Trials and Restorations

Trials and Restorations:-

~ Part 3 ~

"And then I told her that everything'd be alright... Then she looked up at me and I kissed her real soft... And it felt like we'd never been away from each other. Like everything was back to normal, y'know?"

Joyce nodded. "Then what happened?" she asked, quietly.

"Nothing," Faith replied, inserting the card from her hand and into the machine. "I didn't wanna push it, so I left to go and find you. I figured that when I brought you home, everything'd fall back into place." She looked to the pin-prompt screen. "What d'you reckon her pin is?"

Reading from an ID card taken from the purse in her arms, Joyce told the slayer, "Try fourteen, eleven."

Keying in the numbers, Faith looked around alarmed as the ATM audibly informed the user that the pin she had entered was incorrect.
"Two more chances, J," she uttered, smiling at intrusive by-standers.

"There are no other four digit numbers, I can see from in here. It must be something else."

"We gotta give it a shot," the slayer told her junior, assisting her in looking through the woman's personal items.

"Oh..Er...Try fourteen, sixty-nine," Joyce instructed.

Doing so, the brunette slayer breathed a sign of relief as she the machine asked for the withdrawal amount. She laughed,
as she chose to take out four hundred Euros.
"Serves her right for making her pin her birth date," Faith told the soldier, taking the money and pocketing it. When she found the adolescent un-amused, she qualified, "I'm kidding, J. I'm gonna put it back when we get home. Ok?"

Taking the girl by the hand, the two of them walked back to the seating area of the airport, looking up when approached by a young woman.

Seating herself astride the taller brunette and with a, "Here you are," the woman handed her a packet.

Opening the pack, Faith verified its content. "Are you sure these'll work?"

"One hundred percent. They'll get you in, but you have to make sure you get rid of them when you get home, because they'll start to trace them."

"Ok," Faith agreed, handing the woman the money.

"Enjoy your trip," the brunette told her, checking the amount before leaving the girls and resuming her original position near the duty-free stores.

"C'mon," the slayer told Joyce, taking her by the hand and walking to an airline information desk. "Hi," she greeted its staff. "Is it too late to get a flight to America today?"

"Not at all," Faith was told. The man clicked away at his computer. "Now, because it's last minute, it's going to be a little
more expensive."

"Not a problem," the brunette assured him, handing over her newly acquired credit card.

"We actually have a flight leaving for the States in two hours. It's going to JFK. You can make it if we hurry."

"Sure, yeah. Put us on it."

"Ok. How would you like to travel?"

"Do you have any space on first class?"

"Yes."

"Then first class."

"Ok. That'll be two thousand, five hundred Euros."

Nodding, Faith looked to a worried Joyce, the both of them hoping that the credit card would be authorised.

"If you could just enter your pin number here," the receptionist prompted.

"No problem," the slayer replied, doing so.

"Ok then, Miss Vriesman. Enjoy your flight."

"We will," Faith assured him with a smile.

---------------------------

"Her car's not in the drive," Faith noticed, approaching the door bearing the number sixteen hundred and thiry of Rovello Drive. She slowed down and allowed Joyce to overtake her.
"Kiddo, you knock. I can't feel my hands."

Laughing, Joyce pressed the bell. She looked up as the door was opened by a man seemingly in his twenties. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Hi," the soldier started. "We're looking for a Buffy Summers. She lived here."

"I'm sorry, Doctor Summers doesn't live here any more," The tall male told them. He added, "Why don't you try the clinic in the
morning, you might have some luck there."

"D'you have a forwarding address?" Faith interjected. "The clinic's not open 'til Monday and we need to see her tonight."

"I'm sorry," the older brunette replied, his tone sympathetic as he shook his head.

"Ok," Joyce conceded. "We'll do that. Thank you for your time."

"No problem," the man replied, closing the door to the strangers on his doorstep.

"Who was that?" his wife asked, as he entered their living room.

"Some kid and her mom looking for Doctor Summers," he told her, resuming his seat beside her on their sofa.

"Why didn't you let them in?"

"Because, baby, work is work and home is home - they shouldn't mix. Don't worry, I told them to go down to the clinic on Monday and see you there." When his wife's expression refused to change, he added. "Plus, you know how it ticks me off when people call you by your maiden name, Mrs. Anderson."

Rolling her eyes, the slayer smiled, as she received her husband's kiss.


TBC..