Portal

'This really is beautiful out here. I can see why Mom was always going on about how lovely it was up here. I guess it reminded her of her happy she was in her youth. Come to think of it, she always wanted to drag us up here but Dad never let us. I wonder why?'

She quickly found herself standing in front of the grey stone building that bustled with activity. Disgruntled employers shook their heads as the slow moving mass of hung-over interns shuffled back and forth between the pressing room and the countless rows of grapes surrounding them. Seeing a portly man directing his platoon of tired teens, Buffy thought he would be the best candidate for assisting her.

"Hi, I'm looking for Joyce...er", she mentally kicked herself for not remembering her mother's maiden name. It did seem strange how she didn't revert to it after the divorce seeing as she was no longer a Mrs. "She's about eighteen, blonde hair....she's one of the interns."

The supervisor flicked through his clipboard, "No idea. I'll ask of them...Hank!" the bespectacled man yelled.

"Hank? As in Hank Summers!?" Buffy squeaked and span round to see him.

"Yeah he's over there," the man pointed with his well-chewed pencil.

"Where? There's only some hippie with...oh..my...God."

Her shock was instant and paralyzing as the slowly approaching teen was not the well dressed man she had idolized as a child, but a shabby-looking creature in ripped jeans and a sweat laden t-shirt. His straggly hair was matted and shampoo evasive while his thick beard was peppered with Cheetos crumbs.

"This girl was looking for Joyce. You seen her?"

"She said she was going painting. I think Bo gave her directions to the shack over at the Mason turning, is that right?" Hank asked as he scratched at his chin after putting down his large wicker basket half full of grapes.

"Oh yeah, it's about a mile thattaway," the supervisor pointed with his ever trusty pencil, but Buffy just stared at the man who stood little above a vagabond in the evolutionary scale of things.

"Hank? B-but you look like Cousin It," the blonde said still in shock.

"Heh, my Mom tells me that all the time," Hank chuckled back as he ran his dirt laden fingers across his facial topiary that hid the cleft in his chin that Buffy, as a child, had been most curious about it's origin.

"Grandma said that?"

"What? No, my Mom said that. Are you ok?" he stressed loudly.

"Yeah, it's just.... the sun. Not used to it," she lied.

Silence fell upon them as they struggled to find a suitable icebreaker, but seeing as her time here was undetermined, the slayer simply cut to the chase.

"You know she likes you...Joyce that is."

"Really?",he said back. It was his turn to be shocked now as he was sure that no-one was aware of the little crush he was been nurturing on Joyce.

"Yep, she told me. You should like totally go for her."

"I dunno. She's pretty cool, really sweet, good looking. And she's such a free spirit, we talked on the way up here, turns out we're heading to the same college in the Fall. I was kind of hoping we could hang out or something...When we danced last night she said she liked my laugh," he offered hoping that the one compliment she had paid him was enough to broach the delicate subject of a summer(s) romance.

"I do like her, y'know," Hank re-affirmed.

"Despite the fact that she smokes pot?" Buffy asked as she picked up a bunch of grapes from the basket and one by one threw them into her mouth.

"Pfft, who doesn't sweetheart?" Hank shrugged as he re-adjusted his stone washed Wranglers.

"What? You too?"

The slayer almost choked on a grape as she didn't think her brain could absorb anymore of these revelations. She needed a buffer to give her mind time to digest this. She needed someone to help her come to terms with everything she was learning about her parents. She needed Faith....or at least someone who was a dead ringer for her.

"Why not toke? It makes me all..."

"Impotent!? You have to cut it out," Buffy enthused.

"Hey chill out, Bunny."

"It's Buffy," she snorted through her gritted teeth as the specter of remembrance of her father's cavalier attitude to the passing of her mother came back to haunt her. But these were her issues and now was not the time to iron them out as they had not even got together at this point. And she still wanted to see her Mom.

"So the shack is...?" Buffy asked.

"That way," Hank pointed.

"Cool.... hey stop that," Buffy snapped as Hank's eye was trapped on the sight of a lean girl bending over in her tight jeans.

"What?"

"If you want to make it work with Joyce, you can't go looking at other women!"

"What makes you think I have a chance with her anyway?"

"Well that's the good thing about her. She always finds something good about someone no matter how...fuzzy they are. Just leave it up to me. I'll get her to meet you and....stop that!" she snipped as his gaze now switched to a stunning Latino woman stretching in the hot sun.

