Portal

"But what was that about?"

"The guy is an idiot. He thinks that a fine bon mot is a decent vintage; he doesn't know shit about wine. He just works at his Dad's vineyard and uses alcohol to make up for his lack of personality. They don't produce much wine, but they let all the kids work there over the summer. They don't mind if they're all drunk or cained. Laid back maybe but I always get a bad vibe from those guys, and his place is about five miles away, and I wouldn't want a skinny wee thing like you wandering about in the wilderness all alone."

"No, I meant about me staying here?" she replied overlooking the 'skinny wee' jibe.

"Why, do you want to go stay with him?"

"God no, I'd rather eat my own head," Buffy snipped back.

"Look, I think it's pretty obvious you're not a student."

"No I am...I'm studying, er, computer science."

"Now I know you're lying," Joe said with a serious tone that caused Buffy's fallacy to crumble before her. "Are you like on the run or something?"

"Or something," the slayer whispered back as her head dropped until she stared at her hands that fidgeted nervously in her lap.

"You wanna use the phone, call your folks maybe? Hang on, I'll be right back," Joe said as she went to serve two vodka's to a gurning duo of bikers.

'Use the phone? And call who exactly? I'm not even born yet. Angel? I have no idea where he was in the seventies and Giles is still in England doing his 'Ripper' thing. Sunnydale is out as what would I do once I got there? That portal dumped me here so there must be some kind of mystical doodad thingy going on here so maybe it'll open up again once I've slayed whatever needs slaying. I'll just have to wait it out.'

Whilst watching Joe share a joke with her loyal customers, the slayer's peripheral vision accosted a hand that was stealthily sneaking into the brimming full tip jar. Chipped nails grabbed at a twenty that hung slightly over the rim but as he pulled it down, before he could slip it into the pocket of his flared pantaloons, Buffy slammed her hand on top of his and began to squeeze.

"What's your name?" she asked as she looked him deep in the startled eyes as the crack of knuckles permeated the unasked for introduction.

"W-w-why?"

"I like to know the names of people whose asses I'm about to kick."

"J-John," he grimaced under Buffy's tightening grip.

"John?"

"Y-y-yeah", he groaned with a voice that was rapidly becoming alto.

"Just go," Buffy sighed as she let his rapidly bruising hand go not wanting to disrupt her evening that had been otherwise free of the pugilistic arts.

The embarrassed would-be thief just cradled his pasty fingers and fled through the door and off into the fast approaching twilight of the evening.

"Thanks girlfriend, that was pretty sweet. There's always some jerk trying to rip me off," Joe said as she returned to Buffy wiping her hand on a checkered bar towel.

"No problem, I don't like seeing people take advantage of someone like that," she said as she put the bill back in the jar.

Joe just flashed those resistance crumbling, libido enhancing dimples and before she even could think about it Buffy blurted out the question she had not intended to ask. Not directly at least.

"Were you serious about that? About me staying here I mean?"

"Sure, you seem pretty honest and that's a rare quality and one my Dad, God rest his soul..." Joe said as she made the sign of the cross over her curvaceous torso, "held above all others. I loved the way you handled that guy and I really could use a girl like you around here. But if there's one thing my dear old Dad taught me it was there's no such thing as a free ride."

Buffy gulped as a cavalcade of sordid thoughts about what kind of 'service' she would be asked to provide echoed around her mind.

"I'm not going to sleep with you," Buffy whispered coyly.

"What? What kind of girl do you take me for? I meant you work here, y'know collecting glasses and washing dishes and shit. You can crash in the back if you want. There's a cot in the store room, just as long as you're not a murderer or something," Joe smiled kindly.

Buffy digested the offer and weighed up her options. She could either sleep outside in the bushes with no food and be pestered by a horny dog and a sleazy stoner, or she could be a dishpig for a while. It wasn't glamorous, but then again beheading demons and wading through corpses wasn't either.

"Ok, I'll do it."

"Good girl. You can take a shower if you want, I think you need it. The bathroom's out the back, up the stairs, and the second on the left. There's a change of clothes up there too...I'm taking a chance on you here, Buffy, I trust you won't let me down," she ended seriously.

"No, I won't let you down Fai...er, Joe," she corrected herself and went into the back room.

Thirty minutes later, a thoroughly cleansed and somewhat eager Buffy re-appeared behind the bar.

"Ready Boss," she said affirmatively with a salute.

