go out with the clients socially… it's business."

"So what? Now we have to have an appointment to see you?" Buffy asks.

Dawn feels her stomach turning over. Shut UP, Buffy! God, just quit
it!

"Of course not, Buffy, " Joyce lets a little exasperation creep into
her voice. God, why does she have to make this so hard all the
time? " But you've got to understand that I have to make this work!"

"Why? You don't have to work, mom," Buffy says, slightly surly. "You
want to work. You like working, cuz then you can get away from us!"

"That's not true, Buffy Anne Summers, and you know it. Or would, if
you weren't so much like your father," Joyce snaps at her.

"I'd rather be like him, than be like you!" Buffy says, getting
up. "This is bogus. I'm out of here!"

"Sit down, Buffy," Joyce says, pointing at the table.

"No," Buffy stands, defiantly.

Joyce is beyond her limit. She stands, her face flushing red.

"Sit down now, Elisabeth Anne Summers. Now!" Her quiet voice is
backed by steel.

For a moment, the two glare at each other, then Buffy backs down,
sitting at the table. Joyce remains standing.

"Ok, I'd prefer not saying this, but I guess I really have no
choice," Joyce turns away for a moment, thinking up something to
cover the situation without telling them about the divorce… yet. "
You girls are old enough now to know the truth, so here it is.
You're father's company isn't doing so well. Right now it's a very
difficult time for him, and he has to spend a lot of time there,
trying to turn things around. He can't be here very much, if at all,
until things are better," She looks at them. "Do you two understand
that? That means, don't be calling him with home problems. He has
enough to deal with."

"Ok, mom," Dawn says, quietly.

"Ok," Buffy says, still a little surly.

"That said, you have to know right now, money is tight. I'm doing ok
with the gallery, so we'll be ok, but money is kind of tight. You're
dad isn't able to give us as much as he used to. So, I need to work
harder to make it up. That means long hours at the gallery, and
sometimes, I have to do business dinners, simply to keep competitive
with the other galleries. I know it's hard on you too. It's hard for
me too. I want to be here with you guys, believe me!"

Sure, Buffy thinks to herself, sure you do.

"Look, I know it's hard on you guys. It's hard on me, too. I love
you guys, and love being with you. Just right now, I don't have a
choice. And, you two are old enough now to accept the way things
are. You're both nearly adults now…"

"Yet, you treat us like children," Buffy mutters.

"That's because, Buffy, you sometimes act like children." Joyce
softens a little. "But I've done some thinking over the last couple
of days, and I think we need to start again, with clean slates."
She looks at each of them in turn. "What do you say?"

The girls look at each other, and then Dawn pipes up.

"Does that mean we're not grounded anymore?"

Joyce smiles, and nods. "Yes, Dawn, that's what it means. We start
over, all's forgiven, ok?"

"Really?" Buffy asks, still suspicious. "What's the catch?"

"No 'catch', Buffy," Joyce sighs. Damn, can't she ever give me a
break? "I'm lifting your restriction, just try to act like a
responsible adult. Since that's how you want to be treated."

Buffy can't believe her ears. But she's not going to look a gift
horse in the mouth.

"Thanks, mom," She gets up, smiling. " Gotta fly." She wants to get
out before mom changes her mind. She starts towards the door.

"Buffy?" Joyce stops her just as her hand hits then doorknob.

Shit! Knew it was too good to be true!

"Yeah, mom?" She turns, feeling her heart sink.

"You forgot your lunch, dear," Joyce says, smiling.

Buffy treats Joyce to a rare smile, then heads towards the kitchen
for her lunch.

Joyce notices her youngest daughter has gone silent. She looks over,
and sees Dawn looking worried. God, I hate lying to them like that.
But can I really tell them about the divorce yet? Or what a shit
heel their father is?

"Dawn, honey? Is something wrong?" Joyce says, feeling a little
worried for her youngest.

"Mom? Is it going to be ok? I mean, money wise? I could get a job…
help out…" Dawn says, her brow furrowed.

Joyce feels her heart melt, and simultaneously, like a shit heel.

"Honey, we're going to be ok, " Joyce says, going over and putting a
hand on Dawn's shoulder. She squeezes it reassuringly. "It's just a
rough patch. Things will get better soon. I promise."

"Are you sure, mom? I'd really like to help out, if I can."

"I know you would, honey. But it's going to be fine, ok?" She leans
over, "Just be you, the student, ok? That's your job right now."

"Ok, mom," Dawn smiles. She gets up, and heads towards the kitchen
for her lunch.

Buffy is standing by the front door, waiting somewhat impatiently
for her sister.

"C'mon, Squirt. We don't have all day."

"Quit calling me that, Buffy!" Dawn comes out of the kitchen with
her lunch.

"Quit being a moron, ok?" Buffy disappears through the door.

" Bye mom." Dawn follows her out.

"Bye girls!" Joyce follows them to the door.

She watches as the sisters make their way to school, immersed in the
usual sisterly competition. She smiles, feeling an incredible
warmness for them.

I wish I could just tell them the truth. The whole truth.

Quietly, she shuts the front door.

3

Cordelia Chase stands in front of the group of eager girls, enjoying
her power.

Being the captain of the cheerleaders has its perks, she admitted to
herself, looking over the prospective candidates.

Like anyone well suited for their vocation, Cordelia holds the reins
of power confidently, easily. She knows being a cheerleader is a
coveted honor at Sunnydale high. It leads to social superiority over
the rest of the herd. And she has the power to convey this to
anyone she so chooses. She can make or break someone's high school
career, and she revels in the utter power of it all.