"Sorry. Er, there's this party tonight, out at the old well. You think maybe...?"

"Perfect. I'll arrange a date for you two. I'll lay the groundwork, you just have to turn up...after maybe a shower, or a haircut....But if you ever cheat on her or treat her without the respect she deserves then I won't have a problem making a date between your balls and a breezeblock, capice?", she snarled as she squeezed the grapes in her hand which popped and oozed down her tightened fist.

"I er, ok, sure."

Leaving the man who would grow up to spawn her with that distinctly uneasy visual, Buffy turned and went to search for the shack where her mother would be. She hoped for a less frosty reception than the one she had gotten the previous night.

* * *

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* *

"Mo....er, Joyce?" Buffy called out as she rounded the ramshackle dwelling that faced out onto the lush vineyards that sprawled out as far as the eye could see.

"Yeah?" came the disembodied voice from inside.

"It's me Buffy, from last night.....OH MY GOD!"

As the slayer stood in front of the open side, her mouth hung open. Between the smell of wine and incense, stood a paint spattered and very naked Joyce. Brush in one hand and a glass of rose in the other as she cocked her head to one side whilst casting a critical eye over her cubist interpretation of the scene that rolled out to the horizon.

"What are you doing?" Buffy asked as she tried to avert her tainted eyes from the svelte figure of her nude mother.

"Painting," the younger woman said nonchalantly and sipped her drink.

"About last night I'm sorry if I came on a bit heavy-handed with the whole smoking and....dear God can you put some clothes on." the slayer rushed out before her brain imploded as she was now able to cross off the number one item on her internal 'Things You Should Never See' list.

"Fine...narc," Joyce shrugged, but Buffy's slayer hearing caught the last word not intended to be heard.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night. I was just so tired, it was a helluva trip up here and I get really irritable on long car rides," Joyce sighed as she slid her arms into an oversized shirt and only fastened two of the buttons.

"Don't I know it," Buffy whispered to herself.

"I just needed something to take the edge of it. I needed to kick back and chill for a while. I'm sure you need to do the same every now and then."

"Oh, er yeah."

Buffy looked around as did Joyce neither of them knowing what to say.

"I hear there's a party tonight, are you going?" Buffy attempted to kick-start to conversation once more without accusations or argument marring what precious time they had together.

"I was going there anyway. Danny said..."

"You can't see him!"

"You can't tell me what to do," Joyce shot back, not liking the condescending attitude being thrown her way after all she had fled to the country for the summer to escape the same words that were often issued forth by her own parents.

"Yes I damn well can. Stay away from him, he's bad news. You are not going to see Danny, young lady," Buffy said but reeled back when she realized what she was saying.

'Holy crap, is this Freaky Friday or something?'

"What do you know, I bet you never dated a bad seed," Joyce snapped back.

"I dated the baddest of seeds...twice."

"Whatever...narc," Joyce shrugged again which only served to irritate the slayer a little more. But she didn't want the last words with her mother to be ones of anger.

"You can do better than Danny, you deserve someone better than him."

"Like who?"

"What about Hank?"

"He's nice, but I think I pissed him off yesterday though. I kind of shouted at him on the car ride up here, besides I don't know him that well."

"That's the whole point of going to the party. He told me he was going and really wanted to see you."

"Really? Hmm, maybe I'll see him if he's there," said Joyce in a purposefully ambiguous manner.

"What's that icky smell?" Buffy asked as she suspiciously sniffed the midday air.

"Huh, that's coming from 'Dog Poo Girl.'"

"What? I'm not all...stinky. I'm all lemony fresh...i..is that what they're calling me?"

"Names stick...like shit," Joyce grinned.

"Can we focus here? Hank likes you, you like Hank. You'll both be at the party tonight and maybe you might...y'know."

"Fuck?"

"What?! No, I was going to say hit if off," Buffy reeled once more at her unexpected crudity.

"I'm not a kid. I know what I'm doing. I've been dating since I was thirteen."

"But you...I mean, my Mom didn't let me date until I was fifteen," the slayer pouted.

"Hmm, she sounds like a real square to me."

"But are you just going to give up your womanhood just like that?"

"My womanhood? It's not like I haven't had sex before. I haven't been a virgin since sophomore year in high school," Joyce casually threw out.