Joe eyed her new employee up and down. The bell-bottomed jeans suited the blonde as did the flowery peasant blouse that caressed her in all the right places with her crucifix pendant catching the artificial light and twinkling brightly.

"Wow, girl. You scrub up well," Joe said as Buffy blushed a little. "Ok, I'm behind the bar so all you gotta do is take this tray, collect the empties, and go and wash them up. Couldn't be easier, lucky for you we stopped serving food now."

"That's handy 'cos I suck at cooking."

"Good to know, now go get 'em tiger," Joe encouraged with a mock coach glower.

As Buffy set about collecting the glasses with her borrowed low-slung heels bouncing off the pristine hardwood floor, she paused as she felt peculiar. It wasn't the tingle she felt whenever the undead were circling, nor was it the ever present ennui she felt when Giles was in full research mode. It was a long forgotten, almost alien feeling for her.

It was one of safety, of secureness, at being shown such kindness without reward or the threat of violence. She felt she could be happy here, away from the life she had been forced to lead. But in her heart she knew this was but a brief vacation from the world of slayers and their calling. But she couldn't escape the feeling that she was here to kill as why else would she be here if not to stop a demon of some kind?

"You ok, Buffy?" Joe asked with genuine concern as the blonde stood motionless trapped in her own thoughts.

"Er yeah...fine, I, er, I better...do... work...do some work, I mean," she replied a little shyly as she took the tray and began to pile up the glasses on her tray.

* * *

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*

As she wiped and rinsed glass after glass she secretly pondered how people actually lived in a time before dishwashers. It was an endlessly repetitive cycle and though it was little more than an hour or two, Buffy felt like she had been wrist deep in suds and hot water for days.

"Hey Buffy, we're running low out here," Joe bellowed from the bar area snapping the slayer from her rambling.

"Coming."

Stacking up as many wine glasses as she could onto one tray in order to save time, Buffy wandered back to behind the bar and placed the sparkly glasses along the shelves feeling a little proud at the top notch effort she had made, just as another group of customers sidled in.

'Great', she thought, 'I hope they just want bottled beer 'cos I'm going to be in serious need of a manicure when all this is over.'

"Heya 'Stavo," Joe greeted the stocky Hispanic man.

"Hi, Joe."

"Bo," the dark haired proprietress nodded curtly to the disheveled man who walked in with him. "Been wearing your palms out again?"

"Joe, for the last time, oenology has nothing to do with onanism," he joked back.

"Sure it doesn't, what can I get ya?"

"Just beer today," said Bo sweeping his scruffy blond hair back hooking it behind his ears.

"Coming up. Oh this is Buffy. She's new," Joe nodded to the girl who had crossed back into the busy main area of the bar and continued with her glass collecting duties.

"Hi, Buffy..." greeted 'Stavo, leaning forward expectantly.

"Buffy...er, Lehane," she said the first surname that came to mind surprising herself that Faith's was the first that she thought of.

"Buffy Lehane?" asked Joe."It's cute. It suits you."

"Er, thanks," came the swift and blush infused reply of the blonde girl as she piled up her tray once more.

"These your interns?" Joe nodded to the group of teens that surrounded her friends.

"Yep, this is Nick, Maria..."

His introduction was interrupted by the sound of smashing glass and the heavy thwack of the metal tray hitting the floor. Everyone stared at Buffy who stood by her dropped tray surrounded by shards of glass and just stared open mouthed as she took in the distinctive visage of the blonde intern who stood at the back. Her face was younger, her skin was tighter, and her smile more genuine, but there was no doubt as to who she was.

"Mom?" Buffy whispered hoarsely.

"Mom? Please, I'm eighteen," Joyce snorted back as she pulled her big translucent pink shades off and slid them back in her Farrah Fawcett hair.

Buffy's mind was reeling. She couldn't believe it. All those times she had wished upon shooting stars and prayed to gods she didn't believe in for the chance to see her Mom just once more. To be able to hold her. To tell her how much she loved and missed her.

"Buffy, are you ok?" Joe asked a little shocked at the girl's reaction.

"I...um....yeah...I just....umm....she reminds me of someone....a friend," Buffy blurted out before biting her lips hoping that her tears wouldn't roll, but inside she thanked whatever powers that be that sent her here as she now had the chance that she would willingly give her life to be able to do.