Her eyes lock on the nubile form of Buffy Summers, and she
unconsciously licks her lips. There's one that I want to make and
break, she thinks to herself, a smirk gracing her expression. She's
attracted to Buffy's innocence wrapped in a thin veneer of
sophistication. She feels a twinge between her thighs as she feels a
craving to taste that innocence; taste it, break it and corrupt it.

Harmony Kendall, standing next to Buffy, sees Cordelia's gaze, and
at first thinks it's for her. She feels a shiver of delight,
followed by another, warmer tingle. She preens a little, basking in
Cordelia's lusty gaze.

Then she sees Cordelia isn't looking at her, but at the girl next to
her, and surge of jealousy courses through her body. She glances at
Buffy out of the corner of her eye, and feels a strong urge to bash
her face. Stupid little slut, she thinks to herself, her body
unconsciously trying to attract Cordy to her. Who does she think
she is, anyway? Why is Cordy drooling over her? She's nothing!

"Ok, Ladies," Cordelia clapped her hands to get the group's
attention. "I'm Cordelia Chase. For those you who were born in a
cave and just recently escaped, I'm the captain of the cheerleading
squad. Girls already on the squad? Raise your hands."

A number of girls in the group, including Harmony, raise their hands.

"These are my girls, and I put them out there to watch you and
evaluate you. They'll help me make my final decision, but I'm the
one who decides who'll be on the squad, so, show me your best stuff.
Let's begin."

Cordelia finds a seat and sits down, crossing her long legs and
watching the action. She smiles as one after another, the girls do
their best to impress her. Most don't, but she still has to give
them A for effort. The fact that she spread the word that only the
cute and pretty need apply spared her the embarrassment of watching
the hippos or geekettes try out for the team. Even so, she's
somewhat dismayed at the lack of grace some of the girls exhibit. I
mean, this is the cheerleaders, folks. You could've taken a few
dance classes, work on your routines.

Buffy, standing towards the back, looking at the girls with the same
practiced and somewhat jaded eye that Cordelia reviews them. Oh,
man, this is gonna be so easy, she chortles to herself, watching
girl after girl make blunders or end up awkwardly or generally
eliminate themselves. A few show real talent, and she knows she has
to watch out for them. I can do better, she thinks to herself.

Getting on the cheerleading squad is a life and death thing for her.
She needs to find some way to get back to a power base, and this
seems to be the logical method. She just needs to do well here, and
she's back in with the 'cool' kids. Once there, she knows she can
rise to the top easily. After all, I'm the cream of the cream.

"Buffy Summers? You're next!" Cordelia calls out. She settles back
to watch, feeling a little tingle between her legs. This could be
fun. And educational.

Buffy cuts out from the crowd of girls, and is so concentrated on
her routine she doesn't see the foot that casually finds its way
into her path. She trips, skidding forward on the highly polished
floor. There are giggles and repressed titters from the crowd of
girls.

Flushing from embarrassment, she looks back in time to see Harmony
looking at her with a little smirk on her face.

What's your trauma, Dork-o? she fumes, starting to rise from the
floor.

Harmony scurries over, and bends over to help her.

"Gee, did you trip?" Harmony says, all innocence and concern.

"I had help," Buffy shoots her a look, shaking her off.

"Just trying to help, " Harmony says with her trademark perkiness.
She slaps the now standing Buffy hard on the back, causing her to
skitter forward on the floor. "Good luck!"

I should wipe that smirk off her face, Buffy grumbles to herself.
Then lets it slide. Aw, screw it. She's probably afraid of the
competition. She should be.

What Buffy doesn't see is the sign Harmony put on her back. It
reads, "I'm a Spaz, cheer me on!"

She gets center floor, and starts into her routine. Locked! I'm so
got this! No one's even CLOSE to me! She thinks, as she starts to
the beat of the music.

She hears the cheers coming from behind her, and feels her
confidence zoom. Oh yeah, even these hicks know talent when they see
it, Buffy smiles to herself, putting more and more into her routine.

Cordelia for her part, is watching with interest. She saw the little
display Harmony put on, and was amused by the obvious jealousy and …
well, spine… that Harmony showed by trying to sabotage Buffy. Who
woulda thunk she had it in her. Cordelia smiles, watching as the
diminutive blond goes through her routine. Still, kind of wasted.
This girl is good. Even the other girls think so. Can't exactly cut
her from the team, now can I? She smiles to herself. As if I wanted
to. I mean, I got plans for her…

Buffy turns around, shaking her hips and butt in a particularly
sexy, seductive way, and it's then that Cordelia sees the little
sign that Harmony put on her. She chuckles, and claps, enjoying the
joke along with the rest.

Wow, she's really digging it! Buffy preens, knowing for sure now
she's got this locked up tighter Ft. Knox. She aint seen nothing yet!

Buffy pauses, then goes into the end of her routine, doing a
backwards double flip ending in the splits, arms raised in victory.
As she flips backward, the sign comes lose, fluttering to the floor
like confetti.

There is some applause as Buffy extricates herself from her splits.
She notices the paper on the floor, and picks it up. Reading it, she
realizes this has been on her back the whole time. How the… she
looks over at Harmony, who's smiling broadly, standing next to one
of the other candidates. Buffy's eyes narrow.

Ok, bitch. You want war? You got war!

Cordelia notices the look, and almost can't keep her laughter to
herself. Well, well! These try outs might be amusing after all.

"That was very… athletic, Buffy. If you would stand over there."
Cordelia points towards where Harmony is standing. This could get
really good, she chortles to herself.

