Trials and Restorations

~ Part 6 ~

Walking into Sunnydale's brightly lit psychiatric clinic, Faith strolled up to the receptionist's desk, holding Joyce by the hand.

"Hi," she started, prompting Joyce to also greet the clerk before continuing. "I-"

"You were here yesterday," the desk clerk observed, chiming in. "Looking for Buffy."

"Yeah," Faith replied. "Is she here?"

"Yes," the man replied, smiling. "Let me give her a call and tell her you're here. The name was..?"

"Faith."

"Okay," the receptionist replied, dialing a number on the phone.
Listening for a few moments, he looked up. "It's busy," he told them, dropping the receiver. "Just take a seat and wait."

"Can you point us to her office? It's real urgent." the slayer pleaded. "C'mon man we can't keep coming back."

"Sure," the man appreciated. "It's down that hall, turn left. Follow that hall way to the end and it's the last brown door."

"Cool, thanks." She motioned to Joyce, "Kiddo, c'mon."

Following the brunette, Joyce made her way with the slayer down the hall, turned left and found the door at the end of the second corridor, reading the names on each door they passed.

"Jesus!" Faith cursed reading the engraved-plaque on the brown door at the end of the hall. "The moron thinks we're looking for a freaking Dr. Anderson." She knocked loudly on the door. "Maybe D.A. can tell us where she is."

Listening for a reply and not getting one, the slayer huffed. "Aargh! I'm gonna go back and get proper directions." She
told the youngster.

"Okay, I'm right behind you," Joyce replied. "I'm going to try and see if I can find it myself. I'll look down here and then come and find you."

Laughing at the blonde's eagerness, Faith nodded and made her way back toward reception. Looking around, Joyce decided to go in the opposite direction, standing completely still when she heard a familiar voice from behind her ask,

"I'm sorry, I was on the phone. Can I help you?"

Turning, the youngster looked to woman asking the question, barely able to utter, "Mom?"

Glaring dumbfounded, Buffy felt herself experience a double-take and immediately recognising the girl standing in front of her. Falling to her knees, she opened her arms and caught her child as the eleven year old sped into her. "Joyce," the slayer whispered. "Where..? What..? Oh God, Joyce."

"Mom," Joyce repeated with a smile. Beholding the woman she had obsessed about seeing every day for as long as she could remember, she beamed. Stroking her mother's long, now golden curls. Joyce noticed that besides her hair, the slayer had not changed. "I've missed you so much," she whispered. "They told me I'd never see you again, but
you're here."

Gazing at the youngster in her arms, the slayer asked, "Who told you? Where did they take you?"

"To the army. In the army. We were there forever and we had to keep moving everywhere-" Joyce std, bd, before an interruption forced her to stop.

"Buffy?"

Hearing her name, the slayer stood up, wiping the tears emerging from her eyes.
"Oh God, Scott. Look. This is Joyce; my Joyce. My daughter- Joyce."

"Your daughter?" He asked, dazed. He looked to the smaller blonde, the resemblance between she and his wife extremely obvious. Joy Joyce," he added, the surprise he was feeling written all over his features.

Recognising the man from a few nights before, Joyce shook his extended hand, realising what she felt she should have before.
Silently seething, remembering how he had turned her and Faith away, she let go and looked to her mother.

"Let's go inside," Buffy decided, leading the crowd into her office and closing the door behind them. Silent for a while as both her
husband and daughter seated themselves, she inhaled deeply before moving to kneel beside Joyce. Still in awe, the slayer could think of no other question but, "Are you hungry?"

"No," Joyce replied. "I ate already."

Nodding, the slayer looked at the girl unable to mask her joy. "Joyce, how did you..?" She stopped. "You know what, why don't
we save the questions?"

"Please, because I have to go to the restroom."

Taken aback, the young mother offered, "I'll take you."

"No. Mom, I can find it. I'll be right back."

"Sure, it's the third door after..." the psychiatrist began, letting her voice trail when her seemingly uninterested youngster bolted out of the room. Reluctant to not chase after her, Buffy decided to give the child space. Watching after her, she stated, "My God. Scott, that was her. I didn't just dream that, did I? That was Joyce. My little girl."

Standing up and holding his wife, the brunette affirmed, "Apparently so."

"And she's back," the slayer uttered as if to force herself to believe it.

Looking at the petite blonde and feigning shared excitement, he repeated, "And she's back."

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"Yeah, she left," the receptionist told the young girl. Fiddling with paperwork on his desk, he told her. "Now you have to go; I'm busy, busy, busy."

"With what?" the blonde asked. "You were playing on your cell when I got here."

"I wasn't playing. I was sending vital infor-"

"This is really important," Joyce interrupted. "About Faith, when you say she left, what do you mean? She wouldn't have just left. What happened?"

"She came here about five minutes ago, telling me that my directions were 'wack' and she asked for Doctor Summers' office. I told her Doctor Summers had changed her name earlier this year and she left." He added, "Sorry, kid."

"Oh, God. Did she look mad?" Joyce asked.

"A little, yes," the clerk replied. "What is your deal with the Andersons?"

"No deal," the youngster told him. "Just…Can you ring my mom's office and tell her that I have to go and take care of something;
that I'll see her at her house later?"

"Sure," the receptionist replied, picking up the receiver. "What's her name and number?"

"Buffy," Joyce told him. "Buffy's my mom."

"No way! Doctor Anderson has a daughter? She never said. What's your name, kid?"

"I don't have time for this," the girl told him in a hurry and leaving. "Just tell her, okay?" she called behind her.


TBC...