"You have a friend...called 'Mom'?" Bo asked with a raised eyebrow. "Huh, she started early."

"That's what I said, but don't worry; she's cool. Hey, Buffy take five," Joe added feeling a unusual sympathy for her new friend.

As Joe fetched the broom to sweep up the broken glass, the temporary silence was diffused by her need for an answer. "Ok, which one of you is the designated driver?"

A heavily bearded man raised his hand cautiously denoting his compliancy to the rules of the house.

"Ok, no drinks for you, and only beer for the rest of you," Joe announced showing her leniency to the laws of the land.

"Cool," said the black haired Maria as she grabbed for the offered bottle of Budweiser and swigged from it thirstily.

"I saw Danny outside, what's he hanging around for?" 'Stavo quizzed.

"Why d'ya think?" Joe nodded to the pretty new vineyard workers who radiated naivety.

"Ahh," he nodded back and continued to swish his wine through his teeth.

"So, what do you think of Danny's wine?"

"I think he's got delusions of adequacy," the Hispanic man bluntly responded.

* * *

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*

Buffy sat in the back room crying openly for her Mom, for being given this chance to spend sometime with her. Was this why she was here? Had the powers-that-be decided to reward all her efforts by allowing her to spend some time with her deceased mother? All the feelings of dread and hopelessness that had gnawed at her soul following her mothers passing re-emerged as she sat on the floor with her knees brought up under her chin and wrapped her arms around herself.

'She looks so young, so pretty, so.... happy,' she thought to herself as her tears cascaded down her sweet face.

"Buffy?" Joe asked softly as she walked into the back room and saw the obviously distressed woman.

The proprietress kneeled down and stroked Buffy's forearm gently,

"I just...my Mom died...that girl out there...she just...", she stammered around hers sobs before succumbing to them once more as she flopped into Joe's arms. The brunette just held her tightly as all the once overcome emotions flooded from the blonde.

"Shhh, it's ok Buffy, it's ok."

The purring voice enveloped Buffy's senses and that's when she realized just how much comfort she felt in the soft voice of Faith and how much she really needed someone who truly understood the pain of loss and despair. Common ground for the Chosen Two.

After a few minutes Buffy pulled from the welcoming hug and roughly wiped her nose.

"Thanks Fai...er Joe."

"No problem," came the warm reply. "I'll give you a few minutes, ok?"

"No, I'll be alright," Buffy said as her patented stubbornness was reborn within her as she made her way to her unsteady feet.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, just carry on working, but if you need to come back here just do it, ok?" Joe empathized.

"I will, thanks."

Joe gave one last soft smile and went back to the bar as Buffy looked in the mirror at her puffy eyes, cursing her lack of concealer. Rallying her courage, she took a deep breath and went out ready to face her mother again.

* * *

* * *

* *

When Buffy came back into the bar, she looked around but didn't see her mom anywhere. At first she thought it had been a figment of her imagination but she hoped it wasn't, not some cruel joke by whatever demon sent her into this portal. To mock her with images of things like that were beyond her grasp.

"Er, Stevie."

"It's 'Stavo."

"Sorry, 'Stavo...have you see Mo...er, Joyce?" the slayer asked.

"She went outside with Maria."

"Cool, thanks."

Joe nodded to Buffy who mouthed back a silent 'thank you' and went out into the darkness to find the woman she missed more than anything.

"So that Joyce," started 'Stavo, "Fifty bucks says Bo nails her by the end of the weekend."

"I'll take that, Joyce is hot," Bo finished with a wine infused grin.

A tall and straggly haired intern just grimaced at the seemingly thoughtless feelings for the girl he had just met, but was certainly attracted to. He swigged from his beer and wiped the stray bubbles from his thick beard but kept quiet, not wanting to make a scene. Chivalry was to take second place to alcohol on this night.

* * *

* * *

* *

"Smoke?" asked parking lot malingerer Danny as he handed out a slowly burning joint to his new companions.

"Cool," Joyce replied as she took the offered smoke from him and inhaled deeply before passing it to the raven haired Maria.

"So you around for the summer? 'Cos Ted Nugent's playing in three weeks, I can get tickets y'know," Danny lied.

"That'd be sweet," enthused Joyce who was not attracted to this disheveled man in the slightest, but she felt it was always good to have someone with connections on her side.

"So you off to college in the fall?" the creepy man continued, inching ever closer to the girls, sweeping his hands through his greasy hair.