"WHAT??!! That's way too much information, I sooo did not need to know that."

"Oh come on girl, it's 1976. You gotta grab life while you can. I mean, I want to be an artist living in a tipi, living with Mother Nature free from the shackles of mainstream life. If I ever become one of those tied down soccer Mom's, then remind me to kill myself."

"Don't say that, don't you dare ever say that!" Buffy shouted as she grabbed Joyce by the well toned bicep pressing her fingers in a little too hard.

"Get off me,", she wrenched her arm free and rubbed its soon to be appearing bruises. "Damn girl, you really need to chill out."

Buffy backpedalled quickly as she feared losing any chance she had of talking, really talking with her mother.

"Sorry."

"You know you're pretty..."

"Thanks."

"Let me finish, I was going to say pretty uptight."

"I'm sooo not uptight, I like totally chilled...er, man."

"Nice try, narc," Joyce said as she stepped closer to the shorter woman.

"Stop calling me that!"

"You really should come to the party, have a smoke, and just be cool because I think you really need to chill out. Come on, Buffy, you need to learn to let go.....to express yourself....to experiment..." Joyce said she slowly ran her fingers tinged with burnt sienna along Buffy's arm.

'Huh? What does she....OH SWEET FUCKING JESUS!!! IS MOM HITTING ON ME??? I think I'm going to puke!'

"No, no, no...this is bad badness, mucho baddo. Off," the other Chosen girl chastised and pulled back from her mother in panic.

"Oh grow up, Britney," Joyce said with a roll of the eyes.

"It's Buffy," she growled.

"Pfft, what kind of moron would name their child Buffy?"

"What? How can...forget it ok...just.... come to the party tonight and give Hank a chance."

"Sure, whatever."

"And will you please stop getting stoned all the damn time?" Buffy almost yelled but tried to steady her voice.

"Sure, whatever," Joyce copied her own words which ratcheted up Buffy's annoyance level a notch.

'God, no wonder Mom always got so pissed at me saying that all the time.'

They stared at each other and before she even knew it Buffy launched herself into her mothers arms and hugged her for all she was worth. She fought to keep the tears at bay and just reveled in the moment before breaking away and rushing out of the shack.

"Later, Buff.y"

"See ya Joyce...I love you," she finished with a whisper.

As she walked away, she wiped the tears from her eyes. She had lost the fight to keep them contained but after being able to talk with her mother, however strained and pointless the conversation, and getting the chance to hug her she felt strange. Like she had at last made peace with finally being able to say goodbye to her. It was only a brief hug, but to Buffy it was the greatest and yet most heartbreaking embrace she would ever know. Happy memories are very seductive.

'Weird girl, but kinda sweet,' Joyce thought as she rummaged around by her paint box and pulled out a reefer burnt down to the roach which was made out of an old ZZ Top flyer. She breathed in the smoke as she removed her one article of clothing and once more looked over her painting.

* * *

* * *

* * *

'I know I shouldn't interact too much with Mom 'cos I know that the slightest thing can effect the future badly. But I miss her so much; I just want her to hold me in her arms and just be there. But still...I mean wow, she's such a free spirit all hippie and that, I wonder why she changed so much? What happened to her? I can remember Mom saying that this is where she fell for the love of her life. This must be when she and Dad got together as he said they got together on a student trip in Napa Valley. Awww, it's so romantic. Wait, is that why I'm here? To make sure they hook up? Is there something that could threaten them getting together? Danny, of course! Did he....or will he...oh shit, what if they did...or do? I have to stop her... Maybe that's why she didn't want me dating until I was fifteen and even then she watched over me like a hawk. I guess she just she wanted to keep me safe, to stop me from making the same mistakes she did? I can stop her from making a big mistake because if she hooks up with that total skeev I'll kick his scrawny ass clear across the state.'

Before she knew it, Buffy had crossed the narrow valley and was back at the bar. The hours had passed by slowly, and she had much to mull over, but came no closer to any conclusions as the sun was now starting to sink in the sky once more. She saw Joe's van was already there and so went inside to hopefully get some advice from a girl who seemed to have seen and done so much in this world despite the fact that she was only two or three years older than the slayer herself.

The blond girl plonked herself down on one of the low couches and just stroked Archie behind the ear as he lay lazily on the well-worn leather.