Buffy smiles brightly at Cordelia, but as soon as she turns, her
smile disappears. Her face flushes as she huffs over to Harmony,
murder in her eye.

"Well, she must've seen something she liked," Harmony says to the
girl standing next to her, as Buffy draws near. "Couldn't see it
myself. God, can you get more clumsy than tripping over your own two
feet?"

The girl next to her snickers, then shuts up quickly as Buffy
approaches. Buffy cuts between the two girls, and shoves Harmony.

"What's the idea, Harmony?" Buffy growls at her. "Afraid of a little
competition?"

"From you, shorty? You're kidding, right?" Harmony sneers at
her. "Where'd you learn your routines? At the freak show you escaped
from?"

"Only freak I see around here is you," Buffy snipes at her. "
Guernsey girl. Half cow, half slut"

"Oh, I'm a slut, huh? Cordelia told me how you came on to the
bartender at bar the other night," she turns to one of the other
girls. " a GIRL bartender. Well, I guess you'd sleep with anything…"

"Not with a fido like you, Harm," Buffy sneers.

"Who's a fido?"

"If the collar fits, Fifi…"

"You stupid CUNT!"

Harmony, already full of jealous anger, loses it. She charges Buffy,
pushing and bitch slapping her. Buffy, frustrated, fearing losing
her spot on the squad because of Harmony, starts fighting back.

"FIGHT! FIGHT!"

The girls around the two start chanting, circling them.

Cordelia, hearing the shouting, looks over to see Harmony and Buffy
going at it. She pauses a second, an evil little smile playing over
her lips. Oh yeah, really good.

She pushes her way through the crowd, reaching the two combatants.
She shouts at the top of her voice.

"BREAK IT UP!" She turns, and spotting some of her squad, waves at
them.

"Get over here and break them up!" She barks at them.

The squad intervenes, separating the two girls. Both struggle,
trying to get at the other.

"Ok, this isn't wrestling, this is cheerleading. What the hell is
going on here?" Cordelia barks. Secretly, she very pleased at the
little exhibition. But she can't let that cat out of the bag, can
she?

"She started it!" Both point at the other.

"She attacked me!" Buffy growls, still struggling.

"She called me a dog!"

"She called me a slut!"

"You called me one first!"

"ENOUGH!" She claps her hands loudly.

Both girls subside, settling for shooting dirty looks at each other.

Cordelia puts her hands on her hips.

"This is cheerleading , girls. We work as a team around here, don't
know how you did it in L.A., but that's how it goes here." Cordelia
addresses this to Buffy, who blushes red. " And YOU, Harmony. You're
on the team. You know better. I expect more from YOU!" She scolds
the other blonde, who wilts like a flower in the desert. "What do
you two have to say for yourselves?" Would you look at them? Like
two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. This is gonna be
a fun year, I'm thinking. "Well? I'm waiting!"

"I'm sorry," Buffy says, as if the words hurt her mouth.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too" Harmony also seems to struggle with the words.

Hmmm… like clay. I just love playing with clay, Cordelia thinks to
herself, keeping a stern expression on her face.

"That's better," She raises her voice. "I want you ALL to hear this.
This is a team, folks. Like basketball or football. We work as a
team, for the benefit of the team. THERE IS NO PLACE FOR EGOS! GOT
IT?" She looks around at the others. "If you gotta beef, take it
outside. But if you do it while you're on my team, you can just keep
walking. Is that clear?"

There are general murmurs of assent.

"Ok, then. I have try outs to run," She looks at the two girls, who
won't quite meet her eye. " Can I trust you two not to get into it
again? Or would you just like to leave now?"

"Yes!"

"No!"

The two look at each other, throwing daggers with their eyes. Buffy
finally speaks up.

"Yes, you can trust us, and no we don't want to leave."

"Ok, then,"" Cordelia says. She turns to the group. "Ok, playtimes
over. Back to work!" She moves back to the front of the group. No
one sees the triumphant little look on her face.

"You better watch it, Buffy," Harmony hisses at her," Stay out of my
way. IF you make it on the squad!"

"Oh, I'll make it," Buffy says firmly, not looking at Harmony.

Not if I can help it, Bitch.

The rest of the auditions go relatively smoothly, and Cordelia
eliminates a number of girls. She moves on the second stage of
auditions.

She gathers the much smaller group of girls around, and addresses
them.

"Ok, ladies. I've weeded out the natural born clumsy, and it's down
to you. I want you to pair up in teams. Let's see…" she walks down
the line. " You… you…" she moves on down, " you… and you…." She
comes to where Harmony and Buffy are standing. " And you two…" She
looks at Harmony and Buffy. " Think you can work together now?"

"Yes," Buffy says. It strangely sounds like "if she doesn't get her
fat ass in my way."

"Yes," Harmony echoes, sounding more like, "If she tries anything,
I'll claw her eyes out."

"Fine. You two team up."

Both girls groan.

" Did I hear you says you wanted to leave?"

"No!"

"No!"

"Ok, then…" Cordelia continues down the line, picking the rest of
the teams.

Buffy and Harmony glare at each other, but don't say a word. Good
thing, this is a family story.

The rest of the auditions used the teams to show how well each
person could work with a partner, and in larger teams.

It was a comedy of errors.

Harmony and Buffy did their level best to sabotage each other, using
hip checks, misplaced feet, and every other method to make the other
look like an uncoordinated dork. They each retained a chilly
politeness towards each other, all the while doing their best to
make the other storm off.

Cordelia was in heaven. It had been awhile since two girls had
fought over her; Harmony pretty much frightened off any competition.

Buffy, however, with her own agenda, wasn't going to allow some cow
in a cheerleading costume scare her off. She gave tit for tat, and
didn't back down. She was going to get on this team if it killed
her. Or, preferably, Harmony!

It almost became an outright brawl when Harmony, grouped with a
couple of other teams to form a pyramid, deliberately hit Buffy
with her hip, causing her to teeter and fall out of place. The
pyramid collapsed like a house of cards.

"You stupid clumsy cow!" Harmony yelled at Buffy. "Can't you even
stay still long enough to hold up a pyramid?"

"WHAT?" Buffy yelled back at her, red faced. "You used those wide
load hips of yours to knock me out!"

"I so did not. I can't help it you're as graceful as an elephant
with broken ankles!"

"You've been trying to sabotage me all day!"

"Why bother? You're so clumsy, you couldn't make it anyway!"

"I'm gonna …."

"OK, ENOUGH!" Cordelia clapped her hands together.

The two started to square off, but Cordelia came between them. "I
said, Enough!"

"She tried to…"

"She's a big old …"

"Hit the showers, and cool off!" She turned to the others. " Ok,
Auditions are officially over. Hit the showers. The winners will be
posted on the bulletin board by the gym Monday!"

Buffy, seeing her chances starting to disappear, turns a deep
crimson red. She throws Harmony an evil look, then turns and storms
off towards the locker room. I'm gonna kill that bitch!

Harmony, equally angry, and jealous, storms off towards the locker
room, carefully avoiding the skank trying to take her Cordelia away
from her. Gonna grind that bitch's face into the dirt!

Cordelia watches the two angry girls and smiles to herself. She
can't remember the last time she enjoyed an audition so much.

Humming a little tune, she heads for the locker room.

"She's a weasel," Harmony complains to Aura as she changes in the
locker room. "I mean, did you see how clumsy she is? And then she
tries to blame me when she trips over her own feet. I mean, how
skanky is that?"

"I heard," Aura says, leaning in towards Harmony," That she like got
in major trouble in her old school, you know? Like, she and her
loser friends got mad and like trashed the gym or something."

"Well, it figures," Harmony shakes her head, "I mean, she obviously
can't work with others. Did you see how she totally wrecked the
pyramid today? She tried to show off, and ruined everything!"

Buffy, sitting in the next aisle, hears Harmony and Aura talking
about her, and does a slow burn. I should go over and smash in that
slut's face. She totally wrecked the pyramid, and then blames me. If
she hadn't been trying to sabotage me all day…

"… she such a loser," Harmony continues, "I mean, I don't even know
why she bothered to show up to try outs, anyway. Cordelia would
never put her on the team. I mean, we've got standards. She thinks
she's so hot, cuz she's from L.A., but she's just like white trash.
She lives over on Revello drive. Does that tell you anything?"

"Yeah, like her parents are such losers, they can't afford anything
in the decent part of town," Aura giggles. "And that sister of hers…
what's her name?"

"Dawn?"

"Yeah. Dawn. God, what kind of name is that?" Aura asks. "Anyway,
she's like so much a geek. Hangs out with that Loser Harris and
Willow Rosenberg. And you know what Rosenberg is right?"

"Yeah, total dyke. Doesn't admit it, but it's like common knowledge.
Wouldn't surprise me if her sister's a dyke, too. I mean, look who
she hangs out with!"

"Eeew… a lesbo?"

"Oh yeah," Harmony goes on, " Probably Buffy's one too. I mean, Cor
told me how she tried to come on to some bartender at this bar. God,
the Dyke sisters!"

Harmony is interrupted when she's shoved hard from behind. Turning,
she sees Buffy standing there, red faced.

"God, what's your trauma, bitch? That's the second time you shoved
me!"

"Shut your pie hole, you stupid cow. I don't care what you call me,
but you don't call my sister names!" She bangs her fist on the
locker. " Hear me, you fucking cunt?"

"Whatcha gonna do about it, Buffy?" Harmony sneers. "You little
pipsqueak, you couldn't whip cream. And it's not my fault your
sister's some kind of lesbo dyke. Maybe if you weren't one ..."

"Shut UP!" Buffy turns almost blood red. She starts advancing on
Harmony, who backs up. "You take it back, you scummy bitch!"

"Screw you, Summers…"

"Hey! HEY!" Cordelia appears around the corner. "What's going on?"
She goes over to Buffy, holding her back. "Chill out, girl!"

"Tell your attack dog to back off, Cordelia," Buffy says,
fuming. "I'm tired of her trashing me and my sister."

"Hard to trash trash, Buffy!" Harmony yells at her.

"Harmony?" Cordelia turns to her, frowning." Shut your pie hole!"

"But she…"

"Shut it, Harm!"

Harmony gives Buffy an evil look, but she shuts up and turns around.

"That stupid little bitch. I'm going to tear her bleached roots
outta her head!" Buffy tries to get around Cordelia, who holds her
fast. She turns the smaller girl around, and leads her away.

"C'mon, Buffy. Don't get all fried," Cordelia turns the smaller girl
around. "Walk with me."

Cordelia steers Buffy across the locker room away from Harmony and
the rest, and sits her down. Buffy sits there, face red, smacking
her palm in her fist.

Cordelia sits next to her, putting an arm around her
shoulders. "Hey, hey, c'mon, don't let Harmony get ya. She's a dumb
ass sometimes."

"I don't like anyone trashing my family," Buffy mutters, "She called
my sister a dyke!"

"Look, Harmony's a moron, ok? And, she doesn't have half your
talent, Buffy. I gotta admit, I was impressed today with your
audition." She smiles at Buffy. "You're really good!"

"Really? You think so?" Buffy looks at Cordelia, and returns the
smile. "Thanks"

"Look, I couldn't say it today, because I can't announce it until I
post the results, but you're on. You made it girl. You're on the
team."

Buffy looks at her suspiciously.

"You're not shitting me, are you?"

"No way. You're really good. We can so use you on the team. I want
to make the state championship this year."

Buffy squeals, and impulsively hugs Cordelia.

"Thanks! That's so great. Wow!" She wraps her arms around Cordelia,
hugging her tight.

Cordelia hugs her back, rubbing her back. Mmmm… nice and soft… nice
tits, too…

"Hey, it's cool," Cordelia lingers a bit, enjoying the feel of
Buffy's body next to hers. "I know talent when I see it."

"What about Harmony?" Buffy breaks the hug, sitting back. "She's
like your best friend. I don't think she wants me on the team. No,
wait. I know she doesn't."

"I run the team, Buffy. Not Harmony," Cordelia leans in a bit. " Can
I be straight with you?"

"Yeah…"

"Harmony… look, Harmony wouldn't even be on the team, if she weren't
like my oldest friend. I mean, the girl's got no rhythm, know what I
mean? I've tried dropping anvils, to get her to quit, but she's kind
of thick, you know?"

"Tell me about it," Buffy nods.

"She wants to be a cheerleader, so cuz we like go back forever, I
keep her around. But frankly, if she starts making trouble for you,
just let me know. If I have to choose between you, I'm gonna choose
you, Buffy." Cordelia stares directly into Buffy's eyes. "Get it?"

Buffy has a slightly strange feeling, but she puts it down to
nerves. C'mon, Buffy, don't wig now. This is your chance.

"Thank, Cordelia," Buffy smiles at her. "I won't let you down."

Oh, believe me baby, I won't let ya, Cordy smiles at Buffy, licking
her lips, when I'm done with ya, you'll be begging me to… Cordy
feels a shiver go through herself.

"Hey, you're coming to the party tomorrow night, right? I mean, it's
really important to me that you be there."

"Sure, Cordelia. I'll be there."

"Call me Cor," Cordelia smiles, "All my friends do."

Buffy smiles. "Sure, Cor. You can count on me."

"Cool. Now, get cleaned up. And, be ready to work your tail off
starting next week. You're good, but you still need some work,
baby." She gives Buffy a playful smack on the behind. "Get going.
Take a shower, you're starting to stink up the place."

"Ok, Cor," Buffy starts to walk off. "See ya tomorrow."

"Yeah, seeya, Buff," Cordelia watches Buffy walk off, admiring the
nice little swing to her ass. She licks her lips.

Yeah, baby. Be seein' a lot more of ya. Real soon.

Chuckling, she makes her way back to her locker.

"You put her on the team? WHY?" Harmony paces back and forth in
front of Cordelia.

It's later, after the other girls have gone. Harmony and Cordelia
are alone in the locker room. Harmony is half dressed, as is
Cordelia.

"Harm, you're not listening," Cordelia says, an impatient edge to
her voice. "I told her I put her on the team. It's all part of the
plan."

"Huh?"

"Harm, I told you I had plans to take the snotty little bitch down a
few pegs, right?"

"Yeah… how does being on the team do that?"

"She's NOT on the team Harmony. C'mon, keep up!"

"I don't understand."

"Well, duh!" Cordelia says, shaking her head. "I told her on the
team, cuz I'm trying to win her confidence, and it worked. She's so
gonna be at the party tomorrow night. That's the plan, remember?"

"Yeah…" Harmony says doubtfully. "What was the plan again."

God, why do I attract the mentally challenged, anyway?

"We go to the party. We get her drunk. I slip her something, and
she's like half out of it. I take pictures of her having sex with
one or more of the College jocks, and on Monday, I pass them out.
Viola, she's like the whore of Sunnydale High. She'll never recover
from that."

"Oh, yeah!" Harmony smiles. Then she frowns. "But then what?"

"What?"

"I mean, after. Then what?"

"What're you babbling about, Harm?"

"I saw the way you look at her. Like you want to get in her pants.
What's that about?"

Cordelia looks at Harmony. She smiles.

"Harmony Kendall. I do believe you're jealous!" Cordelia slides over
closer to her. "Are you jealous, Harm?"

"What? Of that skank? You're kidding, right?"

"C'mon, Harm. I saw you today. You were so trying to make her look
bad."

"I was NOT!" Harmony insists. "I can't help she's clumsy…"

"Harm…" Cordelia says in that ' don't try to BS me, girl' voice.

"Well, ok, maybe I was. I mean, you've been all obsessed with her
and everything, and it's totally bogus because…"

"Well, I thought it was cute," Cordelia says, with a slight mocking
tone to her voice. "you getting all jealous, over me."

"Really?" Harmony looks at Cordelia hopefully. "You're just making
fun of me, aren't you?"

"Oh, no, baby," Cordelia slips her arm around Harmony's waist,
resting her hand on her thigh.

Harmony has a major tingle moment.

"I mean, it's really sweet you feeling that way, you know?" Cordelia
pushes her breast against Harmony's arm. "You know how much I care
about you, don't you baby?"

Harmony melts like a snow cone in July. She moves into Cordelia's
embrace.

"I care about you too, Cor," Harmony says, her voice growing
husky. "A lot."

"Hmmmm… maybe you should show me?" Cordelia swings her leg over the
bench, and raises her skirt.

Harmony, seeing Cordelia's lace thong barely covering her most
intimate spot, licks her lips.

"Maybe I should, " Harmony says, slipping off the bench.

Cordelia leans back and smiles. She thinks about another blond as
Harmony does her best to make her feel very, very good.

That Buffy is one sexy little number. I'm thinking after Saturday,
she's going to be very open to new experiences. Oh yeah… very open.

If she knows what's good for her…

4

Joyce settles at her desk, pushing aside the lunch her stomach
simply refuses to accept.

She pulls open her desk drawer, and pulls out a folder she put in
there this morning. Opening it up, she sees the divorce papers Hank
signed.

Even though this is what she wanted, it's still hard for her to
accept it's real. All she has to do now is file the papers with the
court, and after a brief waiting period, she'll be divorced.

She can't help feeling a sense of loss. I spent twenty years in this
marriage… over half my life. And now, it's gone… done. It wasn't all
bad times; there are good times she and Hank had together. It's just
hard to pinpoint where it went wrong. Was it when Hank decided to
leave the firm he was with and strike out on his own? The late
nights, the lost time together, the vacations we didn't take? If
we'd been together more, would it have made a difference?

She can't help feeling some responsibility. Even though she's sure
she tried her best to make the marriage work, there's always the '
could I have done something different? Something better?' question
that bounces around in the mind. Oh yeah, Hank started it by
cheating on me. But maybe I didn't always understand his needs,
either? Maybe I should've tried to understand what went wrong; tried
harder to make it better.

Joyce is a smart, intelligent, driven woman. Her marriage failed.
Failure is never easy to accept.

I'm going to have to tell Dawn and Buffy. Oh, that's going to be
pleasant. Especially with Buffy. I know she blames me for her dad
running around; I guess it's easier to blame me. I'm around to
blame. And Dawnie, despite her more even temper, is going to be hurt
and confused by this. God, please, just don't let her act out like
Buffy. Let me somehow reach her, help her through it. Let her know
that her father does love her… at least, let her think that.
Sometimes, I'm not sure what Hank loves.

Oh boy. What if he carries out his little threat? What if it's not
over? What if he … stop it, Joyce! Stop it now. Going there isn't
going to help things. I just … really shocked him. Hank's weak, and
a player, and a cheat… but he's not a violent man… not really.

He hit you, Joyce. That shows violence. Bad violence.

He just was frustrated. He couldn't deal with the fact that it was
really over, and not on his terms.

GOD, Joyce! You're not married to him anymore, and you're STILL
defending him.

"Joyce?"

Joyce, startled, looks up to see Taylor standing at her office door.
Recovering her composure quickly, she stands.

"Taylor? What is it? Is anything wrong?" Joyce notices the look of
concern on Taylor's face.

"No, I just… well, I was wondering if you had a minute?"

"I really should get to these proofs for the catalogue, Taylor…" She
sweeps her hand over the piles of galley proofs on her desk.

"Oh. Well, you seemed to be … well… daydreaming a little. And I need
to talk to you, and I was wondering if now might be a good time?"

Joyce smiles a little ruefully, and waves to the chair in front of
the desk. She sits.

"Well, yeah, I guess now would be as good as any."

Taylor closes the door behind her and sits where Joyce indicated.
Joyce, a little surprised, leans back in her chair, wondering how
serious this little talk is going to be.

"So, hon, what can I do for you?"

Taylor looks at Joyce, then blushes lightly, and turns away. She
bites her lip, which Joyce can't help but think is the tiniest bit
adorable.

Why is she so tongue tied? I can't be THAT much of an ogre of a
boss. Can I?

"Taylor? Are you ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine, Joyce. I'm… well, I'm just having a hard time coming
out and saying what … are you bi?"

Joyce looks at Taylor blankly. Taylor, for her part, blushes deeply.

Nice one, real nice. She's so going to fire your butt for that,
Taylor!

"Excuse me? I'm not sure I understand?" Joyce looks at Taylor,
feeling a little confused. "Bi?"

Taylor shifts uncomfortably in her chair, looking at her hands; she
definitely doesn't want to look at Joyce. Finally, however she
raises her eyes, and nods.

"Yeah, Bi. Bisexual. That is, you kinda like men AND women… know
what I mean…?"

"Taylor, I'm married. What gives you the idea to ask that particular
question?"

"Well, I saw you at the club last night, Joyce, and the client? Was
a young woman, but you told me in the bathroom it was a man," Taylor
looks at her, "And, well, frankly, I saw what you two were doing…"
She smiles, a little embarrassed. "Actually, you looked quite… well,
familiar with each other?"

Joyce can hear the sound of her world crashing down around her. It
isn't a pleasant sound. Oh, god…

"Taylor, look, I can explain…"

"No need to explain, Joyce. I mean, I kind of figured it out… no… I
mean, look, I'm not sure exactly what I mean, except I wanted to
tell you I'm cool with it. That's what I was trying to tell you last
night. I knew you weren't with a guy, and I was sort of trying to
draw you out…" She gets a slightly uncomfortable look on her
face. "Just, the thing is, aren't you like, married?"

Joyce, you're rather screwed here. You can either deny it, and
Taylor will know your lying, or let her in on it, and hope she'll
keep your secret.

Oh, this is really so not how I wanted things this time. Really, I
didn't.

"Taylor, can I speak with you frankly?"

"Sure, of course, Joyce," Taylor says, leaning in.

"I want to show you something, but I need to keep it on the QT for
now, ok? I mean, you can't tell anyone, do you understand?"

"Yes, sure. I get it," Taylor says in a conspiratorial tone.

Joyce opens a drawer in her desk, and pulls out the file folder with
the divorce papers in it. She opens it, and hands it over to Taylor.

Taylor reads over the document, then looks up at Joyce, wide-eyed.

"You're getting a divorce!" She says in a loud voice.

Joyce cringes a little, and frowns.

"Taylor? A little more quietly, please?"

"Oh, sorry," Taylor blushes, "you're getting a divorce?" She asks,
almost whispering.

"Yes, I am. Right now, things are a little… difficult, so I need you
to be discreet, if you know what I mean? I really need you to keep
what you know to yourself."

Taylor looks at her blankly.

"Taylor, my business deals with a lot of wealthy clients. Wealthy
people tend to be conservative…" Joyce sighs. "I don't think they'd
understand me being with someone else, not being exactly divorced
yet. Especially another woman. Do you understand?"

"Oh… sure, Joyce, I get it," Taylor nods.

"My business is built on reputation, and well… if this got out, I
could be out of business."

"Don't worry, Joyce, I won't tell anyone. Not even Billy. I promise!"

"Nobody, Taylor, promise?"

"I promise."

"Ok, well… hmmm… you asked me if I'm Bi? I really don't know the
answer to that question. I mean, I've never felt like this… felt
love like this… for another woman, you see? And I'm not interested
in other woman, particularly."

"I can get that. I mean, I guess there always has to be a first,
right?"

"Well, I'm not looking for a second, if you understand my meaning,"
Joyce smiles a little. "I've never been particularly adventurous,
sexually, you know? I mean, well… Hank was my first…"

"Hank?" Taylor asks, "Your husband Hank?"

"Soon to be ex-husband, yes."

"You mean you never like… well, fooled around in college or
anything?" Taylor can't believe her ears.

"No! I mean, well, I wasn't a prude or anything," Joyce adds,
picking up Taylor's tone, "but it never was an issue. I mean, it
wasn't a big part of my life…"

Taylor looks at her, a puzzled expression on her face. She starts to
say something, then stops, then finally just blurts it out.

"Ok, I don't get it. You told me that Hank was your only…well, he
was your first and only person you had sex with. You say you never
like, experimented in college, or anything. But I saw you with a
woman, and you were… well, it was… I'm really confused here…" She
looks Joyce in the eye. "How'd you wind up with the hottie?"

Joyce isn't sure whether to be insulted, or amused. She chooses the
later, chuckling a little.

"I'm sure Faith will be happy to know you think she's a hottie. She
mentioned she thought you had a cute butt."

Taylor blushes pink. "I wasn't trying to … oh, gosh, I've messed
this up. All I meant was, you've only really been with one man in
your life, not even with a woman before. How'd you decide to go
after Faith?" She looks at Joyce questioningly. "The name is Faith,
right?"

Joyce nods.

"Actually, I didn't go after her… she went after me."

"Huh?" Taylor is stunned.

Again, Joyce would be offended, except Taylor seems to be genuinely
curious; not condescending. She outlines what happened in Boston
over the summer, and the events that happened after, including
whatever Faith told her about their time apart. She abbreviates
where she can, but even so it's nearly an hour before she winds up
her tale. She leaves out the part about Hank hitting her, figuring
that was private. And she didn't want to get into that aspect of it.
God, just as long as he's gone!

By the end of it, Taylor is sitting across from Joyce, tears
streaming down her eyes.

"Oh my god, that's just so, so romantic! She just like, showed up
here, like that old movie with that old guy in it?"

Joyce is a little confused by Taylor's reference. "Old movie? Old
guy?"

"Yeah, you know, that old guy. Good looking… oh… darn… the rich guy
in ' Pretty Woman'. You know, he played in some old movie… he was
like a Navy guy, and what's-her-face , you know, the one that played
the stripper?… was like this girl on the wrong side of the tracks or
something, and they can't be together for some reason, but then he
shows up at the factory that she works, all dressed up in like a
navy uniform, and he goes and picks her up and carries her off and
they live happily every after?"

It takes Joyce a while to digest and process this.

"Oh, are you talking about Richard Gere and Debra Winger? An
Officer and a Gentlemen? That movie?"

"Yeah, that's it! That old movie, right!" Taylor nods. " Faith is
like that Gere dude, and you're like Debra Winger, well, except
she's from the wrong side of the tracks, and you're like the
respectable one and well… ok, maybe that wasn't so close, but it was
romantic like that, see? And like that Gere dude, she came here
after you, right?"

I wonder how Faith would feel being compared to Richard Gere? I
mean, I don't mind being compared to Debra Winger… she's kind of
well, sexy, but … Joyce smiles at Taylor. Still, even with the silly
comparison it was nice to actually talk to somebody about this. God,
this is the first time I've actually told anyone! It feels… good!

"I can see what you mean. I guess it does sort of seem like that, a
little," Joyce nods, smiling. "Just, well… it's been kind of hard,
and now with the divorce going forward and all, I need things to be
successful here at the gallery. I can't count on Hank in any real
way, financially. So, this has to be just between you and me, ok?"

"Yeah, sure Joyce, I got that. Zip the lips. Quiet as a mouse,"
Taylor makes a motion with her hand across her mouth, "So, how did
the girls take it?"

Joyce makes a little face.

"Joyce, they don't know?"

"No, they don't…" Joyce sighs.

"About any of it? The Divorce?"

Joyce shakes her head. "I really… after I came back here with Hank,
I really wanted to make it work. I thought we could patch it up,
make it work. Especially since I thought Faith was gone for good.
But that… Hank didn't want that, I see that now. He was just looking
out for himself, again, and after awhile, he just started back in
his old ways again…" Joyce shakes her head," And the divorce was
just settled last night, really, so I haven't had time to really
tell them yet." Joyce sighs deeply this time. "I know that Buffy in
particular isn't going to take it well."

"Well, what did Faith say when you told her?"

"I haven't had time to tell Faith," Joyce says, her brow wrinkling a
little. "This isn't something you can like do over the phone, you
know? And there just hasn't been time yet." She looks around the
office, as if trying to find something to hold on to. "This is going
to change things between us. I mean, I know she's going to be happy
about it, and all. And I'm happy and all. But this is … well, it
changes things," She looks at Taylor with some concern. "I'm kind of
scared. She's going to have expectations. And the girls? How are
they going to take us… me and Faith… being together? And…" she
trails off, shaking her head.

Taylor gets up, and comes to Joyce, giving her a hug. "Poor Joyce.
You sound like you're living in a soap opera!"

"I know, I know. It's crazy, isn't it?" She laughs a little. "God, I
wish I could just go in a coma for like 8 months. And when I wake
up? Everything is magically fixed." She lets out a little sigh. "It
never works that way though, does it?"

"Not for anyone I know," Taylor agrees. She breaks the hug and walks
back towards the door.

"Well, thanks for listening to me vent, Taylor," Joyce smiles

"I hope you know, any time you need to talk… about it, any of it?
You can talk to me, ok?" Taylor says, turning around. "I'd like to
think we're friends too, not just boss and employee."

"I'd like that." Joyce changes the subject, still a little
embarrassed baring her soul that much. "Uh, how is the set up for
the Giroux exhibition this evening?"

"Almost done," Taylor nods, realizing Joyce wants to get back to
business. " The back gallery has been cleared out, and the paintings
are being hung as we speak."

"Very good. We need to have everything in place by 7 p.m. Could you
check on it, make sure Tom gets it done properly? And, contact the
caterers, make sure they have the refreshments here by 6:30."

"On it Joyce," Taylor starts out, then pauses. "Hope you get
everything worked out ok." She walks into the main room of the
gallery.

Everything ok? God, that'll be the day.

Joyce leans back in her chair, hands behind her head. She stares at
a spot on the ceiling. She knows she should call Faith, talk to her.
Tell her aboutHank and the divorce and the rest. She knows this
will be a major change in her relationship.

She knows this, and hesitates.

She thinks about what Faith said last night. About needing to think
things over. Get an idea of what she wants out of this relationship.
Am I losing her? Did I waffle too long? Is she wanting more, and I'm
just not willing to give it to her? God, if I lose her… Joyce
doesn't even want to go there.

Call her! Talk to her!

Joyce reaches for the phone, picks it up, and pauses. No, this can't
be done on the phone. Meet her somewhere…

She dials the number for Faith's cell phone.

The phone rings and rings, and finally her voice mail answers.

"Hi, this is Faith. Can't make it to the phone right now, I'm all
tied up. Leave your name, phone number and a brief message, and I'll
get back to you as soon as I figure how to untie these knots…"

Joyce snorts a laugh. God, that's so her!

"Faith, this is Joyce. 555-7243. I really need to talk to you. Meet
with you. Call me back as soon as you get this message. Thanks,
honey."

Joyce hangs up the phone, and she suddenly realizes something. She's
never reached Faith's voicemail before.

God, Joyce. She's got a life. And is trying to get into college, and
is working. What, you expect her to wait by the phone until you
deign to call her? A little selfish, don't you think?

Still, as she sits back in her chair again, she can't help wondering
if she should be a little worried.

Or a lot worried.

5

"Whatta pit!"

Buffy stands close to the entrance to the Bronze, looking in at the
main floor. She makes a semi-disgusted face.

It's Friday night in Sunnydale in the only cool place in the town(if
you don't count the videogames at the Burger King), and the club is
wall to wall people. There's a live band onstage… Well, if you call
that a band. Sounds like they just escaped the garage band circuit…
barely… and the dance floor is packed. She looks around with a
slightly sinking feeling.

How the heck am I supposed to find them in this? Do I really want
to find them in this? She rolls her eyes. She promised her mom
she'd look in on Dawn's date, make sure it was going ok and that
Xander wasn't getting too forward. Geeze, mom, Dawn is like 16. She
can handle herself, right? Oh, and playing mom's spy? Just so much a
bonus.

Still, she didn't want to piss off her mother. She did lift the
grounding, and she even let me go to the party tomorrow night. Of
course, I didn't mention it was a college party. That would've made
it so over. A little creative bending of the truth… ok, lying… and
she thinks it's in SunnyD… at Cordelia's house. Well, she'll never
know the diff, and I know she wouldn't let me go to a college party.
God, I'm 18 mom, not a kid…ok, well, almost 18 … still…

Just find Dawn so you can say you did your duty, and can get outta
here. She's got to be around here somewhere…

Not looking where she's going, she bumps into someone.

"Hey, sorry," Buffy blushes.

"No prob," The person turns around. "I'm kind of used to getting run
into. Happening a lot lately… whoa, Buffy! Hi! Didn't expect to see
you here!" Willow smiles.

"Willow, hey," Buffy says, "You seen my sister?"

"She's with Xander."

"Yeah, I knew that. I was wondering if you saw her here, tonight?
Mom wants me to check up on her. I just love being like her
watchdog," Buffy smirks.

"I meant, she's with Xander," Willow points over to one of the
alcoves. "We have a table over there. Wanna come with?"

"We? You mean you're here with Xander and Dawn? On their date?"

"Oh yes? Didn't you know? We've got a thing going, the three of us.
We plan on having a ménage a trois later." She lets out a slightly
dramatic sigh. "Ours is a forbidden and slightly kinky love!"

TBC.